DITW 15-22: Chymical Wedding

For the first time he could remember, this event brought no shame or humiliation, and instead of hostility, he right-faced Kimmy, surprised, and also showing her haughty offense. Not even at the size humiliation, but at the audacity of her laughter; her willingness to bring playful abashment. It was a line crossed. Not a bad line, but one he was surprised she was already conditioned to cross. The timing surprised him; she’d been reluctant to begin this, telling him he wasn’t ready. There was a new audacity; where earlier she’d been timid and hesitant, now she joked in ways that showed her powerful ability to master a moment. But master it in a manner meant for his own benefit.

Kimmy paused the video, Devlin frozen mid-taunt. 

Josh said, “I take it you think I’m ready now?”

And in that fragile moment, where misunderstandings could seize control and turn the night in a terrible direction, there was a connection through their gaze that he welcomed. A togetherness she’d convinced him was true when they’d played games with dirty stories, when she had him believing it was the two of them against Devlin. She’d lied then, but maybe, given all that had transpired since, Kimmy intended a time like tonight where she could reclaim her affair for themselves. He didn’t think she’d ever had any genuine feelings for Devlin.

“Maybe you are,” she said, her eyes dropping to his mouth. He leaned his head closer, and they kissed, mouths mismatched but connected.

When her hand touched his side, he flinched and pulled away his kiss. His elbow tucked in to block Kimmy’s touch. 

“Let’s be careful,” he said. At his words, Kimmy’s eyes studied his, and he could glean she considered if he meant he wasn’t comfortable yet with this kind of play. But it was the opposite, and he saw her expression as she inferred his meaning: this is working, and if you move too fast, it might end before it had even begun.

“I didn’t know if I was ready for this. I was faking, to be honest. Hoping we could get somewhere back to normal.”

“This is normal,” she said—and not as a question, but as a statement.

“I guess it is,” he said.

“I love you,” she said, no smile, eyes lowered. He said it in return.

A sweet moment, but now a real complexity: the transition from this sweet intimacy to a video where his high school bully would intimidate him, say cruel things, and his wife would play on the video with his bully’s enormous penis. But he was sure Kimmy’s claim was true; that this escapade he witnessed a year later on her phone had been performed and recorded for his own pleasure.

And Kimmy understood the dilemma and his uncomfortable placement. She said, “This was what I wanted for you. I wanted us to be the tormentors, and for Devlin to be our well-endowed toy. We would use him for our own fun, and our pleasure would come at his expense.”

He straightened in the cockpit, the space between Kimmy’s open  legs, her naked breasts on his back, her chin at his shoulder. She faced the phone screen to him again, and he regarded it now, Devlin there, smudged in paused motion, sneering, ready for the taunts to continue to flow. He told Kimmy to play it, and she did.

Devlin continued: “—his little dick poked a tent-pole in the fabric. God, Josh is such a horny devil. All that pent-up lust and all he’s got for delivery is a double-A battery. And his wife needs a lot more than that. She needs a man’s cock. She’s needs it deep to get off.”

Now Kimmy’s hand in the video spread clawed fingers wide and cupped the satin heft of Devlin’s genitals stuffed into the panties. He was more than her hand could support, even with the fingers out wide. One of Devlin’s extra-large testicles escaped her clutch completely, sagging out of the flimsy fabric between the V of her pinky and ring finger. The sight of his wife’s beautiful hand on something too large and erotically ugly provoked an exquisite but awful excitement.

Devlin said, “But she’s got me for what she needs, Josh. I give it to her so good. She begs for it deep. . . . Ah, fuck, that feels good. Yeah, get me hard for Josh to see. You like her fingers wrapped around my cock? Make a circle, Kimmy, show him how thick I am.”

Kimmy’s hand swished aside, tugged up the panties’ front patch and let Devlin’s fattening penis tumble out and swing against his leg. When her hand gripped it near the middle, the end bloated, and the head of his cock swelled larger. Her hand stroked up, cinching his cock skin to a turtleneck that choked up the flared ridge of his purpling glans. Kimmy made hissing sounds of delight, loving the feel of this other man’s magnificent cock in her grip.

“God, that is so big,” Josh said.

Kimmy kissed his neck, whispering, “He’s huge.”

“Do you love it? Love how big he is?”

Kimmy kissed his neck again, nibbling a little. “You know I do.”

He watched the screen like he was stoned, mesmerized by this psychedelic unreal sight: his wife’s hand, the one with the wedding ring, getting his high school bully’s huge cock nice and hard, stroking him with care and with obvious foreknowledge, able to please Devlin with earned skill. He said, “You really know how to handle that thing.”

“He makes my hand look so small.”

“You have such beautiful hands.”

“You like seeing my hand on his cock?”

“It’s grotesque,” he said. “But in the best way.”

Kimmy’s breath grew hot on his neck while they watched her urge Devlin’s member to a raging ramrod of mythical size. Her panties had cinched a line up the center of his scrotum, and a ball hung down on either side, jiggling with her hand movements. Once he was hard, Kimmy seemed now to display it for the camera Devlin held, maybe like she was viewing the screen with him, holding it outright, showing off the length, then, as Devlin had asked, attempting to circle her thumb and middle finger around mid-shaft, not coming quite close enough to touch.

Devlin said, “You like it.”

And Kimmy, on the video, purred, “It’s beautiful.”

It had become too much to take. With each pulse of blood that pumped up Devlin’s monstrous cock, he’d come closer and closer to losing it. Like the blood pulsed into him, exciting him to a point of bursting. It was anger and jealousy and hurt and an intense sexual desire that consumed him. The video had pushed him to his limit, and they’d barely started. He had to look away.

Kimmy paused the video, hugging him tighter, putting the phone down on the bedding. “It’s too early, Josh. It’s too early.”

He enjoyed the hug, rode its pleasure for a moment, then shrugged her away. “It’s not that,” he said, rolling to his side on one of her legs, laying sideways on the bed over it. His hand grabbed a wad of bedding and squeezed. “It’s good, it’s just...”

Kimmy rubbed his shoulder. “It’s what?”

“Just give me a minute,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah-yeah,” he grunted. “It’s a lot. It’s . . . good.”

Kimmy’s hand on his shoulder stroked down his side, and it sent him into the stratosphere. He rolled away from her touch, ready to explode, getting off her thigh and onto his knees and elbows on the bed next to her, his forehead planted on the mattress. His stomach quivered and his hardness throbbed and ached and shivers of pleasure radiated in silvery lines from the tip to the root, then from there spreading like voltage gradient, zinging through his viscera and into his chest. He admitted to Kimmy in choking gasps what was wrong: that he didn’t want to come. 

Kimmy’s hand stroked his back, but as it stroked lower, toward his ass, he whimpered and moved away. “Gimme a minute.”

“You’re not going to come, Josh,” Kimmy said, with firm command. Enough, he side-peeked to see her up on her knees, a determined look on her face. She pushed him over to his back and he drew up his knees for a brief moment, then let them drop, surrendering himself to her. Putting his orgasm under her control. Kimmy smiled at the sight of his erection and the shining river of lubricant running from the tip. He closed his eyes and wished for her to grip it and stroke it and bring the release shining on the horizon. But she didn’t. Instead, she straddled him, getting his wrists and holding them over his head. She looked fucking stunning. And in a glorious spike, he felt rising love and adoration for her. She was a gift. A beautiful and smart woman who would play a game with him that brought much sexual delight. She’d bought their house, bore their child. She did everything. And she loved him.

He smiled, and she smiled, too.

She said, “You’re enjoying my video?”

“You’re the cruelest person I know,” he said, still smiling.

“We’re not even at the best part yet.”

“You have a favorite part?” he asked, playful.

Her smile faded, but not the warmth in her eyes. She said, “I don’t think we’re there yet, Josh. I warned you.”

She had warned him away from the video and all he’d thought was she was protecting herself from his furthered anger, but he’d never anticipated not being ready because of the video’s extreme provocation. This wasn’t like the afternoon in the Yorkville hotel room, where she’d tried to put his penis next to Devlin’s. That hadn’t worked. It couldn’t work because Devlin was in the room. Devlin’s presence changed his brain chemistry, disallowed any pleasure from the moment; all he’d experienced was anguish. But this video shown in retrospect, one where his wife had played against Devlin for her husband’s benefit, was altogether different. Without Devlin’s presence, it was Josh and Kimmy again.

“I’m not ready for your favorite part?”

Kimmy sucked in her lower lip, shaking her head no. The prospects riled him. What could be so outrageous he needed better preparation?

He said, “Do you like seeing him again?”

Kimmy’s mouth corners turned down, and she shook her head no again. It wasn’t the whole answer. 

He said, “Do you like seeing his cock again?”

Kimmy stayed expressionless and his heart ratcheted up good and tight, waiting for her real response. She smiled a little, then bit her lower lip. The hand holding his right wrist guided his reach down between them, where the space was warm and humid, where his cock ached mere inches away from his wife’s entry. The missed heartbeats galloped away now, knowing what she wanted him to feel and astounded by how dirty they both were.

She said, “Feel me,” and he did, finding her pussy sopping wet, hot and slick.

“You’re gushing,” he said, running his fingers through her greased folds, furrowing through the flesh to find her aperture and putting two fingers inside her, watching her eyes close and her face turn upward. “You miss his cock.”

“Yeah,” she gasped, and he folded, almost spilling his seed, drawing up his knees again, knowing if any part of her touched his live wire, there’d be a catastrophic result. He helped heave her aside, his long-legged wife and her flooded pussy getting to her back on their bed, hiding her shame now, knees together, protecting from her husband the devilish reality that another man’s cock made her horny as hell.

Josh rolled out of bed and crouched by its side. He peered at Kimmy laying on the bed, naked and gorgeous, watching him with playful amusement and the appropriate measure of shame.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

She smiled and snuffled a small laugh. “Can I make you come, please?”

He rose and stood, let her see his own magnificent specimen, maybe less than half the size in volume, and wasn’t embarrassed that his size queen wife could see it. His stomach ached; his balls ached. It would be so easy to knee onto the bed and let Kimmy slip her long fingers around his meager girth and he would finish in seconds. But he had other plans, crossing the room now, headed to the other side, knowing what to do.