“Say it,” Jeremy said, smiling.
Leigh stared at him, tried to move some more, then closed her eyes. “I liked swallowing Craig’s cum,” she said. She opened her eyes again. “I liked sucking on his cock, too.”
It was the filthiest thing he ever could have imagined Leigh saying.
He released his grip on her hair, which he hadn’t even been aware he was doing, and then he fucked his cum into her hard.
7: AFTERWARD
Leigh set the brown bag of groceries down on the counter and waited for the crumpling sound to die down, almost holding her breath in the silence.
She heard the clock, and the hum of the air conditioner.
The house was otherwise silent.
A pang of guilt for hoping for such a thing traveled through her.
But the truth was plain as day: she was happy Jeremy wasn’t home.
Another little ripple of guilt bit its way down her spine as she left the groceries and walked, almost trance-like, to the hallway. Up the small flight of steps and into the master bedroom.
She closed the door, and paused with her hand on the handle.
Should she lock it?
She felt strange, standing there, wondering such a thing. It was a hot day; she had forgotten to close the curtains and the room had grown a little stuffy in the sunlight. It was bright, sunny, so normal. And here she was, wondering whether or not to lock the door in case her husband came home.
She opted not to. It would only look more suspicious if it were.
She looked around the room, and finally settled on going into the bathroom and taking a shower. After all, Jeremy could come home any moment, and if he did, what would she tell him?
She ruminated on this for only a moment, arriving at only half of a plan.
But she was sidetracked from her explanations, her guilt, her.. plan… by the very thing that had made her do something like this each day. The very thing that had made her rush home early on Monday, forget half of her groceries today.
She turned on the water and slipped out of her clothes.
While she stared into the shower, watching it steam up, slipping her underwear down to the floor, her eyes became fixated on the shower-head.
The pulse massage function.
She already ached between her legs. It had been like this for a week now.
What she had done with Craig had been very, very bad. Very crazy. She didn’t want to do it again – she shouldn’t have even agreed to it to begin with. And she knew that they needed to stop this in its tracks. She didn’t want to go down some path of “open relationships” and debauchery.
That didn’t change the fact that all she had to do was think about Craig’s cock, hard, hot, slightly damp between her breasts, or the feel of him in her mouth as his crown slid over her soft palate and into her throat – all while her husband watched her. It didn’t change the fact that thinking about Craig’s voice, telling her that she was doing a good job, made her panties wet and her pussy ache in a way that she had to – she had to – do something about.
There were other things she didn’t even like admitting to herself, and she pushed them out of her mind to climb into the shower. She didn’t like thinking about how her heart raced when she thought about Craig. She didn’t like thinking about the very naughty feeling that fueled her pulse like a drug when she thought about doing bad, slutty things in front of her husband.
She held the shower head in her hand while she slid her fingers into the soaked folds of her pussy with the other. She jumped a little as her fingers moved over her clit.
She’d never been this… what was the word for it, even? Aroused? Horny? Oversexed? Obsessed?… before in her life. She couldn’t stop thinking about the scene that had played out in her living room.
She knew that Craig had filmed it.
The thought – the dirty little secret she was keeping to herself – rose up in her mind and sent a wave of perverse pleasure through her.
She had looked over for just a moment and seen him there, through Jeremy’s arm and her own heaving breasts. The glimmer of his phone, held away from him. Filming.
When she had seen it, it had pushed her over the edge.
What had he filmed, she wondered?
She turned the shower head on pulse. The water pumped against her skin in hard, fast pulses. Pulses that would feel so good against her clit.
She moved the shower-head down her body, and used her other hand to spread her pussy lips open. When the hot, pulsing water struck her clit on the hard ridge, she gasped.
But it would feel better in the center.
She drew the hood of her clit up with one finger and twisted the shower-head until the pulses of water were landing squarely on the face of her clit.
She doubled over, letting out a loud gasp and leaning forward to push on the wall. She moved the shower head.
It was too much.
She was shaking as she tried it again. The waves of pleasure that rolled over her were so intense she thought she couldn’t go on, but she pushed herself to do it. Very quickly, she felt an orgasm rise up and shatter through her.
She twisted the shower-head and sprayed the regular spray over her body.
It was dissatisfying, as nice as it had been. She had barely had time to think of what she wanted to think of.
That’s good Leigh, you’re doing a very good job.
She slid down the wall of the shower and spread her legs open. Just the way she’d love to spread her legs for Craig.
Or maybe he wouldn’t want that. Craig seemed like the kind of man who liked to take a woman from behind, so he could grab her and really pound himself into her.
She imagined Jeremy watching, watching her spread her legs or bend over, all so he could watch her, all so she could be a naughty slut for him.
She guided the shower head to her sensitive clit and closed her eyes, imagining Craig pushing her to her knees, holding his cock in hand, inviting her to suck it. She could almost feel his dick in her mouth, almost too fat, far too long to ever get it all the way in.
The pulses of the shower struck against her clit and made her legs jerk with each spurt. It was so overwhelming it almost didn’t even feel good, which was fine, just what she wanted, giving her more time to think about Craig making her serve him. While Jeremy watched.
It wasn’t long before the pleasure began to build, and she ached for a while as the water battered her clit. She pictured herself being used all night by Craig, filled in every hole, bent over and spread open, pushed onto his cock with his fingers on the back of her head. Breathless and sore, unable to take any more.
She opened her eyes and stared down at her clit as the water splashed against it. “Ohhhh,” she whined. She threw her head back against the shower and squeezed her eyes. “Oh, Craig, oh, stop, I can’t take any more!” she said, so caught up in her fantasy that she could almost feel him between her legs.
She was so caught up that she didn’t notice at all that her husband had come home five minutes ago, and was watching from the doorway.
*
Jeremy had a sense of what he was going to see before he saw it.
Since the night with Craig, his wife had seemed different somehow, even if everyone – Craig, Billie, Leigh, and himself – was playing it cool, like nothing happened. There was something different about Leigh.
She was lost in her own thoughts much more than ever before. Leigh was the kind of woman who was incredibly present most of the time. It was something Jeremy loved about her, even if he didn’t really know how to articulate to himself what that aspect of her personality was. A lot of women seemed to be out of the room, their mind somewhere else. This was never the case with Leigh, whose eyes always seemed keenly bright, her face always had an expression like she was listening. In a way, she was always “on.”
Since the night with Craig, though, this had changed very noticeably. Leigh often had a vacant look in her eyes. It wasn’t so much that she wasn
’t able to carry on a conversation, or missed anything that he said. No, it was just her response time, a little delayed. Her eyes, a little far away.
And he had noticed other things as well – small little details about her daily routine. Tiny details, really. Some things were so small he wasn’t sure if they were different than before or if he just hadn’t noticed them. On Tuesday she had been standing in front of the mirror, appraising her appearance by turning from side to side, appraising her waist and, he could see by where her eyes were directed, her cleavage.
It was very unlike Leigh to do that. He couldn't even remember the last time she had done it. She did it absent-mindedly, like it wasn’t even part of her conscious thought. And then she had sauntered out of the room, some kind of sexy tilt to her step.
Maybe he was imagining things.
Another day during the week, she had spritzed a sexy scent on her chest. Just a light mist of a perfume he had bought her in New York on a business trip. One she rarely wore, because she rarely wore perfume. The droplets had atomized and landed all over her chest, almost as if she had wanted that particular part of her body to smell especially good.
Maybe he had not been as observant of his wife all this time. This was another distinct possibility. They had been married quite a while. He was so used to her presence, the normalness of it, the uneventfulness of it, that even though he loved her, he didn’t pay as much attention to her as he did now.
Now, everything about her came into sharp relief. Every time she spritzed perfume or tied up her hair, slipped on a pair of panties or looked at herself in the mirror, checking out how her butt looked in a skirt, he paid a great deal of attention to it.
She had come home early a couple of days. Usually she ended up staying late at the school, working on her lesson plans and the work she was doing for her online degree.
He didn’t know what to think of her coming home early. Wasn’t a man supposed to worry if his wife came home late? But there was something about the way she looked when he came home: flushed, a little out of sorts. Unable to explain why she was there with any real conviction. One night she had claimed that she preferred to do her research reading at home, which directly contradicted everything he’d ever heard her say about research or reading. Another night she’d claimed to not feel well, which was probably as close to the truth as things got, but it wasn’t like Leigh to abandon work she needed to do over a cold that obviously wasn’t that bad. What’s more, she had seemed healthy all night and had never mentioned feeling unwell again.
Jeremy had been pondering all of this, as well as the proximity to their neighbor’s house. It couldn’t be that Leigh – who didn’t even seem that sure about what they had done on Saturday night – was now having an affair with Craig, could it?
It was absurd, of course. His wife of eight years was not going to drop everything they had to go over and have a wild affair with Craig in the middle of the week just because she had liked the way his cock felt in her mouth one Saturday. After doing something she hadn’t really been that gung-ho about anyway.
Was she?
The jealous burn that crawled through him when he thought about it was painful and delightful at the same time. He didn’t want to ask Leigh about something so ridiculous, and risk her getting annoyed with him. But he also didn’t want to say anything because he was enjoying the feeling too much; if she told him yes, or she told him no, the feeling would change into something else. Something less pleasurable, less fun.
So he decided to play a sort of game instead.
That’s how he found her in the bathroom on Friday afternoon, legs spread, shower-head pointed at her throbbing, swollen clit, her eyes shut and her head leaning back against the tile while she moaned:
“Oh Craig, oh stop, I can’t take any more.”
Jeremy froze for only a moment, staring at the scene in utter disbelief.
Then he stepped to the right, and behind the wall. When the image disappeared from his eyes his brain slammed back into thinking mode. A cold weight went heavy in his chest, pressing on his heart.
He backed out of the room, and walked, trance-like, down the hallway and out to the garage. He thought about turning the car on, backing out quietly and taking a drive around the block, but in the end he just sat there for a few minutes.
He hated to admit that he felt a little betrayed. He knew it wasn’t fair for him to feel like that – after all, whatever was in Leigh’s mind was her own business. And as far as what she had actually done? He was the one who had pressured her into doing it. It had been his idea, his fantasy.
Was it her fault now if she was fantasizing about Craig?
But this wasn’t what he had wanted.
Not really.
Or was it?
He couldn’t tell. His cock was hard, his chest hurt like he was getting punched, he felt cold all over and yet he also felt about as turned on as he ever had.
His mind went back to the image of his wife masturbating on the shower floor. Fuck. It was hot as hell, no matter what it was she was thinking about.
He pulled the key from the ignition, and marched into his house.
*
Leigh was stepping out of the shower when he reached the Master Bedroom. Leigh let out a little shout, a lot like the one she had given when he had caught her changing up her dress, what seemed like ages ago.
Jeremy watched the surprise and the guilt wash over her face. He enjoyed it, whether that was something to be proud of or not. He enjoyed the way Leigh wrestled with her feelings, the way they pulled her in two directions.
But enough of that. He was growing tired of waiting for her to make up her mind.
“You’re home early,” Leigh said, stepping toward him. She seemed to be recovering her composure.
“Actually,” Jeremy said, “I was home a little earlier than this.”
Leigh’s face went pale and she looked at him sharply.
He moved to the bed and sat down on it, close enough to reach out and pull Leigh to him by the backs of her knees. She went to him, a little reluctantly.
He pulled her closer, and then tugged on the edge of the towel to open it up and then pull it completely apart. The wine-colored fabric split open and hung for a second on her full breasts before sliding off of them, down her body, and to the floor. Droplets of water still clung to her navel, the insides of her thighs, and the downy hair between her legs.
He was starting to realize, as he did this, that what Leigh really wanted was direction. As much as she might have professed to be a feminist in the company of others, deep down inside she really wasn’t.
She wanted to explore outside of their marriage as much as he did, but she didn’t want to be the one to take the lead. He could see that now. It was clear as day, and she had never really hidden it. This was Leigh of conservative dresses and pony-tails, Leigh who loved putting on an act of being innocent, but really liked getting down and dirty.
She just didn’t want to be the one to take the lead.
Jeremy placed his hand on her hip, and pushed his thumb into the light bush between her thighs. His fingertip pushed through silky hair until it plunged into the silken, hot jelly between her lips: I saw what you were doing,” he said. He felt Leigh’s body go stiff beneath his hand, and he gripped her so that she couldn’t move away.
He grazed his mouth over her pussy, inhaling her scent, which he could smell beneath the fresh soap of the shower.
He looked up at her. “Leigh,” he said. “I think it’s time we did something more than just pretend.”
Here eyes were wide with excitement. He could see now that this is what she wanted, even if she was about to act as though it wasn’t.
She started to shake her head, and Jeremy shook his in time with hers. “Don’t tell me that this isn't what you want,” he said. He slid his finger through the hot butter of her cunt, and then brought them to his mouth to suck the tangy juice off. “I think we both know that’s just a lie.”
Leigh’s lips were parted, and she gasped as he worked his fingers back in to find her clit. By now she must have been quite sore, because each stroke of his finger sent a shudder through her that made her legs shake.
Leaving his fingers inside of her, he stood up, bringing his body close to hers and dipping his fingers inside of her to pinch her clit from the inside and out. Leigh gasped, but she didn’t move away.
He turned her around and lined her up to fall on the bed, then pushed her slowly onto the bed, pulling his fingers from inside of her as he did. He unbuckled his pants, holding Leigh’s legs together with his knees as he did, looking down at her to let her.
“Sit up,” he said, holding his cock out for her. Leigh pushed herself up and opened her mouth to take him inside. He placed his hand on the back of her head, and pushed her forward to the base of his cock. He looked down at her, and she looked back at him.
Leigh hadn’t engaged in act of such complete submission to him for years. It nearly sent him over the edge. He could feel cum boiling up at the base of his cock, and he tried to distract himself by thinking of something – anything else.
But it was almost too late, he was almost over the edge.
“Leigh,” he said, moving her head along the length of his shaft. Leigh sucked on his cock diligently, her mouth wet and pliant, hot and welcoming. Her eyes were locked on his. “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to make a plan, and you are going to let me watch while Craig Oswald fucks you just like you imagined in the shower back there.” He gripped her hair. “Aren’t we?”
Leigh responded by making a sound in her throat, but he was already exploding in her mouth before the vibration reached his senses. She gurgled as her mouth and throat filled with his cum, and his head filled with images of Craig plunging his cock into his wife’s pussy.
*
“You’re totally serious about this,” Leigh said, resting her head on his chest. “It’s not some kind of thing like dirty talk where you don’t really mean it.”
Leigh Uncovered: A Wife Sharing Novel Page 15