DITW 12-19: Pale, Ire, Envie and Despair (Patreon)

Devlin’s noose tightened further, and Josh could barely breathe or swallow. Yes, Kimmy was a squirter. She began reacting to sex that way shortly after she began working at Stone Brokerage LLC. The barb was sharp and rusty and lashed him with precision. Watching Devlin’s massive endowment balls deep inside his wife, his wife on the verge of an orgasm right in front of her husband. This was what he’d missed. What he witnessed right now was what had happened all those times behind his back. He could picture it like some sort of hot-blooded tryst, some slick blue movie with good lighting, but here it was in reality: bright daylight, no camera tricks, no shadows to let the imagination fill in the details. This was high definition reality, a gross display of biological reaction, like a doctor’s permission to sit in on a surgery from the operating theater. Kimmy had a spot she liked touched, and Devlin showed her where to find it with the head of his cock. Up deep inside her where her husband couldn’t ever find it. You needed the right body position; you needed the right angle; you needed a pillow under her back. You needed a big manly cock, long and thick, and with a plum-sized fist at the end.

He could tell Devlin he knew Kimmy squirted—had witnessed it himself through his own meager provocation—but how would that sound to Kimmy now? Kimmy knew when this particular extreme bodily response had begun, when her ability had been unlocked, and knew it as well as Josh. His response would sound lame and empty, defiant to Devlin, but watery to his wife. His fucking wife, who’d learned to squirt through another man’s deep and skillful harpooning.

His purpose here today had been to swipe power from Devlin. To show Devlin what Devlin thought was power over Josh Waters was imaginary. But it wasn’t imaginary. He’d fooled himself. It was real. It was palpable. This display was worse than he could have conjured in his own mind.

And yet the arousal remained.

It remained because, while destructive and debasing, the act he watched was erotic. Taboo. Forbidden. Earned through grift and bold betrayal. But now Kimmy showed him why. If he’d ever wondered why Kimmy would do this to him, this display should explain it all. Kimmy quivered and moaned and gasped. Her head rocked, her hands beat on the bedding, clutched her hair, grabbed at Devlin’s thighs. And she was in command. All Devlin provided was his big cock and some hip-grinding, and Kimmy did the work needed to get off. She shimmied her hips, rolled them, humped against the intrusion. A sheen had risen on her skin, an overall silky frost of pre-orgasmic sweat. The sounds she mewled and cried were incredible; they were music. He would never forget them. He couldn’t even if they tried. They were like a siren’s wail to a helpless sailor; a sailor who knew the song would bring him ruin but was gulled, nevertheless. Maybe those sailors craved their ruin. Because he craved his own ruin right now. He listened with intent, watched her sins with fervor. Kimmy only showed him what he’d requested.

So he sat still in stiff and silent composure, dying, living, all at once, crumbling and forging a stony armor to resist the worst of Devlin’s brutal cudgeling.

But this was the challenge. This was why he’d come. To face his fears. To stand tall in the face of superior might. A Davy to a Goliath, using wit and guile to forge a makeshift courage, a shoddy boat to sail a stormy sea. But he wouldn’t abandon his tiny ship. He wouldn’t scream, yell, or throw a single lamp. He wouldn’t spit in their faces. He would take it. He would take it like it was nothing. His interior—the roasting meat inside the armor—may rot and leak out the seams, but with any strength he could muster, he would show them no response. He would never show Devlin the Josh Devlin wanted to see.

Now Devlin cupped his hands on Kimmy’s knees, drawing them down to grip her ankles, then guiding them up so the soles of her feet rested on his hips. It exposed her further to his penetration. Kimmy responded. She loved the way the new angle allowed Devlin greater access. It changed the pitch of her cries. They were already bright, ecstatic chirps, but now they became long, keening notes full of breath and desperation. Devlin held her feet, pushed on them till Kimmy’s knees went up to her chest. This had Kimmy slapping her hands down on the bed and gripping the cover. Devlin began thrusting; staccato bursts of hip-driving that shook the bed and warbled Kimmy’s cries.

Devlin said, “Come closer, Josh. Come up on the bed. Use your fingers and play with her clit. We’ll make her crazy today.”

But Josh stayed where he was, turned to stone by his Medusa wife. He could only watch as Devlin jack-hammered his hips into Kimmy, her thighs shaking with each quick salvo, her toes curling and flexing, her keening note becoming constrained as she tightened her whole body against what Josh knew was coming. Her hands left the bedding and gathered at her neck, her fingers scratching at her collarbone, head pushing back into the pillow, her chin pointing up to the ceiling. Her lips pulled back in a fangy snarl and the cords stood out on her neck. She cursed and gasped now, saying the F word, then letting Devlin know she was going to come.

Devlin growled, “Yeah, you’re going to come. You know you’re going to come. I can feel your guts gripping the head of my cock. Come for me. Show Josh how you come.”

Her hands thrashed from her neck to land fists on the bedding, and then she hollered out a sound of dreadful release. Her whole body seized and her feet pointed like a ballet dancer, her knees touching together over her chest. She rocked and bowed her back, her body twitching, her mouth opened and closed. There was a moment of creaky sound in her throat, and then she bucked and wailed and gasped, her hands covering her face. She was coming.

A pattering squirt tinkled up Devlin’s stomach. Steady pulses. A second of spray, a pause, a second more, over and over as she came on Devlin’s huge cock.

Josh closed his eyes and breathed. Listening to the sounds of his wife after her powerful orgasm. She panted heavily through her mouth, closing her mouth and snorting through her nose. Not catching her breath. He opened his eyes again to see Devlin rubbing her knees, lowering her legs so they draped over his thighs again. Kimmy had gone powerless under Devlin’s fucking. Her hands returned to her face, uncoordinated, taking three attempts to get both thumbs under the tie around her eyes before lifting it up from her brow. She didn’t open her eyes, but her lashes fluttered. She still panted, heaving for breath, pausing to swallow, then panting harder for a moment. She removed his tie from her head and threw it down beside her on the bed, her eyes now struggling to open. When she opened them, she threw a forearm over them right away to protect them from the bright of the day.

And the shame of her actions.

Things must appear much different when your eyes were open.

#

The whooshing sound of the ocean’s waves roared in her ears with the timing of her racing pulse; the in and out of heavy waves on a sandy shore.

Now Josh had seen. He’d wanted to know, and now he knew. There was no shame, though she knew there should be. There had been at one time. At one time she’d battled the shame a lot. But this time, she’d done it for Josh. That was a show just for her husband. An eroticized performance.

As her breath returned, she managed a few breathy chuckles of disbelief. Yes, it had been a show, but Devlin’s sexual prowess was no illusion. The orgasm was real. The effect on her was real. Devlin had left her exhausted with just that brief escapade, heart hammering.

She uncovered her eyes again, her arms at her side, blinking against the brightness. In this light, Josh would have missed nothing. No detail spared.

Devlin rolled his hips and the movement of his cock inside her got her jumping and squawking. Post orgasm, his cock sent silvery thrills through her that were too much to bear. “Careful, careful,” she said to him, resting her hands on her ribs. Devlin eased his cock out of her, knowing how sensitive she could be right after coming; pulled it right out with a slick squelch and dropped its weight on her stomach with a wet slap. She moaned and pushed her pussy against his balls, wanting Josh to get a good look at how deep inside her his bully’s cock reached. It turned Josh on. No matter how much he fought it, this aroused her husband.

“Oh, god,” she sighed, rolling her eyes up to the room’s high ceiling. “Oh fuck, that’s good.”

Devlin said, “You feel better?” Phrasing it to Josh in a way that sounded like Josh’s wife needed something her husband couldn’t provide. Which was true...

She’d always hated Devlin’s taunts about Josh. But didn’t hate it when she did it herself. Like she didn’t trust Devlin with such a powerful instrument. Wielded the wrong way it could provoke lasting injury. And in the end, now that it was all out in the open and there was nowhere left to hide, she hated the realization that she was no better. In fact, she was worse. She’d tricked herself into thinking Josh wanted it and that gave her license, and then somewhere in this Homeric odyssey, she’d sexualized Josh’s torment. Had assumed the role of chief tormentor. And it had turned her on.

So she smoothed a hand over Devlin’s cock, struggling to grip its width, lifting it and letting it drop again on the flat of her tummy. It looked gnarly and sexual, the way it shone, the way it looked so otherworldly. He was massive. Harder than she’d ever remembered him. The veins rose out against the skin, that crook showed a sharper curve; the flared lip of his cock was swollen and rubbery. She played with it while Josh watched.

At last she regarded Josh, seated bedside, liking how she would appear to him, come-hazy, eyes half-lidded, holding her lover’s big, sexy cock. No one could ever gift Josh something so delicious. She bit her lower lip, looking in Josh’s eyes, trying to read him but finding him unreadable. She told him with her eyes that she was still horny and her lover was still hard and she wanted Josh to watch more. And more.

Fuck, she liked being seen this way.

With three fingers on the broad head of Devlin’s cock, she pressed it into her tummy, swirling it against her navel, wowed as Josh must be that this enormous thing fit inside her body. Devlin drew it back and gripped it, teased her pussy with it, placing it back into her aperture and easing it inside. She groaned and closed her eyes, parting her lips, wondering what most would drive Josh wild after he’d just witnessed the most wicked she could be.

There was more wicked, but she wouldn’t do that. Not that anymore. Especially not now.

And Devlin would want it. Devlin would demand it.

She moved fingers over her bursting clit, her own touch putting sparks in her vision. She said, “Don’t come inside me.”

Devlin chuckled, sawing his cock in and out in easy depths, saying now, “What do you say, Josh?”

Josh spoke, voice cracked and broken. “Whatever she wants.”

Josh was disengaged, lost. She looked at him, frowning, scrutinizing him. She shook her head no. She carried Josh’s baby. Devlin’s semen was no longer welcome.

But what if it wasn’t Josh’s?

She gasped and drew in a long, hissing breath through closed teeth. The wickedest thought of them all.