Two Sides of Terri (16 page)

He pulled out and drove back into her hard. She grunted. I gasped. Then again. And again. Her nipples were rock hard, pressed into my chest.

And then suddenly she screamed, “Oh my fucking God.”

She came hard. And before I knew it, I was climaxing as well. But he wasn’t done. Even as my erection faded and I slipped from Terri, our juices drenching my lap, he continued to sodomize her.

I could never have imagined being in this situation. She clenched to me tighter, gasping and wheezing into my ear. He was using her, each thrust palpable as she pressed against me. I could hear him groaning with pleasure, his own sounds surprisingly close. Then with a contented sigh, he finished inside her. I could feel his every shudder conducted through her body.

He withdrew and she relaxed, melting against me, still breathing hard, but her cheek now resting in the crook of my neck. She caught her breath and leaned back, sitting on my thighs.

She removed the scarf from my eyes. Even though she’d dimmed the lights, it still took me a few moments to adapt to the change in brightness. Then my eyes found hers. She gave me a searching look, trying to ascertain if I was okay. I wasn’t sure I was, but I gave her a quick nod just the same. She smiled brightly.

Chucky emerged from the bathroom, buck naked, looking very fit and pleased with himself. His dong hung before him, flaccid but still impressive. She’d told me we were the same size, but now I wondered if she’d just been trying to spare my feelings.

She disentangled herself from me, loosening the cuff on my right wrist. I was now free if I wanted to be, but I remained in place just as if I were still fully restrained. He handed Terri a damp washcloth and she wiped herself down with casual ease. It was a small gesture, but telling. My wife had become the kind of woman could unselfconsciously give herself a whore’s bath standing naked between two lovers.

She had moved the armchair so that it sat at the foot of the bed, and when he sat down on the mattress, he was positioned directly in front of me, just a few feet away. He patted the bed and my wife curled up beside him like a cat, her head in his lap, coaxing another erection out of him.

“I was wrong,” he said, pausing cryptically.

“Oh?” I replied.

He grinned. “She does have a beautiful pussy, but these tits are just perfect,” he said as he cupped one of her breasts and proceeded to knead it forcefully.

He was immensely pleased with himself, though I couldn’t tell if he got off on the sex itself, or whether it was having sex with another man’s wife, or if what really got him going was fucking my wife particularly.

He was pinching her nipples, stretching them out. She responded like a perfect little submissive slut, sucking his cock more vigorously, massaging his balls, getting him hard. Just feet away, I could see every detail, hear ever slurp and lick.

When I looked back up at his face, finally tearing my eyes away from the scene in his lap, he gave me a cocky smile. I couldn’t blame him, although I had a momentary instinct to reach out and slap him silly. He read my mood perfectly because he proceeded to twist in the knife.

“She is so giving. And I’ve been taking everything, haven’t I?” He taunted as his hand slid in her butt crack, reminding me again that he’d taken her anal virginity, that indeed he was still the only man to buttfuck her. “But that’s only fair, considering that you took her away from me.”

There was something about that sentence that struck me as odd, but I didn’t have time to process it before he jammed two fingers deep in her pussy. She gasped at the intrusion.

“Such a juicy cunt. Should I fuck her again?”

I didn’t answer. But I didn’t look away either. And the hungry look on my face seemed to be enough to satisfy his desire for my acquiescence.

He pulled her into his lap and she eagerly impaled herself on his cock. She reached behind her and rested her hands on his thighs, and rode him like that, back arched, face to the ceiling.

“That’s it, baby, fuck me good,” he groaned as he abused her boobs, mauling and slapping them hard. The rougher he was, the more she responded, gasping, moaning, bouncing up and down like a woman possessed.

After a few minutes, he seized her by the scruff of the neck and pulled her body against his. Then reaching down, he spread her ass cheeks and began thrusting upward vigorously, giving me a explicit view of his cock pounding into her pussy, of her anus, red and puffy from his earlier abuse.

I remembered how she’d described the threesome with Jason, how Chucky had played at amateur pornographer, posing them in various positions. I realized now as he put her through her paces that he was doing the same thing again, except with me as the audience. I didn’t know whether to be appalled or strangely appreciative.

He spun her around and sat her back down on his cock facing me. He gripped her throat firmly with one hand while the other reached down to spread her labia, giving me another unobstructed angle as he hammered into her clean shaven pussy. Her breasts were jiggling violently, her face red with strain, but her moans were sultry sounds of pleasure.

After a few minutes of that, he grabbed her breasts and squeezed them painfully. She winced and let out a high-pitched whine, but she didn’t resist as he used her tits as handles to bounce her up and down on his prick.

He lifted her off him, forced her to her knees and shoved his wet cock into her mouth until his balls slapped her chin. He held her there, his hand wrapped tightly in her hair, as obscene gurgles bubbled out of her throat and spit ran down her cheeks.

Then just as quickly, he stood her up, still yanking on her blond locks, and manhandled her until she was face down on the bed, facing me. He wedged a pillow under her waist, propping up her ass, and entered her pussy from behind. He fucked her brutally, seemingly trying to drive her through the mattress.

Although Chucky was obviously focused on me and my reactions, Terri had been oddly aloof throughout. The only time we’d made eye contact was when she removed my blindfold. But now he seemed determined that she acknowledge me.

“Look at him,” he ordered, wrenched her head up and forcing her face in my direction.

Our eyes met. For a moment I thought I could see an entire catalogue of dark emotions fly across her face. Embarrassment, contempt, sadness, anger. Or maybe that was what I thought she should be feeling? Maybe it was what I was feeling?

Then her eyes rolled back into her head, and when she looked back at me, her eyes seemed glazed. Her gaze was blank, lost in the moment. Fuck drunk.

I couldn’t tell when she came—even if she did. And if she did, I had no idea if it was once or a dozen times. The sex was rough, physical, and aggressive. He made her squeal like I never had.

But it came with a price. She was just a piece of meat to him, a convenient hole in which to masturbate. She was a submissive prop to allow him to play out his domination and exhibitionism fantasies. She could never mean so little to me. I could never treat her like he did, but the problem was that she obviously loved it, craved it. I wondered if she’d always been play-acting with me, denying her true desires. And I wondered if she’d ever really been happy with me—could really
be
happy with me—if I could never meet this need of hers.

Still, the scene before me was undeniably erotic. I realized with a shock that I had slipped my hand from its restraint, despite my conviction not to, and that I was stroking myself rapidly in time with Chucky’s hard thrusts into my wife. He groaned suddenly and shuddered. The sight of him climaxing in my wife set me off. I came like a geyser, a load of jism arcing and landing in my lap.

He continued to pump his cock into her slowly, making sure she received every last drop of his come. She was gasping, catching her breath, but glowing with satisfaction. She was obviously proud of her ability to take everything he could dish out, to satisfy such a demanding lover.

He was surprisingly tender, caressing her shoulder. He leaned forward and she turned toward him. They kissed passionately, a perfectly appropriate coda to what had just happened, and yet still like a kick in the stomach to me.

The kiss also triggered another realization.
You took her away from me
, he had said. And suddenly it made sense. And immediately I knew it had to end, and end now.

Terri noticed my distress. She opened her mouth, but I cut her off. I didn’t need or want Chucky involved in what happened next.

“Damn, that was hot,” I said in a cheery voice.

“We’re just getting started,” Chucky replied.

I forced a laugh as I slipped off my restraints. “Sorry Chuck, Terri and I are going to have some mango smoothies, and you’re going to have to leave.” I wanted to make sure she knew I was done.

He looked at her for confirmation.

“You need to leave,” she said simply.

“Can I at least—”

“No,” she replied firmly. “Just go.”

It is hard to describe the relief I felt at that moment. She’d disentangled herself from him and stood beside me, naked, freshly fucked, still full of his semen, and yet unambiguously on my side.

He shrugged and got up. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.”

“Okay,” she replied non-committal.

CHAPTER 12:
CONFRONTATION

“I’m sorry I kissed him,” she began after we’d showered separately.

We were in the living room, both of us independently opting to dress in asexual sweats. I’d poured us a couple of scotches.

I laughed. Objectively, kissing was the least of her sins.

“You know what I mean,” she snapped defensively.

“I do. At one point you told me kissing him was too intimate. Have you been kissing him this whole time?”

She stiffened, but didn’t answer.

“Should I take that as a yes?”

“Bill, Jesus, yeah, I kissed him sometimes,” she said. “What do you expect? We were having sex, regularly, you know.” She paused. “You do know. I told you every fucking detail.”

I put my hands up. “Whoa, Terri, this isn’t an inquisition.”

“It feels like it.”

I laughed. “I don’t know if you noticed. But I had a good time tonight.”

“You did?” Her tone was so desperate for approval that I couldn’t help but melt.

“Yes. But we’re done.... With Chucky, we’re done.”

“Okay, but—”

“Terri, what did he mean when he said I took you away from him?”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

“Yes, you do.”

“He and I were together before you.”

“Before?”

“Yes.”

I shook my head. She was a terrible liar.

“So you didn’t see him after we met?”

She hesitated. “I never cheated on you.”

“I didn’t say you did. But that wasn’t what I asked.”

“Bill, what do you want?”

“Just the truth, I guess.”

She just stared at me, so I continued.

“We met at that stupid kick-ball game. I took you out on to dinner the next weekend. Were you still sleeping with Chucky then?”

Again she didn’t answer.

I felt my heart sink. I needed to have this conversation, but I dreaded it. I knew now where we’d end up, knew it would devastate me to hear it, but I needed to know.

“Terri, Baby, I need...”

A tear ran down her cheek. “Bill, why does this matter? This was ten years ago. After the last couple of months, how can that matter?”

“Because it changes everything.”

“Everything? Everything, Bill? It changes that we love each other? That we have two beautiful children? A wonderful home? A great life?”

“Terri, stop fucking deflecting. I’m not going anywhere. I love you. But I need to know what is going on. I’ve been thinking with my dick, ignoring my doubts. Fuck, even using my anxiety to feed my excitement. I’m not blaming you....”

“It feels like you are.”

“That’s your own guilt.”

“Fuck you, Bill.”

I shrugged. “It’s a simple question, Terri. Were you still fucking Chucky after we met?”

“Fine, Bill, fine. Yes, the answer is yes.”

“How long?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but closed it without saying a word.

Her silence spoke louder than words.

“Terri, do you remember the Sarah McLachlan concert?”

A look of panic crossed her face. “Bill... don’t.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” she replied tonelessly.

“And after. After a night of intimacy, of kissing...you remember leaving me on the sidewalk?”

She nodded.

“You went to him after, didn’t you?”

“Bill, that was so long ago.”

“It was long ago, but now it isn’t.”

“What?”

I was getting angry now. Angry as the feeling of that night returned. Angry as I realized that Terri had been disingenuous with me.

“Christ, Terri, just tell me what happened.”

She sighed. Hesitated. I stayed silent. There was nothing more I could say. It was up to her now whether she wanted to come clean. Then finally she looked at me again. It was a hard, distant look, and it sent a shiver through me.

“Okay, Bill, okay. You win. Yes, I’m a dirty whore. A filthy manipulative cunt. When I met you, I knew you were someone I could fall in love with. I knew I had to play you, reel you in. But I wasn’t willing to give up sex for it. I kept seeing Chucky up until I was sure I had you, sure you were mine if I wanted you.

“And yes,” she continued, “I even saw him that night, after the McLachlan concert. Except it wasn’t a night. It was a weekend.”

I groaned in shock, even though everything she was saying was just confirmation of what I already knew.

She chuckled mordantly as if digging her own grave. “I told him we were through. That I’d met another man. And then we fucked.” Her tone was cold, as if she were trying to shock me, but by now I was feeling sorry for her more than angry. I stayed silent, letting her continue.

“We fucked,” she repeated. “And then we fucked again and again. Friday turned into Saturday. He tried to talk me out of seeing you. He called you a wimp. Said you could never satisfy me. I told him it was over.”

“But you didn’t leave.”