by Whitney D.
Then, over night, it was like something changed. Matt started working long hours and he was rarely ever home when I was. Then came the baby talk. Every second he was at home was filled with us arguing over me not being able to get pregnant or him fucking me missionary style for what seemed like three minutes before he pulled out and left me in bed to clean himself of me.
What had caused us to get to this point? Maybe it was the fact that I had no desire to have kids or that our age difference was finally catching up to us... or was it something much worse?
A tap on the door shook me.
“Emery?”
“Yes...” I mumbled.
“Let me take you home.”
I stood, threw the over sized t-shirt over my head and looked myself over in the mirror.
The black t-shirt fell mid-thigh. I kept my thong on, but decided it would be in poor taste to put the boxer briefs on that he had brought me, so instead I left them on the counter next to the sink.
Opening the door, I took in the sight of Sebastian propped up against the frame with his forearm.
“I don't want to be alone.”
“I don't think you can stay here.”
“Why not?”
He licked his lips and I could tell a scenario was playing out behind his eyes.
“Go rub one out, it will help,” I laughed as I pushed passed him and made my way into the living room.
“That's not what I want.”
“Yes, I know damn well what you want... I may want the exact same thing, but due to unforeseen circumstances I think we're both kind of between a rock and a hard place.
“Hard, yes.”
My eyes immediately went to his groin, his rigid cock pressing firmly against his pants, as it begged to come out and play.
“See... you can't stay here. It will just be torture for both of us, Em.”
“Like I said, go rub one out.”
“Seriously - stop it, Emery.”
“No seriously, Sebastian, do it. It will help. I'll just sit here and make myself at home. Maybe we can watch a movie. You sit over there and I will sit here. Friends, right? We can do this. We can be friends.”
He looked over to the sofa sitting next to the one I was sitting on. For a moment, I think he was seriously considering going to masturbate in the other room. I knew it would help, but then I realized it could also make things much worse.
“Fine. Be right back.”
Whaaaaaat? My jaw may have actually hit the floor when he walked away. And then all I could think about was him bare naked, every one of his muscles flexing as he stroked his cock in the palm of his hand, his head falling back, his moans, the idea that he was thinking about me while he was in there... I needed to stop.
I grabbed the TV remote from the end-table and quickly flipped the television on. When I heard him shut the bathroom door, I turned up the volume louder than it needed to be. Roughly three minutes later, I couldn't stand it any longer. I literally tip-toed to the bathroom. Pressing my ear gently against the door, I listened to the sound of his palm grasping his thick flesh with each long stroke of his cock, his groans muted, a few muffled fucks left his lips and that was it.
My fingers made their way down to my soaking wet panties and I slipped the thin material aside to rub my clit. I bit my lip in an effort to prevent myself from making a sound. My breathing quickened as I inserted two fingers deep inside of me. Withdrawing them a moment later, I brought the wetness out and rubbed it along my swollen clit, as the sound of Sebastian's stroking grew quicker and his moans grew louder. I was close to coming myself and as his pace quickened, so did the furious pressure of my fingers against my clit.
“Ohhh my God. Fuck,” Sebastian's words were a like a prayer and with that, I came undone. Pressing my back against the wall, I fell to the floor next to the door and as I came, I let my legs fall open lazily.
I heard Sebastian turn the faucet on and I moaned, praying that the sound of the water would stifle the sounds that were coming from my mouth. Then without warning, the door flung open and Sebastian looked down at me. His eyes were dark with want and I withdrew my wet fingers from under my shirt quickly, trying to hide the fact that I had just masturbated listening to him do the same. Completely embarrassed, I looked at the floor, but then he dropped to his knees next to me. He took my hand in his, brought my fingers to his lips, and placed them in his mouth. His slick warm tongue rolled between my fingers and our eyes locked onto one another as he tasted me.
“Fuck. I've craved the flavor of your pussy every fucking day since I last tasted you,” he mumbled as he continued sucking my fingers.
My mouth fell open in reaction to the slurping sound he was making and then I moaned as my eyes rolled back in my head.
“Emery. Please, let me just have one taste.”
My eyes sprang open at his proposition.
“What?” I yanked my fingers out of his grasp and wiped them on my tee.
“Let me taste you. I know how turned on you are... I can smell how wet your pussy is from here.”
“It won't end with that.”
He eyed me suspiciously.
“You'll go down on me, but it won't stop there. I'll get caught up in the moment and beg you to fuck me. And then you will because you want to. You'll make love to me all night long in every room and on every surface in this house. It won't be just a taste. I want to Sebastian, I really do, but I.... I can't. I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry if I've mislead you. I can't do this. Coming here was a mistake.”
12
He put his head down as if he had lost a battle.
“Obviously we can't be friends... we were never meant to be friends.”
“No we weren't. You should be married to me instead of that fucking bastard that resents you.”
I went to open my mouth, to argue, but he was right. Matt resented me. I deserved better and it was obvious that Sebastian had already picked up on that.
Walking out of the room, he returned a minute later with a plastic bag.
“Here are your wet clothes. I would've dried them if you were going to stay, but I'll take you back to your car now.”
“Thank you.”
I took the bag from him and he offered his hand to me to help me up from the floor.
Making our way outside to his car, I glanced at my watch to see that it was nearly midnight. I supposed it didn't matter because I would be returning home to an empty house where my dreams would either be non-existent or they would be filled with Sebastian eating me out. I rolled my eyes at my thoughts as Sebastian opened the car door for me.
We made our way back to the hospital and neither of us spoke a word the entire ride there. I battled the urge to look at him. Knowing I'd hurt him, I wanted to reassure him. I wanted to scream that I fucking loved him and none of this was fair. It shouldn't have worked out this way.
Pulling into the garage, Sebastian asked me where my car was and I told him it was on the third level. Once we got there, I pointed to my Honda. He pulled up behind it and I waited, but he didn't look at me or say another word.
“Sebas--”
“Goodnight, Emery.”
I leaned over and planted a small kiss on his cheek. As I withdrew my lips from his flesh, I saw his jaw tighten. It was obvious that he was struggling with an internal battle and I wanted to comfort him because I was fighting the same war, but instead I wrapped my tiny fingers over his closed fist that was planted on the seat between us and I squeezed. It was nothing special, but it was all I could do to let him know that I still cared about him.
“Goodnight Sebastian.”
I got out of the Bronco, rounded the back and made it to my driver side door before turning to take one last look at him. Our eyes met just briefly and I smiled before he put his car in drive and pulled away.
I lived close to the hospital and I was home in under fifteen minutes because there was not a car on the road due to the late hour.
Making my way inside, I was gr
eeted with the beep beep beep of the alarm system and my very hungry cat, Einstein, meowing ferociously near the cabinet where he knew the cat food was stored.
After feeding the cat, I went straight to the couch where I'd decided I would sleep because I couldn't bear to spend the night in the bed I'd once shared with Matt. I left on Sebastian's vintage black tee because it still smelled like him and I pulled a blanket over my head. I had quickly decided that the next day, I would talk things out with Matt. I owed him at least that much. I wasn't just going to leave him because Sebastian happened to waltz back into my life, but I definitely needed to see where we stood. Things like this had always had a way of working themselves out and I pleaded with the heavens that they'd work out in my favor because I wasn't sure my heart could take another beating.
Sleep finally came and when it did, it was filled with plenty of naughty acts between Sebastian and me. He ate me out all right, and it was the juiciest dream I'd had in weeks. Somewhere in the middle of him pounding all nine inches of his beautiful cock into me, a ringing noise made its way right smack dab into the middle of our moment.
A few more times the ringing blared before I was jolted awake by the doorbell.
I struggled to pull myself from the couch, wrapping a blanket around me and shuffling to the front door.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Troyer?”
“Yes.”
“Sign here, please.”
A woman in a worn out old skirt suit handed me a pen and pointed to a line on a paper marked with a big red X. I scribbled my name and she handed over a manila envelope.
“Have a lovely day,” she turned and made her way down the front steps and back to her four door sedan parked in the street in front of my house.
Shutting the door, I slipped the envelope under my arm and made my way to the kitchen to make some coffee.
Dropping the envelope near the stack of unpaid bills by the phone and I went about making my favorite vanilla bean espresso.
While the espresso was brewing, I shuffled through my purse to find my cell phone so I could call Matt. He picked up after the fifth ring.
“Hello?
“Hey Matt. It's me.”
“I see you got the papers?”
“Papers? What papers?”
A long uncomfortable break in the conversation ensued and before I knew it, he'd said the word divorce.
“What?”
“The divorce papers. A process server delivered them about ten minutes ago. I got a notification on my phone.”
“Are you fucking joking?”
“Em--”
“Don't fucking call me that, Matthew!”
“Listen, I can imagine how angry you are honey, but...”
I hung up. I could not fucking believe him. He was leaving me? I snatched up the envelope and tore it open, leaving the scattered remnants of the packaging crumbled on the floor.
Petition for: Dissolution of marriage
Petitioner
Matthew Caine Troyer
vs.
Respondent
Emery Jane Troyer (nee. Evans)
My hands grew shaky and I eventually dropped the stack of papers to the floor. Slowly, each page fell into a mess of a pile on the tile and then came the tears. I wasn't sure how long I cried, but it seemed like most of the day. Luckily, it was my day off from work. Around 5PM, I'd finally managed to pull myself off the couch to get a glass of water and attempt to eat.
It wasn't the fact that he was divorcing me, it was the reasoning behind it. Was he really leaving me because I was unable to get pregnant? What kind of man... what kind of husband did that? I was mad. I was fucking livid. I took a shower, brushed my teeth, coated my face with heavy makeup, and slipped on Matt's favorite little black dress. I was getting to the bottom of this if it was the last thing I did. At this point, I was over it. I no longer wanted to be married to a coward of a man that was full of hate, resentment, and lack of understanding, but... he at least owed me an explanation. I had decided I'd show up unannounced and demand an explanation. I'd look all sexy in my little black dress that showed off my tits perfectly and then he'd get a real taste of reality.
Even though it was frowned upon by the university, I knew Matt had been sleeping on the sofa in his office. It was around 7PM when I pulled up to the English building at the school. I put on a bit of lip gloss and checked myself out in the mirror before heading inside.
The campus was unusually vacant, but then I realized it was fall break so there were no classes in session. I exited my car, and made a beeline straight inside. My heels clicked against the tile floor as I made my way through the building, ending up right in front of the office of Professor Matthew Troyer.
I thought about knocking, but it was too late for common courtesy. Turning the knob, I flung the door open and it crashed as it slammed against the wall.
Taking in the sight of Matt standing across the room stark naked, with a petite brunette on her knees in front of him, his cock shoved deep into her mouth was all I had to see before I completely lost it.
“Are you fucking serious?”
Matt grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, pulling her off of him. Her mouth made a loud popping sound as the tip of his cock left her lips.
“Here,” he reached to the sofa, grabbing a pile of crumbled clothes and offering them to her.
She looked at me briefly, her perfectly sculpted tits didn't even budge when her torso turned to face me.
“Baby, I'll give you two some time. I'll be back later,” she looked at me when she spoke, even though she was clearly talking to Matt.
I watched as his eyes lingered on her bare ass as she mosied past me, shutting the door behind her.
“I can explain.”
“Don't. I don't really care what the fuck that was. In fact, thank you Matt. Thank you for fucking up so bad that I wasn't obliviously living a miserable life while you fucked your grad student under my nose for the rest of our lives. Thank you. And this whole fucking time I thought you were leaving me because I couldn't have a baby. I seriously thought you were some low-life scum for leaving your wife because of her inability to give you a child. When in reality it was because you are a selfish piece of shit. How long, Matt? How fucking long have you been fucking that slut?”
He winced, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to answer, but then I think a light bulb went off in his head as he realized it no longer mattered because our marriage was over. There was no reason to lie to me, there was no reason to sugarcoat it. We were DONE.
“It's been a while.”
“How fucking long, Matt?!”
“She's pregnant.”
I laughed. It was the only logical reaction to his confession. Of course she was fucking pregnant. It all made sense now.
I felt tears prick in the corners of my eyes and I instinctively turned to leave before I gave him tears he didn't deserve.
“Emery, I'm sorry.”
“Fuck you Matt!” I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.
That night was a total blur. I didn't even remember making it back to my car or driving to the pub down the street from my house. Hitting the bar probably wasn't the best choice of ways to drown my sorrows, but it was all I had so it would have to do. I'm not even sure how many drinks I had, but I think every guy in the bar had tried to buy me one.
Ironically, the bar was the same one that Matt and I had met at all those years ago. Except tonight he wasn't here and I was certain I would be going home alone. That was, until fate roared her head again and Sebastian Holt happened to walk in right in the middle of me downing cocktail number five.
I didn't see him at first, in fact I wasn't really sure how long he had been there before we saw each other. I noticed him before he saw me and I immediately thought I am going to let him take me home and fuck me all night. Why the fuck not. I deserved it. I needed it. I could do whatever the fuck I wanted to and not have to worry about it now that I was technically single.
“Em?”
He approached from my left, chanting my name as he placed the palm of his hand gently against my left shoulder.
“Sebastiaaaan,” I slurred his name even though I had attempted to say it with a smooth sexual undertone.
I brought my glass back to my lips, but he took it from me, placing it back on the bar before I could take another sip.
“Let me take you home.”
“Yes, take me home. Take me to your bed, fuck me allllll night long. Please and thank you, kind Sir.”
He stifled a laugh before responding, “Give me your keys.”
I yanked them from my wristlet and tossed them at him, “Ohhh you naughty boy. You want to fuck me in the back seat of my car just like old times? Yeah?”
“Come on,” he left forty bucks on the bar and helped me to my feet.
Draping my arm around his neck, he wrapped his arm around my waist as he guided me towards the exit.
When we made it to my car, he put me in the passenger seat and leaned over to buckle me in. After he shut the door, I leaned my head to the right where it stayed planted against the cold glass of the window.
I passed out within seconds of him pulling onto the road and when I awoke up later, I was wrapped in a chenille blanket on the couch in his house.
Then came the vomit. I ran from the sofa directly to the bathroom, flinging the door open and unloading the poison that had filled my stomach earlier that night straight into the toilet.
After throwing up for a solid five minutes, I laid my head against the cold tile floor just briefly before Sebastian came to me.
“Em? You okay?”
“Yeah. Never better,” I rolled my eyes at him sarcastically.
“You wanna talk about it?”