DITW 11-10: (Untitled for now)

Kimmy closed her eyes. “No, Josh, he came all over the floor.” He feared she pictured it in her mind now, some bad part of his wife liking how another man had ejaculated at her request.

“You saw it? You saw his come?”

Kimmy looked down at his cock, biting her lower lip, squeezing him tight. “Yeah.”

Yeah? Fucking yeah? You saw another man ejaculate? “Aw, fuck, Kimmy, what the fuck?” He thrusted his head back into the mattress again, raising his hips up and pushing his cock through Kimmy’s exquisite grip.

“I don’t care, Josh. I don’t care about Devlin’s come. It’s an act of male dominance. Devlin came on the floor because he wants me to know I’m on his territory. I’m in his dominion.”

“Oh fuck, slow, slow, Kimmy,” he gasped, putting a hand on her wrist to slow her stroke. “What are you saying?”

“I showed him my back, Josh. I got dressed.”

He let go of her wrist and Kimmy resumed pleasuring him. “And what did he do?”

“Came up behind me. Brought his sovereign closer because I don’t bend to him.”

His eyes narrowed to hurting slits, his temples throbbing. “Are you serious? This happened? You really . . . Are you in some mind game with him?”

“That’s how Devlin is, Josh. But I don’t get bullied. I don’t bend.”

The statement came in a sudden punch and he grunted as if hit. Josh Waters let Devlin bully him, and his wife had, too. For a time. But not anymore. Was there a time Josh Waters could live his life without a man like Devlin striking fear in him? A time where Josh Waters might not be under the heel of a man like that?

Kimmy slowed, her body writhing above his, like this turned her on just as much as it turned him on. It wasn’t thoughts of Devlin that made Kimmy’s hips hump—though Devlin might be a part of it, he was sure that this act of dominance over her husband was what turned her on, what aroused her. She’d told him she got off on his humiliation. That time at the tailor when she’d espoused the knowledge of which side Devlin Stone liked to tuck his huge penis: she’d done that for Josh, part of their game. But what if he was a bystander, and Kimmy had done that for herself? Done it because it turned her on?

It was his greatest erotic fear realized, brought to vivid undeniable life right before him. All the things he fantasized to be true coming true right before his eyes. His powerful wife coming home in the clothes another man bought for her, putting her husband on his back and stroking his cock while telling him how she’d got the best of another man during the day, the two of them in some bizarre sexual encounter deep in the heart of the city, a world away from her suburban milquetoast husband.

And the fear and the humiliation aroused her milquetoast husband like no other thing could. His whole body stiffened and his stomach went to steel. The pressure built low in his belly and every slight slick movement of Kimmy’s grip brought his orgasm a thousand miles closer.

Kimmy still humped the air, her hips rolling in circles, still on her knees and over him like a panther on prey. She pushed the belly of his cock against the hot skin of her naked thigh, rubbing her skin against it. Her face came closer to his and she lowered her stomach to his cock, swished it across her skin there, too. There was an undeniable fear present in his heart. Kimmy’s strength showed like he’d never seen it before. It had always flirted close to the surface, but now it shimmered on her skin. She’d said she would protect him and he believed her now.

Quieter, more sultry, she said, “He put that huge penis against me.”

He seized up, surprised and wowed, not even believing he was hearing this. These were words of fantasy, but now they were words of document. He jolted and began to writhe even more than Kimmy.. And Kimmy smiled—she knew her husband wanted to hear this. Kimmy’s smile intimidated him. How could this be the same woman who followed him to Rome and cried in his lap?

“Standing behind me,” she continued, “he let it hang against my thigh.”

“Oh, Kimmy,” he groaned, “Oh, my god.” The hands down at his sides moved outward, curling the flesh of his wife’s long, skinny legs, caressing the place where Devlin had introduced the touch of his impressive manhood. Was it her left leg or her right leg?

The pace of her stroke quickened, and she whispered, “His come leaked on my skin. It dribbled down my leg.”

It was too much to bear. His hips rose again, and his cock surged in his wife’s hand. He grunted and exhaled until pinpricks of light swam behind his closed eyes. His balls rolled backwards into his body and he ejaculated. The release was enormous, a huge cottony explosion in his skull. Kimmy’s grip went slick with the wild deluge of his eruption. His come pattered his stomach, then his chest, even up to his neck and cheek. He emitted a long and tortured howl as his seams ripped apart with the orgasm’s thundering release.

Kimmy continued to milk and stroke his manhood as he writhed on the bed, until at last he had to still her hand before the tickling pleasure became too much to endure. She’d left him blown away and bewildered.

In the aftermath of release though, her confession closed in around him with an oppressive gloom. What he’d thought to be true was proved true. Devlin and Kimmy were close. Closer than he could have imagined. Close enough that what happened today didn’t seem too much to either of them. Kimmy didn’t shrink and recoil from his undressing. She didn’t shriek and recoil when Devlin let his come-dripping organ dangle against her leg.

Kimmy prowled away from him, off his body to the spot beside him, where she lay flat on her stomach, her right hand held out and away, shining with his pearly eruption. He lay on his back looking at the ceiling, trying to interpret his place in the marriage now after this revelation.

He didn’t even know what to make of the revelation. He would have thought he would be angrier. But his frog had been boiled so slowly that what Kimmy had just told him seemed to be sensible. How could it not be true? This was the game you’d played. Kimmy lay silent beside him, stretched out, long legs and pert bottom, higher than him on the bed, her feet dangling off the bottom, her thigh beside his face. Maybe the thigh where Devlin had let hang his heavy, dripping meat.

His arm went over the backs of her legs, just above her knee, his fingers stroking the skin. He kissed her naked hip.

She said, “That’s the leg. But lower.”

He frowned, not knowing if she’d meant where his fingers stroked or where he’d placed his lips. Then felt ashamed that she knew his perverted brain had him seeking out the section of skin where another man had tempted his wife with his huge penis. He sat up on one hip and admired her beauty a moment, Kimmy with her head facing his direction, but her eyes staring at nothing across the room, one hand under her chin, the other held out with his seed covering it. He retreated to the bathroom and got a towel, dried his chest and stomach and his face, then brought another one for Kimmy, coming to her other side and wrapping the towel around her dirtied hand. He cleaned her, getting between her fingers and down her wrist before tossing the towel toward the bathroom. Kimmy still lay silent and naked, her face hidden from him, his shadow crossing her slender back.

His hand passed over her bare buttocks and caressed the far side thigh, just below where he’d kissed her. Kimmy allowed it, remaining passive, still staring across the room, knowing her husband wanted to touch the spot where Devlin had been. She wouldn’t know why, but neither did he. What might she tell herself about kind Josh Waters, the upstanding young man she’d married?

Her wedding ring hand moved down to take his and guide it lower, guide it to where Devlin’s cock had touched her. It gave him licentious approval, and from where she let his hand go, he stroked lower, to the side of her knee, to where Devlin’s semen might have dribbled.

Kimmy had reached out to him today. She’d told him some awful things. But there were more important statements made. She doesn’t like Devlin Stone. She’s better than him. Josh Waters is all she cares about. This apartment she shared with him was her home. It was the place where the real Kimmy resided. That statuesque and frightening lawyer she became when she donned the costume and the face paint and headed into the city was something she did for the success of their marriage and the life they’d plotted for themselves. He detected no lies in her statement. She’d been adamant. And as much as her presence in Rome had driven a stake through his heart, he couldn’t imagine how lost he would feel right now if she’d never come to him. Never come to his hotel room and begged his forgiveness without ever uttering the direct words. She’d been unfaithful. Kimmy and Devlin had got close, and Kimmy had been prompted by her husband’s desire.

He said, “Do you blame me?”

Kimmy didn’t react right away, didn’t jump up and assuage any guilt he might have. But she slowly raised her head, then turned to her side, looking over her shoulder at him. She looked innocent and resigned. This was the way their life was now.

“Not one bit, Josh.”

“Are you sure?”

Her head cocked to one side. “I love you.”

He exhaled, and his shoulders fell forward. It was an absolution he hadn’t known he needed. And then, as if Kimmy’s indiscretion had been only a mild thing, he said, “You’re not going to leave me for him?” It was a boyish, comical thing to say, something to lighten the mood even. But he did want to know her answer. He wished he had a maturer way of asking.

Kimmy reached to take his hand and he offered it. She wove her fingers through his and he lowered himself to lay at her side. The sun had lowered and lit the bedroom in an otherworldly orange, like they had an apartment on a distant planet somewhere.

Without the nerve to say it to her face, he said toward their orange-painted ceiling, “I wish I wasn’t this way.”

“You?”

“You know what I mean.”

She said, “You can’t help who you are. Nor can I. I don’t want you to apologize for being you. I married you because I loved you and this is who you are.”

He didn’t even deserve her. Didn’t deserve this blameless treatment. She should defend herself with greater weapons, poke at him and say how he started it, how he put her in the place where all this bad could happen. “So where does this put us?”

Kimmy squeezed his hand, spoke to the ceiling the same way he did. “I think we’re in a lot of trouble.”

Her words chilled him. They’d been in a quiet and caring moment, but her words were grave and frightening. “We are?”

She brought his hand to her chest, not letting go of him, bringing him closer. “We’re together, Josh, and I’m not letting you go. But we’re in trouble.”

His head rolled so he could face her profile. “What do you mean?”

Her head rolled so she faced him. “If we stick together, maybe we can get through it.”