CHERRY BLOSSOMS // Revisited // Montréal // 3.16

Geoff was so good to her. He didn’t go to the show even though he should have. Instead, he hung around with her all day. He sent Winslow to the show at around ten in the morning, had him operate the booth in the independent section. He’d called Jenny and explained that he had a family situation and she told him it was okay, and to do what he needed. The Sunday show was always quieter, anyway. Nia needed him.

He took care of Odie while Nia slept in bed until lunchtime. Then he made them all something to eat. She’d wanted soup even though it was July and then Odie said she wanted some, too. So Geoff made egg salad sandwiches and soup and Nia came down to the family room and ate on the couch with the two of them.

Then Geoff cleaned up and made a pot of coffee and they watched Netflix in the afternoon and it turned out to be a sweet family day. They watched three movies; they made popcorn. Geoff could always make things right and he sure pulled through for her. She pushed away all the badness that she’d done and her family welcomed her home, even her sweet husband, who only had a very mild idea of what she had done.

During the third movie, Odie fell asleep on Nia’s stomach, her head up on her shoulder, her little hand curled up under Nia’s chin. She looked at Geoff, and he smiled, and she knew he was exploding inside. Knew how in love he was with her, with his family, and how much he was bursting to hear the dirty details.

Geoff took Odie down to the bakery at around six o’clock, and they brought home dinner. She’d checked her phone urgently while they were gone, but there was no message from Rocco. She felt a weight across her back again.

Odie got sleepy at around eight, and Nia admired Geoff’s restraint for not pressuring their daughter to go to bed earlier. Nia also fought the urge. She couldn’t wait to climb into bed with that special man and tell him all sorts of perverted things.

* * *

Odie got tucked in and it was still light out. His luck was unimaginable. He let her stay up in bed, didn’t read to her but left her with two of the books they’d bought yesterday at the Expo, let her read until she put herself asleep.

“Thanks, Daddy,” she said. “Good night.”

“Good night, angel,” he said, turned her room light off, left her in her princess bed, under her lacy tent with just the bedside light. The sun was low, turning the whole room a wavering orange. He closed her door.

His hands were sweaty, and he rubbed them on his track pants as he walked to the bedroom. All day he’d waited for this, now here it was. What was he going to hear? Did he want to hear it?

He opened the door and saw his sweet Nia sitting on their bed, waiting for him. She was in a loose T-shirt and her lightest summer cotton capri pajama pants. Pale yellow with rubber ducks on them. He’d bought them for her two years ago at a book signing at an upscale mall in Rhode Island.

He stood at the door, savoring this moment, savoring seeing her so sweet like this, knowing the horrible thing she’d done and knowing she was about to tell him.

“Hi,” he said.

She patted the bed next to her, said, “Come here.”

“How you feeling?” he asked her as he climbed up.

She raised one knee up, put the other leg straight out, said, “Don’t worry about me. It’s your time now, baby. Come sit between my legs.” She held her arms out to him, luring him in.

He came to her, and she pulled him in, sat him the way she wanted. She pulled three pillows over for him to lean against and he pressed his back to them, her outstretched leg behind him. She was at his shoulder, her mouth at his ear, perfect for a storytelling. He leaned back and felt a tingle of warm pleasure having his body pressed to hers, having her holding him and loving him. Her right hand lay on his stomach, scratched at his skin lightly, worked its way down and slid under the waistband of his sweatpants. She gripped him lightly.

“Hard already?”

“Nia, I’ve been hard all day. I’ve been aching for this.”

“Me too.”

“You too?”

“Yeah, Geoff. I want this for you. I get you, baby.” Her hand stroked him gently. “What do you want to hear?”

“I want to hear everything that happened, Nia. Everything.”

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Start at the good part. You sent me a text on Saturday that he had a huge cock.”

“Yeah, I saw it Friday night. He came out of the shower and he accidentally let me see it, if you know what I mean.”

“Flashed you?”

“Yeah, he walked past our open adjoining doors with it swinging.”

“Huge, huh?”

“Yeah. But nothing happened Friday.”

“No?”

“Uh-unh. I wanted him to be excited, you know? So I went to bed, left him high and dry, and I masturbated.”

“Oh, Nia. Really? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I did. I was so worked up.”

“Ungh,” he grunted, couldn’t help flexing himself into her soft grip. He pulsed slippery pre-cum into her hand.

“Oh, Geoff, you like me when I’m bad?”

“I do.”

He flexed again in her hand, felt himself swell and felt his urethra part with more pre-cum.

“Wow, do you ever,” she said, feeling him getting slipperier. She nibbled his earlobe, and he groaned.

“That’s so hot that you did that.”

Her hand came out, and pushed his waistband down until his bare cock popped out. He pushed his hips off the mattress and took his sweatpants right down. They both watched her hand slowly stroke his cock now.

“Nothing happened again until last night. I teased him a bit, let him accidentally see me in that lingerie you bought me.”

“Did he like it?”

“I drove him crazy.”

“Yeah? I bet you did.”

“So, I got him worked up and then I pretended like I was going to go to bed and he finally, you know, couldn’t take it anymore and he grabbed me. Slammed the door to stop me from leaving.”

“And?”

She leaned to do something, left him hanging with his cold erection sticking straight up between his legs.

“Nia?”

She came back to him holding the bottle of massage oil he’d bought her, she’d hidden it behind her, at the ready. She popped the cap apart and squeezed a stream into her cupped hand. “He grabbed me, picked me up like I was nothing and he carried me to his bed.” Her warm oily hand grasped his shaft, her wet grip slid up and down, her hand spreading at the base and her fingers diving to his balls and pulling them, separating them, squashing them, then gripping his shaft and sliding right up to his tip, then back down and gripping his balls again.

“Oh fuck, Nia.”

“Yeah, so he took me to his bed, and he tossed me on to it. He pulled his pants off and I saw how big he was when he was hard—”

“How big?”

“The, uh, yeah, the biggest I have ever seen.”

“Was it like Dino?”

“Looked a lot like Dino’s, but even bigger.”

“Bigger than the one in the sex store?”

“A lot bigger.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It was bigger than that. Remember when I said there was no XXL. He has it. Shit, it’s like an XXXL. What he did to my pussy, baby? Fuck, it hurts so bad. I could barely sit on the plane.”

“Did you . . . did you feel him in your tummy?”

She snickered, looked at him sweetly and rested her palm on his cheek. “I did, Geoff. It felt like I was getting fucked with a baseball bat.”

His heart sank thinking of her like that. Her with something like that, then the thing she had in her hand right now. She had played with one—less than twenty-four hours ago—that was so much bigger. She’d been fucked with it. Fucked with it and now she was so sore she couldn’t have sex with her husband. So big he’d hurt his Nia with it. It was too much.

She worked him still. Her hand went up and down. Her thumb would dazzle his tip, then she’d plunge fast and hard all the way to the base. She had technique. She always kept him guessing, and he loved everything she did.

“You give good hand jobs.”

“Thank you, Geoff.”

“No, you said that to me. Like other people have told you that.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well, yeah.”

“Other men have told you that?”

“Yeah, they have.”

“Dino told you that.”

“Yes,” she said, watching her hand slowly travel up and down his glistening, aching cock.

“Rocco?”

“I haven’t jerked him off yet.”

“You’re going to?”

“Probably.”

“How much bigger is he?” he asked, nodding with his chin towards his cock in his wife’s hand.

“I don’t know. Like, I guess, twice your size.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. Like twice as long and a lot thicker. But really, kind of ugly.”

“Ugly?”

“Yeah, kind of ugly.”

“Not pretty like mine?” he joked.

“You have a good-looking cock, Geoff. Look at it.”

She held it out in her fingertips. His very normal looking, average length, average girth penis, circumcised.

“You like mine?”

“Geoff, I’ll say it a million, million times. I love your cock.”

“Rocco’s was scary?”

“Real scary. Like his foreskin was really dark, and he has a lot. Like Dino, too. But Rocco has hair growing out of his penis, like wiry hair…”

“Like a boar?”

“Ha, yeah, Geoff. His cock is weird, like an animal’s. Like a big ugly donkey cock with a fat wet bulb that peeks out of his foreskin.”

“Gross. You still liked it?”

“I did.”

“He fucked you with it?”

“He fucked me with it.”

He felt himself sigh. Felt her hold him tighter for a moment. Squeeze him. Tell him it was okay.

“He put that big ugly thing inside your pretty body?”

“Yup.”

“Tell me.”

“He threw me on the bed and then we kissed and he got between my legs. He took my clothes off, and it was all going so fast.”

Her hand picked up a rhythm again, slowly up and down, her thumb closing in on his glans on her upstroke.

“Took your clothes off?”

“Pretty much ripped them off.”

“Yeah?”

“Then he pressed it into me, in between my legs.”

“No condom?”

“No, Geoff,” she whispered into his ear. “That was a big mistake.”

“Keep going.”

“I wrapped my legs around his hips and he forced it into me.”

“Forced it?”

“He’s big. It hurt.”

“I don’t like that.”

“Just at first, baby. I wasn’t wet enough. He took me really fast, and I didn’t have time to get excited, you know?”

“Okay,” he said, feeling his brow dropping, getting heavy with worry. His wife alone with that monster, hurting her, punishing her with his over-sized body parts. “It was good?”

“It was great,” she gasped.

“Why?”

“He’s so strong. And big. Not just his cock—I mean him. He’s big. I was powerless, I . . . if I wanted to, I couldn’t have budged him.”

“That’s hot?”

“That’s . . . fuck, Geoff—that’s my thing.”

“He gave it to you rough like you wanted?”

“He did it like I wanted. Holy shit, Geoff,” she said, laughing, “you are so hard right now.”

“I know,” he whispered, head falling back against her, looking at her hand on his aching cock, watching her oil-glistened fist go up and then back down his shaft. His wife was good at hand jobs. His wife understood cocks. She knew how to make him come with just her hand.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you, too.”

“You going to come for me?”

“Yeah,” he croaked.

“Let’s watch you come, okay?”

“Ah, yeah, keep talking, please.”

“He fucked me, Geoff. Fucked me so hard with that huge animal cock—he split me so bad I can barely walk today, baby.”

“Oh shit, Nia, oh, here it comes . . .”

“He fucks like a goddamn man, Geoff.”

“Did you—ah, did you come?”

“I did, Geoff. He was rough, and that’s—that’s what I want. And he made me come three times.”

“Oh fuck, Nia, I’m gonna come . . .”

“Come for me, Geoff.”

“Oh, ah, you sucked his cock?”

“I did. Later—I sucked him and he came in my mouth and over my face.”

“You fucking whore . . .”

“That’s it, Geoff.”

“Did he come inside you?”

“He did, baby, he filled me right up and kept fucking me and I could feel his come splashing out and down my ass and all over the b—”

“Argg, fuck, oh—” He came, and Nia inhaled sharply, witnessing it. She stroked him furiously, up and down his shaft and they watched him launch his seed up into the air, high and hot, watched it splash down on his thigh and over her arm and her hand.

“That’s it, Geoff, I love you so much, I love you . . .”

He sank into her arms and she gently stroked him until he subsided, squeezing and holding him, gently easing his last surges from him. They were both silent as they watched her hand on him, watched his cock slowly deflate and go limp.

She put her arms around him, her messy hand held up high, letting the drips roll down her wrist rather than on the bed. She hugged him close and said, “I wish we could make love, Geoff.”

“Me . . . me, too,” he panted.

She turned at the waist, brought a towel out she’d tucked behind her and dried her hand off. She kissed his hair, dropped the towel clean side down over his limp cock, and she wrung him out into it, dried him in his creases and under his balls, wiped his thighs.

“Let me know when you’re ready again,” she whispered.

He pulled her into his chest and held her close, rested his chin in her hair. “Give me a minute,” he said.

She whispered, “You missed me?”

He laughed. “You know I did.”

“I’m so glad to be home.”

“You going to fuck him again?”

“I want to. I definitely want to.”

“You do?”

“Sorry, Geoff. Yeah, I really do.”

“It hurt—”

“I’ll buy lube. I just need lube.”

Six months ago, a regular Sunday, they would have watched TV until 10. If he didn’t stay up to draw they would come up here, and he would get between her legs and he would be gentle and kind with her because he loved her. This was crazy. This was worth it. Worth the danger, the fear. The excitement, the lascivious thrill, was all-encompassing. He’d never loved her more, never wanted to make love to his Nia more.