DITW 12-13: By Merit Rais'd (Patreon)

A rising but disgusting thought baked in her oven. It was so dark and delirious her pelvic floor throbbed, and she tightened her sexual core in the most exquisite pulsing, undulating pleasure waves that echoed the deep thrusting she would soon receive. All it took was Devlin’s hand on her breast. It wasn’t the touch; it wasn’t his brutish but well-groomed man-hand on her little titty, it was one-hundred percent that Josh was watching it happen. All the reluctance, all the resolve, all the disdain she’d held for this malevolent man who’d somehow engineered this situation crumbled like an iceberg’s rampart at the unending challenge of the ever-turbulent sea.

The more she thought of it, the quicker and lustier her breath came. Josh watching Devlin fucking Stone’s hand—the big hand of her husband’s high school bully—drove her wild. It took conscious effort to stop from kissing him. She’d said no kissing, but right now, and all of an unexpected sudden, what she most wanted was to suck Devlin’s tongue in front of her husband.

Her pathetic, wormy husband.

That wasn’t even how she felt about Josh at all—how did this spot bubble up from her effervescent spring?

It was that Josh wanted it, but denied it. It was that her loving husband craved something so dark and awful he could never conjure it into existence. All he could have ever done was playfully bat at the idea like a timid, uncoordinated kitten. Pat-pat-pat. Josh wasn’t lion enough to sink his fangs into the idea’s flesh, consume it, make it his own, nourish himself with the forbidden nutrients that made living this awful life so god damned grand.

No, this was her gift to him.

She was the one who brought Josh the things he needed. Made it okay. She was the one who nourished him.

Right now, she craved all Devlin Stone possessed. All he could deliver. She’d been reluctant at first, knowing Josh wanted this—had always wanted it—and wanting it to happen for her husband, but disturbed by the idea of letting Devlin handle her this way again after she’d sworn him off.

His hand stroked over her naked chest, the palm riding over both nipples that thrilled at his touch. Thrilled at the size of his hand, his obvious masculinity.

The cruelty soared her heart. The torment she delivered to her husband lifted a cap off her psyche and her thoughts flitted like fast kingfishers looking for juicy little lake bugs to nip out of the air; fat mosquitoes of humiliation and shame and kink.

Devlin’s stroking hand slowed; the pad of a thumb rolled over her nipple and the effect tightened her anus, lifted her onto her toes, bringing her four-inch heels off the lacquered hotel room floor. He pushed it aside till pain blistered from the harsh treatment. She moaned. When she did, he lifted his hand and swatted her breast, right across her nipple, making her breast bounce and shake. He swatted it again, and she yelped, let her head fall back to rest on the wall. Devlin swatted the other, once, twice, then soothed them, coddling and caressing, his eyes on hers, his smile twisting with dark delight.

She lifted her chin, her eyes lazy and narrow. “Is your cock dripping yet?”

Devlin’s jaw flexed and his eyes narrowed with an insatiable hunger. “You’re so fucking hot. You’re too hot for him.”

She said, “You’re just mad because he’s got me and you’ve got no one.”

Devlin’s smile faded, and he took the back of her neck and yanked her closer. “I get every fucking thing I want,” he said, and closed his mouth on her throat, running his tongue along her exposed neck. Her hands went to his hard shoulders and caressed them.

Devlin guided her face away, his hand closed on the back of her neck. “I got you in this hotel room.” He looked aside toward Josh. “I got him here. Just like I said I would.”

“How embarrassing if you couldn’t get it up.”

Devlin chuckled, knowing she worked him, but he took her hand and guided it between his legs, pushing her hand over his genitals. Her grip closed around the hanging weight of his half-hard shaft. “Tell him what you feel. He wants to hear it.”

She squeezed and handled his huge cock through his pants. “I told you I know what side he dresses on.” Her gaze was slow to move toward Josh, afraid how she might find him. But Josh was riveted. Eyes widened, but still narrowed, his brow lowered, his cheeks hollowed with fright and passion. “I told him that once,” she said to Devlin, facing him again. “And that I know you don’t wear underwear.”

Devlin released her hand, and she abandoned his growing member to put both hands on his chest. In her heels, he wasn’t much taller than her and she was able to kiss his mouth with ease. It took Devlin by surprise—but he was quick to adapt, his hands sweeping her bare back, pulling her closer, chuckling in his throat with the pure delight of her new cooperation. Devlin did this to please himself; she did it to please Josh.

She pushed her tongue into his mouth and he groaned, his muscles tightening, holding her tighter. Her mouth rolled on his as she moved her head around, pushing her tongue deeper into his mouth.

Connected with a passionate and vulgar kiss, Devlin’s hands closed on her waist and lifted her. She hooked her legs over his hips, hoping Josh would witness how familiar they were together. Josh would delight himself with the worst thoughts he could imagine. They were the truth. They were the truth, and with the confirmation playing out before him, she would earn penitence.

Devlin turned and walked with her riding his hips, still kissing, coming to the foot of the bed, leaning forward and resting her on her back, her legs still clinging. Their kiss disconnected. As much as she disliked Devlin Stone, she didn’t hate lying on his bed and watching him above her with his shirt off, his muscles enlivened, the veins standing out. He dropped over her, hands on either side of her body, hair coming out of its gelled shape to let strands dance over his forehead. He rested one palm on her tummy, right above the waist of her pants, rode her torso from navel to sternum to throat. Admiring her. Assessing her. Desiring her. They’d been so good together once, before he’d crossed her.

Devlin gripped her shoulder and turned her roughly so she was face down on the bed, looking over her shoulder with venom at this treatment. His hand went up the middle of her back and took hold of the back of her neck, squeezing and thumbing. Then he was gathering her hands together, crossing her wrists at the small of her back. She rested her chin point on the bedding, bringing her feet up and crossing them at the ankle. Behind her, Devlin told Josh to come into the bedroom. “The view’s not so good from there.”

Silky fabric crossed her wrists, and she tried to recoil; Devlin grabbed her arms and brought them back.

She said, “What are you doing?”

Devlin said, “Sometimes she likes to be tied.”

She rolled her head to the right to see Josh sitting himself in a seat above her, at the head of the bed and in the corner of the room, right by a matching window looking out on the street below. Devlin looped the tie around her wrists and closed a loose knot. She watched Josh, neither of them smiling, only regarding each other.

Devlin’s fingers hooked into the back of her pants and he guided her up to her knees and chin. She flicked her head to sweep her untied hair over to one side so Josh could see her better. She regarded him again, unsmiling. Devlin’s hands went around to her front, gathering at her tummy, working out the clasp on the waistband. He unzipped her pants and hauled them back and down, baring her panty-clad bottom, pushing the pants to gather at her knees planted in the bedding. He snuffled low male sounds as he kissed the small of her back, fingers tugging at the waistband of her satin underwear, his thumb pressing against her sex, mashing and rolling the padded crotch against her pussy; the pleasure and her own personal measure of humiliation heated her in new ways. Maybe Josh would scrounge empathy, gather compassion, if he saw his wife so abused.

She regarded him again, this time looking more sultry than before. Josh’s attention was unalloyed perfection; this was the fieriest incitement he would ever experience in his life, and he was soaking all of it in, recording it with his trembling vision.

Devlin peeled the panties back, exposing the bared top-flesh of her buttocks, dragging the panties downward over the curve of her bent-over ass, exposing her anus—but stopping there, a half inch before stripping her pussy to the room’s light. Her heart rate increased in the heartbeat of time where Devlin stopped disrobing her, waiting to see what he would do next. Wondering what horror Josh would now witness.

A warm slithering tongue point danced from her tailbone down between her cheeks, widening to a paddle that melted against her anus. A disgusting, shameful display.

She groaned and tossed her hair, her features pinching in honest revulsion, knowing her husband would see Devlin doing a terrible thing to her. Her heart ached for him; it hurt for the awful things that Josh couldn’t escape. They were things that he craved like oxygen.

She rested her forehead on the bed, hiding her face away, moaning, “Oh, god, oh, he’s eating my ass, Josh, oh, god, oh...”

Devlin’s tongue slithered north again. He grumbled, “I missed your perfume.”

She kicked her feet and flexed her thighs, a growing molten orb swirling between her hip bones, a raw need building, gargantuan need for Devlin’s massive size to spread her wide and touch her so deep inside.

Devlin lapped his tongue over her anus again, touching, teasing, driving her wild, getting her panting. It was hard to breathe in this awkward position, hard to monitor her husband’s delight and shame. And Devlin Stone eating her ass while her husband watched—and she was tied and helpless—was squeezing something wicked out from her damp washcloth of a pussy. Her sex juices were teeming; she could feel the heat, the wet, the prickly tickle in her swelling creases.

Devlin’s tongue narrowed again and pressed into her sphincter, seeking hot interior real estate. She squealed, unable to prevent the embarrassing sound, losing control she thought she had over the situation (and the men in her life).

She babbled more sounds of soft feminine disbelief at what this brutish man did in front of her husband, and of the obvious pleasure the act riled in her. Devlin worked his tongue in and out, teasing, driving, dancing over such a private place. The panties slid lower, Devlin working them down as he fucked her ass with his tongue, pushing the panties to join her pants bundled at her knees. The conditioned air of the room brightened all the places she was wet; her pussy was sopping, wandering traces of overflowing juice lit up in trails down the insides of her knees.

Devlin said, “Fucking look at this pussy. She has a such a great one. I fucking missed it.”

She slid her cheek on the bedding to regard Josh. Josh scowled and whimpered, bringing his knees together in a sexual, existential struggle she loved to see.