by K A Sands
I squinted at the photo, at her, following the curve of her neck, where the hint of a scarf stood out along the bottom of the picture. Such a simple thing – the line of a woman’s throat - it set my pulse racing, my dick thickening under the warm duvet. I wasn’t even surprised at the bugger getting a stiffy over a little flesh, he’d been starved of attention for a long time. I snaked my hand down my stomach and under the covers, taking myself in a firm grip, still staring at the enticing woman on my screen.
What was it about her?
As I admired her full, pert lips, my cock strained so hard I clenched my teeth, it was almost painful. I gripped myself tighter, the sweet agony feeling like heaven, the pressure intoxicating. Closing my eyes, I imagined the woman’s tongue sliding up the thick vein that pulsed hot blood to the crown. Holy shit! My balls were aching with tension, if I started jacking off I’d come in minutes. Watching sub-standard porn and using my hand were never enough to fully arouse me, but the mere sight of this woman gave me the hardest erection I’d had in a long time.
Groaning, I removed my hand from under the duvet, feeling perverted for jerking off to a photo of a woman I didn’t know, Taylor’s sister, of all people. I was disgusted with myself. Undeniably losing my fucking marbles. Still, I was rock solid, and I couldn’t stop thinking about her lips around me.
I snapped my phone off and angrily threw it onto the nightstand. “Lukewarm shower it is then.” I continued to lay there and scowled at the ceiling, making no effort to get up.
The muffled noise of my bedroom door creaking open roused me from a semi slumber and I twisted my head to catch Stella sneaking into my room - uninvited. I shut my eyes, hoping she didn’t spot I was awake, hoping she’d slink back off. Stella whispered out my name across the dark room. I ignored her, intimating the hint to fuck off. I wasn’t in the mood to entertain whatever crap she was about to throw at me.
Her muted footfalls padded across the carpeted room then I felt the whoosh of chilly air as she pulled back the duvet and invited herself into my bed. The brazen bitch climbed right on in, like it was her God given right to do so. It perhaps was once, that ship had long sailed. We hadn’t shared the same bed in almost two years, she wasn’t sharing it now.
My earlier annoyance resurfaced, the pretence of sleep foiled. I didn’t want her here, especially not in my bed. She whispered my name again and this time I snapped at her.
“What?” I didn’t take the trouble to hide my anger at her audacity, didn’t bother to open my eyes to look in her direction when she shuffled closer.
“Can I sleep here?”
The murmured ‘please’ that followed almost sounded sincere. I’d had twenty years of listening to ulterior motives and I recognised one when I heard it. Especially from her mouth.
“No.” I said, my voice void of any emotion.
My hard on was taking its sweet arsed time to shrivel back into its hidey hole the way it usually did when Stella was around and making her intentions clear. I prayed she didn’t notice. Considering I was flat on my back and Stella was sharp as a tack, missing nothing, I wasn’t getting away with it. She’d take it all the wrong way, thinking she could still turn me on like she used to in the old days. She’d manipulate me with a hot fuck, because if there was one thing my ex-wife was good at - it was fucking.
“Go back down the hall, Stella.” I wanted to avoid the impending messy scenario.
She inched closer again, pushing her body against my side, the coldness of her skin shocking my warm flesh. Her breasts pressed against my arm as she breathed into my ear. Say what you like about my ex-wife - ugly as sin - except on the outside; Stella was a pin-up beauty and knew it, my body did too, responding to the softness of her skin.
“You’re my husband, Lucca.”
I stiffened at her comment, nerves wound tight, all too aware of the title that bound me to her. I was her husband, had been for a long time. I should have been her only lover, all she desired, but no - there had been more than me warming her bed these last twenty years, and I couldn’t even stomach the thought of how long she’d been fucking around with Adam. Our marriage vows had been meaningless, she’d thwarted most everyone. Funny she’d forget that now she wanted from me.
“Stella...we need to talk.”
Those cliched words had never sounded so bitter on my tongue before. Maybe having her naked and vulnerable lying next to me was the perfect opportunity to engage in some civil conversation. When I finally turned to consider her, she had an expression on her face I hadn’t seen in years. Like she cared. I figured that couldn’t be right, she’d never cared. The truth of it was - neither of us gave a shit, we’d told each other repeatedly.
“Tomorrow,” she mumbled.
Trailing her icy fingers down my chest, I shivered. Bumps rose along my flesh, not the arousing kind because it didn’t feel good. Dread settled in the pit of my stomach and I edged away from Stella only for her to follow.
“I know what’s coming, Lucca.” She squeezed my wrist with her other hand. “Can’t we pretend for tonight, that we’re still married, that we’re still husband and wife?”
She let go of my wrist and slid her arm across my stomach, her fingers brushing the tip of my semi soft dick. Her words were razors to my heart, for all the things we could have been but never were. A pining for a love I’d never felt, yet knew was out there. For Stella and me, love had been unattainable. How we’d managed to survive together for all these years I would never know.
Stella giggled in my ear as she wrapped her cold fingers around my length, and from nowhere the idea took root and became enticing. The pressure of her dainty hand around me only served to remind me why my cock was standing to attention in the first place. Mahogany eyes stared back at me as I closed mine and dragged in a breath. Stella took it as a green light and stroked me, I was fucking hard as granite again under the hand of a woman I could barely tolerate. And it was Laura’s face filling the space in my head.
How’s that for fucked up?
Stella was halfway over me and crawling down my legs before I’d returned to my senses. I grabbed at her shoulders to drag her back up when I felt the warmth of her mouth engulf me. No hesitation on her part. Pushing her off was the sensible thing to do, I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Instead, I grabbed tufts of Stella’s blonde hair and gripped tighter when she moaned around me, the vibrations rousing me further. It had been a long time since Stella had touched me like she was, lavishing attention on me. I even forgot I hated her sucking me off, her mouth anywhere near my manhood, dangerous. My body took on a mind of its own and before long my hips were pushing up roughly, my length forcing its way down her throat. I foolishly continued, committing to the act, never hesitating yet anticipating nothing good would come of this.
Stella shamelessly sucked my cock and it felt so goddamned perfect I was reluctant to pull out. When her hand cupped my balls and I groaned noisily, an unfamiliar orgasm threatened. I’d not come in so long. I yanked Stella up the length of my body until she was face to face with me.
“Please, Lucca.”
Warring furiously with my morals, Stella recognised the indecision in me. I thought back to the many times I’d woken up handcuffed to our bed, Stella’s lips around my dick, my vehement protests meaningless. Teeth and flesh didn’t ever go hand in hand well. She’d climb on top and use me, being nothing but brutal. I remembered the way she’d gouge her spiked nails into my chest, drawing blood, leaving scarred lines. How her hands would wrap around my throat so tight I’d almost black out from the pressure, while she took her pleasure. I recounted the time she whipped my legs black and blue with one hand while the other squeezed between my legs until the pain was so unbearable I sobbed and begged for mercy like a child.
The last time I’d slept with my wife was not by choice. You’d think I’d have learnt my lesson and slept with one eye open at night. I somewhat had until Stella lulled me back with false apologies and fake securities. I’d let my walls down and reg
retted it.
It had been another mistake, which had culminated in a beating so appalling, I’d ended up in the hospital. Only after she had fucked me raw with whatever implement she could find in our bedroom, to the point of making me bleed. My cock hadn’t liked that one little bit which only angered Stella and spurred her on. Four hours of hell later, my bruised and battered body finally succumbed, my orgasm as painful as my broken wrist, bloodied ankles and blackened eyes. Talking my way out of that mess was still a blur, but I had, with Ryder’s help. Her viciousness was the final straw, the start of the end for Stella and me.
My wife was one sadistic bitch who got off on my pain. The ‘r’ word always hovered on the tip of my tongue, yet I could never bring myself to utter it. Stella was my wife. Her proclivities were beyond the bit of rough sex I enjoyed on occasion. Early in our marriage I’d made no secret of the fact I’d like to try a dirty, hard fuck now and again. And we did, but her extremes became too much and at times sickened me. I’d made damned sure never to put myself in that position again.
If she wanted a hate fuck now, then she’d better hold on. For old time’s sake, I was going to give her exactly what she asked for. If that made me a bastard? So be it. I was taking control back. I needed this, needed to know there were no feelings left. That I could use her the same way she used me.
Was I really going to entertain her? Yes - yes, I was.
I shoved her away, rolling her over roughly, pinning her underneath me. I grabbed her hands and yanked them above her head. “Don’t move them.” I looked her in the eye, mind made up. “You want me to fuck you? Is that what you want?”
“No. I want my husband to make love to me.” Her voice was so timid I hardly recognised it.
I sneered at her, raising myself up onto my haunches. I spat in my hand and grabbed my cock, leaning over, stroking my erection inches from her face. Her eyes were glassy as she flicked her tongue across her lips and reached up to brush her finger over my nipple. Her delicacy confused me.
“Fuck me then.”
My strokes got faster, my grasp tighter. I wanted to be almost there before I fucked her. Stella tried to pull me down toward her, expecting a kiss. I refused to look at her and ordered - yes, ordered - her onto her stomach. I didn’t even want the woman touching me, never mind looking at me. It was a bastard thing to do but so was hate fucking. I shrugged it off and gripped her arse cheeks, rubbing my spit lubed cock along her crack, anticipating a quick and angry screw.
My fingers slid from her chilled flesh and reached into the bedside drawer to pull out a condom, one of the many Ryder had thrown at me the day my divorce papers were delivered. I hastily rolled one over my softening erection, closing my eyes, not regretting seeking the image of Laura in my head. All the blood rushed southward and, it helped. Oh lord, did it help. Stella mumbled some shit about not needing a condom, no way was I fucking her raw.
Slapping her arse, I growled at her. “Shut the fuck up, Stella.”
She soon quieted when I ran a finger up her slit, making sure she was wet. I might be acting like a prick right then, but I wasn’t sadistic. I didn’t want to kiss her, cuddle her, hell - any foreplay was unappealing with this woman, the intimacy too much. I made my intentions clear as she wriggled underneath me, grabbing her hips roughly and raising her arse from the bed. I speared into her, not caring in the slightest for the gentle touch. I rammed my dick into her pussy so hard, she jolted up the bed and cried out.
“Lucca...what the fuck?”
I heard a hint of panic in her voice as I pulled out and impaled her again. I didn’t have it in me to ease up, I went at Stella with punishment in mind. No way in hell was she getting off tonight, not from me. I was taking what I wanted; a warm body to fuck, to hell with her. I rough handed her, gripping so tight the flesh was white around my fingers.
Then I fucked her.
Fucked her like the slut she was.
Fucked her like I hated her.
And when my roaring orgasm emptied into the rubber, I pulled out and rolled away from her. Sweat dripped down my chest as I gathered my breath, Stella’s whimpers off to my side barely registering. I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt.
I leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Fuck you very much.”
Ryder
I’d woken up that morning with a woman in my bed and didn’t have sex with her. I didn’t have the ‘talk.’ I didn’t sneak out. I didn’t freak out. I did, however, keep that woman close to me all night and wished all my mornings started the same way. I did get up and make her coffee. I did tell her how beautiful she was. And I did tell her I’d call her, and meant it.
Taylor Hamilton had me tied up in knots. She totally blindsided me the first time we met, then swept my feet from under me the second. The third time, she burrowed so far under my skin, I had an itch I couldn’t scratch until I made her mine. I’d never been in love before, but I was halfway there with Taylor. The possibilities were endless and exciting. Being with this one woman for the rest of my life didn’t even scare me.
I’d screwed through so many women it was embarrassing, not a bragging point like I’d once thought. Since the age of fifteen, sex had been my thing. I loved it, didn’t care who gave it, I was having it. What I was looking for or running from, I had no idea, thinking back on the way I used to live my life - I was downright ashamed. I’d never led anyone on, always made sure every lady I’d fucked around with knew the score. No strings. Just a good time and a place to sink my dick and let off steam for a few hours. That’s what we blokes did, right? Plenty women wanted the same thing. I didn’t leave a string of broken hearts behind me and never promised anything I couldn’t or wouldn’t deliver on. Only one got messy, and to this day I maintained I wasn’t the one to blame.
I’d examined Lucca’s life long ago and decided there was no fucking way I was signing up for that crock of shit. Poor bastard. His gold digging, bitch of a wife would have been enough to scare anyone from thinking about settling down. Stella saw Lucca coming a mile off, sank those claws in deep and refused to let go. He’d lived a life of hell for a long time. For not having ever wanted to hit a woman, I’d come close with Stella more than once. I was so ready for her shit to be done. Lucca was ready for it too, whether he was fully aware or not. He had so much to give if only he could get out from under the poisonous bitch he’d married. Stella had cheated and lied her way through twenty years of marriage, destroying my best friend in the process. She’d sucked him so dry it was too painful to watch anymore.
Lucca didn’t know half the shit his wife had gotten up to over the twenty years of hell he’d endured. In retrospect, I think he chose not to, it was his way of dealing. Extremely clever or extremely stupid? I wasn’t sure. I almost, almost, entertained the invitations she threw at me on a regular basis to fuck her, just so I could put the final nail in the coffin and he’d leave. I couldn’t do it. My betrayal would have killed him. I wasn’t losing my best friend over a woman who wasn’t even worth the shit on the bottom of my size tens. I loved the man too much.
Now there was Taylor...
A woman who was turning my life upside down in all the best possible ways. We hadn’t slept together this time around - yet. I hadn’t had sex for about seven months and was enjoying the taking it slow thing we were doing. Reconnecting, getting to know each other, learning how we liked things. I wanted to show her what we were building was special, to show her I wanted ‘home’ like I’d said. My poor dick hated me.
Me and my clever ideas, huh?
Only this time I had Lucca with me - all in. We were both unconsciously searching for the same thing when I’d brought him down to Beaufort. I was sizing up a new way to start my life with Taylor, Lucca was just hoping for a start. He didn’t like the idea initially, more down to location than anything else, I couldn’t blame him. Our history down South was deep and complicated. As long as we didn’t get dragged back into old vendettas supposedly long dead, all would be well. Lucca made ridiculously sma
rt business decisions even if his personal ones were poor. I wanted him here with me, I wasn’t ready for our professional lives together, to be over.
All in, was all in.
I could feel in my bones that it was the right decision to make, a life changing decision, for us both. He needed that final push, so I lent him a hand. And now? Now, we were standing in the middle of the old Lewis restaurant we’d bought, talking about going to the local bar.
It was time he met my girlfriend, my future wife, my baby maker. Because I sure as hell was having babies with that beauty of a woman. I sure as hell was putting a ring on her finger. And if I had to piss on her to mark my territory, then hell yes, I’d do that too.
* * *
I was pissed at Lucca, furious with Stella. Of course, Lucca slinked off when she’d called. What the fuck was she doing? Why couldn’t she leave him the fuck alone?
The minute I saw Taylor and her sister come into the bar, my irritation settled. I was nervous to meet Laura. The initial wave of guardedness she gave off when I’d met her, soon melted away the more we drank and got comfortable with one another. She was a contradiction - shy and reserved but a hoot of a laugh in the next breath.
Now, the girls were dancing like there was no tomorrow and it was the best night I’d had out in ages. Lucca, the douche, didn’t know what he was missing. I’d texted him our selfie, hoping the poor sod was kicking himself for picking up his bitch of an ex-wife instead of sitting next to Taylor’s very attractive sister. Both girls were beautiful, yet not pretentiously so, they didn’t seem to care that they were getting sweaty dancing, or that their lipstick had rubbed off hours before. Together, they had a carefree attitude I’d not seen in Taylor until then, these girls were close. Closer than even Lucca and me.