by KT Morrison
He heard Jess say, Uh-huh, like a question, a high girl-sound trapped in her throat.
Tyler said, “Yeah, oh yeah, don’t stop.”
Pete said, “Jess, what are you doing?”
Jess kept going, plunging and stroking, encouraging noises coming from her.
“Jess, he’s going to come in your mouth.”
She nodded, her eyes were locked on Tyler’s.
“Jess, please, don’t.”
Her hands were stroking him furiously, her lips clamped over his glans.
“Tyler, please don’t come in her mouth.”
“Fuck, fuck, I can’t help it, shit, she’s so fucking good at this, Pete.”
Uh-huh, uh-huh, Jess wanted it, still encouraging him.
“Raaah,” Tyler roared out loud, his abs tightening as his body lifted up off the bed like he was trying to do a sit-up.
He was coming in Jess's mouth.
Pete could look away but he didn’t, he watched it. Let the image burn in his mind, felt the horror, the pain, the agony it produced, the ball of hurt and contempt for himself that swirled like a dark sun in his heart. He watched his wife’s hand milk it into her mouth, her little finger not even as wide as the base of her lover’s cock. He saw the tendons that connected Tyler’s huge dick to his body flex, stand out, cables bulging as he spewed into Jess's mouth.
Jess's eyes were locked on Tyler. She was beautiful. Dark. Dirty. More dirty than he could ever have imagined. She snorted through her nose, trying to breathe with her mouth stuffed full of Tyler’s hard flesh. Her eyes trembled, the cords of her neck stood out, she was trying not to gag. She held it together and drank Tyler’s semen. Her hands kept pumping and twisting, Tyler kept roaring, and the whole time she kept the head of his cock clamped in her mouth.
“Oh, shit, Jess, oh angel, baby...” Tyler’s head came back, and Pete could see his expression, see what his wife was doing to this kid.
Tyler kept pumping and pumping, Jess’s strokes were more careful now, in rhythm with her lover’s pulses. He was still coming and she was still swallowing. Tyler’s chest was heaving, he was sweaty. Pete could see Jess was sweaty too. Tyler was groaning, his breaths shuddering on the exhale.
Jess took her lips off him, sliding them up his big fat cock head, right up over the tip, forming a pout making sure not one drop of his seed escaped. His cock dropped back on his belly, glistening, emptied.
“Mmm,” Jess said, and she ran her hands up his length. “What did you think of that, Petey?”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
Jess opened her mouth to Pete, showed him her white molars, her pink tongue. She stuck it out as far as it would go. Like proving a magic trick. Nothing up my sleeve. Yes, Jess, I see you swallowed every drop.
“Hey, Petey, now I know what he tastes like.”
“Yeah, I guess you do, Jess.”
“Uh-oh, he’s mad,” Tyler said.
“Disappointed, maybe,” Pete said.
“I’m not.” She lay on her belly still between his legs, her feet were brought up behind her and he could see the soles as she crossed them over each other, scissoring them. She was smoothing the underside of Tyler’s cock, watching it under her fingers as she went up and down it.
“Do I taste good?” Tyler asked her. He put his hand down, brushed some hair out of her wet eyes, then held the side of her face. She looked up into his eyes and smiled at him, rested her head in his big palm.
“Mm-hmm,” she said. “Like...like a salty orange rind.”
“Oh, God, Jess. You’re disgusting,” Pete told her.
Jess laughed out loud, afternoon sun glinting on her wet lips. “Pete’s little double-a battery just spits acid,” she said, laughing at her own joke, closing her eyes and shaking, her head falling and resting on Tyler’s thigh.
“That’s really shitty, Jess.”
“I’m joking, Pete.” Then to Tyler, “But he is really bitter.”
“Like his personality.”
Jess laughed, said, “How did it make you feel, watching me suck this beautiful cock?”
“Horrible.”
Tyler said, “How do you do that, Pete? Sit there and watch that? What’s wrong with you?”
“He likes it,” Jess said.
“That is insane. I wouldn’t let anyone touch you.” Tyler reached down and brushed Jess's cheek with his big thumb.
“You should stop Petey from touching me. Climbing on me in the middle of the night and humping my leg with his tiny pecker.”
“Pete, stop touching my girlfriend, okay?”
“I’ll be downstairs.”
“Hey, Pete, come on. We’re only joking,” Jess said, mad he wasn’t playing along.
Pete got up, very aware of his erection poking out the front of his suit pants. Jess saw it too. He closed the front of his suit jacket over to hide it. He walked to the bedroom door.
Jess got up and came after him, stopped him while his hand was on the knob.
“Petey, Petey, baby, come here. I’m only kidding, honey.” She put her arms around his neck and hugged him to her.
Pete put his arms around her, felt the warm slim body of his naked wife. Used to be his wife.
“Pete we talked about this the other night.”
“Not in your mouth. That’s not what we were talking about.”
“C’mon Pete, we’ve talked about it before. Remember you said he would taste like steroids?”
“That was dirty talk. I didn’t—”
“We’re still on? For the other thing?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I thought you liked this.”
“I do. I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore. You’re making me crazy.”
She squeezed him, put her mouth over his and kissed him, holding his lips with hers. She pulled back, said, “I like making you crazy.”
He looked at her, trying not to show her the sadness and hurt that he felt. His stunning little lady, naked, her arms around him.
The thing was that watching her do that, while it made him want to scream, cry, slap the cock out of her mouth—it aroused him in a way he could never describe, never put into words. His belly ached. His loins really, if he were a romance writer. He couldn’t explain it. He loved Jess. He hated to see her like this. So dirty and sexual, and more of a woman than she was when she was with him. He could never arouse her like that. He could never put a thrill up between her legs like Tyler did. Why did seeing her like this—when he hated it—make him so hard? He was aching for her right now. He wished he was Tyler. Wished that he could do that to his wife, turn her into the horny little teenager she’d become. He loved seeing her like this, just wished he had the equipment, the appeal, to be the one to do it. Ultimately, he guessed, he wanted it done. Wanted her pleased and it didn’t matter who did it or how it got done.
Pete left her in the bedroom and headed for the stairs. Left his wife naked with her lover stretched out in their own bed. He had to go and pick up the boys. Patty was expecting him.
Shaking his head as he went down, cursing his life that it had to come to this, he smelled bleach in the hall. Thought Sargent had been peeing in the house again, Jess cleaning it up. That’s when he’d realized what she’d done. It was his own mouth. Tyler’s semen from his wife’s lips when she’d kissed him.
“Ah, shit,” he spit out the front door, scrubbed at his mouth and tongue with the sleeve of his suit jacket.
Had she done that on purpose? Put her semen-coated lips over his?
Part V
Laid Bare
17
Little Baby
Friday, November 4th
“What’s this bowl?” Petey said.
“Yeah, what’s this bowl?” Andy imitating his brother.
“What do you mean?” Jess said, knowing what they meant.
“Where’s our favourite bowls?”
It was
pasta night tonight. Spaghetti for the boys, fettucine for Tyler and Jess and Pete.
Jess looked over from the stove, saw Petey and Andy looking at the new bowls she’d bought. They weren’t happy. Practically the same bowls, maybe a little smaller and a different colour.
“I threw them out, boys, I bought you better ones.”
“Threw them out? Why?”
“It was just time for new bowls, okay?” she said, dropping fettucine into the new bowls for the rest of them. She’d put the old bowl back after she’d shaved Tyler, cleaned it with bleach. Then standing at recess today she’d had a virtual panic attack. She could let them sit in bleach for a year it couldn’t erase the image of Tyler’s big slippery cock and his heavy balls practically filling the bowl up. It was one bowl out of six. Russian Roulette. Who was going to be eating from the cock bowl?
So she stopped at the Save-Mart on the way home, frantic, bought the best ones she could. She’d taken the old ones from the cupboard and put them in the garbage. Then she’d tied it up, and dropped it on the garage floor a few times, made sure they were cracked and broken in there.
“I like these bowls better, all right?” she said, and she brought dinner over for Tyler and Pete. Both of them oblivious to this conversation, to the implication. Tyler might have figured it out but he wasn’t paying attention.
The boys dropped it and she was thankful. She had too much on her mind. She couldn’t even eat. She’d nibbled while she cooked and that was going to be enough. She watched the four men in her life gulp their food down, resting her elbows on the counter.
“You’re not eating, Mom?” Petey asked her. He was so attentive. So in tune with how other people felt. He was the greatest kid.
“No, Petey, I think I ate too much already while I was cooking.” She wouldn’t tell him about the butterflies in her stomach. How his mommy was going to pull the craziest stunt of her life tonight. She wasn’t going to mention that her belly was so tight in anticipation that food could not pass. It would fall right back out of her mouth.
“You looking forward to staying at your Auntie Patty’s tonight?”
“Mmm,” Petey hummed, brow furrowed. He looked nervous.
She sensed that there had been some sort of falling out between Petey and Jacob. Little boy stuff. They would work it out.
“Do I have to go, Mom?”
“Yes, Petey. You always have such a good time.”
“Why can’t I stay here? Where are you going?”
Jess turned to the table, bit the inside of her lower lip. She could see the beaten slope of her husband’s shoulders as he slumped over the table eating his dinner, his back to her. He wasn’t helping. Tyler had checked out. Either really disinterested in the whole thing or worried that this family stuff could kill the mood, stifle an erection.
He was as hard to figure sometimes as her husband. What was he doing here? Why was he still here? He was young and handsome. Incredibly fit. Obscenely hung. Shouldn’t he be out all the time, meeting people his own age? He never talked about being fired. Not seriously. Only to defend himself, say they were in the wrong. Was he really hurting from this? She had started to suspect that he was. That he was getting some sort of spiritual nourishment living with her family.
“Petey, we just have some grown up things to do tonight. Obligations. We won’t be here for you, kiddo. It’s almost near bedtime anyway. You’ll get there and before you know it you’ll be asleep, okay? Then I’ll pick you up first thing in the morning.”
He didn’t answer. He kept eating. A little more slowly, pensively. He nodded.
Andy watched his brother. Whatever he would do Andy would do. Ultimately it didn’t matter what they wanted. They couldn’t be here. She needed one night for herself. Needed things to not be difficult. Everyone play their parts.
This had been a tough week. They were getting close to the time that Tyler should be leaving and she hadn’t had a real chance to be with him. She brought him in because it was the right thing to do but she wanted more. She had an ulterior motive. It wasn’t hidden, Tyler knew it and Pete definitely knew it. It hadn’t happened though. And being so close, so familiar with Tyler, had put a real fire between her legs. To sit on the couch with him, see him in the morning in his tight T-shirt, watching him work out, running into him in their narrow halls, wishing she would get a chance to be with him... But it never happened. Not until yesterday. Shaving him had been incredibly erotic. More exciting than she’d anticipated. And the blowjob? Well, that was almost entirely for Pete. She enjoyed every minute of it but tonight was what she really wanted. Ached for. She wanted to be pounded. To feel him hurt her between her legs, punish her girl parts. Feel his hot, hard cock naked inside her. Feel his muscle under her fingers, taste his lips—feel his seed.
“Come on, boys. Let’s get your things together, grab your gear.”
“All right, Mom,” Petey said. He was going to go even if he didn’t want to. He hung his head while she walked him and Andy down the hall.
She couldn’t believe her luck when Patty took her aside at the Halloween Party. She wanted to know if Jess could take Jacob and Tammy for an overnight on the weekend of the twelfth. Of course, Patty she told her, then without the slightest hesitation, asked, Would you take mine on the Fourth? Patty said, This Friday? Yeah, sure, why? Jess gave her a pained expression, said, Don’t ask—it’s just a lot, you know... She shook her head, acted like it was too hard to explain. Patty said, Yeah, I can’t imagine.
Pete couldn’t shake the worried look his sister had given him when he’d dropped the boys off. The guilt he felt about all of this was enormous. It was just a sleepover to the boys but it was bigger than that for Pete. He needed them out of the house so he could watch his wife with her lover. It was a terrible thing. Could Patty read it on his face? Suspect that something strange was up? What would she think? More likely she would assume there was trouble between Pete and Jess. That they needed some house-time to have a real shouting match. Didn’t want the kids to hear that. After all, Pete’s wife had invited another man into their home—it would seem natural that her husband would find it too much. Were there holes in his game? Was it possible that his sister could figure out what was really happening? Had Pete let something slip somewhere along the way, had Jess ever let something slip? What would his sister think of him? How mad would she be at him? He would be mortified.
Pete got out of his Buick, looked up at the eighteen-hundred square-foot two-storey he and Jess had been living in since they were married. Could see his bedroom was dark but the light in the master bathroom was on. Jess was getting ready.
The light was on in the garage, two pill-shaped windows in the grey painted roll-up bright white in the dark. When he walked up the path to the door he could see into the garage through the narrow windows in the brick wall. Tyler was in there, working up a sweat. Pete watched him, one of those cannonballs with the handles in each hand, curling them, alternating right, then left. He shone with sweat, his arms were pumped, glistening, bulging—his veins stood out, crisscrossing under the dark lines of his tattoos.
He didn’t know if he could ever get rid of the image of his sweet Jess sucking that big cock of his until it came inside her mouth. She just seemed to enjoy it so much. He knew she got off on teasing him, he could tell that there was a piece of her that was thrilled knowing that Pete wanted her to do it, wanted to watch her perform, but that mostly it wounded him deeply. She performed it perfectly too. Surgical precision, slicing her blade right through the tough meat of his leathery heart. She had prepared Tyler, shaved him. Slice. She teased Tyler, kept his orgasm from him, playful, devious. Slice. She had a surprise ending, she let him defile her mouth. Slice. Another surprise, she liked his taste. Slice. She turned Tyler into a high school bully and herself into the pretty cheerleader. Slice. She kissed Pete on his lips, leaving the traces of her lover’s seed on him. Slice, slice, slice. She’d dissected him.
When he had made this arrangement with he
r, confessed to the woman he loved—the mother of his children—his deepest, darkest desires he had no way to expect she would be so good at tuning into his hurt, his pain. She had twisted his knob, found the frequency, and the signal was loud and clear. She got it. She either loved him so much she wanted this for him, or he was finding out that part of Jess really did hate him.
He poured himself a whisky once he was in the house, shoes off, Sargent put out in the yard. He took a sip and looked around the dark kitchen. He smiled. He couldn’t feel the dread. It wasn’t there right now. It could, of course, jump out of the shadows at any moment but right now when he concentrated he realized all he could feel was excitement. Anticipation. He felt like tonight Jess had brought him back into the fold. They were a couple again. This was for them both. Tonight he was going to watch the woman he loved receive pleasure. He couldn’t wait to hear her make those noises again. That kid in the garage with the big biceps was going to fuck his wife, make her scream, make her come. He was happy for her.
He went upstairs to the bedroom, heard the hiss of the shower. He leaned in the doorway of the bathroom, pushed the door open wider with his middle finger. He could see the flesh-coloured shape of his wife behind the frosted vinyl curtain. Could see her head must have been turned up, facing the shower head, could see the movement of her arms as she scrubbed herself, one leg slightly bent. He felt aroused watching her even though he couldn’t make out a single detail. But he knew all those details, didn’t need to see them. He knew what she felt like under his hands, knew what she smelled like, how she liked his tongue between her legs. She hadn’t been with him now for almost two weeks. Part of her game. He knew it. The message: Why fuck you when I have a big dick stud? Don’t waste my time. The torture was exquisite. He didn’t deserve her. Tyler did. Or she deserved Tyler, more accurately.
Pete sat in the dark bedroom in a chair he’d placed where he would get the best view of the action. He sat with his whisky, sipping and staring at their bed, comforted by the whine of Jess’ hair dryer. He’d laid out lingerie for her, the pieces organized on the bed for her when she was ready. Black lace and stockings, a thong panty, brought home from the Save-Mart.