Devil In The Waters, almost the end of book 4... (Patreon)

The hot furled membranes that cushioned her tight opening were salty and distinctly copper. She stunk. She smelled sweaty and dirty. Her pussy had been used. Devlin had fucked Kimmy’s pussy with his huge cock. Stale greasy semen smell flooded his nostrils. 

Kimmy gasped, “Put your tongue deep, baby, put your tongue in me . . .”

And he did. Shoved his pointed tongue right inside her, felt her heat, tasted her filth. All of it in his head.

No idea what to look for in a cheating wife’s pussy—but this had to be it. Wasn’t it? The copper taste—tiny broken blood vessels in her membranes after being pounded by a giant cock. The funky taste. More than just sweat. It was sex. Wasn’t it? Semen?—he didn’t know . . . He could smell Kimmy’s sex smell in his nose. And that didn’t happen from laying next to him in bed and crying. And the crying . . .? Crying from regret. She’d cheated on her husband and now her heart was hurting.

He sobbed into her sex, his mouth filled with her pussy. Her pubic hairs scored his palette. His tongue probed and pulsed against her, and Kimmy writhed against him like she never had before from his mouth. Her fists filled with his hair, driving her hips purposely into his mouth. Loving it. Crying out with intense pleasure. Tears squeezed from his squinted eyes and mingled with saliva and her juices. And maybe Devlin’s semen.

He hugged her legs—hooked arms around her thighs and squeezed her legs against his ears. Riding her pumping hips. Crying into her sex.

But she was with him.

She’d cried because she loved him. And the love was real. And, Jesus fucking Christ, she didn’t have sex with Devlin. It was like he wanted her to do it. Wanted it to have happened. Right now his cock throbbed and pulsed between his thighs. She was just late getting home. That’s all. She went to a hotel suite to help Devlin figure logistics with some Chinese garment merchants from Italy.

Or did she?

“Oh God,” he blurted, gasping for air.

Kimmy thrashed. Grabbed his ears and pulled his mouth to her pussy again. “Don’t stop, Josh, don’t stop . . .”

He dove his tongue inside her. He didn’t care if Devlin had fucked her. Her heart was his. He knew it. And he wouldn’t let her go. He would fight for her.

“God, Josh, don’t stop. Oh my God, oh my fucking God, baby, I’m going to come, oh baby, I’m going to come . . .”

Now the thighs pressed to his ears squeezed tighter. Kimmy’s hands were pinched between her thighs and his head, her knuckles digging into his scalp as her thighs vice-locked on his head and he sucked at her sopping coppery flesh. She bucked and trembled and his mouth filled with a sudden tinkling spate. He dug his fingers into the outsides of her thighs and continued to suck and drink from her. She was coming. Really, really, coming. Squirting in his mouth.

He moaned an ecstatic, victorious sound, sucked her harder, her meager labia squirming between his hungry lips, so slick he couldn’t get a grip on them any longer. He tongued her instead. Tongued her deep thinking he didn’t care if Devlin had fucked her tight little pussy tonight he loved her just the same, would always love her.

Kimmy’s ankles locked on his back and she squeezed his head till he couldn’t hear. but traveling through the insides of her body and vibrating in the muscles of her thighs was the distinct wails of his wife’s crying pleasure. He’d given it to her. He’d delivered her to this ecstatic height. He squeezed more tears, happier ones, knowing this was in his head, knowing he would torture himself to death with this doubt if he wasn’t careful. As Kimmy’s leg lock weakened finally, he kissed her slippery labia softly and she cooed, stroked his hair. The flicks of his tongue got her stomach jumping, and she hissed quick intakes like her pussy was sensitive. And that sent off the dread again. The absolute stomach churning fear she’d fucked another man. The lips he kissed right now had stretched tonight around his hated bully’s huge cock. Could probably barely cling to his huge size as he gored in and out of her sacred space with his mighty meat piston, Kimmy wailing like she’d just done.

“Shit, oh,” he gasped, as the wild thought did something more than he expected. He jumped up, scrambled over her body, thumbing his erection down, aiming it for her wet little slit.

Kimmy, alarmed, not knowing what he would do, ran nails on his hips and stomach, saying, “What, Josh, what are you . . .?”

And him getting the head of his cock in her nest, and her closing her legs, not accepting, saying, “Not now, baby, oh, baby, I’m sensitive . . .”

And it didn’t matter anyway, because he was spewing his seed in frosted lines across the tangle of her pubic hair.

“Josh, oh baby,” she whispered, scooting her butt closer to accept his seed splashed on her sex. Her sex devastated by a man with a huge cock, but wanting the soothing balm of her husband’s load as a blessing . . . 

The dark thoughts would destroy him, but Devlin’s black magic had intertwined into his reality, and now for the first time since Tiff’s party he wondered if there was a small chance he’d actually asked Devlin Stone to fuck his wife.

Kimmy’s grip went on him, taking over his pleasure, her hand wrapped on his throbbing manhood and softly stroking the last spurts from him.

“Joshy, baby, oh baby, that was so hot,” she whispered, watching her hand on his cock. His meager cock compared to her boss.

He panted now and his pulse thundered in his temples. “That was crazy,” he gulped. You came so hard . . .”

“So did you,” she laughed and gave his cock a squeeze. 

Then: “Little Josh had an accident.” Two more squeezes on his Little Josh and she kissed his arm, chuckling to herself.

His brow lowered and his breath chugged like he might cry. His feelings had just been smashed on the floor like they were a vase his wife’d held over her head and dashed onto the hardwood. Instead of crying, he chewed his inner cheek, snuffling, and a steady throb renewed between his legs. His softening member pulsed in her grip, returned to glorious iron.

Much smaller than Devlin’s when she held it earlier tonight...

No!—he had to stop, stop, stop . . . 

Without asking, Kimmy stroked again. Gripping him good, going up and down like she knew this was a brand new hard-on that needed release just like the first. He was on his hands and knees over her, Kimmy sitting up awkwardly and jerking him off with his first load cooling on her pussy and stomach.

He hugged her head to his stomach and looked to the ceiling. He said, “It’s not little.”

“What?”

“It’s not little, Kimmy,” he muttered, wrangling his emotions, trying not to betray the hurt he felt.

“It’s not little,” she whispered. “Little as in you’re Big Josh, and it’s junior. It’s not small. It’s not, baby. It’s so big . . .”

“No, Kimmy, don’t . . .” That was a dumb lie. A prostitute’s lie.

“What, Josh, tell me what you want—I’ll do it, I’ll do anything . . .” She pulled her head from his stomach, turned her beautiful face up to regard him and show him an earnest expression. She wanted to know what he wanted. “I’m all ticklish and sensitive now, Josh, I don’t know what you did with your tongue, but that was so crazy . . . I want you to come, okay? I want to make you come again. Want me to suck it?”

He shook his head no. Tucked her head to his belly again, looked away. He muttered: “He was on top of you.”

Voice high and worried: “What?”

“Devlin was on top of you . . .”

“When?”

“At Tiff’s party,” he said. Kimmy’s stroke slowed. He humped his cock through her hand.

Kimmy whispered, “Yeah . . .” She looked up.

“You said he humped you. You said . . .”

When he hesitated, she urged him: “It’s okay . . .”

“You said . . . he humped you and you said . . . he was hard.”

Her mouth tucked to one side and she averted her eyes. She nodded.

“He was hard?”

She whispered, “Yeah. He was hard. I told you . . .”

“You felt him?”

She nodded again, saying, “I’m sorry,” cheeks dimpling, eyebrows tenting—an expression of sorrow.

“You didn’t do it.”

“I know. I’m sorry it happened. It’s not right . . .”

“No. You said . . .”

“Said what?”

He hesitated, not wanting to walk this route with his wife by his side. This was the path he walked alone. But she wanted to hear it. Invited him to tell her. He knew she wanted to hear it, and the look in her eyes . . . “Said you saw it, too.”

Her hand slowed again. She looked down. “Not really.”

“Did you or didn’t you?”

Her stroke resumed, and she looked up, but didn’t meet his eyes. “The shape of it. In his pants.”

Now he nodded. His cock hardened and he could feel its pulse against the grip of Kimmy’s hand. She must feel what this dod to him. He tried to swallow but only gulped. Kimmy stroked still and he rode the ecstasy of her words, while his wife looked up and studied him. She wanted to know more and fuck did he want to tell her, spill his beans all over the place. But his breaths came shaky and the horrifying images he loved to play behind his eyes of his wife seeing Devlin’s cock—the thing he’d feared so long—began to wisp away with her eyes on him. He moaned and thrust his cock into her stroking hand.

“Josh . . .?”

The pressure built behind his balls and the more it built the more he craved to say what he wanted, to hear back from his wife what he feared. 

“What did you . . . what did you think?”

“Think about what?”

“What you saw.”

She cocked her head, looked concerned. “Devlin?”

“Forget it . . .”

“Baby . . . no, tell me . . .”

“Do you ever think about what you saw?”

“What do you mean?”

He looked away, grunted as she stroked him faster and tightened her grip.

She urged: “Tell me, Josh . . .”

“Do you ever . . . think about him that way?”

“No, Josh . . .”

“Tell me—”

“I don’t, baby.”

He changed tack. “You saw his bulge?”

“I know, I’m sorry . . .”

“Was it . . .” Oh God. “Big?”

She ignored him and a swell of shame and regret flooded his mind and he scrunched his face up wishing he could take it back.

Her grip tightened further and she stroked his cock vigorously, getting his hips rocking. He shooed the embarrassment, concentrated on getting his ejaculation over with . . . 

Then, unprompted: “It was really big, baby.”

A tremble shuddered through his body and his exhale quivered. Kimmy’s words drew a silky black blanket over his sexuality and he felt on the verge of losing control.

He was so close, and now he didn’t want to be close—wanted this dark pleasure to go on forever and ever. He gasped, “You never, hah, mm, think about it?”

“No, baby, not . . .”

“Not what?”

“Not really. No, I don’t . . .”

“You saw his big b-bulge . . .? And you never . . . never think about-bout it . . .?”

He hated the words. Hated the awful black thoughts vomiting from his mouth and put into Kimmy’s ears—into his wife’s psyche. But it felt so incredibly good. And it was just a glimmer of the light that shone behind his door. But just letting it peep out at her, letting Kimmy get the tiniest glimpse at what was going on inside him, felt so huge and incredible and joyous. In the back of his mind he knew he would regret it, but with Kimmy’s hand jerking big bright pleasure, the bad was blotted.

She whispered again, “Of course I don’t,” and he looked down between his legs at her pretty hand giving him pleasure. She wanted him to have pleasure. He could have it if he’d let her know. She had long graceful fingers, but what he focused on was her grip. Thumb and first two fingers jerking off the end inches of his regular size dick. Her ring finger and pinky finger extended out in a dainty pose. And he thought of her grip on Devlin. What that would be like. How her grip couldn’t handle that monster. His stomach tightened and squirmed, his cock flexed in her grip.

“Yeah?” She gasped, knowing he was close, “Come on, baby, come on, do it.” She craned her neck, nibbled on his earlobe, her slender body touching his. Embracing him. Loving him. Wanting him to have the pleasure he craved.

Chest tight, he wheezed, “Tell me you do . . .”

“Tell you what—what do you want me to tell you, baby?”

“Tell me you think . . .” He couldn’t even finish.

Now Kimmy gave her strokes a longer trajectory. Still going fast, but dragging his whole shaft. “Come on, Josh,” she said, “one more time for me, I want you to come . . .”

He sucked in his stomach, stuck his dick out as far as it would go. Show her everything he had. Every inch. “Tell me you do,” he grunted again, “th-think about it . . .”

She sighed, bit his ear again, kissed his neck. “I think about it, Josh,” she whispered right in his ear.

He jolted. It was going to happen, and it was going to be huger than he could even anticipate.

“I think about it, Josh, I wonder what it looks like . . .”

“Oh fuck, Kimmy, fuck, fuck, fuck, God,” he cried and he gripped her knee tighter. The pressure was escaping. The release was huge but ominous. “Oh my God . . .”

“I think about it–I think about it all the time . . . how big it is . . .”

Then he was bucking, jumping between her legs, his legs quivering, mind frazzled like it’d tuned to a static station on a shitty old radio. He grabbed her wrist to stop her stroke because the ticklish pleasure was insane. He was coming. Pulsing more semen. And Kimmy cooed happily in his ear, loving that he was coming for her again. She snaked her arms around him and held him as he buckled toward her. Let her cradle him while he still ejaculated weak spurts. The orgasm itself was far more spectacular than the propulsion of his sexual product. His heart pounded, his mind felt ripped wide. And even while he rode Mr. Dirty Toad’s Wild Adventure Ride, he began already to regret making her say that. He wished he could take it all back. So as soon as he could, he pushed away the pleasure of the orgasm, drew in a big breath, pushed himself to sit upright so he wasn’t held in his wife’s arms like a little child. He straightened, chuckled awkwardly, gripped his slick cock.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Sorry for what?” she said and hugged him, kissed his shoulder.

“I don’t know why I said any of that.”

“It’s okay,” she soothed him.

“I didn’t even really want you to say that.”

“It’s okay, believe me, Josh. Everybody’s got things that they don’t understand about themselves.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” he said, rubbed his forehead, grabbed a handful of the hair on top of his head.

“No-no, don’t say that,” she said, kissing one side of his neck, hand palming the other. She was so affectionate and loving. And all he could think was how much she meant to him. A few minutes ago he was a hundred-percent convinced she’d cheated on him. A hundred-percent convinced he could taste another man’s cock and the abuse it had delivered to her tight little pussy. But now it seemed all so stupid. So stupid to think that. She wouldn’t let him go down on her if she cheated. It was ridiculous to consider. And the care and the love he felt being held in her arms . . .? Now all he was left with was the fact that he’d blurted out the stupidest dirty-thrilling thought that hid in the recesses of his mind. And couldn’t be taken back.

He punched his leg. “I can’t believe I said that.”

“Don’t do that, Josh. Don’t. I’ll say that if you want. I don’t care. I don’t, I swear.” Now she hugged his waist, rested her chin in the hollow of his neck. He cupped her cheek, thumbed her cheekbone.

He said, “It just came out of nowhere.” What a lie.

“It’s okay, baby. It didn’t bother me . . .”

“What a bizarre thing to come into my mind.”

“Hey,” she said, straightening up now. She waited for him to turn to face her. She said, “Don’t be ashamed. Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. Remember: we’re going to communicate . . .? If you want me to say something that works for you, I’ll say it. I’d love to say it. I don’t think anything bad about it.”

“Well, I think something bad about it. I fucking hate that guy—why would I want you to say that?”

“The brain’s a messed up place, you know it.”

“It’s the last thing I want to hear.”

“Come here,” she said, rubbing his chest again, hugging him. “Don’t make too much of it. If you want me to say things like that, I’ll say them. Just ask. Okay?”

“I don’t want to do that to you. I don’t want to put that in your head.”

“Put what in my head?”

“Make it sexual. Sexualize him.”

“I know you don’t . . .”

“He . . . he assaulted you, and I got off . . .” He couldn’t finish, looking away and shaking his head.

“He didn’t assault me, and I’m not offended by what you wanted me to say. It’s just between us. If something turns you on, I want to know about it.”

“You don’t think that was weird?”

“Weird, yes, but I know you. And I love you more than anything. I know where shit like that comes from. Okay?” She patted his chest.

“My God,” he said, “that was huge. Really huge.” Now he managed an uncomfortable chuckle. Somehow she’d made him feel better.

“I can’t believe you came twice,” she said, rubbing a circle on his back. “That was so hot.”

“You came hard too,” he said.

“Now you’re embarrassing me.”

“Has that ever happened before?”

“Have I ever come before?” She turned up her nose and raised an eyebrow.

“No, not that. You know, like you . . .”

“What—” she said, “Did something happen?”

“Yeah . . . You . . . Sorry, I thought you knew, but you, like . . .” He whispered: “Squirted.”

“Oh,” she said, looking away then biting on her lower lip like she was embarrassed. “Oh okay.”

“Has it ever happened before?”

“I guess it can happen,” she said, shrugging a shoulder.

He said, “Hey—everything okay with you now?”

She nodded.

“It’s so true that we have to communicate. I thought all these terrible things all night long, and then I shut down.”

“When you shut down, and you say bad things, it breaks my heart. And that—”

“I don’t want you to hurt, Kimmy. I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s not that I hurt that’s bad, it’s that I don’t . . . if I’m hurt, I don’t know how to make things better. All I do is hurt . . .”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“And I never mean to hurt you, either,” she said, embraced him, one sperm-covered hand held out. He kissed her mouth. She made happy sounds while they kissed.

When their mouths parted, she chuckled, said, “I really need to get cleaned up now . . .”