DITW 13-4: Coincidentia Oppositorum (Patreon)

Amy’s dark specter had loomed large in this endeavor, and she’d known not to trust her, and hadn’t let her too close, but hearing Amy’s name right now in this room, naked and vulnerable with her husband, and with Devlin, naked and erect and confident, zapped her like a taser. She jumped at the sound of Amy’s name.

And then raged. Raged of course at the prospect Amy could be involved in any of this more than she’d expected, but raving with a fiery wrath with the hot-poker prompt that Amy had talked to Josh behind her back. There were no rules in this unscrupulous game, but Amy taunting Josh was too corrupt. So corrupt she chastised herself for not anticipating it.

Devlin chuckled and showed off an index of amused expressions, taking a step back and sitting in the chair Josh had been sitting in, dropping into it, heavy, like he was exhausted, his big cock wagging stiff and straight. And upright. So aroused by this bedevilment, by this display of total debauchery and perversity, it was still like a board.

She could see the whole thing now, played out behind her back by those two high school tormentors, Devlin and Amy; laying around and watching Cruel Intentions and scheming their own farce of aristocratic French parlor games of power; of manipulation and of sex, all done in frigid white Canadian suburbs. The idle hands of the bourgeoisie machinate the wickedest games.

She stilled herself, then said, “Amy did what?”

Josh gestured a hand toward Devlin, like presenting him as the devil they both knew. “He knows what I’m talking about. Look at him. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Devlin shrugged and feigned a look of incomprehension. She had spent so much time with Devlin that she read through that weak deception immediately. He practically told the truth with the smirk on his face. She struggled to find the right words to say as a surprise cataclysm of betrayal crashed around her. Amy.

A stark feeling of betrayal chilled her; she was in the cold, the others doing things behind her back, without her knowledge, altering her husband’s perception. After all the wrongs she had committed behind Josh’s back, it was astonishing that she could experience such a reciprocal emotion.

“Amy texted you,” she finally said, but Josh ignored her, keeping his gaze fixed on Devlin.

“It was her,” Josh said. “She was the one texting me.”

Devlin appeared amused, sneering and biting his lower lip, still presenting the facade that he didn’t know what Josh was talking about. He entertained them with his antics of his enormous cock, which now lifted and dropped, over and over like it was doing it on its own.

“It wasn’t just you,” Josh said. “It was Amy, too. Amy texted me, and—”

Kimmy interrupted him. “What did she tell you?”

This time when Josh looked at her, it frightened her. His eyes were alive with a baleful laser-beam focus. His awful gaze set upon her the mantle of responsibility. This was all her doing. Yes, it was Devlin, and yes, it was Amy, but it was her. She shook her head no.

He said, “They’re fucking with me. They’re fucking with you.”

“No one’s fucking with anybody, Josh.”

“He sent me pictures of you. That’s not fucking with me?”

She looked at Devlin, then back to Josh.

Josh continued, “And I went to his apartment like a lost puppy dog looking for an owner, someone who would have the kindness to tell him the truth. All I wanted to know was if it was real, that’s all.”

Devlin grunted, then said, “Then why did you show up wearing those sexy panties? I think you wanted a lot more than a picture.”

Josh looked over at Devlin and her eyes followed as well, both of them wondering how he would see humor in the moment. But Devlin was entertained by his own cock, watching it go up and down, looking bigger than ever, shining, glimmering, a cardinal flesh-obelisk, a singular symbol of the sacred dark and sexual; the wicked-man’s lure that had suckered them both, got them into his fishing basket where he could do what he wanted with them, lay them out in the sunshine and run his dirty blade up their defenseless bellies and bring out their squittering guts.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. It was her. She was the one who was in control. She was the one who’d always sought to preserve Josh. Sought to make him whole, to satisfy him. Sought to protect him.

She stared now at Josh’s profile and felt sympathy and regret. A yawning chasm of regret. There had been so many opportunities to steer away from this final conclusion, but she’d somehow entertained herself into thinking it was the only way out. Even today, out of the blue, Josh presenting sudden salvation to her, she’d thought it was a gift sent from heaven. A way out of this devil’s trap.

She said, “Amy told you to wear my underwear?”

Josh took a moment, still staring at Devlin, looking at Devlin’s dick moving all on its own, looking at the man’s face, then turning to her again. Some of the hatred had dissipated, but she still detected it. It still wounded her.

“She did. And when I showed up...” He shook his head like he didn’t want to continue.

She could only imagine what they’d done to him. The hoops they had made him jump through. All of it done behind her back. Amy, Josh, Devlin, moving their pieces around where she couldn’t see them. She bit her own lips to prevent a string of admonishments and accusations that would come easily off her tongue, and would erupt into a fiery tirade. She couldn’t. Not now. There was still so much more going on—too much to bask in a satisfying eruption.

All she could come up with was a simple bromide directed at Devlin: “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Devlin dropped a hand to cup his scrotum and handle his balls, his face turned up but his eyes looking down at his erect member dancing between his legs, flexing and going through a range of directions like a gear shift. He said, “I don’t even know . . . what you’re talking about.”Distracted, disinterested, preoccupied. He was still biting his lower lip, and the second before it began, she realized what was happening.

Devlin grunted and squeezed his balls. His stomach muscles flexed like shifting tectonic plates.

He cursed now, a string of half-assembled thoughts that shot blame at her and Josh, hissing and grunting, muttering, ruined it, all that build up, mm, fucking crazy.

And then, he was ejaculating. Shooting his voluminous load in front of a husband and wife whom he’d entangled in a poisonous web. And they watched. Husband and wife bore witness to this depraved man’s celebration. An autonomous reaction occurring between his legs; a man so aroused by his own devilry, so aroused by the suffering of his prey, that his body could not hold back the physical manifestation of his depraved sexual predation. She watched Devlin come, and she’d seen it before, but she worried for Josh. Josh should not have to see this despicable scene. Knowing Josh, he would be wounded by Devlin’s propulsion, wounded by Devlin’s magnificent display that arced two feet in the air, over and over, splats of pearly excitement falling like celebratory confetti. Devlin grunted and flexed, and more and more ropes spat as his cock nodded up and down, sending the semen in arcs. His head rocked back, then jutted forward, veins standing out in his neck and in his arms and shoulders. His chest reddened and his face reddened, and his cock bulged and flexed.

The way Josh watched made her want to cover his eyes.

They were both silent witnesses to Devlin’s return to consciousness after his vulgar display of incredible sexual power. He panted, brushed a hand through his hair, his sweaty muscle rippling in a lubricious sheen that aroused her still, despite the horror the man had created.

As he caught his breath, he still spoke, his voice spent, chuckling, saying, “Hoo, no hands, huh. You see that? Fucking incredible.”

Josh looked her way, waxen and lost, trying to cast blame on her, showing her his hurt face. Like it was she who’d brought him here and not the other way around. Josh covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes turning down.

“Ruined orgasm. But, wow, I can’t believe you guys did that. To me.”

She felt sickened by Devlin’s vulgarity, by his sole, selfish enjoyment of this cruel moment.

Josh stood up, clutching his pants, and it looked like he struggled to swallow. He went around the foot of the bed and headed to the bathroom. Devlin said, “Can you get me a towel, Josh?” Josh closed himself in the bathroom.

Devlin smiled at her. “He’s going to jerk off.” He admired his own muscular stomach, tracing a finger around the spattered pearly display.

In the bathroom, they heard the sound of the toilet seat lifted and hitting the tank. Then a hollow sound of unproductive retching. Josh was trying to throw up. And she hated that Josh had seen that. Hated that he’d been privy to Devlin’s sexuality, knowing it was something his wife had already shared behind his back. And had lied to him about it again and again. The whole idea of the sin as penitence evaporated like water sprinkled on a hot pan. They sat in relative silence, her in tortured guilt, Devlin catching his breath. Sitting naked and unashamed, like a spoiled kid with his mistreated toys scattered around him.

When she couldn’t take the silence anymore, she stood as well, slipping off the bed, Devlin’s eyes on her right away.

He said, “Don’t go to him. You’re not his mother.”

She said, “I’m getting my clothes.”

“Can someone just grab me a towel, please,” Devlin said, not to her, but to the room, like a man who thinks the world is out to get him.

Kimmy tacked down her clothing, put on her pants and zipped them up.

Devlin said, “What, this is over now?” She ignored him. He said, “You need a man, Kimmy. You can’t go on with him.”

She laughed, averting her eyes from the disgusting big dick, big muscle spectacle on the chair with the sunshine lighting him up. She shoved an arm into her shirt, going braless. “He’s my husband,” she said, her tone dry with realism. “What are you suggesting, you want to replace him? You want to marry me?”

“No. It was great the way it was—”

She dropped her arms, fists hitting her thighs. “Then why did you wreck it? Why do you think you know better than anyone else?” In the bathroom, the toilet flushed. She shook her head, buttoned her shirt. “I told you never to mess with him and you couldn’t help yourself. I’ve never seen you harder than today. Josh turns you on more than I do. Why don’t you have an affair with him?”

Devlin smiled to one side, concern on his face, but still no shame. No regret. “It’s not like that. Your dude’s into this, Kimmy.”

“Amy tell you that? She’s a psycho. You know that. You said it.”

Devlin leaned forward, his cock dropping between his legs and hanging down, going to one side to lean on his calf. “What about everything else we have together, Kimmy? What about Stone—”

The bathroom door clicked then opened and Josh came out, his face drawn and pale, hands in his pockets.

Devlin regarded him, turning up his palms, then reminding Josh: “Hey, Josh—towel?”

Josh drew his hand from his pocket, raised it toward Devlin, pulled back the hammer and fired.