by Jason Lenov
An outburst of laughter made me jump back into the shadows. I'd tried to peer around the corner, hoping they were all still facing the other way. When the gentle murmur of their voices resumed, I dared to stick my head out towards the light again, half-hoping I'd be disappointed. and half-hoping I'd be torn to shreds by what I saw.
It turned out to be a little bit of both.
That now familiar tremor shuddered through me as I saw the two of them on either side of my wife. She was looking back and forth between them, smiling at what they were saying but somewhere in her expression I could see a thin veil of fear barely cloaking her arousal. It wasn't that she was throwing herself onto them. No. It was just the faintest difference from what she was normally like.
She sat proudly in her chair, like she couldn't have been more pleased to know that she was the object of these two men's attention. When one or the other of them said something funny, she would throw her head back in a laugh, exposing the soft skin of her perfectly smooth neck, then lean in and touch them on the arm.
Not a long touch, or one that made it clear what she was up to, no. Just the slightest touch that could be easily misunderstood. A touch that gave no more consent than her laugh, but one that I could tell was making both of them wired and alert, searching for a clearer sign.
I punished myself a bit for standing there and staring. What kind of man was I? Why would I find this arousing? But those questions now seemed tired and there was something much more pressing that needed to be addressed. I was rock hard against my jeans and no matter how many times I told myself I had to, I couldn't tear my eyes away. It wasn't until I saw her puzzled look, then saw her stand, that I realized what she meant to do.
As she began to walk towards where I was standing, I dipped back into the shadows, turned and kicked plastic bucket full of empty soda cans to be returned, sending them clattering onto the floor. Adrenaline, the serious kind, took over and I bolted for the bathroom, flushed the toilet, washed my hands and was standing in the hallway with the light on, staring down at my shoes when Rebecca floated into view.
"What's going on here?" she asked, smiling a very curious smile.
"Oh I'm such an idiot!" I said, sending my hands into the air in mock exasperation, then looking down at the floor. The only thing was, every single soda can was behind me. Really the only way I could have kicked them that way from where I was standing, was if I'd been playing soccer with the bucket and had kicked it with my heel.
Her smile warmed as she stared straight at me. Even if she hadn't seen me lurking, I knew she knew exactly what I'd done. "Come on John Forrest. There's something we have to do."
"Rebecca?" I asked, grabbing at her as she turned and walked back towards the kitchen, but not catching her in time. Whatever it was she had in mind seemed far too premature. It was one thing to dream of something another thing entirely to have it done to you. There was no stopping her. She was at the table speaking before I could interject.
"Boys?" she asked, a hand perched on a suggestively protruding hip.
Oh God no. Please no. The words swam in my mind, accelerated by the wine and set churning by my own over-active imagination.
"I think it's time to go to bed. If you boys show up smelling like booze tomorrow morning, Sam's going to be pissed."
I thought I saw the two of them deflate like blow up dolls, but I couldn't be sure. I knew for certain that I'd almost had a heart attack. I'd never felt my pulse so thundering, so fast. When I looked at her, she was still smiling.
That's when I had my realization. I'd never seen her look this happy. I'd never seen her this fulfilled. She was drunk on wine, sure, but just as much she seemed to be drunk on their attention, and mine. As she watched the two of them leave, her eyes turned to me, still smiling, and they seemed to say, "Oh not you, Mr. Forrest. Your evening's just begun."
When we'd finally turned out all the lights and set the old dishwasher grinding away, making sure to leave time for the two men to be in their beds, we stumbled drunkenly upstairs, into our room and she pushed me gently so I was sitting on the bed.
"So?" she asked, seemingly revelling in my confused arousal at her new found powers.
"So?" I countered, not sure what it was she wanted to hear.
"Did you do that on purpose?"
Purpose? What? "Do what on purpose?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"Not tell me about them? Not tell me that they were coming?"
Oh shit. "Rebecca no," I sputtered, waving my hands at her to try and explain, "I honestly forgot that Sam had said anything about them until they showed up at the door."
The way she laughed softly, throwing her head back and touching the back of her fingers to her neck, made me painfully aware of the fact that she was completely unconvinced by my explanation.
"You'll have to be a better liar than that Mr. Forrest, if you want to fool the likes of me."
I began to panic. That was the thing, I wasn't lying and I in no way wanted her to think I was. "Rebecca," I began, trying to swim through the thick liquid of my own drunkenness so I could sound more convincing. She was on her knees in front of me before I could say another word.
"I think," she purred, pulling at my zipper. "I think you set this whole thing up, John Forrest." The coy smile playing along her lips made it abundantly clear that that was exactly what she thought.
"Rebecca, please, you have to believe me," I said, shaking my head in the vain hope that that would help my cause.
"I believe this," she said as she sprang my stiff cock free from the oppression of my jeans.
I opened my mouth to speak again, to try another tack but what could I say? My body had betrayed me again and before I could think of another word to mutter, her lips sank down around my head, her eyes boring straight into the hottest part of me making me flex even harder in her mouth.
There was a part of me that wanted to push her off. There was a part of me that wanted to take her in my arms, to explain to her that this wasn't the way she thought it was, that it was a mistake. A part of me that wanted to make sure she knew the truth. The real truth.
Then there was the other part. The part that actually did all the thinking. The part she had just started teasing with her tongue.
I felt that hot muscle as it worked its way around me, gliding up and down my stiffened length, tasting me and making the cum start to pool at the base of my cock already. I stared, awe-struck, at the seductress that had me so misunderstood and understood me completely at the same time. When she pulled off of me, she did it with a throaty groan.
"Are you thinking of me with Tyler's cock in my mouth?" she teased, hooking her fingers under the red shirt she was wearing and pulling it over her head in one swift motion.
Well, I hadn't been. But I was now.
I watched her beautiful breasts bounce out from beneath the fabric, watched her toss it on the floor, then sink her face back down onto me, taking me as deeply as she could until I felt the back of her throat.
"Oh fuck Beck, careful..." I said as I felt her fingers on my balls. That didn't help matters. She looked up at me with big eyes and pulling her mouth off my cock, gurgled and gagged as she came off.
"Why don't we give you a little break?" she smiled and winked at me again.
I was immobilized completely, mesmerized watching her strip out of the tight pants she'd been wearing. She bent over and peeled them off, staring at me and giving me a perfect view of the roundness of her ass. My cock bounced at the sight of it, making her smile even wider.
She crawled up onto me and I felt the wet heat of her pussy press against my head. My body reacted as I felt my hips push up, eager to sink into the delicious slit. But Rebecca had other plans.
Crawling up my body, I felt her trailing wetness along my stomach, then my chest and as she came up to my shoulders, I realized what she wanted me to do.
I'd thought of this so often, this very thing! My wife, taking charge, hungry to fuck but hungrier to feel my mouth
on her sex. Now, here I was a raging mess of testosterone and conflicted feelings, wondering whether I should, or even could, still push her away and explain. But as she parted the soft lips of her pussy, revealing the hot pink flesh of her stiff clit, I knew the answer and I knew I wouldn't do any such thing.
As she sank down onto me, I saw her watching herself, watching as the lips between her legs met my mouth. Her juices soaked into my mouth, the sweet tang of her pussy making my cock lurch and my abdomen tighten. Ignoring every apprehension, I pushed myself into her hole.
Oh fuck how sweet she tasted. I savoured every drop of her as her fluids ran down my tongue and into the back of my throat. She moaned. Her hips pushed forward, then back again and I felt her grab a handful of my hair in a fist. Her every movement filled with intense determination, she ground herself onto my face.
I cupped the two round orbs of flesh at her ass in my hands. This, feeling her use me like this, made me more aroused than anything she'd ever done. She pushed herself back again, pulling me out of that wet heat until she found my tongue with her taut nub and began to grind again.
Her head swung back as the pleasure of me on her clit filled her body with sensation. My cock was stiff as a flagpole, I craved to be deep inside her again but nothing could compare to the way she was using me as if I was her toy. I never wanted it to end.
I felt it start in her thighs. A gentle shake that pressed against my cheeks. She spread her legs a little wider, sinking down onto me, letting me press her clit harder against her flesh. I lapped furiously at her, hoping she was feeling just a fraction of the pleasure this was giving me.
"Oh fuck yes..." she breathed, looking down at me again, buried beneath her cunt. Then I heard a soft and high pitched mewling sound come from her lips as her body readied for release. My tongue was burning, my jaw tired but I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop staring at the beautiful creature that had mounted me, pinned me down and used me for her own desire. Another second and she was grinding even harder, her hips swinging back and forth in time with my insistent tongue.
I'd never seen her come that hard. Her face twisted into a beautiful agony as her whole body shook on top of me, smothering me, it seemed, beneath her cunt. And still I didn't stop, my tongue flailing wildly at her as I watched the climax crest, burst inside her and then felt its hot intensity as it spilled inside my mouth.
She came down from it quickly and thank God because I felt like I might suffocate. Pulling herself off of my face, she crawled back down my body and I felt her hot opening touch my cock again.
I swelled and groaned as she surrounded me with that liquid heat, sinking onto me and pulling me deep inside herself again. As she started to ride me, her lips twisted into sin. Leaning low, until her nipples touched my chest, I could tell what was coming next.
"You want to see them put their cocks inside me?" she asked, her innocent voice still dripping lust.
"Fuck," I breathed, trying not to think of what that would be like. Again, my body spoke for me as I hardened in her sheath.
"Yeah? You like that, don't you? Thinking of those big cocks stuffed inside me? All you can do is watch?"
Fuck. I didn't like it. But I did. I couldn't hide how hard I was or how soon I would come. I looked into her eyes, hoping there would be something there that would tell me she was just playing, that this was just a sexy game and not the real deal. Nothing there but desire. For what though? That part I couldn't tell.
"Come on baby, fuck that seed into me. You want to see them come inside me don't you? You want to see them fill my pussy up with cum?"
The image flashed through my mind. Rebecca on her back, her legs curling around the shape between them. Not my shape. His. Her hands running along his muscled back, her mouth whispering the same words, begging for his load as his body flexed between her thighs.
"Ungh..." I grunted the guttural sound as I felt the cum race through my shaft and blast into her womb. The last thing I could see before I closed my eyes was her smile of satisfaction. In the darkness as I drove myself into her depths, I felt her fingers play along my lips as if she owned them. As if she knew I was really hers now.
My body shuddered and shook off the rest of the orgasm, my eyes sprang open to see her still there. Still smiling. With the clarity that comes with release, I rolled her off me to one side and propped myself up beside her. She smiled a little wider and her lips still tasted sweet, like wine.
"Rebecca," I said, trying not to sound hurried or crazy. But I had to get it out. "Rebecca, don't fall asleep. I need to talk to you."
She opened her eyes, the lids had started getting lazy already.
"I'm cold," she whispered and I felt her shudder. Pulling covers up, I pressed my lips to hers again and kissed.
"Rebecca you have to know. I didn't do it on purpose. I really did forget to tell you about those guys."
There was nothing reassuring about her smile. "Did you forget to kick that trash can over the right way too?" she teased, as if she thought she knew the truth.
It felt like falling. There was nothing to grab onto. I had to come clean.
"Okay, I was watching you from around the corner," I began, trying to keep calm.
"Were you?" Her tone annoyed me. I needed her to be serious now.
"I was but..."
Her eyes snapped open. "But what, John Forrest? But what?"
But what, John Forrest? But what? Suddenly I didn't know whose game this was anymore, hers or mine? Of course I had been watching and of course I had started this whole thing rolling but now it felt like I needed it to stop.
"Rebecca, I don't want you to fuck anyone else. I don't want that." The seriousness with which I said it took even me by surprise. It got her sober attention too.
"John," she said, her brow furrowing, clouds before a storm.
"I just...this is just a game, right?"
Her whole expression changed, like I'd hit exactly the wrong note, said exactly the wrong thing, betrayed her trust and left her out in the cold.
"John how could you...I was just trying to...I thought you liked it when I talked like that."
I thought I saw the flicker of a tear form in the corner of her eye, right before she turned and curled the other way, her back to me.
"Beck," I started, softer now that I knew I'd fucked up. "I just wanted to make sure."
She turned around and now there was only a cold, hard stare where before there had been nothing but playful warmth. "Of course I'm not going to fuck your fisherman friends you asshole. But thanks for thinking I'm that much of a slut."
She rolled back around and pulled the covers up and over her ears.
My heart sank. What in the fuck was wrong with me? She'd been having fun. We'd been having fun. What had I done? What in the fuck had I done?
Chapter 15
The wind was bitterly cold for mid-May the next morning. Rebecca was still sleeping when the alarm sounded at four thirty and I smashed it quiet with my palm, getting out of bed as softly as I could.
Our two guests were already in the kitchen making coffee as I stumbled down bleary-eyed and only nodded a "Good morning" as I set about preparing eggs. They ate in silence, forks and knives scraping along plates and the sound of toast crunching the only sound pushing back against the wind outside.
When Sam got there he didn't bother knocking, knowing one or the other of us would probably still be asleep. "Surf's up boys," he whispered as the men got ready with their gear. "You keep these two good an' sober last night?" he said, one eye cocked.
I breathed a long, deep sigh and that was all the answer he needed.
"An hour on the waves out der should cure dat!" he grinned, as the three of them shuffled through the door. I was left with a pile of dirty plates and nothing to do but wait until Rebecca woke up. Crawling under a blanket on the couch I tried to sleep but the gnawing, nagging feeling of what was going to come wouldn't let me close my eyes. I had just started to drift when I heard her footsteps coming dow
n the stairs.
"Hey," I greeted from the couch, watching her rub her sleepy eyes open.
"Hey," she answered, her voice sounding way too nonchalant for what had happened last night. "Thanks for getting up. I didn't even hear the alarm."
A felt a hope unfurl inside my chest. I had expected her to be much more upset. Had she forgotten? Had she been that drunk?
"How did you sleep," I probed, wondering if maybe I'd just made a mistake.
"Great actually," she said with a funny little smile. "But John..."
Uh oh. Okay, this was going to be it. "Yeah?"
"We should probably stop drinking so much."
One very deep sigh.
"Yeah..."
As she shuffled towards the coffee, I sat there weighing options. I could just leave it, right? If she really didn't remember, I could just leave it and not say anything, start fresh, pretend like it never happened and play my cards a little smarter this time?
I almost managed to convince myself. Almost.
"Beck," I threw the blanket off and walked over to where she was standing, steaming mug in hand. "Do you remember last night?"
The giggle she emitted made me realize that she only remembered part of it.
"Of course I do silly. It was nice."
Well, maybe there was no reason to remind her of exactly what happened.
"Can we talk?"
She narrowed her eyes and looked at the clock, obviously realizing it was serious. "Now?"
"Now. Please? It's important."
She nodded. A serious, earnest nod, then sat down at the table, ready to hear what I had to say.
It was time to come clean.
"I just want to say this because..." I drifted off, part of my resolve flagging, my mind not wanting to dig out the words. But I knew if we were going to do this, this was the only way. "I want to say this because I feel like things might get complicated if I don't."
She was really listening. She reached a hand across the table and put it on my arm.
"How do you actually feel? About this thing?" I asked.