by KT Morrison
“Jess, can we stop the humiliation?”
“You don’t want that anymore?”
He put his gaze down, thought about it. “I like it. But I don’t want it.”
“Okay. I can stop. I should stop. You okay?”
“You know he taunts me?”
“Tyler?”
“Yeah, he threatens me. Says he’s going to take you from me.”
“Oh, Petey,” she said, her face went sad, she bit a lip and put her arm around him again. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Oh, no, Jess. Don’t do that. Don’t.” He shook his head. “I’ll deal with it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Jess, do you love me?” He kept his face as rock-solid as he could.
She thought a moment, looked at him speculatively. “I do, Pete,” she said, looking into his eyes. “I love you very much.”
34
Hiccups
Sunday, January 1st
“This is what it’s come to,” Pete said to the empty room. Standing in the master bedroom looking out the lone window onto the driveway, he’d come in here at, what, 2:30 A.M. now, to see if it was them coming home.
It was.
There they were, the two of them practically spilling out of the taxi onto the snowy drive. They were laughing. His heart sang to see her with that big drunken smile on her face but he was broken seeing her in the arms of that man. He looked good, dressed well in a charcoal overcoat and his hair combed up nicely on his well shaped head. Jess stumbled on the slippery walk in her high heels, her strong legs flexing under her wool car coat. They looked like an amazing fun couple. Someone you would want to get to know and then later get jealous of.
Tyler held her steady while she had her small clutch open, rooting for some cash. She gave him some bills, watched and waited for him while he went to the open passenger window of the cab and paid the driver.
She didn’t seem to even care who might see her with Tyler anymore.
The two of them had gone out together in the evening for dinner and to celebrate the New Year. Out to the Cantina on River Street in the city. Jess hadn’t invited him explicitly but Pete let them get ready, waited for an offer, an inquiry into what he might be doing tonight. Then it was obvious he was staying home with the kids. That was fine with him. If he said he was going to go with them it would have been accepted. Jess probably would have called the sitter and he could have tagged along. He just didn’t feel like he wanted to spend the last night of the year ‘tagging’ along with his wife and her boyfriend. He let her have her night.
He and the boys had a great time and he kept the sadness at bay until they’d gone to bed. Then he hit the bottle for an hour and watched home movies.
He left the bedroom and went to stand in the hall, heard them come in the front door. He wanted to duck into his bedroom but he had a concern that they were going to be noisy, wake up the boys. He could hear them down there, already talking too loud, and he felt like shushing them. Then there was a thump, something fell, opened, and contents spilled across the linoleum. He pictured Jess on her knees and her purse scattered across the hallway. Now he wanted to stay in the hall to make sure she made it to bed without getting hurt.
Sargent was on them. Pete could hear his nails on the floor, an excited grumble coming from him. Whatever had happened it got her laughing. Laughing hard enough where he could tell she couldn’t breathe. Laughed herself until she was empty and then forgot how to inhale. It made him happy. Made a smile come across his own lips hearing her like that.
“Up we get,” Tyler grunted and he must have helped her up.
They came in to view now, Jess stumbling to the bottom of the staircase, Tyler doing all right behind her, hands out to catch her if she fell.
She looked up the stairs, seeing where she was going and caught Pete’s eyes. She smiled, said, Hey Pete, and then she shushed him even though he hadn’t said a thing. Pete moved to the top of the stairs to help her when she got there.
“Come on, Jess,” he whispered, “let’s get you to bed.”
“Yeah,” she gasped, and she worked her way up the stairs carefully in her high heels. He took her hand as she got to the landing, Tyler had his hands on her waist.
“Had a good time?” he said, stating the obvious.
“We went dancing,” she whispered to him, a hoarse whisper-yell.
“Okay, Jess,” he said. “You smell like whiskey.”
“And tequila,” Tyler joked behind her. It made Jess laugh out loud and then she covered her mouth with both hands.
“I got her, Pete,” Tyler said, guiding his wife past him, headed to the master bedroom.
“You okay, Jess?” Pete said as they passed.
She said, “Petey, Petey, come in here, come here. It’s New Year’s.”
“It’s late, Jess.”
“No,” she argued, “it’s New Year’s. I don’t want to go to bed.”
“She likes to party,” Tyler said to Jess as he helped her to sit on the bed.
“I do,” she said slyly.
Seeing her sit there, liquored up and happy, beaming really, all made-up for a night out, hair a mess from drinking and dancing; it all melted his heart. He was happy for her. Happy to see her so happy.
“You look happy, Jess.”
“We had fun,” she said. She hiccuped.
Her hands fumbled with the over-sized buttons on her coat and she took it off, pulled her arms out and let it fall back on the bed. The shoulders of her dress were covered in glitter and confetti.
“Look at you,” Tyler laughed and he brushed her shoulders for her, brushed the glitter on to the bed.
“I am the party,” Jess laughed.
“You are,” Tyler agreed.
Pete backed towards the door, enjoyed the moment for her. Knew probably what would happen next and that she would enjoy that too.
“Petey, no, come and talk,” she said and she patted the bed next to her. Pete looked to Tyler. He was taking his coat off. Pete could see lipstick marks all over his neck in his Jess’s shade. Tyler turned away and hung his coat up in the closet, started unbuttoning his shirt.
Jess had just about the most fun in one night she could remember. They’d gone out to the restaurant for a late dinner, then there was dancing. They had a whisky tasting, more dancing, some tequila, then a lot more dancing. Everyone was in the best mood. Happy, happy faces all around. Not a care in the world. She danced for, like, maybe two hours. Then they did the countdown, confetti collapsed from the roof all over them, coming down so hard it pelted her like a sandstorm. They laughed and Tyler covered her, protected her. They kissed. Then more dancing, more drinking, but it was a little hazy. Flashes of the cab ride. In the hall. Sargent licking her face. Was she on the floor?
She was feeling better now. A little better at least. But poor little Pete looked so sad. She hiccuped.
“I’ve got the hiccups,” she said, turned her face up to him.
“You want a glass of water?”
She nodded.
Pete went to the bathroom, ran the faucet. She watched Tyler undress and she felt her face turn evil; a devilish, mischievous smile she couldn’t stop pulled the corners of her mouth up, she narrowed her eyes. He was pulling those muscular legs out of his pants and she liked what she saw. His big round rump in those tight white briefs, those muscles stretching out his T-shirt. The black dragons all down those shining muscular arms. Turn around, Tyler.
“Here you go,” Pete said.
“Thanks, Pete.” He put his hands up on either side of her head and put pressure over her ears. She drank while he held her. He clasped them tight, let her drink and tip it back until the glass was empty. She put her head down and he let her go.
“Better?” he asked her.
“Yeah,” she said.
Tyler sat next to her on the bed, his weight pushing the mattress down and her body came to rest against him. His arm came around her waist and she closed her eyes.
She hiccuped again, laughed.
Tyler laughed too and it felt good to shake up against his body. Then he was gone, bringing his knees up and crab-walking backwards up the bed.
“Here, Pete,” she said and she handed him back the empty glass.
“Do you want to try it again?”
Her eyes closed and she held up two index fingers for him, indicating him to wait. She didn’t hiccup. She said, “No, no. That one was just an an-anomaly.” She laughed as she hiccuped again. “Okay, try again.”
Pete went off to the bathroom and she felt her way around the bed, grabbing Tyler’s shin, then climbing up his body on all fours. All the lights were on in the room, bathing it all in bright, but she felt better with her eyes closed. She climbed up his thighs, felt how hard they were, gave his big sagging package a honk as she passed, got lower until her chest was against his stomach and then she slithered up him until she came to rest very nicely in the crook of his big arm.
“I had a wonderful time tonight,” she said.
“Me too.” He turned to her so they were face to face, laying on their sides. She opened her eyes a little and he kissed her softly.
He should leave them to it. Let them do their thing.
Something about the way Jess had called him in here, said she didn’t want to sleep, it’s New Year’s, Pete—had him oddly aroused. Not primed right up and horny but a vague sort of tension under his bowels, sizzling along his undercarriage and throbbing in his prostate. He stood and watched.
A heartbreaking scene for sure. His lovely wife laying in bed with another man. This woman who he had stood with on an altar—his family, her family watching—expressed his love for her and heard her love expressed, they were pronounced man and wife; everyone threw confetti that Spring day, walking out of the church and into the limo. Now she was kissing a handsome boy ten years younger than her, doing it in their bed. He was beautiful, muscular, looking very sexy in his tight T-shirt and briefs. Jess was rubbing herself on him, her pretty New Year’s dress hiked up her thighs as her legs rubbed him, going up and down his hard thighs. She would be wet under there. Those long dancer legs rubbing like that was a symptom of her arousal. He knew that, knew her for nine years now, knew when those legs started rubbing like a cricket that a quick swipe between them would show you her heat, her wet. Her arms were going over his muscles, her pretty hands squeezing and scratching. Their heads twisted on one another, her silky hair tangling up in one of his big hands. There it was: he was stiffening. Quickly and urgently, pushing out the front of his pyjamas.
Jess’s hand went down between Tyler’s legs and she gripped his big soft cotton bulge. He watched that a while, her small grip coddling that big thing, the white shape underneath changing, swelling, becoming misshapen. Then she slipped it under his waistband, pulled that big tool out, squeezed it and stroked it, the whole time she bit and sucked and pulled at his lips and he did it back.
Tyler’s hand pulled at her zipper, tried to open the back of her black dress. He couldn’t get it started. His other hand was trapped under him, maybe under her. Each pull on the zipper only pulled the far side of the fabric with it and it just wouldn’t unclench. Pete put down the glass of water, got on the bed, walked on his knees and he held the fabric tight, pushed Tyler’s hand away and undid his wife’s zipper. Tyler slipped his hand underneath the fabric, felt her warm smooth back and it made Pete smile for some reason. He knew that feeling. Knew how she would feel under your fingers. Lucky guy.
Pete lay on the bed behind her and watched, put his head on the pillow, like he used to do when he slept in here, and he watched the two of them together. Tyler’s hand pulled the strap of her dress off her shoulder and Jess’s arm came up, her elbow struggled underneath it and Tyler pulled it away hard, Pete watched her tight skin creased by the fabric. Her elbow slipped out and now he pulled it down. Pete reached out with both hands and undid her bra for her. Tyler pulled that away too and now she had one breast bared and Tyler’s hand was going over it, coddling and exploring. Their breaths grew more lusty.
Jess pushed his briefs down his thigh and Pete could see her stroking that cock over her own hip, her little hand struggling with his girth. Tyler sat up, broke away from her. His lips were swollen and wet from their kissing. He looked down at Jess, romantic, passionate intent in his eyes. Jess looked back, her eyes wet and trembling. It was so bright in here.
Tyler’s shirt came off, pulled up over his head and thrown aside and Jess’s hand was on him, feeling his hardness. His cock wagged over his hip, held up by his briefs. He leaned over her and grabbed her dress. The whole skirt part had bunched up around her waist from her humping herself against him and he was able to pull it right off her, her thin arms going up over her head and her hair clinging to it briefly before it was thrown aside like his shirt. Her thumbs hooked into her black lacy panties and she hiked them down. Her usually graceful legs kicked themselves clumsily out of them. Tyler pushed his briefs down a bit farther then collapsed next to her; they resumed their noisy kissing. Jess threw her leg over his hip and Tyler shifted, grabbed his cock. Pete looked down to see. He stroked it between her legs, he could hear how wet his wife was. Then he slowly slid it inside her and she gasped, her head turned to the side and Pete watched her sexy profile, the woman he loved, as another man lovingly put his cock inside her body.
He watched them like that, both of them on their sides, making love for the longest time. Jess made soft sweet noises, little squeaks and gasp and moans. Tyler very slowly slid himself in and out of her, she held his cheeks in her hands and kissed him. They went on and on, it was very caring. Being so close to her, to feel her love, her passion; it was strangely beautiful. He watched her pretty round rump jiggle and flex as she made love back to him. He wanted to reach out and put his palm over one of those cheeks and feel her again. Would it make her happy? She was loved. She really was. Loved completely by two men.
She’d called him in here. Told him it was New Year’s. She didn’t want to sleep. She was the party, she said. She was the party.
He sat up and took his T-shirt off, lay back and got his pyjama pants down and off. He lay there and his heart was pounding. He watched them for another minute. Watched that sexy rump work; wriggle and hump, her cheeks flex and release.
He was harder than ever. He was small and slippery. He had to.
Jess felt Pete’s palm run along her side and over her hip. She didn’t know what to make of it. Her first urge was that it felt pleasant and familiar, then she felt like he was disturbing her. Disturbing them. But she couldn’t stop him. He was her husband. And, most strangely, his touch put the weirdest feeling inside her. A palpable carnal lump that she felt deep in her belly. Dirty. Like dirtier than she could ever be. Two men in her bed. Two men who wanted her.
Her husband was dying inside as a man that was so superior to him took his woman from him. She felt his pain. Could feel it in his clammy touch. She felt his breath on her back, felt it hot and ragged. What must it do to him to see her like this? To see her fulfilled? This was what she could do with her life. This was her man here in her bed with her. Did he see it now? She saw it now.
“Oh,” she gasped, high and quivering, when Pete’s hand scooped around her front and she felt it on her belly, between her and Tyler; dangerously close to where she and her lover were connected. What would it feel like for him to touch her there? Touch her where she was being penetrated. While she was being penetrated. Her breaths heaved thinking about it. Thinking what Pete would feel. Feel her boyfriend’s thick cock. How hard he was right now. He could grip it see what a real man felt like. Hard and throbbing, substantial, dominant. She was being taken right now. As much as she started this and wanted it, desperately felt the love between them, ultimately she was being taken. Owned. Pulled away from another weaker male. One who couldn’t hold on to her because he wasn’t strong enough. Capable enough. He didn’t have what it took and now another bigger, more primal male was claiming her as his own
. She loved it. She gasped again. “Ah, my two men,” she whispered.
Pete gripped her thigh and she let him, pushed her rump out to him. Let him feel. Let him slither his soft hand behind her, feel how she was penetrated, feel her man split her until it hurt so good. Feel her lover’s testes, swelling with a seed that he would put inside her. Fill her up with his nectar, plant his offspring deep inside her. Squeeze them Pete, touch them. He has me. Those balls are for me. His hand squeezed her cheeks, spread them. It felt amazing. It pulled her creases apart, and Tyler’s plunging felt instantly more pronounced, fresh and wet.
“Oh, God,” she whispered into Tyler's mouth.
“Oh, Jess,” Tyler whispered back, “you are so tight, so amazing, baby.”
A prodding. Gentle at first. Wet and small. She couldn’t believe it. “Oh, Petey, are you crazy?” she asked him. He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. She felt the answer in his trembling behind her. He was going to do it. She wasn’t going to stop him.
“Oh, Petey...”
He slid his little tip into her anus while Tyler had her claimed from the front.
“Oh,” she gasped, she clenched her eyes shut, but rolled them right up, her head came back and her mouth hung open. Tyler’s mouth grabbed at her tongue and she gave it to him, let him suck on her.
Tyler’s thrusting slowed, let Petey find his little way back there. She let her husband’s gentle tool snake it way up inside her, Tyler slowly resumed, and she didn’t know if she could handle it. Not the feeling, but the pleasure. She felt her brain take off on a parasail over a crystal blue Caribbean water, high, high above, a slight tropical breeze through her soul.
“Oh, my two men,” she whispered again.
He couldn’t believe his dirty little Jess let him do it. The mother of his children. The woman he’d loved for so long, the gentle caring angel who raised two boys, breast fed them, worked tirelessly for the little kids in her care at the school, bake sales, halloween parties, funerals—he’d held her hand and cried with her during sad movies—she had two men inside her at the same time writhing on them in her own bed.