by Ben Boswell
“It’s not always that simple,” I noted.
“No,” Terri replied. “I should think not. Not when the affairs of the heart run headlong into the disruptions of the mind.”
“Disruptions? Is this my mind we’re talking about, or yours?”
Terri laughed. “I’m kinky. I admit it. But you’re tormented. So we need to deal with that.”
“I’m tormented because you’re kinky. Because you’ve got a thing for baddies and daddies, and I’m neither one of those.”
“And what do you think that implies?”
I shrugged. Isn’t it obvious?
“I promise, I won’t get mad. Say it,” she insisted.
I sighed. “It means that some day you’re going to….” I trailed off.
“What? Leave you? For a Chucky? A Brian?”
I nodded. “Something like that.”
She smiled but seemed to catch herself. “I’m tempted to laugh, but I won’t. We’ve been together for over ten years. We have kids. A home. A life together. It’s… it’s crazy.”
“Terri –“
“Ah ah, no, Bill, let me finish. It’s crazy, but I get that that is your fear. And, I think that is what makes it exciting for you too.”
“How do you figure?”
“Well, you do fear it, and it does excite you. I mean, we know both those things. But those aren’t as inconsistent as they seem. It turns out, we often eroticize our own fears.”
“Oh?”
“I did some research on it.”
It annoyed me that she was psychoanalyzing me. It annoyed me even more that her diagnosis rang true. I decided to turn it back on her.
“So, does that explain your bad boy kink?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe…. It is a little scary when you’re a young girl and suddenly, um, blossoming. The way men start to look at you. And of course, it’s the bad boy types who don’t bother hiding it. So, yeah, I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe it’s just evolution. Lots of women are subconsciously attracted to men who can act as a protector, even if consciously we want partners instead.”
“So, I’m a partner rather than a protector?”
“And I’m a sexed-up floozy who can’t keep her legs together when there is a jerk or a silver fox around?”
“I didn’t say that,” I interjected.
“Of course you did. But I know you don’t mean it. Or maybe you mean it, but not in a bad way.” She laughed softly, more to herself than anything else.
She grabbed a handful of ornaments and resumed dressing the tree. I watched her, noting the precisely calibrated casualness of her movements.
“Okay, so… I still don’t know what we do about this,” I said.
Terri remained silent. I could sense she had more to say, but I could also see that she wanted me to make the first move.
I groaned, and then slowly began to think out loud. “I wish I wasn’t turned on by it… but I am. And I wish I didn’t fear losing you… but I do. So… I guess… there is only one plausible course of action.”
She couldn’t contain herself any longer. She turned to face me. “And that is?”
“I need to turn you loose… “
She raised an eyebrow at that.
I continued, “…until you or I or both of us get bored of it and until I learn from experience that no matter what you do with other men, you won’t leave me.”
She just looked at me. Not judging, but curious. Not eager, but confident.
“What I mean, by ‘turn you loose’ is that I don’t want to be in on this anymore. I don’t want you to feel like you need my permission, or prior approval.”
“Why not? I mean, that’s worked out fine. It feeds your obsession, but still gives you some control over things.”
“The illusion of control. And it lets you deny how much you’re driving the train.”
“So, your proposal is to just make me the conductor and let me set my own timetables,” she countered.
I nodded, swallowing the bile that was threatening to choke me. “And then we’ll see for sure where the tracks take us.”
She suddenly snapped. “Fuck the train analogy! Let’s put this plainly. You want me to go ahead and have sex with any man who catches my eye because if I do that and stay with you it will erase your fear that I will someday leave you. But I can’t just be monogamous because if I do that, you’ll suspect that I secretly want to cheat, and you can’t live with the anxiety that provokes in you.”
It sounded crazy, but it also made sense to me. I nodded.
“And I’m the one in denial?” she asked rhetorically. “You don’t see how this is just a way for you to get what you want without taking responsibility?”
“What do you mean?”
“You want me to fool around with other men, but in this construction, it has nothing to do with you, it’s all about my so-called uncontrollable impulses.”
“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I mean, just like I can’t control the fact that it turns me on, you can’t control that –“
“I’m a raging slut.”
“A sensuous, exciting woman,” I said.
“Ha! You’re insane, you know that?”
“I’m not. It’s—“
She strode toward me suddenly. “You’re full of shit,” she hissed as she shoved me hard in the chest with both hands.
I stumbled backward onto the sofa. She launched herself at me. For a second, I thought she might hit me, but instead, she climbed into my lap, straddling me.
“I should give you what you’re asking for. Just go out there and screw any man I find hot. That’s what you really want isn’t it? Never knowing what I’m up to? That constant, omnipresent thought that any time I’m out of your sight, I could be…” she ground against my erection with each word, “right then… fucking… another… man.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but she put her finger to my lips to quiet me.
“Don’t deny it, Husband. That woody in your pants is confirmation enough.” She thrust against me again. “I wasn’t doing it enough for you. Well, how much is enough? How many new cocks a week is going to satisfy you?”
“How many is going to satisfy you?” I shot back.
“Oh, I can’t be satisfied,” she growled. She thrust her hips faster. I thought I could feel her heat and wetness, but since there were four layers of clothes separating us, it was most likely my imagination. She leaned forward and breathed in my ear. “I’m insatiable. But for you, Honey, I’m going to try. You better get used to sloppy seconds, Bill.”
“Oh fuck,” I hissed as I exploded in my pants.
“Oh well,” she sighed. “Looks like it’s toys for me tonight. Or maybe….” She grinned lewdly. “Or maybe I should get started on our project.” She rose suddenly. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I should do.”
Having just come, I was suddenly ambivalent. “Terri….”
She stalked over to the closet and grabbed her jacket and car keys. “Don’t wait up.”
And before I knew it, she was out the door. I heard her car start and the wheels squeak as she accelerated out of the driveway and turned down the street.
“Oh fuck.” I said to myself. What have I done?
CHAPTER NINE
Had she left on good terms with me, or bad? I wasn’t sure. It occurred to me that it didn’t really matter. Either we were on the same page, or she was angry and looking to spite me. In both cases, it meant that her final taunt had been serious. She’d gone out looking to get laid.
I wondered where she would go. To Brian’s bar? I could picture her walking up, noting which side of the bar he was working. Sitting quietly and ordering a white wine. Just a small smile to let him know that, yes, she was here for repeat performance.
Would he take an immediate break, drag her into the back room and bend her over for a quickie? Or would he wait until his shift was over and take her back to his place so he could give her a proper fucking? I thought of him. Young, coc
ky, wildly-hung bastard. Probably both. A quickie just to get warmed up, and then back home after to make her scream with his big prick.
Or maybe, she was calling Mike Coates, the insurance guy. Inviting him out for a coffee. Flirting over lattes before letting him take her home. Older guy, ladies’ man, he’d probably take his time with her. Strip her naked and really enjoy her body. Slowly finger-fucking her shaved pussy while he sucked on her erect nipples. Slowly, slowly, until she came again and again, until she begged him for his cock.
Or maybe she’d want to save those two for another time, and tonight was just about some strange cock. Even in jeans, a ponytail, and a winter jacket, I knew Terri could walk into just about anywhere and find men willing… eager… to fuck her silly.
The come in my pants had cooled into an unpleasant, sticky mess. I went upstairs, tossed them into the hamper and took a quick shower. In the time it took me to wash up and change into my PJs, my dick recovered enough to stiffen.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I had to learn to live with this. Terri now had a free pass, and anytime she wasn’t with me, she was potentially with another man, sucking cock, getting screwed silly. It was exciting, but I knew I couldn’t walk around all day with a hard-on. I had to get my imagination under control. But I couldn’t. Not yet. Not with all of this so fresh in my mind.
Was she with another man already? I dialed her number. It went almost immediately to voicemail. What did that mean? That she was already getting fucked? Or that she just didn’t want to talk to me? The latter was more realistic, and yet my mind flashed to a scene of Terri naked, riding a faceless man, her big tits bouncing up and down as she impaled herself over and over on his fat prick.
I reached into my bottoms. Just a few quick strokes, and… bam, I made another mess.
I changed, but didn’t bother to shower this time. Odds are I’d be creaming my pants again before the night was through.
***
She didn’t come home too, too late. I was in bed, tossing and turning, when a car pulled up to the curb a little before 1:00am. I heard a car door open and then slam shut and the vehicle drove away.
Even if I hadn’t been in a rare state, that would have gotten me worked up. Terri, I knew, had gone out in her own car. It took me less than second to conjure up an explanation. She’d gone out. Had a few drinks. Met a man. He’d offered to drive her home, and on the way, they’d stopped. I could almost see them. Terri with her blouse open, bra pulled down, tits on display, leaning into his lap, sucking some stranger’s cock into her mouth as he gripped her ponytail and guided her head up and down on his shaft.
I heard her come in the front door and put her coat into the foyer closet. I heard her walk into the kitchen and open the fridge. A glass of water to clear the taste of jism from her mouth, surely. Or maybe to rehydrate after a vigorous backseat banging by some rich ‘daddy’ with a roomy sedan. Terri naked and straddling his prick, his hands mauling her ass, finger probing her anus as she moaned in pleasure.
Then I heard her slowly climbing the stairs. Was she just being considerate? Or walking tenderly after being bent over and fucked up the ass by some big dicked jerk who loved hearing her screams?
And then she was in our doorway, backlit by the nightlight in the hallway bathroom. She waited a moment, looking at me, until I moved.
“I figured you’d be awake,” she said. Her voice was rough, a little slurred.
“Get a ride home?” I asked.
“Took a cab.”
“So, did you meet a man?”
She closed the door behind her and walked over to her closet. She causally began stripping off her clothes. Her blouse, then her bra. I’d been sitting in the dark for a while, so even the ambient light was enough for me to see her pretty well, but not well enough to tell if….
“So?” I pressed.
“I met many men.”
She pulled off her jeans and her panties, and stood there a few moments, completely naked. Had she been like this with someone else tonight as well? Had another man had the opportunity to admire her perfect body before ravaging her?
“I mean –“
“Did I fuck anyone?” She slipped on her flannel nightie. “Oh, I know you don’t want to hear the conclusion before the beginning, now, do you Honey?”
“Terri, you have to tell me.”
She had a free pass, which meant she didn’t need permission from me, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have to tell me about it if something happened.
She chuckled and climbed into bed. “I don’t have to do anything, Bill. But I will tell you about tonight--”
I thought of clarifying the point, but I was too curious about tonight to get distracted.
“So, did you?”
“In my own time,” she explained. “See, either I’m driving this train, or I’m not.”
“I thought you didn’t like the train analogy.”
She giggled. “Maybe I’m coming around on it.”
She paused, and I had to bite back the urge to press her again.
Finally she smiled. “I went to Bardos.”
Bardos. I hate that place. Loud. Fifteen dollar martinis, except they don’t have actual martinis on the menu. Everything is apples, peach, mint, coffee, or whatever flavored. Awful music on a quick loop. Stay an hour and you’ll hear the current top-five three times. Everyone just trying way too hard to be hip or cool or relevant. All of that explaining why she’d gone. A shot across the bow. If we do this, I might end up with guys you don’t like.
She’d have been underdressed, but I knew well enough how Terri would deal with that. Unbutton her blouse a little more, tighten her bra, and voila, an expanse of showy cleavage to distract attention from her old jeans and flats.
“And you met a lot of men,” I noted.
“Well, that’s the idea, isn’t it? Meet guys. And if I like one… or more than one… fuck them. Right, Honey, that’s what you want me to do, isn’t it?”
“If that is what you want.”
“Well, I wasn’t sure what I wanted. So, I figured, why not see what they had to offer?”
I felt the color drain from my face. “So, you… what? You….”
She grinned. “Oh, this is good. What are you imagining?”
“You, um, checked their, um, packages?”
She laughed. “Oh God, Bill. You think I care that much about size?”
“Says the woman with a dildo… phallus, I mean, the size and color of her biggest lover.”
She laughed. “Which reminds me, I need to order a Brian-sized one. Though I probably need to arrange a second viewing just to be sure.”
“Bring a ruler,” I grumbled
“A measuring tape will be more useful. What I really want to get right is the girth, not the length. That’s what really makes the difference.” She paused. “But anyway, no I wasn’t looking for the biggest tool, but rather, the most creative plan for how to use it.”
“Um… how did you ascertain that?”
“I just asked them, Silly.” I must have gaped at her because she asked, “Why do you look so shocked? Surely, if you don’t mind me sleeping with other men, you can’t be upset about me talking about sex with strangers.”
“What… what did you say?”
“Well, I pretty much came right out with it. Guys would buy me a drink or come over and chat. You know, the usual bullshit. Come here often? Are you alone? All that stuff. And if he was cute enough, I’d work into it.”
“How?”
“Oh come on, Bill, this is the boring part. Yes, I’m married. No, he’s not here. Yes, I would like a little company. No, I’m not ready to leave yet, but what did you have in mind?”
“And guys, just, what? Told you… what?”
She laughed. “Honey, men love nothing more than an invitation to talk sex with a woman.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, I meant the kind of man who tries to pick up married women in bars loves nothing m
ore.”
“Assholes, in other words.”
She gave me a small shrug. Whatevs. “Let’s play a game. Which of these do you think I found most appealing?”
She didn’t give me a chance to respond. Instead she plowed ahead.
“First up, Rusty. Tall, late-30s. Really slim, but fit. Zero-body fat, triathlete type. Dark hair. The kind of guy who has five o’clock shadow by noon.”
A testosterone factory.
“He took a little prompting. At first all he was willing to offer was a good time, but I told him I needed more details. He invited me back to his place. Condo with a view and fireplace. He took massage lessons, and offered to give me a naked massage in front of the fire. Getting me nice and oiled up. Then wrapped in a warm bathrobe, making out, taking our time. That’s what he really stressed. No rush Baby, I can go all night. Tantric.”
“Did he really say tantric?”
She giggled. “He did. Very intense guy. And like I said, a really long, lean body, angular almost, but sexy.”
“Um, okay, so –“
“Door number two,” she continued. “Chad. Mid-30s. Former frat boy. Looks like he traded in his ballcap for a suit. A bit doughy, puffy. Too much drinking and not enough sleep. But even still, boy-next-door, blond hair, blue eyes. He was the most enthusiastic about my question. I love to eat pussy. He waggled his tongue at me for emphasis.”
“Charming.”
“I wasn’t looking for charm. I was looking for good in bed. He was very graphic. I’m going to lick your lips, and suck on your clit. Then I’m gonna eat your ass until you burst out of your skin. He told me how he was going to finger me. He asked me if I liked a finger in my butt.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth. Of course, Baby, who doesn’t?”
“He must have loved that.”
She laughed. “Actually, I think he was a little disappointed. I think he was hoping I’d be shocked, and intrigued. I guess you’re right about me. I’m such a dirty little slut that even guys in bars looking for a hookup think I’m too much.”
“I’m still pretty sure he’d have gladly banged you,” I noted.
“Who says he didn’t?” She paused to let that sink in.