DITW 15-19: Orbital Mechanics and Entry Windows

That she would do such a devilish thing! Kimmy would do the worst things she could imagine; had done the worst things, thinking meager Josh might fantasize it; did it because whether it was for Josh didn’t matter; Kimmy loved it. Loved to torture him in secret. This mild woman he’d married, this woman of once plain sex, and a kind, clean home, was wicked. Perverted. She wore a black crown of poisonous thorn, and wore it with grace. He would never know if Devlin or Amy had started last summer’s treachery, or even if it had been Kimmy who'd started it. He’d never know the truth because he’d stepped away from consciousness that night at Tiffany’s; had over-indulged and paid the price. Hell, maybe it had been Kimmy who’d put it in his ear he wanted to have Devlin fuck her.

Or maybe it had been him all along.

But he possessed Kimmy now. Of that he was sure. A baby and a house. And sex. Awful sex. Amazing sex. The return of whispered treasures, of diabolical sexual exploits that sent his delight into the stratosphere.

He pulled her face from the pillow, hand on the back of her neck slipping to her collar, and guiding her upright, his cock popping out from inside her, Kimmy's back pressing to his chest. He kissed her neck and stroked her shoulder. This was Colleen’s mother, and he wouldn’t mistreat his daughter’s mother. And deep down in his chest’s host rock, past the gangue and under the overburden, lay unexpected and undeserved love, a thin vein of still-sparkling ore. He said, “How can I still love you?”

Kimmy moaned and rubbed between her thighs, like she needed him. Or needed it. “Because you know I love you. You know it. And knowing that means everything.”

The idea rolled in his mind and found no dip nor abscess that would halt it. The idea had racy momentum, and all he knew was he needed an answer why he could love her; and her response was as good as any. Fear peeked past the veil when his preconscious whispered he hadn’t the courage to hate her. “You did those terrible things because you loved me.”

The hand Kimmy held between her thighs reached deeper underneath her and found his hardness. She angled his return and guided her hips back so he would enter her again.

He said, “I want to make love to you. I don’t want it like this.”

Kimmy stilled, his length only in her a shallow depth, and what he sensed as disappointment pierced his psyche. Wounded him. Frightened him. “Just one time, Kimmy. I want you as my wife. I want you like how we used to be.”

“I want that, too,” she said. After a moment, she eased forward, let his dick slip out of her, and knee-walked around to face him before reclining on the bed, head on a pillow. Her long legs parted, knees out to the sides, and she wiped her cheeks and then motioned for him to join her. To get on top of her.

A huge feeling of inadequacy seized his heart. A true and primal fear of not being enough. Not satisfying her. Of loving her and suffering under her cruelty, and yet once reunited, failing to please her in the way she liked—a perpetual failure that may have led to their catastrophe. Worry that his wife had gone to Devlin not just because of Devlin’s big dick and money and good looks, but because her husband wasn’t dirty enough. Wasn’t nasty enough. How couldn’t he think Kimmy loved all that depraved sex? How couldn’t he believe that she would miss it again in the future?

She didn’t love Devlin. She loved sweet Josh. 

But she’d loved the wickedness more—and wickedness grew in unimaginable measure when applied in her husband's naive proximity. Being with Devlin alone would never do it for Kimmy. She would just be another wicked widget in the wicked widget factory. And now he could see the betrayal for what it was and how she’d worked so hard to have him back. The act of betrayal and the stark humiliation turned her on. Drove her wild. She’d even wanted to humiliate Devlin. And what would that have looked like? Would it have raised Josh Waters’ esteem in her own eyes? Or would she have reveled in humiliating them both at the same time? Maybe she loved disparity and would have experimented in exchanging one man over the other, waging them against one another in value, making sure each of them both equaled the same amount, but struggled in endless turmoil on their designated pans, wanting to make a difference in her measure.

How would he ever arouse a woman like that? How would he do the things that made her go crazy? Without a question, he wanted her to have that sexual satisfaction. To have that erotic joy.

What if she likes other men to come in her mouth and then have her kiss you? Would you do such a thing?

You already did such a thing.

He dropped over top of her, his face hovering over hers. "Why the fuck do I still love you?" Kimmy said nothing and he said, "Why don’t I hate you?"

"Do you want to hate me?" She touched his cheeks.

He shook his head. "I want to love you. I wish it was easier."

"It will be." Then she kissed him, holding his face, lying on her back. Just the way he'd asked her to. Like the way they were before everything went wrong.

Like the way that provoked Kimmy's disenchantment. The way he'd bored her before.

His hand trembled now, gripping his hardness and swiping the tip of his throbbing hardness along Kimmy's slippery seam. He thumbed it downward and sank inside her hot interior. He went halfway, withdrew and coated his tight cock skin with her slick lubrication. And she moaned. And while she moaned all he thought was she lied. She betrayed. She made the sounds she thought she should to appease his bruised ego. But so what? Hadn't she done enough? Kimmy had done so much to restore them, to bring him back to her bed. Did he want her to stay silent while he fucked her?

But now he moaned too, and the feel of her tight wet-velvet squeeze on his member was delight in the purest form. Light bloomed in his mind and he closed his eyes, rolled into her deeper, pulled back and did it again. Kimmy roiled against his intrusion. Wanting him. Perhaps wanting him deeper. Wanting him harder and dirtier, wanting him to do the kinds of things Devlin Stone did to her behind his back. The two of them fucking and sucking and laughing. Luxury hotel suites and fancy restaurants, and Prada shoes and Mercedes Benz convertibles.

Kimmy's pelvis rocked with his thrusts, giving him easy access and eager supplication to his turgid cock. He plowed her with ease. The pleasure was enormous. The fear was greater.

She'd given it all up for this? Given it all up for her okay husband with a mediocre job and soft body and average dick? When she'd had it all? There were things Devlin didn't have that she wanted. There were things about him that made Kimmy whole.

He grunted and groaned, watching his wife's upturned face, positive she feigned that look of ecstasy he witnessed. But she overflowed with wet. She made the sounds he liked. And he loved to be in bed with her. Their bed.

He fucked her faster, getting the bed squeaking, feeling his cock steeling harder; he'd lagged at those awful thoughts of inadequacy. But now he was iron again. Rock hard and wanting to come inside her. Wanting to go all night but knowing he wasn't that man. He could be what she wanted since she insisted so much she would do the same for him. He gripped her hair, not with anger or hatred, but out of sheer frustration. He growled at her, "Devlin came in your mouth and you kissed me?"

Kimmy shook her head no, wincing at the pull of her hair in his shaky grip.

He fucked her harder, and with urgent need. A man out of control with sexual excitement. "You sucked his big cock and let him blow his load in your mouth."

Kimmy gasped, eyes closed with intense lust, loving his words. freed by them.

"And then you kissed me."

Kimmy shivered with cruel excitement. “I wondered if you could, mm, taste him. Did you taste his, ah, come, Josh?”

Josh's balls climbed high. Disappeared up inside his body. Afraid and belittled and diminished. But swelling with impending release. Filled with seed enough to make them Colleen's beautiful sibling. Their connection slicked with a generous spew of his grease, thrusting into her, wishing he had a monster between his legs so he could punish Kimmy's sex the way it deserved. Stretch her sex to the limit, an enormous cock head reaming her guts before it exploded inside her like a hand grenade, flooding her with an orgasmic payload that rounded her belly once more.

Fuck, they’d come close to enormous destruction.

Colleen could have been Devlin’s.

It wasn’t impossible for it to have happened.

Colleen was all his, but it was close.

"You’re so fucking awful," he said, caressing her throat, racing thoughts of murder flittering over the surface of his mind. Yet so fucking in love. So renewed. The complex thing between them simplified in theoretical equations, chalk on a blackboard. Two sides of an equation. No matter how one changed, the other must follow. And after all the harm, all the betrayal, somehow she’d restored what they had. Had proved to him not only her love but her dedication. 

The risk!

Kimmy had risked it all. Risked it all for the thrill. Fucked around without proper protection and almost bore another man’s child.

And the thought scared the shit out of him and drove him wild at the same time.

  *

It felt incredible to have him inside her again. To feel his hardness thrusting in and out, to hear his breath and feel his body. No man had been inside her since Devlin. It took almost a year for this reunion but it was worth the wait and worth the effort.

She asked him again if he tasted Devlin's semen on her kiss and Josh rewarded her with liquid delight and quivering limbs. He shivered with his orgasm's hasty approach. He sought to rage and rail, but succumbed to his own delight. Easy surrender. For Josh was fictile, and the world around him chose his shape.

And like that, he stiffened, and she closed her legs around him, held him close and held him tight. He bucked and grunted with wonderful release and the woe of completion. He hid away his face in the pillow, their connection warm and sweaty now, but still very nice. She rubbed his back as his seed leaked from their union and his hardness faded. It would return.

She told him: “I’m not me without you. I’m nothing. I wouldn’t know who I am.” And there was more truth in that than she could describe to Josh. A slippery phantasm pastiche would sometimes flicker behind her eyes like a zoetrope, showing trips to Taiwan and high school and happier times at Dalton High and in Kingston, of going to university, of marrying Josh and wanting a family. That’s who she was and she never wanted to forget that. Without Josh, she would be a woman she hated. Who most everyone she knew would hate. Her father, her friends. Even her mother wouldn’t like that person. And Colleen Chang had loved everyone.

Josh stirred, kissing her neck and jaw, showing his face once more. She smiled, patted his bearded face. He was handsome and boyish, and though he said Colleen had his mother's eyes, she saw only his when she regarded their daughter.

Josh withdrew, and a stream of semen spilled from her, getting her legs closing while Josh rolled away and lay next to her. He gripped her hip and pulled her closer. Then his hand slipped down her thigh and up the back, sending her into shivers, hardening her nipples and making her gasp. He smiled, knowing her spots. —And it made her think of how she'd shared that with Devlin. Intimacy. Not always raw sex, but sometimes a dark closeness she regretted.

There was sadness though in his eyes, and she could imagine a few things that would bother him. The thing she had said and his own regret for enjoying it. When she'd said it, he couldn't hold his orgasm back for long. And the shortcoming. Worried how much bigger Devlin's penis was, and how quickly he'd ejaculated.

He sat up and left the bedroom, walking naked to the bathroom. He looked good leaner. When he returned he delivered a towel and she fixed it between her legs, remaining on her side and watching Josh's eyes. He settled beside her, laying the way she was, the two of them close and confidential.

He said, "What would you have done to him, if you could?"

She snuffled a small laugh. "Who, Devlin?" She snuffled again, looked away and then looked back. Josh still stared, undeterred. She said, "I would have broken him. I told you. I was so close to owning him."

Josh smiled too, a sparkle in his eyes. "Tell me."

She breathed deep, adjusted the towel between her thighs. "I . . . I made him as obsessed with my panties as you. Maybe even more." She cupped Josh's cheek and thumbed the corner of his mouth.

He frowned but his smile stayed. "Why?"

"To break him, Josh. He thought it was so funny to do it to you. So I did it to him."

Josh closed his eyes and chuckled. "What did you do?"

She hesitated, unsure of what to say. Then: "I made him wear them."

Josh laughed. "They wouldn't fit him."

"They did," she said. "And I filmed him in them."

Josh's smile and frown faded and he licked his lower lip. The frown returned.

Cold fear formed below her heart and she opened her mouth to speak but didn't know what to say.

Josh sat up, cheeks hollowed and eyes staring.

"I'm sorry, baby," she said, sitting up, following him, touching his back. "I don't want to talk about those bad things. I shouldn't have said anything."

Josh turned his face to hers. "Did you really?" His expression was softer, but she remained expressionless.

Josh looked down and then back up again. "Do you have the video?"