DITW 12-14: Le Baiser (Patreon)
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Kimmy’s voice sang in Josh’s ears though she spoke no words. This is for you.
He could picture her mushed lips shaping those words, and thus combining them together as man and wife in this moment where she sought the penitence he’d offered.
Only there was something stark and destructive in witnessing the act. The sin was the penitence, and yet now that he witnessed it with his own eyes, there was something sinister in the revelatory theater playing out on the bed before him.
He couldn’t trick himself into reasonable denial this hadn’t happened before. While Kimmy played the role as subjective sexual object, Devlin played it with his devilish flair; announcing each act in a manner of familiarity in case Josh couldn’t see it with his own fucking eyes.
He’d known it all along. He’d been unseeing and dumbstruck. All for what? All to see what he watched right now. Kimmy was wretched. But he was worse. This was his command all along. Wasn’t it?
His wife was chin down ass up on a Yorkville luxury bed with the midday light coming through the windows and painting her in pale and natural shades with little shadow. Her pants and panties were around her knees and Devlin had bathed her ass with his tongue. Now he admired Kimmy’s pussy.
Though he couldn’t see it from where he sat, he knew what Devlin would see. Knew what it looked like from Devlin’s vantage; a tight, brown wiggly thing of great beauty. Compacted folds, generous when aroused but not extravagant. Devlin touched it with his fingers, and Kimmy’s brows raised and her cheek stroked the bedding. Devlin would see her hot pink interior, brightened with her wet.
The power of what he’d set into motion began to weigh on him with mighty force. It was too much to bear; too much to witness. But he was glued to the chair and hungry for more.. Much more.
Devlin knee-walked backward off the bed, standing at the foot, grabbing Kimmy’s ankles above her expensive shoes and below the hem of her dress pants, pulling her feet toward him and returning her to lay face down, hands still gathered at the small of her back. He guided her to roll over. Her chest showed the blush of arousal; her nipples were bloated rubbery buds, full-fleshed blossoms of her desire for a man like Devlin Stone. With her hands behind her, her back bowed and thrust her meager bosom toward her secret lover, aroused by the scenario and the foreknowledge of the pleasure he would provide. Her chin touched her chest, her eyes only on Devlin as he stood proud and muscled, undoing his fly, the silk braces swinging against his thighs. He withdrew his heavy weapon and presented it, letting it dangle in front of them all. It was bloated but not yet erect, a truly grotesque implement, but one that would enthrall most women—and Kimmy. The head of his cock was enormous, a monstrous dropsical plum leaking the seminal lubrication that would provide easier passage inside Kimmy’s tight interior. And from where he sat, now with Kimmy on her back, he could see her scratchy pelt sparkling with her copious dew; his wife’s interior preparing as well, greasing itself for maximum allowed pleasure. Devlin’s perverted tongue up Kimmy’s perverted ass had her sexual motor primed and fuel-rich, running warm with the choke ready to clear.
Seeing them lubed up with sexual impulses and immutable lust removed any notion this scene would play out in another way. In short time he would watch his hated nemesis put his big cock inside his wife and make her howl and cry and orgasm all over the bed. His internal pressure—down low, down where his own sex apparatus spewed sympathetic juices—boiled hot. His cap could pop at any second. He wanted that. He hated how bad he wanted it.
But with each heartbeat stoicism proved harder and harder. His bolts were shaking loose; his hands trembled on the chair’s arm rests; his neck was stiff and creaky and tightened; his heart raced, his vision warbled. His thoughts seemed light and ethereal, like they were made nothing in this room where fantasies were made real.
Devlin reached for Kimmy, brought her up sitting before his growing trunk, then putting out his hand toward Josh, not looking, but saying, “Take your tie off.”
“My tie?”
Devlin waggled his fingers. “I want your tie.”
Kimmy’s head lolled above Devlin’s large hand, eyes dazed by lust, hypnotized by the pendulous swinging of his enormous beefy induction.
Josh bit his lower lip, sitting higher, his thighs squeezing together to pressure his own exquisite arousal, loosening the knot on his tie and withdrawing it from his collar. Devlin was aware of the action, waggling his fingers while never removing his gaze from Kimmy’s. Josh heaved forward, knees touching, and passed Devlin his tie. The one Kimmy had bought him for a night of humiliation at his bully’s hand. Had she sent him into the lion’s den? Had she known Devlin would plant evidence of their illicit union? He’d been played every step of the way since the night at Tiffany’s cottage party.
Devlin looped the tie around a hand and held Kimmy’s face. He took his cock by the base and brought it up to her cheek, batting it, his cock shaking with its boneless heft. His cock against her cheek made a bright sticky tap. No other man would dare treat her this way.
Though that wasn’t true. If he asked her, she would allow her husband this treat. It was just him who couldn’t provide; his human-sized penis wouldn’t have the same effect. They would both laugh and bust up (back when things were good, and none of this darkness enfolded them). With Devlin, Kimmy fell under a spell. Devlin’s masculine prowess and mighty implement did things to his otherwise well-regulated partner.
Kimmy turned her head from side to side, lazy, as if avoiding the meaty batting, but also opening her mouth, expecting Devlin to put that overripe plum into it so she could suck it. Soon, her tongue appeared, curving over her bottom lip, pale pink on the smearing red of her lipstick. Devlin plopped her tongue, once, twice, three times, then at last, he let her pull it past her lips and into her mouth.
How many times had Kimmy sucked Devlin’s cock? How many times had she come home to him, kissing him with the same mouth that pleasured this villain? His hands cupped him mouth and nose, and he breathed into them, facing the reality that Devlin had come in his wife’s mouth at some point. Cruel Kimmy may have kissed her husband with Devlin’s semen still swimming in her hot oral pockets. The pure, unbridled shame and humiliation of it aroused him to astounding levels; almost to the point of unexpected bliss. For a brief second, he could see the beautiful perfection of his plan.
It vanished in vulgarity: Devlin’s spit-slick cock now running on her cheek and leaving a trail. Josh turned up his nose and looked away for a moment.
The sounds of their movement returned his gaze.
Kimmy’s head rolled on her long, swan-like neck as Devlin used the tie Josh wore today to circle her brow and lower into place over her eyes. Devlin tied it at the back, stroked her shoulders, then guided her to lay back again, pushing her higher up the bed. Kimmy lay with her aroused nipples pointing to the ceiling, her arms behind her back, her pants down to her ankles now. Almost entirely naked.
Devlin smiled as he unbuckled the tiny straps at the heels of those black patent shoes, one and two, slipped them off her feet. The pants and underwear were also stripped away, kimmy now completely naked, hair undone, wearing only two men’s ties to bind her and blind her.
Devlin planted the soles of her long, tawny feet against his chest, stroking her legs from ankle to calf, admiring her naked form. Kimmy trembled with excitement. Josh could see it; could see the way Devlin’s touch rose the hair on her arms and turned the skin to goosebumps.
With both her thin ankles gathered in his grip, he raised Kimmy’s feet to his mouth and kissed the soles. Kimmy’s toes curled and she enjoyed the sensual feel of Devlin’s lips. She writhed on the bed.
Devlin put one ankle on either side of his neck, Kimmy’s legs up on his shoulders, his face twisted to one side so he could kiss the inside of the leg while he unbuttoned the pants and pushed them down, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of them, his cock beating his own muscular thighs.
Then naked Devlin was kissing his way down the inside of Kimmy’s legs. Kissing one, then the other, nibbling her thigh flesh, biting the inside of her skinny knees. And Kimmy loved it; closed off from the horror in which she engaged, laying back and loving sex like how she’d been getting it behind his back; freed of all the burden of guilt and betrayal, open to body pleasure. And he’d like to think, separated from Devlin Stone. Maybe she was honest when she’d said she hated him. She was done with him. Maybe Devlin betrayed her.
A hopeful glimmer appeared on his dread gray horizon. A hope maybe she hated Devlin for some harsh words against her husband. She did love him, though no one would ever believe it, watching in the room at this cosmic moment.
But it was a crazy thing to think, seeing her now, bowing her back, gasping with lust as Devlin’s kisses approached her most sensitive flesh. Kissing the area around her pussy, kissing her inner thighs up high. She raised her knees, drawing her feet across the black and white bedding, letting er legs flop wide like wings, the knees coming down to touch the mattress like she would in a hot yoga class. It exposed with no obstruction her pretty pink flower.
Was this how Devlin got the photo of her pussy. Had Devlin eaten her out in some warehouse in some port somewhere, taking his wife on a pallet of fertilizer?
He could picture it: Devlin seducing her, incrementally bringing her into the tangles of his web, and one day she surrenders to the desire, kissing becoming oral sex, Devlin feasting between her legs. Sure, Devlin would show her he wasn’t a brute who only wanted to fuck her, he was offering her a world of extramarital pleasure, a smorgasbord of erotic delights.
A sudden jolt of precum gushed out of him and he squirmed in the seat, his stomach fluttering, his head going light.
Devlin kissed higher, his tongue scratching through Kimmy’s patch, long hairs sticking to his pink tongue. Kimmy panted; her head lolled. Devlin kissed higher, up the taut plain of her belly, up to her sternum. Rising, kneeing over her open legs to straddle her waist.
He said, “Turn and face Josh,” waiting for her to comply. Kimmy’s head rolled his way, her eyes aimed his way but shielded from him by the silk tie he’d put on this morning. Devlin handled her chin, making sure she cocked her head at the right angle. Then he thumbed her lower lip. “Open that mouth, Kimmy. Let me see that little tongue.”
Kimmy knew what he wanted, and she opened her mouth wide, her tongue sweeping across her lower lip, trembling in anticipation.
Devlin gripped the base of his cock again, the other hand out for support on the bed as he lowered his hips, saying, “I’m going to fuck that beautiful face so Josh can watch.”
Kimmy squeaked an affirmative sound in her throat, nodding, and Devlin pushed that cock head into it, both hands on the mattress now, his cock stiff enough he could hump his hips and stroke his cock in and out of Kimmy’s stretched lips, poking out her cheek, rolling her head around. And Kimmy worked her mouth, sucked and swirled her tongue until spit streaked her mouth and chin, and Devlin kept fucking her mouth, Josh positive he was about to see her throat bathed in a gallon of seed.