The Center of a Solemn Cloud (Patreon)

Josh followed her from the bathroom into the bedroom. That seductive talk of revenge had muted him. His expression was dumbfounded, his eyes empty; trust lurked, and Josh wanted to trust what she said was true.

At the foot of the bed, she paused, using the clean white towel she wore over her shoulders to scrub water from her hair. Then she tossed away the towel, turned and sat naked on their bed. Josh kept his distance, a half dozen feet away, one hand holding closed the towel around his waist. Water dropped from a curled lock over his forehead in a steady rhythm. Those lost eyes of his were timid on her; his brow troubled. He would want what she said to be the truth, but he couldn’t help but be afraid. He still feared Devlin Stone. Anxious mechanisms were beating contrary thoughts back and forth behind those eyes like Olympic ping-pong. Yes! Destroy him! But how? What if you fail? What if you destroy him? What would Devlin do in return? Maybe we should just keep our heads down. Then again...

She encouraged Josh closer. The closer he got, the more she raised her chin, and soon he stood tall above her and she showed him a wan smile. There was so much she needed to tell him. Much he needed to know. But the first thing she should take care of humped out the front of his towel.

Her arms circled his waist, and she embraced his hips, hugging her cheek against the hardness underneath the towel. Fingers tucking under the soft terry material, she sat back again, running the fingers around to break loose the towel, freeing the fold-over hitch beneath Josh’s hand. The towel came free and fell to the bedroom floor. She pressed her lips to Josh’s pubic pad, kissing his flesh, his cock hard and upright at her cheek. Her hands smoothed over his skin; his hips, his waist. Soon, Josh’s hands moved, cupping the sides of her head overtop her damp and shower-stringy hair. Josh succumbed. Neither of them were innocent, each of them guilty of their own crimes. But she was a betrayer, and Josh would never betray her. What she had done to their marriage couldn’t be explained. She’d tried to frame the madness that had consumed her since the spring; some of the details pre-considered, some of it spun on the fly.

The kisses increased in suction and wetness and made their inexorable journey to the central structure of Josh’s psyche. His instrument of perpetual masculinity; the physical representation of his manhood that someone had conditioned him to believe was inadequate. And she’d reinforced that belief, sleeping with the man who’d prompted it in the first place, pursuing the man, fetishizing his huge penis. Finding out that while her husband was adequate her own unique biology responded to monstrous phallic intrusion. Wickedness and libertine primal lust painted wonderful colors in her mind. The fat end of Devlin’s long cock touched a wild place inside her that prickled heat and passion and the wettest pleasure. . . . But Josh was her partner. Josh was her husband. He was the boy she’d fallen in love with. The man she betrayed. There was no betrayal without a union; they were united. Had been at the start. In love and ready for a family. The betrayal had value. The betrayal shone a light on what she’d had. She’d been more than careless with Josh’s love. She had been destructive. Sometimes, in the aftermath of chaos, a new life would grow.

Josh’s sack tightened when her kisses found it. His body weight shifted; his hips inched forward. When she looked up she saw something lively in his eyes; desire had assumed control at last.

No more could she assume the lead role in Josh’s travels through depravity. No sense in it anymore; no need. There was no more to conceal. At least not as far as her activities with Devlin were concerned. Devlin whispered their secrets in her husband’s ear behind her back. And for what? To gain control of her? No. Not likely. To be the boss. A role he couldn’t fulfill. A role he only imagined suited him. Devlin existed in a comfortable fold of immaturity, protected by privilege and his daddy’s money. Devlin betrayed her for fun. Devlin betrayed her because he’d convinced himself he knew all the angles, a master of 4D chess. She kissed the belly of Josh’s cock, her lips pushing it back to his stomach. Devlin would pay for hurting Josh.

Her tongue swathed upward until the point of Josh’s erection speared her mouth. She sucked him, putting her hands on his hips and bobbing her head. Doing it slow and seductive, letting him know this was only the foreplay. Her hands kneaded his balls, his sack shrunken, his cock twitching with delight in her mouth. His hands gripped her head and his hips urged his cock in and out of her sucking mouth. Then she was pushing back, looking up at him, eyes brimming with apology, wanting him to climb on top of her and get his satisfaction. Get everything he deserved; whatever it was he needed. Their union was the only thing that mattered. There was nothing if they weren’t together.

Being bad to Josh aroused her. His weaknesses lured her closer to him, wanting him to display his fears. There was dominant action and reward for terrorizing someone you loved; playing pranks, hiding behind doors, or jumping out of closets, sharing the fun. And yet, displaying your power over another at the same time.

With her eyes on his, she elbow-walked rearward, shimmying her hips, working herself up to the pillows. To lay in their marital bed together. To do marital things together. Josh’s eyes drifted from hers to watch her body writhe. The lust rose in him. His cock bobbed with his heartbeat, arrow-straight, glistening with her saliva. He loved her body. Had always loved it. Even when she hadn’t used it to control him. Even when she was a timid mouse working in immigration, wanting to do the right thing, wanting to help others.

Josh followed on his knees, trudging in her trail, mesmerized. At the pillows, she lay her head back, wanting him to take her. She parted her legs. Josh looked between them. She could read misery in the lust now. Josh remembering what Devlin had done to her today. She covered her pussy with her hands, breaking the spell. They’d showered. They’d cleaned. The hotel in Yorkville was an hour away. They were home in their bed. What she’d done with Devlin Stone faded with each minute into a dream.

Josh’s eyes met hers again, and she stayed steady until he was with her, knees between her legs, lowering over top of her. Her hands went to his neck and pulled his kiss close, her mouth sealing on his, her tongue parting his lips. Then she was caressing him; his back, his sides, and doing it with love.

Josh pierced her. His iron rod sliding into her seam. She grunted and exhaled, closing her legs on him. Devlin had fucked her, and his cock was huge. Josh had fucked her ass. She was sensitive, but receptive. But her unconscious response to his entry reminded Josh she’d been used. It would be all he could think of. She didn’t want that, but she wouldn’t stop it. Wouldn’t veer him away from those thoughts. She didn’t have to anymore. She didn’t have to hide from him that she was fucking Devlin Stone. She didn’t have to pretend Josh’s kink aroused her. She didn’t have to twist the erotic knife in her husband with dirty spoken fantasies, get him up on his toes and surrendering to her will, closing his eyes to the truth. There was no more make-believe. Josh’s fantasies were real and he could do with them whatever he wanted. He could deny they were his, pretend Amy whispered a magic curse in his ears, but she would never buy that. And deep down Josh had to face it as well. No one could conjure behavior you abhorred. Josh liked it. She liked that Josh liked it. She liked doing the things that made him squirm.

The room was quiet. No words spoken. Just late-day married sex in their bedroom, the wet squish-squish of Josh’s penis inside her, gentle breaths coming quicker, the silky sounds of their joined flesh, the rustle of the bedding. Josh looked down between them while he fucked her and she rubbed his back and drew nail-diagrams on his skin. He’d seen her take mighty girth today. His narrower dick went in and out with ease. These would be his thoughts. He’d seen his high school bully’s massive cock push out her tummy in a fat node between her hips. Josh’s arousal was her arousal.

She began to pant, playing in her mind what she would look like this afternoon gored by Devlin’s beefy dick. Josh had watched her getting pounded and degraded and coming like crazy on Devlin’s manhood. With her eyes closed tight, she played out the scene from Josh’s viewpoint, seeing her own long legs wrapped around Devlin’s hips, his powerful thighs flexing, those thick arms holding her in place. And then Devlin’s long dick rubbing on her deepest pleasure spot, making her sing, making her come. Making her squirt all over Devlin’s muscular front.

Josh squirmed, his hips rolling against hers, inoffensive, careful. He spoke his fear: “Are you thinking of him?”

“Yes,” she said, then, more accurate. “No, thinking of you watching me.”

He groaned, held his cock deep inside her. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it, Josh. I really loved it.”

Then Josh was gasping and trembling, stilling himself, his cock speared inside her and flexing, filling her up with his own seed. She kissed his ear and bit his earlobe while he came, drawing out the pleasure, wanting to whisper vile things into his thoughts, but too wary of making a mistake, stepping on a landmine. She bit her lips and stared at the ceiling, her mind alive with all the terrible things she could say to him right now, things that would drive him wilder than he’d ever imagined.

Josh’s orgasm went on for a long time, his cock twitching, his wetness flooding, his breaths coming in shaky snorts. At last, he grunted and heaved, collapsing on her, ashamed of his performance. Wishing he was Devlin. Wishing he could do the things to her Devlin Stone did. He tried to withdraw, but she cinched her thighs on him, closed her arms around his neck. “Stay inside me,” she whispered. “I want to feel you go soft. I just want to feel you with me.”

Josh rolled his head on her collar, his breath hot and wet against her neck, panting, trying to recover from his orgasm. She held him as his erection faded and his semen went cold and slipped down between her cheeks. It was a long and tender moment, and she loved the strength it delivered her heart.

When the moment passed at last she loosened her hold and played with his hair. His soft penis slipped out of her. She whispered, “We’re free now.” Devlin Stone could hold them no more. He couldn’t play them against each other. Devlin only ever saw the steps right in front of him and wanted everyone to marvel at that mediocre feat.

She held Josh’s head and put her forehead against his, hoping he could feel some kind of restoration in his heart, hoping he would feel their union, want from her all she could deliver.

She kissed the tip of his nose, still holding his cheeks, Josh lifting, their gazes meeting. She smiled, saying, hushed and reverent, “Josh, I’m pregnant again.”