It was almost overwhelming for his senses, particularly his highly-tuned olfactory senses, his professional nose. And yet the sexual thrill was so powerful, Jens did not move from his spot behind the curtains--he held tightly to his own stiff cock and watched as Effie fucked her new lover.
'Oh please... oh please... oh please...' she kept saying, as though it wasn't her in control of this, holding the man down, fucking him increasingly roughly, her hips gyrating, her breasts jiggling, her hair swaying.
They weren't even using condoms, which old Jens would have completely freaked out about, though new Jens felt strangely serene, for some reason liking the awful reality of another man squeezing his bare cock inside Effie's sweet flower.
After a while, he watched as Effie rolled onto the bed and ceded control to her lover, Nico holding himself up between her legs to drive his hard cock back deep inside her, before thrusting into her again and again at his own speed. He watched them kissing, sliding their tongues in each other's mouths, he watched Nico withdraw his cock from Effie's sex and she took it back into her mouth, even though it was slick from her juices.
He watched the sweat drip from their bodies, their hair becoming damp and then soaked through. He watched as the air became saturated with the musky scent of their sex, and still it didn't sicken him--it made him feel oddly alive.
He watched his wife go on all fours for her lover, who entered her from behind as though they were animals.
He watched as his wife knelt in front of him and pumped his cock in her hands until he sprayed his thick cream all over her body. He watched as she grinned and giggled and rubbed the man's semen into her skin.
He watched as they lay beside each other, panting for breath, and Nico asked her, 'Everything okay?'
And she replied, 'Oh yes. More than 'okay'. That was incredible.'
He watched as they kissed and cuddled, as though they were the ones in this room who were married. And the jealousy flared up again, more so this time, as there wasn't the accompanying sexual thrill to dilute it. And his legs started throbbing from his standing up for so long--he felt close to collapse.
But then Effie was on her feet, and dragging Nico along with her into the bathroom, closing the door behind them as the shower started up, and Jens had a brief opportunity to escape.
17
Deep Connection
He was attempting to relax, sprawled out on a sun lounger by the pool, as though he'd been here all along. He had his Kindle on, and was attempting to reacquaint himself with a fairly derivative thriller that attempted to jump on the Gone Girl bandwagon of domestic strife, but with little success. His mind was on other things.
He'd changed into his swim shorts, and had the chilled dampness of the pool water on his skin, but his dip in the shallow end had been purely to cool himself down and rid himself of any bodily evidence of his sexual voyeurism, rather than for exercise or to really pass the time.
All he was really doing was waiting, whether it be for a text from Effie asking him if he'd be so good as to book into a hotel for the night, or as he hoped, instructions for him to return home once her lover had departed. He wasn't reading, and it wasn't as though he was getting any sun--even if this wasn't an indoor pool, even if the sun hadn't gone down a while ago, this was Denmark.
To his surprise, it wasn't a text message that ended his struggles to focus on his Kindle--it was the sound of Effie's voice.
'Well, there you are!'
She stepped out from the women's changing room onto the poolside, wearing her swimsuit, no less.
'Hey,' he said, smiling up at her, feeling the sexual arousal flooding his body once again to lay eyes on her, and in that provocative, high-cut swimsuit of hers.
'Everything okay?'
'Of course,' he grinned. 'Is he... gone?'
Jens felt so light-headed, and his heart was fluttering. This gorgeous creature had just had sex. She was fresh from fucking another man, right down in their own apartment. His stunning wife was so naughty, so sexy, so ripe, so unbelievably attractive to him, it almost made him want to jump on her, almost held his underlying fear of human contact in check.
'He has,' she smiled coyly, glancing down at her toes as though she'd suddenly noticed her nails needed polishing. Then she seemed to dispel her natural bashfulness, as though remembering this wasn't her father subtly attempting to police her latest date--this was her husband, who was sexually aroused by the thought of her dating. She said, 'I thought I'd have a quick rinse and a swim, and then maybe we could...'
Jens liked the idea of watching her swim, and that the glint in her dark eyes hinted at maybe some kind of mild sex play after she was cleaned up, maybe some kind of striptease on her part, maybe even a little minor touching... but right now, his own sexual arousal won out over his fear.
'Wait,' he said, pulling himself up to his feet.
She took a half-step back, unsure of what he was thinking.
'Don't go anywhere,' he said, and she did freeze where she was, compliant.
'I can just... go shower,' she suggested, 'if you'd prefer. We could just go downstairs...'
He shook his head, and stepped up to her. Oh God. He could smell her, he could smell the sex on her--it was mild, perhaps because it was swamped by the chlorine tang of the swimming pool, but it had an unbelievable effect on him, stiffening his cock, sharpening his senses, boosting his heart rate, stirring his blood. She'd brushed her hair back into a ponytail, and her body was no longer glistening with perspiration, but Effie really had come straight from bedding another man.
'Did you sleep with him?' he asked her quietly. 'Did you... fuck him?'
Her eyes quivered slightly as she looked deep into his, trying to extract his true feelings, trying to assess how he wanted her to answer--to confirm that he really did want her to have slept with Nico, to have fucked him.
Then she said, 'Yes. I did.'
She clasped her hands together in front of her navel, as though she was being told off by the school principal. But Jens smiled so broadly, the bulge in his swim shorts so prominent, she dropped her hands to her side, less fearful.
'Did you enjoy it? Did you... have fun?' he asked her.
'Very much,' she smiled, a little coy again, but looking so delicious as a result.
He leaned into her, breathing in deeply, savoring her scent, and said, uncertain, 'May I...'
She whispered, 'Of course... Whatever you want, sweetie...'
He heard a slight tremor in her voice--nerves, as though this was their first date and they were still in high school. He leaned in, almost touching her, and put his face close to her neck, below her ear. He could smell the sex on her, stronger, as though the hot air was rising from her body up to him. But there was also her smell, her personal sweetness, and the lingering remnants of the new fragrance she'd worn for him. Captivating, it was going to be called.
But he was nervous, too. Frightened, almost, even though he felt such powerful desire for her. He wanted her, but he really didn't know what to do with her. He'd never done anything before. He might look like a complete idiot.
'You want to touch me?' she asked him.
'I... think so,' he said, heart pounding like crazy.
She brought her arms up, gently placing her hands on his shoulders, cautiously checking for any signs that it might freak him out. It felt strangely reassuring to Jens.
'It's okay,' she said. 'You can try whatever you feel up to... and it will all be okay. If you aren't comfortable... just stop.'
'Okay,' he offered her another smile, and she returned it with much more energy. Kind, loving, reassuring.
'You can do whatever you want,' she said quietly, 'and no one will judge you. No one.'
He looked into her eyes. It was as though she could read his mind--she knew what his biggest fears were. He realized that she must have been the same with Nico, after so long without any kind of sexual experience. She understood his anxiety because she'd recently felt the same kind of self
-doubt--could she do it, would it make her look foolish, would her shortcomings offend her lover? He looked into her eyes and said, 'I love you.'
'I love you,' she said, barely more than a whisper. 'I always will, no matter what. Now tell me what you want.'
'I want... to touch you.'
'But you're afraid. You're still afraid.'
His eyes fell, a silent admission.
She inched closer to him, her gaze fixed on his face. She said quietly, 'You're embarrassed, aren't you? Because you've never really touched a woman before. You're afraid... you'll look foolish, because you don't know how to be, you don't know how to act...'
His eyes crept up, meeting hers. Another wordless confirmation that what she was saying was true.
'And because you're so afraid... you would prefer it if another man steps in and does it for you instead...'
'No,' he frowned, suddenly feeling that she had taken a wrong turn in her guesswork concerning his motivations. 'No, that's not quite--'
He didn't want her to think that his fear of humiliation regarding his inability to make love to her was the reason for his desire to see another man do it instead.
She smiled, teasing him. 'I'm sure it's not the whole reason why my infidelity turns you on,' she said, and somehow her saying that explicitly, my infidelity turns you on only went and turned him on more.
Her hands dropped, and touched his--gently, cautiously, and then when he didn't flinch, he didn't snatch his away, she held his hands more firmly.
'Don't be afraid,' she said, again almost whispering, her quietness making it all the more intimate--and all the more reassuring. As though she was telling him this was only between them, that the rest of the world didn't know, and wouldn't have to know. Only she would know, and she would not be judging him.
She lifted up his hands, her grip shifting to his wrists so that she could place his palms on her breasts, and then move to press them against her body. His eyes widened as he felt the heat of her body through her swimsuit, as his fingers stretched out and felt the divine shape of her breasts.
'You know, most men would feel humiliated about another man sleeping with their wife,' she said with a naughty smile, gently moving his hands with hers, showing him how to touch her breasts, showing him how to behave. 'You have no problem with me being unfaithful--it makes you happy. More than happy.'
'You deserve--' he tried to say, but she shook her head.
'But you only feel humiliation about... how I might think of you. Because you don't know how to touch me, because you don't know how to make love to me.'
Now she pulled his hands down, guiding them around her, to touch her behind, the swimsuit so racy in style that his fingers came to touch her bare skin, sending tingles and shivers through his body. She was right up against him now, he could feel the heat of her body against his, his every breath was saturated by her scent, by the smell of sex. The essence of her infidelity.
'You're not really frightened of touching me,' she said, firmly. Making him believe, if he didn't yet. 'Not any more. You know you're not going to get sick by being close to me, by connecting with me.'
He gave a little nod, and her resulting smile was pure brightness, pure beauty.
'You like how I look,' she said, 'You like how I smell...'
Now her hands moved up, past his ears, to the back of his head. She gently coaxed him, guided him to lean in, to do as he wanted. To touch his cheek gently against hers. To slip down so that his mouth and nose grazed against her soft neck. To brush his lips against her skin as he breathed her in. To press his face between her breasts and inhale that taboo scent of her infidelity.
'You like how I fuck other men,' she said, seeming to know how her words would be received, that he would feel fortified against the fear by the arousal from her talking about her wickedness. 'You like it so much,' she continued, 'that if you think about it, you completely forget about your fear of touching me... or me touching you...'
And now he felt her hands delve skillfully into his swim shorts, finding for herself just how hard he was. He breathed, deeply, and thought of how she'd used these very hands to touch another man that same night, to hold his manhood. The thought made his heart pump harder, faster, and pushed away any anxiety he felt because another person was touching him--touching his private parts.
She squeezed him, unexpectedly, and he lifted his head, looked into her sharp, dark eyes.
'You haven't asked me about what happened,' she said. 'Not in any detail, anyway.'
'No.'
She caught her breath, smiled, bit her lip. Intrigued by him. 'You were there. You saw.'
He remained silent, but his manhood bucked in her hands.
She gave a little nod, 'The curtains, they were shut. We never shut the curtains.'
'I didn't have time to get out,' he said.
'But you stayed there, without making a sound.'
It was evidence of his progress, he supposed.
'You watched everything.'
He put his hands on her shoulders--bold, for him. 'You were magnificent,' he breathed, and slowly dropped to his knees, as though so overwhelmed by her beauty, her desirability, that his legs grew weak. Her hands moved to his head, pressing him to her, his face crushed against her swimsuit, lips and nose pressing against the heat of her body, against her pussy, her adulterous pussy.
'He fucked me so hard,' she said quietly, 'right there, and you enjoyed every minute, honey. Didn't you?'
'I... did,' he said, and realized he'd been holding his breath, afraid of being overwhelmed. Now he let in the air, and his chest was filled with the powerful, dangerous scent of sex. Of his wife's sex with another man.
Effie put her hands on his head, pressing his face gently against her.
'What do you want?'
'I don't know,' he said.
'You're afraid?'
'Afraid... it would be too much for me.'
'We can go slow. Very slow.'
'It's... I didn't mean..'
He wasn't entirely sure what he meant anymore. He was filled with fear and excitement in equal measure.
She said, 'I know you've never done this before. Anything like this.'
'No.'
'You've nothing to be ashamed of. Maybe... you just need me to help you. I can tell you what to do.'
She took a step away from him, toward the edge of the pool. For a moment, he was even worried she'd fall in, but she took only one step back, and then brought one hand slowly up, her fingers brushing over her body and that tight swimsuit, quietly flaunting her figure before him. She slipped a couple of fingers under one of the straps, and eased it off her shoulder. Then off came the other strap, and she peeled the swimsuit down, freeing her gorgeous breasts, her dark, stiff nipples.
'You know,' she said calmly, even though she was risking discovery at any moment--anybody could come out here seeking a late swim and see her like this. 'You know... I can still feel him?'
She smiled, sexy, mischievous. Knowing what she was doing to him. His eyes followed her fingers closely as she continued to slowly peel her swimsuit down, exposing her stomach, her navel, her waist.
'I can feel him all over me,' she said, 'all over my body. Inside and out.'
Now her hands moved to her hips, and she slid the swimsuit down further, revealing her bare pussy, so recently filled by another man. She pushed the swimsuit down over her hips, apparently caring nothing that another resident could walk out and see her naked at any moment.
'The memory of him... fucking me... is still so strong, so intense,' she said, stooping briefly to drop her swimsuit the rest of the way down her trim legs, before straightening again, stepping out of it, completely bare before him.
God, she was the most incredible sight.
She smiled again, sweetly, loving his total attention on her.
'You know what I really want, honey?' she said, 'You inside me instead. Right where he was just now.'
His eyes fell to take in the sight
of her adulterous pussy, her freshly fucked pussy.
'I want your big, hard cock where his big, hard cock has just been.'
She took another step back. Now she was right on the edge of the pool--one more move, and she'd be in the water.
'Come get me,' she said with a smirk, turned, and dived gracefully into the pool. He watched her lithe body cut through the water like an arrow. She came up in the middle of the shallow end, and turned to face him, brushing her long, dark, wet hair back over her shoulders, her breasts exposed as she stood with the water level running just below them.
'Come into the water,' she said, 'it's perfect.'
He stood, intrigued, though he wasn't sure quite what she wanted of him. Would he get to touch her? Perhaps she was right, perhaps if it was in the pool, it wouldn't be quite so daunting. The smell of the chlorine was strong, his association of the smell with cleanliness... it might change the rules, somehow.
'You can take those off, for a start,' she giggled, her voice echoing slightly in the large room.
He indicated his swim trunks, his t-shirt, as though there was any question about which she was referring. Surely she couldn't mean... but then she was already naked herself. At first, he felt a sharp pang of fear, of embarrassment. Such a familiar feeling. But he wanted to overcome that feeling. There was also fear of disappointing her, of failing to carry out her request. And right now, with only a small chance of someone interrupting them, that fear seemed to trump the other.
What would someone really think if they came in now? If he was naked, in the pool, with his beautiful wife. A guy would think him lucky. A woman might, too.
He stripped off his clothes, and Effie giggled in pure delight. Once he felt the air on his exposed body, it felt strange, he felt vulnerable. His cock was hard, for goodness' sake. But the way she looked at him, even from a little distance, added steel to his nerve. He didn't stop for long. Better that the water lend him some cover.
He dived in, keeping his hands firmly together above his head. The cool of the water felt a little startling at first, until he took one stroke, and surfaced a few meters in front of her.
Essence of an Affair Page 11