DITW 13-11: Divine Displeasure (Patreon)

He said, “You’re proud you turned me to violence?”

Kimmy licked her lower lip, and he watched her shining pink tongue retract, the motion such a sultry thing he imagined what he’d done turned her on in some way. She said, “A display of displeasure, Josh. An instruction from one man to another. One you could never show before because of the retribution, your fear of what he would do for revenge.”

Those words chilled him, and his arms and fingers prickled with a swift-encroaching dread. What he’d done wouldn’t pass unnoticed. He’d hit Devlin with a chair. Hit him in the head; marred his face. High school rules dictated an imposed punishment. Devlin couldn’t let that action go without reprisal. There was no way. Josh had humiliated Devlin in front of his girlfriend. His mind raced like it would in high school; hyper vigilance commanded his nervous system now and his breaths quickened, thinking of when it might happen, picturing Devlin and Rumble and some other familiar antagonists waiting for him outside his apartment right now, rubbing wet dog shit on his door handles as a mere appetizer for their savage feast. Angry young males ten times more a man than he was, eager to strip his weak flesh from brittle bone.

And with his cock plugged into his beautiful wife’s ass, it was like she’d read his mind, quarter-turning to the opposite side now, seeking his eyes for a connection and saying, “You were the man today, Josh. He was the boy. Don’t you see it? Devlin plays immature games, boys’ games. We’re adults, we’re playing adult games.”

“I don’t want to play any games anymore.”

She said, “You were the man today. You told me what you wanted. You knew what it was. You wanted me to save myself. You wanted us to be together.”

His head whipped to the side, trying to avoid her silky words, trying to avoid the polished truth she tried to poison him with.

“When it didn’t go how you wanted, you let Devlin know.”

He growled and fucked into her ass hard. She squeaked a sound of minimal discomfort. He said, “You humiliated me.”

And Kimmy said, “Don’t you want that? If you don’t, just tell me you don’t.”

“Of course I don’t want that. Why would I want that?”

“I don’t know how it works, Josh. But when you tell me what you want, I’ll make it happen. I’ll do anything for you.”

He bared his teeth and hid his face in her wet mane, psyche twisting with shame. He’d asked her to fuck Devlin today and if she did, he’d let her go from punishment, absolve her sins.

Had he ruined it? Just like she claimed Devlin had ruined it? Devlin had lured him away from his union with Kimmy, whispered provocative things in his ear and encouraged him away from the one who would keep him safe. He’d joined sides with the enemy, and allowed their enemy to turn his campaign against Kimmy like a weapon. Maybe, at one time, he would have to admit he really did want this to happen. But instead of working with Kimmy, he let Devlin show Kimmy’s lies to him in the most terrible light, and he ended up in a hotel room asking for the very thing she would have delivered him anyway—on her own time and in her own terms and for his benefit. He’d been Devlin’s unwitting pawn today.

Devlin had used him against Kimmy. Taken away his wife’s control of a game in which she sought not only his preservation, but his satisfaction as well.

But it wasn’t so simple, it wasn’t so clear to see, more like a murky shape in a fog, or lying in the grass and looking at clouds, making up images you could see inside them.

He said, “Why would you lead me along? Why wouldn’t you just tell me what you were doing? Why wouldn’t you be honest with me?”

“You know why.”

“Because you’re a liar.”

“Yes, because I’m a liar. I wanted to get away with it. I wanted to get away with what I’d done, and still make you happy.”

The answer irritated him. Bothered him. Frustrated him. He withdrew his cock from her and retreated, disgusted with her lies and her betrayal all over again. “You’re still lying,” he said, grabbing his face, rubbing his brow, hiding his eyes from the sight of her naked body. His cock still throbbed and ached to be returned to her tight scabbard. “Lying and dignifying the awful thing you did. You fucking cheated on me with Devlin Stone. You fucked him at Tiffany’s.” His hands snapped to his sides in fists. He was a half second from thumping the inset soap dish, wanting destruction, wanting his wife to know this wasn’t something she could smooth. The warps and bumps her actions had pushed into the smooth plain of their marriage could never be hidden. They would always stand out. “And for what? For a fuck with Devlin? You don’t even like him.”

“I don’t know why, Josh. I don’t know. But I hate what I did, I—”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said, reeling in disbelief, an insane tidal wave of hilarity rising up, his wife clinging to the flimsiest life preserver and committed to convincing the storming, endless sea nothing would drown her.

Her chin dipped, and she went silent, standing naked, nipples hard, water cascading around her head like a halo, rivulets streaming the curves and angles of her lean body. She lifted a hand to cup the spray and deflect it, run it down her breasts; not to entice him, but to keep the spray from his eyes. She said, “It was a mistake. I made a huge mistake and I’m telling you I don’t know why. I don’t know why I did it.”

“I failed you. You don’t love me. What is it?”

“You never failed me, Josh. And I love you. I love you more now than ever.”

Sharp retorts sizzled on his tongue, but he kept his mouth shut. She looked up now and there was something new in her black eyes he couldn’t recognize. And if it was something he thought he didn’t recognize, there was a chance it was honesty.

She dropped the hand and retrieved the soap from the dish he’d wanted to smash. She rubbed it between her leg hands, eyes now aside, her expression pensive. She lathered, then ran hands on her chest and arms and underarms. He watched the suds collect on her aroused nipples. She said, “I was a wreck. You know that.”

He didn’t have to speculate or ask for clarification. This spring had seen the end of all their fresh hopes of starting a family. He let her talk, still watching her hands soap herself, getting between her thighs now.

“We were so close. We had it. You know what I mean. We were right there. And then the next thing I knew, we had nothing. I didn’t want to go back to work. I made baskets in the house so I wouldn’t have to step outside. I didn’t want anyone to look at me, see me, talk to me. But I kept fighting. I made baskets because doing nothing would kill me.” Her hands stilled on either side of her taut navel, her eyes staring like they were seeing something bigger than anything in the shower with them. “Fighting with Devlin made me feel something. I betrayed you and maybe I told myself that was okay.”

“Okay how?”

Her eyes widened and right away he knew whatever it was she had in her mind, it was gargantuan and he wouldn’t want to hear it. It might be worse than her cheating with Devlin. She exhaled through her mouth, her lips stuck and puffing out. Then she sucked her lower lip, held it clamped under her teeth, stopping herself from speaking.

He said, “I failed you. I’m not a man. Just like Devlin said.”

Her expression was an honest portrayal of correction; he’d got it wrong, and she didn’t want him thinking that. He said, “What then? What is it?”

“I failed you.”

“Hey,” he said, taking her shoulders. “No, you didn’t. I don’t think that at all.”

“I know you don’t. But I did fail you. So, like, if I cheated it would be because I was mad at you, punishing you. Because you failed me.”

His hands slipped down her slippery arms and fell to his side. She touched his arms.

She acknowledged what he must be thinking. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I don’t understand, Kimmy.”

“I know. I wanted to be mad at someone else so I could stop being mad at myself. I was the ultimate failure. All I wanted was to have your baby and live a life in a house, and...”

He sighed, and looked around, his rage deflated in the face of a tender and uncomfortable admission.

She said, “And then we’re at tiffany’s and this guy I dislike, who Amy taunted me with and leveraged against me, he’s arguing with me and my heart is pounding. Not with like affection or any kind of attraction, but it’s pumping. I hate this guy. I hate what he represents, I hate who he is. Fuck, Josh, I hate what he has. He doesn’t deserve it. He’s cocky, he’s arrogant, he looks down on people who are so much better than him. And he can get away with it. His dad owns a shipping company. He works there, he’s an executive, and he has no brain. And then he’s saying the most arrogant shit, and we start . . . I told you what happened.”

Cruelty crystallized in his mind’s eye; he could reject her paltry exegis, belittle her assuaging the ultimate weaponized betrayal. But he watched her, his new savvy assessing her body language and eyes for the lie. No more untruths would spin from those sultry lips that could convince him.

She was still lost in her confession and the way she spoke made him think she was realizing some of these things for the very first time. She said, “That Mercedes he shows up in. We’re in our sensible vehicle, showing the planet kindness. . . . We deserve the gifts. Not him.”

Her brow lowered, and her lips slimmed in a mask of real envy.

Then she shook her head, wriggled free from the clutches of her dark reverie, and looked at him. It was like she’d come out of hypnosis. Her eyes had changed.

She grabbed the bar of soap again and worked a new lather between her palms.

He said, “I don’t forgive you.”

Her hands stilled. “I don’t want forgiveness. You asked me why, and that’s the closest thing to it.”

“You weren’t going to run off with him, leave in that Mercedes you love? Weren’t going to move into his luxury apartment?”

Her hands resumed the lathering, then she returned to soap to the dish. She cupped his balls and gripped his shaft. He was still hard as steel, and the slipperiness on the end of his cock had his knees dipping and his vision whitening for a brief flash. But she wasn’t ignoring him or changing the subject. She said, “I want to wreck him, Josh. I want to ruin his life.”