DITW 10-20: Darkness (Patreon)

Josh’s lips met hers, and her husband’s renewed strength conjured excitement. Gone was the timidity, the hollow, fragile man, whose eyes roamed dull and unseeing. His grip on her neck was strong, his kiss direct, his cock hard. Hard without any performance from her. Josh didn’t need dirty encouragement. He’d come home from a casual night out with his cousin, already thinking of his wife and the things he wanted to do to her.

Josh prowled over her on all fours, clawing the bedding while she kicked with her feet and knees, both of them working together to remove the cotton barrier separating them. His knees straddled her hips as she sat up, Josh rearing, his kiss leaving her mouth for the first time and already missed, his hands raking down her back and pulling up the oversized t-shirt she slept in. Her hips rocked to free the shirt hem trapped under her bum, and his bare cock poked her in the cheek, then scored along by her ear. She kissed Josh above his pubic tuft as he worked the shirt over the back of her head.

But she had no patience. Moving her mouth to the point of his erection, Josh’s cock head parting her lips, her jaw relaxing, her neck lowering her mouth until she engulfed almost his entire length. Josh exhaled a long, satisfied sound, like his Kimmy sucking his cock was the thing he’d needed most in the world at this moment, and he hadn’t anticipated it.

She circled a thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock, the other three curling around his balls and squeezing them against her palm, remembering the uncomfortable moment earlier in the week when Josh had asked her to hurt him. Tonight she offered no brutal handling, thinking only of giving him pleasure, in the hopes he would be inspired to reciprocate. She missed him.

Josh lost himself in the pleasure she delivered, his hands cupping over both her ears, the t-shirt like a hood tugged over her head. As much as she wanted him to make love to her, if he didn’t stop what she was doing, she would love to suck him until he came into her mouth. With his hard cock in her mouth, she felt forgiven.

Josh stopped her at last. Thrusting his cock deep into her mouth until she gagged. She coughed spit around his shaft, tried swallowing and gulping. If Josh wanted to face fuck her until she retched, she would comply. Anything for his love to return. Anything for Josh not to hate her.

At last, he withdrew, and she coughed and heaved for air, backhanding the wet from her lips. Josh took her face in his hands and guided her to look at him.

“That face,” he said. “That perfect fucking face. You are so crazy beautiful.”

She didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to react to this off-kilter Josh who showed up in their bedroom. She only met his gaze and said nothing, ready to hear whatever he wanted to say, which was, “Scoot back and sit on the pillows.”

Eyes still on his, she complied, putting her hands out behind and shifting backwards until her butt touched the pillows. She was topless, wearing cotton bottoms, her nipples hard and aching.

“Take off your panties.”

She said, “Okay,” and began thumbing them off her hips, still watching his eyes.

As she got them down to her ankles, he said, “Hang them on my cock.”

She struggled to comprehend, expressing befuddlement with a furrowed brow. But complied again, hoping she understood, looping a panty leg hole over his upright cock like it was a hook on the wall. The fabric dangled under his balls, hung on his cock.

“Sit back and open your legs.”

She whispered, “Okay,” again, and leaned her back on the headboard, eyes on Josh, wondering where his head was at, and parting her legs.

“Wider, Kimmy.”

And she did that, too. Parting her legs wider, exposing her pussy in full view to him.

“Like you want me to see it. Like you want me to fuck it.”

She shuddered a small tremor, not expecting such a harsh command from her husband. But turned on just the same and doing what he asked, humping her hips toward him like she needed his cock inside her. Which she did, she really did. “Like this?”

“That’s it. Now get it wet.”

Josh talking to her in this manner was almost offensive. But she would do anything he asked, anything to redeem herself in his perception. Tummy tucked in, hollowed, her hand went between her thighs and over her mound. She watched Josh’s eyes as Josh’s eyes watched her play with herself. She parted her petals, rubbed finger pads, pressed the base of her middle fingers over her hooded clit and rolled back and forth. Soon came a quiet wet clicking sound—proof she’d completed what he asked for. At the sound, Josh gripped his cock and stroked it. His grip included her panties, using the warm cotton fabric to rub his skin.

Fingers parting her labia, exposing her canal to her husband, she whispered, “It’s yours, Josh.”

Josh kept panty-stroking. Then, voice dry and stony, he said, “Is it?”

The chill of his question prickled her skin and tightened her heart. Something had happened. Something had changed. The urge to pretend he hadn’t challenged her on possession of her sex, to instead move on and encourage him further to make love to her, was strong, but not strong enough to stabilize her emotions. She would break down if she spoke a word now. Her eyes swelled, her tongue thickened. The vision of Josh masturbating warbled through teary vision. She squeezed her eyes shut, felt a tear collect in her eyelashes. When she opened her eyes again, she encouraged Josh without using words, tilting back her head, narrowing her eyes and parting her lips. Even through the hurt in her heart, her pussy clicked with increasing excitement.

“Turn around,” he said. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Her hand left from between her legs, and she sat unmoving for a long moment and when nothing changed, she rolled to her side and did what Josh asked her. She got on her knees and her elbows, hugging a pillow under her chin.

Josh’s hands caressed her ass and her waist. His touch wasn’t angry. It was caring and loving, and she wanted to relax, wanted to chase away the notion that something had changed, that the tender rapprochement she’d clawed Josh back to hadn’t been sullied. But dread still gripped her.

When the head of Josh’s cock pressed into her wetness, she sighed his name. A real and honest expression, not a charade, not some sort of act meant to convince him. An honest sound created from their first physical union in weeks. Josh’s penis wasn’t enormous, wasn’t a thick, veiny monster, but it wasn’t plastic or rubber or silicon. It was flesh and blood and real and loving and meant for her. It felt incredible. One hand left the clutch on the pillow and reached back, her finger pads seeking her husband’s thigh, finding it and caressing it as he began to stroke his hardness in and out of her, getting it coated with her lubrication. She wanted to blubber all sorts of testaments of her undying love for him, but knew those would sound false at this moment, even if she meant them. She bit her tongue and focused on the combination of their two bodies and the intimate—though impersonal—connection.

“Such a beautiful back,” Josh said, his hands now moving up from where he held her waist and smoothing over her shoulder blades and up and down her spine. “You are an incredible thing.”

She bit her lower lip and moaned, her hips swing while he fucked her slow and gentle.

“Devlin doesn’t deserve this.”

She stiffened, and ceased her hip swaying. Her heart raced and her mind darted for a reasonable meaning to his statement. And a reasonable response. Moving away from him and lashing out. Isn’t that what an innocent wife would do? Josh didn’t think she was innocent—but he didn’t know how guilty she was.

She said, “No,” with a quiet, noncommittal tone. Neither confirm nor deny. But what was at stake here right now wasn’t winning or losing. It was bigger than that, the stakes amounting to everything in her life that mattered. The urge to lie left her alone on the street corner in a dangerous part of town. She felt scared and helpless and the only thing that could soothe her was submission and devotion.

“But he saw this,” Josh said in a menacing whisper.

She couldn’t say no. Couldn’t bear to construct Josh’s false world any further. Josh wanted the hurt. She wanted the preservation.

“I’m yours,” she said.

Josh said nothing in return, stroking his fingertips along her naked back, fucking her slow and steady. It was dirty talk. Only dirty talk.

“What a sight,” he said to himself. “Devlin saw you like this.”

She whimpered and bit a mouthful of the pillow. She let go of Josh’s thigh and clutched the pillow with both arms.

“He fucked you like I’m fucking you, and you wanted it because he’s rich and handsome and hung.”

She spat out the pillow, playing games of dirty language with him like she would have before he found her panties in Devlin’s couch. “I’m such a slut,” she said, pure porno trash talk, some cutesy bromide used to get a man off.

Josh curled his chest over her back, his cock almost slipping right out of her. He traced the hair from her cheek and ear and whispered, “You’re no slut, Kimmy. You know it and I know it.”

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, trying to distract him from words that were beginning to sound acute and accusing, waggling her bottom against his hips like a needy little slut would.

He held the back of her neck again and thumbed the ridge of her cheekbone. “I thought it was me. I thought I was the dark one.”

“Yeah?”

“But it’s you. It was you the whole time.”

“No,” she said in tiny, soft protest.

“You’re so dark.”

“We’re just playing, Josh,” she reminded him.

“When he fucked you like this, I bet he got so deep inside you.”

She whimpered again, then whispered, “Yes,” hoping if she encouraged filth into his mind, he would orgasm and he would quit this awful dialog.

More serious: “He fucked you deep?”

“Uh-huh,” she squeaked, shutting her eyes tight.

Josh groaned with pain and pleasure, his right hand sweeping underneath her and running over her tummy, his ring finger dipping into the shallow of her navel. Then two fingers pressed on a point above her navel and she imagined Josh picturing how deep Devlin’s huge penis would sink inside her.

She whispered, “So fucking deep,” pushing her hips back against him, moaning with awful pleasure at the feel of her husband’s shallow and insistent penetration. Josh’s manhood was quivering steel now. As hard and inhuman as the thing she’d masturbated with on Devlin’s bed.

Josh grabbed her hips and fucked her fast and hard. She took it, listening to his breath coming faster and faster, getting shaky and hoarse, hammering his hips into her bottom with a rapid-fire beat.

“Deep, Josh,” she said, “oh, he fucked me so deep, baby,” her voice jouncing with her husband’s hungry thrusting. And it sent Josh over, her husband grunting, growling, whimpering as if in pain, but orgasming huge, his cock flexing inside her as he filled her insides with his seed. The enormous wet turned her on like crazy and now she was whispering things for her own sake. “Oh, that’s it, oh, come inside me, Josh, come inside me, don’t pull out.”

Josh collapsed on her back, a quivering, trembling weight. He rolled away like he didn’t want to crush her, panting for breath. She rolled her head from the pillow and Josh was quick to grab her cheeks and kiss her, like he wanted to reconcile after the terrible things he’d said. And the terrible things she’d said.

It was only the heat of the moment. It was only Josh’s dirty passions. She grabbed his face, too, kissed him harder in return, scooting close so their naked bodies would connect as much skin as they could. His seed seeped from her, rolling through her seams and down one thigh.

Josh eased away, covered his mouth with one hand, looking like a man witnessing a horror, and she stayed with him, closing an arm over his neck and kissing his forehead. She held him that way for long, loving minutes. Both their breaths reduced to normal and their fast-beating hearts slowed enough the room seemed quiet and still again around them. She hugged his head and kissed his hair.

When at last he angled his face so their eyes met, she said, “Was that dirty talk?”

Josh looked away. “You tell me.”

Her heart sank, and she held his head tighter. Josh didn’t retreat. He enjoyed her embrace.

Eyes across the room, she said, “Did you go to Meyer’s tonight?”

His head shifted, and he sighed, reaching down to grab a corner of the bedding and cover their upper bodies. He said, “Do you think I would lie to you?”

She let his head go and returned to her pillow and they looked at each other, both of them on their sides, naked, with a flimsy delta of covering over their torsos. Their eyes darted over one another, white spots glimmering in Josh’s, the reflected moon behind her shining in the apartment window.

He said, “Do you enjoy humiliating me?”

It shocked her and her mouth fell open, her heart wounded. “Josh,” she said, furrowing her brows in sternness, “No.”

He stared and thought. Then: “Did it... Did it turn you on when you did?”

Her mouth worked open and closed and a thousand answers stuck on her tongue. She closed her mouth, her features crumpling, shame blooming larger and larger, too much to bear. The ability to lie and spin golden stories thinned to watery nothing, and she bit her lower lip hard, her breath beginning to shake and turn to snuffles. She closed her eyes and nodded, and Josh put his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close.