by Jaime Thorne
But I had to because not doing it would be so much worse for her.
So I put on airs, letting my head cock to one side and jutting my chin out a bit. I squared off in the doorway but put a bored look on my face, as if all of this was beneath me.
“Bruce,” Jeremy spoke, his voice eager, “So glad you could make it please come in.”
I nodded and didn't say a word, stepping through the threshold and letting him close the door behind me.
My suit weighed heavy on me, feeling like a suit of mail dragging me down. Each step I took in was one more step in a direction I wasn't sure I wanted to go. But I didn't see any other way out of this.
“Nice place,” I said, searching for something to say and settling on the mundane.
“Thank you,” Jeremy said distractedly, “Avril is right in here.”
He scurried along ahead of me, leading me off the main hallway into what must have been one of their sitting rooms. There were a number of comfortable looking couches and a bar along one wall, and in the corner surveying the whole room was Avril.
She was perched on the edge of a chair, affecting calm but there was a nervous energy beneath the surface of her. It wasn't something I would have been able to detect had I not spent the amount of time with her that I did. It wasn't something I would have picked up on at all.
But I could see it in the way she was fidgeting, looking anywhere but at me. The way her smile would flick into place when her husband glanced over to her, automatic but conscious at the same time.
“Scotch?” Jeremy asked, handing me a glass.
I nodded at him and took a long sip from my drink.
And then the three of us stood there in the midst of the room, each of us with a very different idea of what was happening here.
For my part, I could feel it barreling down on me. Like I had my foot caught in the struts of a railway track and the train was chugging closer and closer I could feel it looming over me.
The certainty of doom.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AVRIL
I watched the two of them through heavy eyes, two men standing there playing pretend at being in control. It was humiliating for both of them, mainly because I don't think either of them knew what was really happening here.
I'd gotten to know Bruce over the last little while, had started to be able to get a read on him and I'd started to realize that he was a lot more complex than he appeared on the surface. At the very least there was an awful lot below there that needed to be explored.
Bruce came across as brash and cocky, in a lot of ways he reminded me of Jacob in how all of his flaws and faults lay so close to the surface of him that it would repel most people from seeking out more information from him if they were initially rebuffed. That didn't do a disservice to Jacob, whose personality was mainly defined by his appetites, but with Bruce I would have lost out on a substantial experience if I didn't allow myself to explore him.
Not just physically, though the physical exploration was undoubtedly fun, but it was his emotional and intellectual depth that grabbed me and held me. It was that which kept me invested long after the afterglow of sexual satisfaction had passed.
What had started as a pure necessity for Jeremy's sake had turned into intellectual curiosity and then over to sexual need. It rebounded between those two alternate dimensions, building in intensity until I wasn't sure which satisfied me more but I knew that I couldn't deny myself having him in my life anymore.
We'd been together over a dozen times probably since that first night in the bed that belonged to R.A. Since that time we had explored each other physically in his hotel and a few riskier places, and our time outside of the sheets had been caught up with far less clandestine meetings over dinner or drinks or books or art. It had evolved into the tentative first steps of a relationship, feeling an awful lot like a series of first dates even if we'd skipped over all the messy uncertainty and started off in the bedroom instead.
I knew it was wrong. Not just because I was cheating on Jeremy but because I was lying to Bruce as well. I knew that when I told him that this was all just fun for me that was a lie, that there was a deeper connection that had surfaced and that I needed to pursue. I needed Bruce there beside me, at least until I figured out whether this could be something and what this something could be.
Divorce wasn't an option.
Jeremy and I were going through a rough patch and that was certain. We weren't talking like we used to. We weren't fucking like we used to. He was distant and so was I and there were so many reasons for this, only one of which was the man who he'd invited into our bed.
I didn't see how inviting Bruce into our bed again would solve anything, but how was I going to deny Jeremy the opportunity to watch me fuck Bruce right in front of him when I'd fucked him behind his back so many times before?
This was Jeremy's fantasy. This was his desire. He was in charge. So as weird as it was to be in a room with my husband and my secret lover I was going to keep silent and let Jeremy take the lead.
“So I was hoping for something a little different this time around,” Jeremy spoke at last, “A little more intense than before.”
There was an excitement vibrating in the tone of his voice, making him practically tremble as he laid out his plan before the both of us.
“Watching you two together was amazing and I really appreciate that, but the fantasy is more complex than just watching the two of you together. I was hoping to see a bit more humiliation, the humiliation of me.”
He blushed hard with those last words, and I'll admit that I didn't really get it at first.
“You want us to humiliate you?”
“Yes,” he said quickly, as if he was in a rush to get it out there so he could put it behind him, “You know tell him how he's better than me in bed. Stronger and bigger and all the rest of it. How he satisfies you more than I can. Things that make me seem...”
“Inadequate?” I replied, finishing his thought when his voice faded away.
He blushed much harder at that, as if me saying just that was enough to strike his fancy. Jeremy couldn't respond in words, so he nodded instead and I took that as enough initiative to stand and move this onward.
“Right then,” I said, practically clapping my hands as I gathered them up, “So you want him to fuck me and you want me to talk about how good he is in bed compared to you. I can do that, can you Bruce? Can you fuck me?”
I smiled wryly at him, my words the closest I think I could come to our secret without giving everything away. I could see the shock register on his face and then he composed himself quickly before Jeremy noticed.
“Whatever you guys want,” he said, “I'm here for you.”
“Then it's settled,” I replied with finality, turning on both of them and walking out of the room and making my way upstairs without looking to see whether they were following.
That was a given. Of course they were following me, trailing along behind me like little puppies desperate for my attentions. I had them wrapped around my finger right then, the both of them tied up and tongue tied and more than willing to follow me no matter how far I went.
That made me feel fucking powerful. It made me feel sexy. It made me feel like a goddess with their lives in my hands. It made me feel like an object of desire and with each step I took I let that role and that need and that idea shape my movements.
My hips swayed to draw their eyes in. My heels clicked on the floor and I could practically hear them panting behind me. I ran my hand over the back of my neck and could see them gawping at the lines of my body as I rose above them and reached the top floor of our house.
Jeremy made a move towards our bedroom and that stopped me cold. I realized what his intentions were and it was like a shock to my system.
Turning back wasn't an option even if I wanted it, which I didn't. I couldn't back out now not because it would draw suspicion and not because they would be angry or upset with me or wouldn't listen or anyth
ing like that. I couldn't back out now because my body was thrumming with the thought of what happened next and I couldn't turn my back on that without that ache eating me up and consuming me whole.
But I could draw my lines, and even if those lines were mostly a lie I could still draw them and refuse to cross.
“Not there,” I said to them, “Not our bedroom. The guest bedroom instead.”
Jeremy looked at me and nodded, understanding my hidden meaning. That room was our room, our bed that we shared. It belonged to both of us and to our marriage and to fuck someone else in it, even if Jeremy consented to that, meant a sort of death for our bond. It meant that we were giving up a part of ourselves.
I wasn't ready to do that. I was still clinging vainly onto the hope that some sense of normalcy would return to our lives even as I took actions and steps to ensure that the very opposite occurred.
But Jeremy didn't know a bit of that.
Still he assented, turning away from that room and over to the guest bedroom instead. He threw open the doors and led the way inside, with Bruce and me following close behind.
I felt nervous as I crossed the threshold, nervous as I looked at Bruce and then as my eyes fell to Jeremy behind him. Those nerves didn't make a damn bit of sense to me but they just compounded and built as I watched Jeremy take his seat in a chair by the door, his eyes staring into both of us almost unblinkingly as he waited for his night's entertainment to begin.
It didn't make any sense to me. I'd done all of this before. I'd fucked Bruce in front of Jeremy. I'd fucked Bruce a number of times after that. This should be almost routine by now, should be easy to jump into.
But instead, it was like learning how to swim again. Like I knew the movements in an esoteric and detached sort of way but I was trying to relearn having read them in a book. Like it was just the memory of a memory of a memory guiding my way, a hazy bit of wisp of knowledge about the steps of a dance that I hadn't danced in years.
But all of that was wrong of course. I had danced this before and done so recently. I knew all the moves and I was so very familiar with my partner.
But the audience was throwing me off.
I found myself unable to look away from Jeremy. Unable to stop glancing at him even if I tried not to. I found myself staring at the chair or the wall behind him but always looking his way with the sort of desperation that I couldn't pinpoint until it dawned on me with startling clarity.
I wanted him to ask us to stop.
I wanted Jeremy to throw the towel in here, to tell me that he'd changed my mind and tell me that he couldn't stand this. I wanted him to show that he wanted me still, that he needed to be with me and only with me. That he wanted to return to what we had because he loved me.
But Jeremy couldn't say that. That wasn't his truth and that wasn't his desire. He wanted me to be with Bruce for his own selfish ends and that hurt me a little.
There was a part of me that recognized this and knew that I needed to stop this. That I needed to put an end to this and confess the truth to him then and there.
Because if I didn't tell him then what I had done then I never would. If I didn't tell Jeremy that I had cheated then this would be the last line. Then I never could.
I opened my mouth to speak, and Jeremy beat me to the punchline.
“Kiss her,” he said, a greedy hunger in his voice. My eyes fell on his and I saw something animalistic there. I saw him look at me as if I was an object. Saw him stare at me and I understood and I hated him then and there.
And how dare he make that demand.
He had been there the first time. He knew that I hadn't been able to bring myself to kiss Bruce before and he didn't know anything but that. He knew that was a line that I wasn't willing to cross, and here he was demanding it to satisfy his own selfish appetites.
Fuck him.
It was me that reached for Bruce, that wrapped my hand around the back of his head and drew him into me. It was me that kissed him, stunning him and my husband with a passionate embrace as I breathily moaned into him and slipped my tongue into his mouth.
We kissed and my hands ran up and down his body, kneading him and turning him so that Jeremy had just the best view of the two of us kissing. So that Jeremy could witness as I ran my hands down and latched them into his belt. So that Jeremy could see my every move as I fell to my knees and unbuckled his pants and slipped them down to his ankles.
No matter how many times I saw it Bruce's cock never failed to impress. Throbbingly hard and achingly bulging in front of me I reached out for it, taking it in my hand and stroking it to life before my eyes. I stroked him as I stared up at him, witnessing him looking down at me with shocked and astonished hunger in his eyes.
I wasn't passive when I was with Bruce. I was hungry and voracious and enthusiastic. He'd seen me beg him for more and he'd seen me squeal with passion and glee but never once had he seen this side of me.
Vindictive. Angry. Spiteful.
This was a fuck that was happening in front of my husband. My husband who didn't have the goddamn balls to see what was happening in front of him. My husband who selfishly pursued his own dreams and desires without a thought or a question of what it was doing to me.
I took Bruce in my mouth, bringing everything I had to him and laying it at his feet. I bobbed my head up and down on his length, both hands on the rest of him stroking his shaft and fondling his balls while I moaned and drooled and gave him what every man secretly wants.
A fawning whore. Isn't that what they think we women should be? Isn't that their secret desire? To have us so overcome by their masculine power that we become senseless in the light of their overwhelming masculinity. That we would do anything to take them and have them and please them if it means that we can please ourselves.
I took his cock in, straining to let him slip fully into my mouth. I felt him pressing at the back of my throat, threatening to choke the very life out of me and my whole body shook and burned until I backed off to gasp and stroke his cock while I took in great gulps of air.
“You're so fucking big,” I said through gasping breaths, “So much bigger than my husband.”
I returned to his cock, stroking it and kissing all over the head and the top of his shaft while I moaned and continued my dirty talk.
“I wish I could have this cock every night,” I told him, “I wish that you could give me this cock every single goddamn night and that I never had to spend another night with a man as inadequate as my husband.”
I took his head in my mouth, bobbing on it a half dozen times before returning to stroking him and looking up at him as he stared down at me in amazement.
“You could satisfy me, couldn't you? You could make me cum every single night. You'd never cum early and cum inside of me accidentally. You'd never be too small for me to even feel you filling me up. You'd never disappoint me, would you Bruce?”
He shook his head back and forth, and I could feel his cock throbbing in my hands.
“And you'd never turn me over to another man,” I continued, turning and looking at Jeremy while I spoke this time, “You'd never let me get fucked by someone else. If I was getting fucked by you then you'd keep me all to yourself. You'd never be weak enough to lose me to another man.”
Jeremy stared at me with open astonishment, and I think for a moment I could almost see a bit of questioning regret cross his face. As if maybe he was thinking that all of this wasn't a good idea.
That evaporated in an instant, and I watched him settle back in his chair and start tugging at his pants with a desperate and urgent need.
That just spurred on the fire in me.
“Make me yours Bruce,” I begged of him, “Fuck me and make me yours.”
Bruce tugged me to my feet, pulling me up into his arms and kissing me again. Our lips connected and I melted into his arms, pressing my tongue against his with an insistent need. I felt his forehead press against mine, felt a momentary connection between us that brought me back t
o times we'd spent together just the two of us.
All those times alone, and the familiar patterns and moves that we'd learned with each other.
We fell into them almost automatically, his hands on my clothing peeling it from my skin. Unwrapping me like a present and baring me to his touch and taste as we moved and circled around each other in the center of the room.
And I did the same to him, taking my time to caress his body and kiss his skin as it was exposed. Taking my time to take a passionate look at my lover, to drink him in with each of my senses until we were both shaken out of it by the insistent little troll in the corner.
He cleared his throat and it brought us back into the world. I looked over at him sitting there with his fucking cock in his hand and a flash of anger ran through me.
I needed to lash out. I needed to work this out. I needed to do something and I settled on doing the man right in front of me.
“FINE,” I practically shouted at Jeremy, “You want me to fuck him then fine I'll fuck him.”
And with that I took control.
I spun Bruce around and practically threw him onto the bed. Not giving him even a moments rest I pounced onto him, jumping astride him and writhing above him.
It was a gift to Bruce and a fuck you to Jeremy. I knew that cowgirl was Bruce's favorite position, that he loved to watch me rise and fall above him and loved to see my body moving and bucking from below.
So when I took him in I sunk down onto him, taking him deep inside of me. I moaned out loud, moving my hands up into my hair and holding my head as I thrust my ass down onto Bruce and arched my back.
It felt good to have him in me again, to have Bruce stretching me and filling me completely. It felt so good to be filled by him, to have him pulsing inside of me with all of the familiar pleasure that came along with that.
“Fuck your cock is amazing,” I moaned lewdly, squeezing myself tight around him, “Fuck I could live forever like this.”