by KT Morrison
They were still in bed. Laying in his daughter’s bed. His little Odie, the light in his life, his shining diamond, away at Camp, learning about nature, learning to canoe, set up a tent, how to camp. Her mom and dad at home doing the worst of the worst. Reprobates. Her mother getting railed in her bed while she was gone. Her little pink princess bed. An ogre had held down Geoff’s princess and stroked his warty, ogre cock until it sprayed its awful slime in the princess’ pretty mouth.
“Fuck,” he whispered, clenched his jaw and looked up above him into the cavern of winter coats. Rocco was moving now, turning to Nia. She lay on her side, her hands behind her back, Rocco behind her. Her mouth worked, her lips moving around, come dripping from her cheeks and running over her face probably, tickling her. Rocco watched her breathe. A strange moment where this unfeeling animal seemed to have sympathy for the object it just defiled. His hands worked behind her back. Her arms came free and she brought them around to her front. She looked sore, stiff. She wrung her hands together, flexed her wrists, worked out the aches from his binding. Rocco still watched her. He put a hand up then, felt her upper arm. His rough hand holding her gently, just for a moment while he watched her blind face look to the ceiling. Then he sat up, left her laying there. He looked around the room, got up, walked out naked, his deflated cock swinging against his legs. Geoff heard him in the hall, lowered the monitor and listened. He heard the porcelain crack, toilet seat being banged up. Then spurting urine. Loud gulps as his urethra struggled with its new activity, three, four big blasts then, resolved, it let loose a steady torrent of piss. It sounded like ten men peeing into the toilet. Roiling water, bubbling and splashing.
Geoff raised the monitor up again to watch it, the slender thing suddenly feeling like it was fifty pounds now. Nia raised herself, sat on the edge of the bed. She tore the shirt away from her face, wiped her mouth and chin and neck, threw it to the floor. Her hands went through her hair, shook it out. She got up, crouched and stepped to her purse laying on the floor. She went through it, both hands in the bag, found her iPhone and sat herself back down on the bed. Her thumbs tapped away and Geoff’s phone buzzed in his pants pocket. He fished it out with a leaden arm and looked at his screen.
Nia: I’m right here baby, so close. Just through the wall. I love you. I hope you love me.
He watched her, watched the woman he loved so much, sitting naked, hunched over her iPhone held in her lap. Her tummy bunched up, her pretty breasts hanging forward, moving gently with her breathing, her nipples still plump and engorged. She was watching the phone, wanting to hear from him.
Her shoulders slumped, her head hung forward. She typed again. His phone buzzed.
Nia: Geoff?
G-Force: I love you.
Nia: Are you mad?
G-Force: No
But he was. He was mad. He could never see her the same again. She’d ruined everything. But now he knew. He wanted to know and she fucking showed him. And he never loved her more for some reason, never felt a stronger urge to whisk her up in his arms and squeeze her tight and make everything in her world all right again. But she was forever changed. That was his Nia he’d just watched. That was the girl and that was what she did twelve years ago, then come and lay on his couch and watch him bake and cry about boys. That was the dangerous world outside his Geoff-space.
The toilet flushed above him. The shower squeaked on, the hot water hissing.
Nia: You okay?
G-Force: yeah
Nia stared at her screen. Her posture slumped. Her body curled up, her head going to her knees. Both hands still clutched to her phone. Her connection with Geoff. He was hurting her right now.
He texted.
G-Force: Don’t cry baby. I love you so much. I love you more than ever I swear
NIA
She went too far. She showed him who she was, and it was a big mistake.
She lay on him now, the man she loved. They were in the studio, five minutes before seven o’clock. He was on his back on his leather couch, his head propped up on the arm, a pillow between. He had his forearm across his hairline, his head turned to the screen of an iMac across the darkened room, waiting for a call. She was laying on him. Head to toe, her body rested over top of his. She had her head in the crook of his neck, her cheek pressed to his jaw. Her chest was pressed to his, her hips to his, her legs...she held him, both her hands peacefully up on his breathing chest.
After she and Rocco had fucked and Rocco was out of the shower, the two of them had pieced Odie’s room back together silently. Two lovers hiding their evidence from the cuckold husband. He’d broken Odie’s reading lamp. How symbolic. They’d defiled her daughter’s sheets. They stripped the bed and she put the bedding in the laundry. She’d had a shower too, then they left and went back to work. She didn’t know Geoff was hiding in the closet that whole time.
When she got home, he told her what he wanted to do for his birthday. Frankly, it sounded wonderful. He wanted her to not wear any makeup, asked her to wear her cotton pants, flip-flops, put her hair in a ponytail. He’d said, Come with me to the Bakery and we’ll just have a simple little dinner like we used to. She’d said, That’s what you want? He’d said, Nia, I need it so bad, okay? She agreed, said, Yeah, baby...yeah, I can do that.
He didn’t want to talk about what happened today. It was killing her, but he had complete control right now. She was afraid for her life. If Geoff didn’t love her anymore, she would kill herself. Without a doubt she would end her life. He said he loved her, he pet her hair when he said it but he was distant. Very distant. His voice robotic. She’d broken him. She’d broken boys before.
A Skype box appeared on his iMac, accompanied by a bubbly-texture, playful tone letting them know Odie was calling.
“That’s her,” he said. He didn’t even smile.
He climbed out from under her and she let him up, watched him cross to his office chair and sit down in front of his monitor. She padded across behind him, pulled a chair over and sat next to him, wheeled herself close til they touched.
Then Odie was on the screen, their big, gregarious girl, bouncing around in her seat, waiting to see her parents on the screen she was sitting in front of.
“Aw, look at her tan, Geoff,” Nia cooed, and she put both her hands around Geoff’s bare forearm.
Their daughter was in the main office of the camp, at the home base, sitting on a wooden rocking chair by a glossy log wall. She was with a counselor; they’d agreed she could talk to her dad on his birthday. Make a technology exception because of the special occasion.
“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Odie said. A big smile breaking her face wide. She was so happy to see him. She was tanned as could be, so dark brown, her black hair tied back in a ponytail, much like Nia now. She wore a pale yellow-custard Camp shirt with the Arrowhead logo in orangey-pink. She had about half a dozen friendship bracelets on each tiny wrist. Leather straps, and beads in every colour. Their little girl was very popular.
“Hi, Odie,” Geoff said, happy to see her, but talking like he had a ton of bricks on his back.
She waved both palms at him bouncing in her seat, the chair rocking with her excitement. Geoff finally smiled. Nia rubbed a hand on his back.
Odie told them all about her week. She told them about all the things she learned. How she could get in the canoe, how she learned to paddle, she slept in a tent, she tipped over a kayak, she roasted marshmallows, said she told them all about some headless lumberjack. That made her giggle, and she looked sheepishly over at the off-screen counselor. The counselor laughed as well, whatever it was about.
“You okay, Dad?” Odie asked.
“Yeah, why?”
“You look like you’ve been crying.”
“What? No, no I—”
Nia hugged him, put both arms around him, saw herself in the corner screen that showed what Odie saw. There was Geoff’s sad face next to hers. She laughed, said to Odie, “He’s sad he’s getting old.”
Od
ie giggled her high, little girl sounds, said, “Dad is getting old.”
Then Geoff’s hand was on her back and in the moment before he hugged her she saw the corner of his mouth curled in a slight smile.
GEOFF
He held her hand while they ate at the bakery. She wanted to talk about what she’d done today but he wasn’t ready. She wanted absolution and he wasn’t ready to give it. Why? Because he was a piece of shit, that’s why. Fucking begged her to do what she did, now he was mad at her. The things he saw today though were more than he’d imagined.
Geoff ordered French Toast for his birthday. Eating breakfast at night in this bakery reminded him of Odie and he missed her more than ever right now. A little slice of her innocence was what he could really use at this moment. Nia ordered the same as Geoff. Wanting to be like him, wanting to be close to him. A dark part of him enjoyed her torment.
They were mostly silent and Nia looked worn while she ate. The two of them in their favourite place to eat, their upscale bakery-slash-diner with their fancy takes on traditional staples. Sitting in their amber-lit booth by a window looking out onto their evening blue neighbourhood. Comfy clothes, no makeup, hands across the table, fingers laced, eating breakfast at eight o’clock with stainless forks. If it weren’t for their malaise, it would be perfect.
He wanted a heart-to-heart. He liked her suffering right now but he knew he couldn’t do it much longer. Knew he would surrender to what had happened, and since he was smart, once his heart had recovered from the pornographic show she’d given him for his birthday, he’d use it the way he intended. To be closer to the woman he loved. Wouldn’t be easy. Even with a mouthful of maple syrup and holding her hand, two of his most favourite things, he was getting gruesome flashes. Nia’s arms bound, her screams, the size of Rocco’s cock, fear of being discovered by Rocco, when she spit on him, how he said she couldn’t scratch him this time, jerking his cock into her wide-open, expectant mouth, and, of course, when that man made her come so hard she tinkled all over their daughter’s bed.
“Ow,” Nia said.
“Sorry.” He let her hand go, his fingers had clenched in his dreadful cogitation and he was crushing her.
Nia pushed her plate away, barely ate her French Toast. Her arms hugged herself while she hunched forward and watched him eat.
She whispered, “Geoff, what can I do? I’m sorry, okay?”
“I’m fine, Nia. I’m just going to need some t—”
“Do you hate me?”
“Oh my God, no, Nia, are y—”
“Do you think I’m disgusting?”
He didn’t know. He was disgusted. How could he tell her that? He’d asked to know her completely, she’d shown him, and it was more than he’d bargained for. What kind of asshole would be disgusted by someone he loves? How could he think like that?
He pushed his plate away and he reached across to her and she took his hands with hers. He pulled her to him and their lips met over the centre of the table, under the single, hanging, vintage, tungsten bulb.
GEOFF
He lay on their bed with her, the most amazing woman he’d ever known. Face to face, on their sides, neither of them with a stitch of clothing. The house was empty. The two of them alone in the place they’d raised their daughter since she was born.
Odie’s bedroom door was open down the hall. On the way up here, the two of them kissing and disrobing as they went, they passed their daughter’s vacant room. Her bed stripped bare, room stinking of bleach. And you know what? That was okay. He’d be okay with what happened today.
“Why do you like it so rough?” he asked her.
Her fingers scratched through his beard and she said, “I don’t know.”
“Maybe some dumb little part of me thought I would see something today and I would learn. Learn something and then apply it...to please you, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“What I saw today...it’s not something I could ever do.”
“I’m sorry.”
He put his hand over hers, said, “No, Nia. That has nothing to do with you. I just found out today that I can never be everything for you.”
“You are my everything, Geoff.”
“I can never give you what you like.”
“You’re making too big a deal out of it.”
“It was hard for me to realize I’m not enough...”
“Geoff, you wanted to watch me—”
“I know, Nia, I—”
“No, Geoff, you wanted to watch me and I accepted it. I didn’t ask why, I didn’t make a big deal..I get you. You understand? I get you.”
“You do?”
“Don’t ask why—just get me...I know you have that capacity in your heart to accept and forgive, just let me be...I don’t know...fucking crazy. Don’t ask why, just accept me for who I am, that's all I ever wanted.”
“I accept you.”
“That’s all I ever dared to want from this. I wanted to please you, give you what you wanted...and I wanted you to know me.”
“You were scared?”
“So scared, Geoff. Scared to show you the truth.”
She needed to be taken care of, she needed help. His poor wife. Fucking crazy. His arms went around her and he pulled her naked body close. “I really accept you, Nia. I get you. I really get you.”
“You’re gonna stick with me?”
He laughed, said, “Through thick and thin.”
Her nails scratched at his back, their sharp edges running thrilling lines along his shoulder blades. His nipples hardened against her.
She whispered in his ear, “I didn’t suck your cock for your birthday.”
“I know, I was disappointed.”
“You want it now?”
“How about...”
“What?”
“Something you’ve done with another man but you’ve never done with me, that’s what I want.”
“That’s hot, Geoff. I really like that.”
“It is hot, right?”
“Fuck, let me think,” she said coyly, batting her eyes at him and biting a thumbnail.
“Something dirty.”
“I know, I know.”
She decided. It made her smile. She kissed his chest and his hands came off her and let her go. Let her do what she wanted. Her kisses took her down between his nipples and over his sternum. Her plump lips pressed his linea alba, down, down to his belly button. He was hard before but by the time her kisses brought her there he was wooden. He ached to feel her mouth on him. She kissed alongside his hipbone, followed the seam on his thigh. Her hair tickled at his scrotum, got caught up on his protruding penis. Her hands guided him, pushed him on his waist and he let her move him like that so he was laying on his back. Her hands went behind his thighs and brought his knees up.
“Oh, wow,” he gasped as her warm mouth swallowed both his testicles. She pulled them, dropped them, sucked them up again, and he would do anything to have his penis touched.
She kissed lower. She lay on her side now next to him, upside down, her knees up to his ribs, her feet splayed even with his head. She had pretty feet. Her tongue was darting under his scrotum, working lower. He squirmed. He wanted to stop her but he wanted to find out what this might feel like. His legs opened wider for her. Her tongue worked him, probed his anus, his eyebrows raised right up into his hairline and he moaned.
“Whoa, Nia,” he sighed.
She gripped his cock and it startled him. It felt so amazing to have it held by her. She stroked him only with a thumb. Up and down his underside, swirling the top, pressing his urethra. Her tongue continued to work.
Earlier tonight she’d been his Nia. At the restaurant, in her casual clothes and her hair pulled back, she was as he’d known her. His Nia didn’t put on heels for him, lingerie. She didn’t engage in rough sex.
Right now, however, she was the other Nia. Her tongue in his ass, working to make him come with her thumb. She was two people. She was more than the woman he kn
ew. This was the one he wanted to know as scared of her as he was. This was the one who sucked him in the biker bar, sucked Rocco and recorded it for him, got tied up and railed on her daughter’s bed while he watched.
He whispered, “You’ve done this with another man?”
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed between his legs.
“Who?”
She shrugged.
“Dino?”
She shrugged again.
“Dino, right?”
She nodded.
“Others?”
She nodded again.
He smiled even though it made no sense to smile. His hands came up and covered his face and his heart raced at the crazy things his wife was doing to him right now; to his brain, to his body, his heart, his cock, balls and anus...
“Why’d you never do this with me if you’ve done it with other men?”
“You’re too nice. I thought I would freak you out,” she said, her breath tickling his saliva soaked scrotum.
“Maybe you would.”
“Right?”
“Yeah.”
Did all those men leave her after they fucked the shit out of her because she was so dirty? They couldn’t stand to be with her for more than sex. They couldn’t look her in the eye in the light of day after the things they’d done with her.
Could he be the one who could take it? The one who could allow her to be her wild dirty self? To not judge her and condemn her and call her a whore and leave her. He loved her so much but she’d shaken him. Shaken his understanding of her.