DITW 13-3: The Balance of Arcane Arithmetic (Patreon)

The disparity was shocking and brutal, and she hadn’t expected such shame to shine so brightly in her eyes, especially with the grotesqueness of the display. Two cocks, belly to belly, both hard and aroused just for her. These were the endowments of the men she shared her sex with. Two different men with two different sets of needs, two different sets of provision. Unequal in physique and unequal in psyche. Two life forms with masculine instruction, two growing trees that extended canopies to soak up the nutrients, whose shapes and doctrines were formed by the pressures around them.

Devlin’s cock was a monster that dwarfed the thing that Josh had. Almost twice as long, but it was the girth, the heft, that delivered the most lurid of thrills—seeing her husband humiliated by what her secret lover had fucked her with, over and over, and again and again. That disgusting, meaty thing that hung between Devlin’s legs had delivered her indescribable pleasure over the summer and into the fall. And Josh attributed its size and power to her infidelity; that his wife’s wickedness was borne on the mighty zeppelin Devlin Stone fucked women with.

And right now, her lover’s big cock seeped more excitement from his deep urethra. Devlin loved male dominance—but if he thought Josh drew the domination to himself, Devlin couldn’t recognize his own excitement. His own canopy growing to and fro and seeking to claim from thin air the things it needed to survive. Devlin needed Josh, and she’d been the bait. A strange disappointment bothered her. She hadn’t expected to ever feel let down by Devlin. Not emotionally. But why would she ever have wanted him for more than the job and the cock? There had never been anything significant between them.

Devlin loomed over Josh the way he sometimes loomed over her. She would lay prostrate on a bed, and Devlin would assume his masculine pose over top of her, displaying his might, his muscle, his overbearing cock size. Dominant. It made Devlin hard as steel to prove himself better. It was pathetic; Josh had never in his life claimed to be anything more than who he was. He was no offence to Devlin Stone. If Devlin sought dominance, why pick on the meek? But then again, he’d used her as bait. Maybe she’d seemed meek, too.

The sight of Devlin’s lubricant dripping on Josh’s cock skin, rivulets streaming her husband’s shaft, drove an erotic spike into her. Josh lay with unamused expression, blank as a mannequin, under Devlin, and Devlin shifted his hips to slide his big slippery cock all over Josh’s much smaller one. Seeing the two cocks together was driving her wild; gears turned low in her engine and worked to squash the grapefruit of her sex like a juicer. She could feel the renewed trickle of her arousal.

She inserted herself into the hot spectacle, sitting on the bed beside Josh, getting close to both men, almost face to ear with Devlin, who looked down on Josh, like a homoerotic tiger. “It’s so hot to see your cocks together,” she said, seeking their attention. She slipped a hand between their bodies and ran finger pads over both their slippery shafts, making sure they each got equal time. “He’s so big, Josh. Look how much bigger he is than you.”

Josh said nothing, but couldn’t hide his arousal. His cock twitched and flexed, and he produced a stream of pre-cum. Both men’s cocks shone like they’d been dipped balls deep in a jar of oil. To see two straight men endure such strange closeness, and to have their cocks rubbing together this way, got her heart racing. She stretched her grip to hold both shafts together and tried to stroke them. Both men’s breaths deepened.

Devlin grumbled, low and lusty, “Kimmy loves my cock, Josh.”

She flicked a thumb over his plump, slick cock head, then down to tease Josh’s. Josh’s eyes stayed on Devlin, talking to her, though, saying, “You know he told me to wear your panties today.”

Her teasing thumb slowed, and she regarded Josh. “I’m not surprised,” she said. “ Why would you ever talk to him in the first place?”

Devlin sniggered. “I’m right here.”

“I don’t care if you hear us talk,” she said. “We talk about you a lot.”

“I’m sure you do,” Devlin said. “I heard you two through the window in Cayman. I thought for sure we’d end up in bed like this that night.”

Kimmy ignored Devlin, trying to stay connected with Josh. “Remember when you had them in the car? Outside Hyun’s?”

Devlin said, “The panties?”

“Yeah.”

Devlin sniggered again. “Was he wearing them?”

Kimmy scoffed, exhausted by the juvenile taunts. “He doesn’t wear my panties, Devlin.”

“Oh, yes, he does,” Devlin said, smiling at Josh who still showed no expression. “He wore them to my apartment.”

She removed her hands from their joined penises, and stared at Devlin’s profile. This handsome, brutish thug who spoke the language of the bourgeois but was more comfortable in the guttural tones of knuckle dragging troglodytes. How had she ever permitted such a snake to slither beyond her doorway? “The night he found them?”

Devlin said, “The night he came to see your picture.”

#

It was better out in the open, anyways. What shame was left? He’d been played and teased and tormented and humiliated until shame meant nothing. He could roll shame around on his tongue like a word that’s lost its meaning. Shame? Is this shame? What was shame anymore?

Devlin planked over him, him with his pants down, Devlin naked. His wife was just toying with their two members, breathless over the wonderful size disparity. She was naked. He’d watched her have sex with the enemy.

Kimmy now had shrunk to the head of the bed, looking small and thin, but her face stern, her eyes narrowed into black lines. He’d say they were closed but for the flinty light reflecting under her lashes. She said, “What picture?”

She’d asked it before but could never have figured the truth from the careless overheard taunts.

Devlin said, “What was the picture, Josh? How would you describe it?”

“Get off me,” he said, plain and simple.

“Come on,” Devlin said, “we’re both about ready to pop. I think Kimmy wants to see my massive load coat your whole little dick.”

Kimmy said, “Get off him for a second.”

Devlin sneered and licked his lower lip, retreating from over top of Josh, slipping to the side to lean next to Kimmy, one elbow down on the bed, his massive round shoulder up to touch his ear.

Kimmy’s eyes were on him now. “What picture, Josh?” He’d known her a long time, and though she sounded calm and looked inscrutable, there was a tightness to her tone, a fumble in her pronouncement.

He sighed and sat bedside, got to his feet so he could pull his pants up. The craziest thing was that in all this drama, all this torment, the bullying, the revelations, he was so hard and upright he couldn’t do up his fly. He sat back down in his expensive pants, his erection sticking up out of the fly. “What kind of picture do you think it was, Kimmy?”

Kimmy looked aside to Devlin and Devlin showed the scolded puppy look, unbothered that his summer lover had caught him being a bad boy. And yet, he thought he read more in that look; that it was the expected act of the roguish alpha male, but he didn’t want Kimmy’s scorn, nonetheless.

Devlin rolled his head on his muscular shoulder, whispered to her, “I told you that you were taking too long with this. Josh was ready for so much more.”

Kimmy said, “What did you do?”

“He sent me a picture.”

With a new edge to her tone, Kimmy said, slow and measured, “I understand that, Josh, but what was the picture?”

Devlin said, “It was a nice one. Classy.”

Kimmy stared at Devlin, fully inscrutable once more.

Josh let her off the hook. “Your face wasn’t in it, Kimmy.”

Now she steadied her gaze his way. “What was in it, Josh? What was in the picture?”

He took his time answering, glad Devlin didn’t interject. “You with your legs open. That was the picture. Your skirt up, your legs open. Your pussy, Kimmy. You let him take the picture. Were there so many pictures you don’t remember which one it could be?”

Devlin pondered to himself. “I’m not even sure it was you, actually, Kimmy. Could have been anybody.”

Kimmy stayed focussed, eyes blazing black and alive. “You sent my husband a picture?”

Devlin looked at Josh. “I know he got a picture. I’m sure of that. Because he started begging me for more and more.”

Kimmy said to Josh, “You did?”

Devlin said, “How could he not? Whoever was in that picture, she had the prettiest pussy anyone’s ever seen.”

Kimmy stroked her cheeks in slow drags with one long-fingered hand, lost in deep concentration, her eyes now faraway and not laser-beamed on either of them.

Josh said, “It was you, Kimmy. It wasn’t anyone else. It was you and you were on some kind of bags or something, like in a—”

Devlin interrupted. “He didn’t get the pussy part of the picture. I’m not sending that in a text. I’m not stupid.”

Kimmy’s eyes roamed Devlin, from his glossy hair, out of place from hot sex, down his muscular body to his huge cock, still rock hard and ready.

Josh said, “That’s why I went to his apartment. To see this picture. See if it was really you.”

“Kimmy, he was invested. He would have done anything to see it. You underestimate what a player your husband is. He’s into this.”

Kimmy shook her head, eyes distant again. “Why would you do any of this?”

Devlin shrugged his shoulder, head bobbing along with it, saying, “Shine a light on the truth, help you both find the right balance. Sometimes that takes temptation. You know, put things right, let Josh know it was okay to step back, let him know it was okay for you to step forward. Your relationship doesn’t have the right balance. Anyone could see it.”

Kimmy showed no expression at first, then her pretty features tightened into incomprehension. She looked at Josh again. “And he told you to wear my panties?”

Devlin smiled, eagerly waiting to hear Josh admit it.

“Amy told me to,” Josh said. “Amy was the one who texted me, she was the one who told me to wear your panties.”