DITW 12-12: Beata Beatrix

Josh’s stomach roiled and churned with the acid of hate and disgust and humiliation. The barbs, the jabs, the sheer arrogance from the most hated man in his history book. The craziest thing: even though Devlin had his dick out, the thing that angered him the most was some sort of barely-understood insult launched Kimmy’s way. The indignation and offense Kimmy showed on her beautiful face provoked some shining, valorous part of his psyche to urge his protection, his defense of the woman who’d been cheating on him. It was wild and unexpected.

He was sure whatever Devlin said had some sort of spark of truth (the image of Kimmy and Devlin in bed came to him, the two engaged in post-coital pillow talk, Kimmy saying how she wanted a home version of the fleshy implement that delivered such illicit pleasure, eyes turned down to watch her long finger trace a line up its underside), and that Devlin wielded the creative barb now to bash Kimmy, to put Kimmy on her heels, to get her reeling. And that was fucking exciting. He wanted to protect her, yet the desire to see her sullied, for Devlin to diminish her, was electrifying. It aroused him as well.

And that’s why he didn’t leap to her defense, merely waited to hear her response.

Kimmy’s look of disgust changed to perplexity, an expression of incomprehension. Like, what the fuck are you even talking about? It seemed contrived. She did buy a replica of Devlin’s cock. Had she masturbated with it in their own bed sometime?

His eyes settled on Devlin’s penis hanging out of his fly. It was huge. As huge as ever. It had begun to thicken at the base, and the semi-engorgement hoisted the still-flaccid end upward, but drooping, the sagging end soft and fleshy, nodding along with Devlin’s movements.

Kimmy’s eyes downturned to Devlin’s huge penis, bowing out of his fly, stiffening, but gravity urging its heft downward still. The sight of her regarding this thing that struck fear in Josh’s own heart riled even more excitement from him. It was hard to bear. His wife’s eyes rested on another man’s massive endowment and looked unbothered. Of course, she’d seen it before. She’d seen it in Cayman. Devlin had shown it off right in front of Josh—how had he ever imagined nothing had gone further between Devlin and Kimmy behind his back?—but Kimmy’s lack of curiosity or surprise or indignation cemented the truth he’d denied for so long: Kimmy had plenty of experience with Devlin’s manhood. This display was old-hat for his wife. Last fucking week in this very room he’d slapped it against her bare thigh. She’d told him that. Told him straight out.

This was why he was here. To play it out. To find something in this sinful betrayal he could hold close to his chest and call his won. To take back something these two had stolen from him.

Kimmy said, “I don’t play with toys.”

Devlin took off his suit jacket and tossed it on a nearby chair and began undoing his cufflinks. “Depends what you call a toy.” His eyes shifted toward josh and he smiled to one side.

Kimmy’s brow lowered. “Can we do what we’re here for without your dramatic flair. Do you think anyone appreciates it?”

“I do it for me,” Devlin said, dropping the cufflinks into his pocket and unbuttoning his shirt. “It’s entertaining.”

Josh said, “I don’t like the way this is going. Okay? Why do you two have to fight?”

Kimmy rubbed her jaw, wanting to say more but restraining herself. Devlin chuckled to himself, shirt fully unbuttoned now, his muscular torso displayed between the open curtains of his unbuttoned dress shirt. He faced Kimmy. “I’m not looking for a fight.”

Kimmy’s expression was plain, stolid. It was the expression of the Kimmy who scared him sometimes. “I’m not either.”

Devlin said, “Why are we here?” He looked toward Josh. “Why are we here, Josh?”

He stayed firm. “Because I want you to be.”

Devlin smiled and faced Kimmy again, amused, eyebrows high; his eyes were lively and his face depicted the phrase: see, I told you.

How many times had Devlin tempted Kimmy with the notion that her husband had wanted this all along? Devlin was the one who’d planted this seed whose roots choked off his sanity; that ate all the nutrients and minerals his brain needed to maintain healthy, rational thought. Devlin was the one who’d encouraged the seed to grow. Devlin planted his business card in the front hall. Devlin had texted him those taunts.

Now Josh chuckled, disbelieving his own blindness. It was willful. Whatever grew in his mind turned to hot lusty sunlight, turned away from reality’s darkness, all to ensure he would witness this event unfolding before him; watch the seed bloom its juicy, sinful fruit.

Kimmy said to Devlin, “And why are you here?”

Devlin handled his growing cock a moment before stuffing it back into the fly and hiding it away. It bulged out his pant leg. He stepped closer to Kimmy.

“I was summoned.”

She scoffed, turning to look at Josh.

“I didn’t tell him to be here.”

Kimmy regarded Devlin. “It was you?”

“I sent Josh a save the date.”

Kimmy wasn’t amused. “Why?”

Devlin touched her undone hair, touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Kimmy moved her face away but Devlin pursued her, saying, “Strength doesn’t exist without weakness. I’ve told you that. I didn’t appear out of a vacuum. Weakness conjures me.”

Kimmy shook her head, mouth quirked to one side, showing her cynicism. Devlin held her neck. “Josh,” he said without looking Josh’s way, “ask her again. Tell her what you want from her.”

“She knows.”

Kimmy nodded, turning up her chin. “I know what he wants.”

“Then why are we still talking?”

He pulled her closer by the back of her neck, and Kimmy’s hands disappeared inside his unbuttoned shirt. Her hands were on Devlin’s bare torso. Feeling his muscle. Feeling his masculine body.

Josh shifted, and though his temples pounded, the desire ballooned inside him, and he wanted to see more and more and more and worse and worse and worse. His palms came together between his knees in the style of prayer, and he put his weight forward, rocking, feeling his hardness squeezed by the cut of his tailored pants. Kimmy had said in front of the tailor she knew on which side Devlin dressed.

Kimmy watched her own hands on Devlin’s hard chest, pushing his shirt wider to expose more hard flesh, flecked with manly hair. “Then Josh is in charge,” she said.

Devlin didn’t deny it, only laughed a small sound in his throat.

Kimmy knew her husband’s game, was that it? Knew her husband could only find solace by reframing his position; changing himself from victim to an enabler instead. A facilitator. If he could convince himself he believed it, he might just survive this ordeal.

Devlin held Kimmy’s neck still, now thumbing her delicate jawline. “I think we all have our own hand in it. All of us need the other.”

Kimmy dragged her nails down Devlin’s chest, settling on his waistband. She slipped her long fingers underneath his silk bracers and slid them up to his chest again. “So much philosophizing for something so base.”

“I’m offended you don’t see the art in all of this,” Devlin said, thumb still jaw-stroking.

“Art used to matter when it sought beauty,” Kimmy said, slipping the braces over Devlin’s broad, muscular shoulders. The straps fell to his thighs.

Devlin’s thumb pad stroked higher, to a point just below Kimmy’s eye, resting on the point of her cheekbone. “I think we’re going to show Josh a lot of beauty. You don’t?”

Kimmy shook her head no, lips pursing. “I think it’s going to be crass, brutal. Ugly.”

“Stop,” Devlin said, enjoying it. “You’re turning me on.”

“That is what you like. Chaos. Destruction. You’re a man who pretends to build because that’s how you get close enough to set it all on fire.”

Devlin cocked his head, looking into Kimmy’s eyes. “I think Josh wants us to be nice to each other, and here you are casting aspersions again.”

“You’re right,” Kimmy said, amused by it all, like she knew she could get the better of Devlin if she wanted. And Devlin knew it, too. Josh was convinced of it. Devlin could say things that would embarrass Kimmy in front of Josh, and that worried her, but it was because she’d done things she was ashamed of. Shame showed she cared. But they were things he knew now in his heart that had really happened. And knew that despite all the betrayal, she would do whatever it took to please him. To really please him. To make things right. To make things better. If he could elaborate on that perspective, it was possible that he could find the art, the beauty in his wife’s witchcraft. But nothing came to him now, no rousing crescendo of love, no swelling violins to announce his epiphany; only an understanding that his wife was not the woman he thought he knew. She was capable of things he couldn’t imagine, capable of atrocity and meanness, and he wouldn’t want her cruelty truly aimed his way. Her cruelty, when she wielded it against him, was done for his affection, for his pleasure; but also to establish a new role in their marriage. What was once a shared road trip had become a toad’s wild ride of horror, traveling too fast with the heat cranked and all the windows rolled up; he wasn’t a driver, a copilot or a navigator, he was along for the ride, sitting in the back seat holding on for dear life while Kimmy worked the pedals and took the wheel and decided what they would listen to on the stereo.

But his eyes narrowed on a distant glimmer: a very distinct truth materialized on the roadway, something shocking. Devlin held a small measure of fear for his lawyer who he sometimes fucked behind her husband’s back. Like maybe he’d thought he controlled Kimmy at one time but now he feared she’d slipped her lead.

Kimmy smiled as if to herself and watched Devlin’s chest bared as she guided his fine dress shirt over his big shoulders. Devlin worked the dress shirt off his arms behind his back as kimmy’s fingertips explored his chest and ribs. Devlin was a fine masculine specimen; a truly powerful male build with humps of bulging muscle.

When the shirt was off, Devlin guided Kimmy back and eased her shirt off as well. Josh fixated on the swollen knot of her nipple being tested by the edge of her bra trying to close over her breast but stuck on that nipple like it was a doorstop. Both parties were topless, hands touching one another, Kimmy standing tall in her heels, Devlin unclasping her bra behind her back. Once the bra was off her smoothed his palms over her small breasts, going over both bursting nipples, and Kimmy’s expression showed a silent sighing of relief, as if his touch soothed some of the ache in her breasts, the flesh swollen with desire.

Josh sat straighter again, his thighs closing hard and squeezing on his own aching desire, his cock flexing and twitching as he watched the man who sullied his school days enjoying the one most amazing thing in his life he could call his own.

One thing was sure: if he were to ever have fantasized a scenario like this, he would never have imagined it at lunchtime on a Monday.