Chapter 2
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“Shit! Shit! Shit!” I wanted to hammer down on the accelerator. To speed. It was past eleven. I should have been home hours ago. There was supposed to be a hot pizza sitting in the passenger’s side seat. I should have been debating what movie to watch. Instead, I was pushing the speed limit, weaving in and out of what little traffic there was, keeping me from getting home to my husband.
“Fucking Ash.” I grit my teeth, turning onto Rhoades Drive. Just a couple more minutes and I’d be home. “Dick has no sense of time.”
But was it really fair to blame Ash for my lapse? It wasn’t his job to keep an eye on the time. He wasn’t the one who needed to get home to a spouse. That was all me. And I’d chosen to ignore the clock. To not even set an alarm to help me remember.
Instead…
9 PM
Ash had his arms wrapped around mine, as if he were trying to get me into a reverse headlock. My back was to him, his hard chest pressed against me as our sweat made the contact slick and sticky. His hips collided over and over with my ass, slap slap slap, thick sounds of skin on skin. Cock driving into me from behind, my leg propped up as he slid in and out of my moist, sore folds.
My pussy was puffy, pink, aching from use, and still it was crying out for more. He held me tightly against him as he continued his relentless pistoning, grunting like a beast. I looked down, seeing his thick member thrusting in and out, my lips squeezing, dragging, gripping onto him and feeling every hard pulsing vein. Fuck… fuck… Ash was a jerk, but he could FUCK!
Tits bouncing, trying to hold in another groan, not wanting to keep giving Ash the satisfaction of making me cum for… what was it… the eighth time (God I’d lost count), I bit the inside of my cheek.
“Fuck!” he panted in my ear. His breath was stale, smelling of mints and beer. “So tight. So fucking tight, D. Squeeze it… yeah, like that. Fucking squeeze my dick.”
I let out a whimper against my better judgement. The feeling of him thrusting so deep, stretching me wider than I’d ever felt before, was just too intense. My body was on fire. And it didn’t matter that it was hurting, because my hypersexuality, my addiction, drove me to keep going. Like I could never be satisfied.
The wet slaps of Ash’s balls filled my addled mind. Clouded by lust and the lingering feeling of my past orgasms and the ones that were oncoming. He was relentless. Already having cum inside me twice. And still he was hard. Honestly, I was starting to think he crushed up Viagra and put it in those protein shakes he was always drinking.
“You like that, D? Hm? You like my fucking cock? Say it!” His mouth was on my neck, licking, sucking.
“I…I love it…fuck…oh fuck. Don’t…. Don’t give me a hickey…asshole.” I groaned, panting and breathing between increasingly harder thrusts, my ass rippling and getting sore from the continual spanking from his hips.
“Asshole? You want me to fuck your asshole? Is that what you’re saying, Daisy girl? Hmmmm?” He laughed, but stopped his sucking along my neck. Thankfully, he hadn’t left anything permanent.
“N…no…fuck…god fuck just…there…right there, Ash, don’t stop. THERE!” I arched as my orgasm punched me in the stomach. Pummeling me into a shaking, melting puddle of a woman.
“Yeah. Fuck yeah, I feel it. Cum on me, Daisy. Oh god fuck I’m gonna cum again!”
I was too far gone, whimpering and gasping. My eyes found the clock on the nightstand. 9:30 PM. The red numbers burned my eyes as they began to water from the never-ending tides of pleasure crashing against me. Ash began shooting his cum, a burning spout of thick seed, straight into me. Splashing and sticking and coating my cervix and the walls of my pussy.
“OHH GOD FUCK YEAH DAISY OH SHIT TAKE MY FUCKING CUM!” Ash pulled me tighter against him, ramming hard. No longer pistoning thrusts, but hard, deep, pounding thrusts into me. Making my whole body shake each time and gasping loudly.
There was no restraining my screams. I hated that he could make me do that. Scream as I came. Scream in pleasure. Beg for him to fuck me.
“Please, oh fucking god, Ash, fuck me!”
My ass was sore. Pussy aching. And all I wanted was more. More. MORE…
NOW
I pulled into our driveway. Barely had the car in park and off before I was out the door and rushing to the house. I brushed my hair back in an attempt to make it look more presentable. The smell of sex was something I couldn’t get rid of, but I’d thrown on some deodorant and sucked on a couple mints, trying to get the smell and taste of Ash’s dick and cum out.
Inside, the lights were off. Everything was quiet. I closed the door quietly and moved through the house, giving a quick look into Conner’s office to see if he was asleep on his couch again. It was empty. The house felt empty.
I moved to the bedroom, my panic growing…
Conner was face down, snoring softly. Still dressed. An empty glass on the nightstand.
A wave of relief washed over me. He was still here. Why did I think he would be gone?
Because Daisy, your husband’s not an idiot. If he doesn’t know you’re having an affair, then he probably suspects something’s going on. You’re not good at keeping secrets, and you haven’t been doing a great job of hiding this.
That nagging voice was infuriating. But it was right.
I walked over and sat down next to Conner, lightly putting a hand on his back, rubbing slow circles around the spot… that damned place along his spine that had caused all the problems.
“…loov…luv ooo Daisy…” Conner mumbled, shifting on the bed.
I bit my lip and leaned in, kissing his cheek. “I love you too.” Getting up, I went to take a shower. This time I put my soiled panties in the hamper instead of stupidly leaving them on the floor. I washed away the sweat and juices and cum. When I was done, I put on a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and slipped into ?bed, cuddling close to the man I loved.
He deserved better. Somehow I would figure this out. Figure out what to do. But for now, I zipped up everything I wanted to say and stored it away for a later date. I pressed myself closely to Conner’s side, whispered another ‘I love you’, then fell asleep, leaving so much unsaid.
…
I swallowed a couple aspirin raw. My head throbbed, my throat burned, and my stomach churned, but I was upright and able to focus well enough. Turning the faucet on, I began scooping out water and slurping it down, and then splashed my face, rubbing at my bloodshot eyes.
I couldn’t really remember the last time I’d gotten hammered like that. One drink had turned into three and then four. Then more. Whatever the final count was, it was too many. I grabbed a towel, dried my face and threw it into the hamper, slowly lumbering from the bathroom back into the bedroom, light peeking through the blinds and casting stripes of gold along my wife’s body.
Daisy lay sleeping, shirt riding up to show just a hint of the underside of her breasts. Pj pants pulled along her hips, revealing her deep V-line. A soft little snore sounded, and she shifted almost sensually, covers slipping off and falling to the floor.
Beautiful. The only blemish was a little pink mark along her neck. I stared at that mark… trying to rationalize it. The sight stirred my blood. Anger? Arousal? Pain? I shut my eyes tight and tried to sort through the emotions and just… couldn’t. Everything was so messed up. Twisted up like the nerves in my spine. Sending all the wrong signals, or none at all.
I needed coffee.
Giving my wife one last look, I turned and went to the kitchen determined to distract myself from how my life was secretly falling apart.
…
The sweet aroma of fresh coffee woke me up. My dream was one of… shadows. Secrets. The fear of an empty house. An emptiness I brought on myself. Muscles aching, I pushed myself up and straightened my shirt.
Conner was making breakfast again. It wasn’t something he’d done often in the past, but it seemed like he was getting up earlier and earlier. Was he not sleeping well? Maybe that’s why he was working himself so hard. Passing out in his office. Getting drunk and falling asleep. That definitely wasn’t like him. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen Conner even get tipsy.
I made a quick trip to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and checking myself to make sure… oh shit! There was a red mark on my neck. It wasn’t a full-blown hickey, thank god, but it was clear enough that it was made by something sucking against me. Frantically searching through my drawers, I found some concealer and carefully covered the mark, making sure it blended in. If Conner noticed the mark, there would be questions. But if he saw me wearing makeup to try to cover up a mark… those questions might be harder.
Satisfied it was covered up, but feeling so guilty any hunger I had was now replaced by a sick feeling, I went to the kitchen. Conner was pulling ?pieces of toast from the toaster, placing them on plates that already had eggs and sausage. Even though I felt nauseated, my stomach still rumbled. Fucking for hours can work up an appetite. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday, and since I’d been in a rush to get home, hunger had just slipped my mind until now.
“Morning.” Conner said, voice slightly flat, tired.
“Morning.” I came forward, wanting to wrap my arms around him, like the other day. Hugging him. Telling him I loved him.
He turned before I could get close, plates in hand. “Here. I’ve gotta get to the office a bit early.” Handing me one of the plates, he went to the table and sat, starting to eat quickly. Cups of coffee were already sitting at our places.
The coldness of his voice… it hurt. “Um… sorry about last night…” I sat across from him, picking up my fork and pushing the eggs around, looking over at him worried. “I just lost track of time and… um, after work, some of us…”
“Did you have a good time?” He asked, cutting me off. There wasn’t any cynicism or sarcasm in his tone. In fact, he sounded genuinely interested. “I’m sure with everything you’re working on, it’s probably exhausting. I’m sure having a few drinks with friends was more appealing than coming home and just being bored.” The laugh he gave was self-deprecating. It sounded cheerful. Nonchalant. But I could feel it in my bones. There was a hollowness there.
“Being home with you isn’t boring.” I put my fork down and reached over, touching his hand as he took hold of his coffee mug. “I wanted to be here. I’m sorry I missed our date. I… I really didn’t mean to. I should have set an alarm.”
I’d meant to. But would I have heard it over my screams? Over the grunts? Skin slapping? The blood rushing, pulsing, pounding in my ears as I came and was filled over and over with cum?
Conner nodded, giving my hand a quick squeeze then taking a slow drink of his coffee. “I understand. You… you needed to go out and relax. Unwind. I…” He cleared his throat and met my eyes. “I understand Daisy.”
He broke our lingering eye contact and continued to eat.
There was something in his words…
I sat back, eating robotically. The food was good, but it tasted bitter to me. The coffee, though it was rich, tasted like sludge. I wanted to cry. I’d put my pleasure over my husband. I couldn’t let that happen again.
Fuck. Again. How horrible am I? I’m not even thinking about stopping…
Conner finished, sipped the last of his coffee and grabbed his messenger bag. Coming around the table, he leaned in and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. God, that felt good. So warm and sweet.
I reached up, hand in his short brown hair gripping gently, and I made the kiss deeper. Our breath mingled. I let my tongue slip along his lips and teeth. “Maybe tonight…” I whispered. “Tonight we can try?”
He pulled back. His face flushed. “I… um…” The uncertainty in his stammer broke my heart.
“Hey…” I stood up and cupped his face in my hands. “No expectations. No disappointment. Let’s just… try.” I shrugged and gave him my sweetest grin. “For me?”
The look in his eyes was lost and worried. Worried about failing? Failing himself? Me?
I wanted to shake him and tell him he could never fail me. None of this was his fault. If anyone was a failure, it was me. I’d failed as a wife. I’d failed at being faithful. But I wasn’t about to abandon my husband. Not to this sort of despair and darkness. Maybe I was a hypocrite… oh, who was I kidding? I was absolutely a hypocrite. But I was going to stay here with him through it all, as long as he’d have me. And if… heaven forbid, if he found out and couldn’t forgive me. Couldn’t stay with me because of it. Then I had no one to blame but myself.
“Okay.” He muttered, looking away. “We can… try.”
I kissed him again, hard and meaningfully. “Good. I’ll be waiting.” I smiled at him and then gently pushed him away. “Go to work. The sooner you get done with your day, the sooner you get home.”
With a nod, he turned and left, the door locking behind him as I stood and watched, hoping that it wasn’t the last time he was walking out the door.
…
I had another headache, and staring at my phone, doom scrolling wasn’t doing me any favors. Tossing my phone, screen down on my desk, I pulled open a drawer and grabbed the ibuprofen, downing four dry and leaned back, putting an arm over my eyes to block out the morning light streaming through my windows.
It was hard to tell if this migraine was from getting drunk last night or from the knowledge that my whole marriage was crumbling. From the outside, things seemed fine… the very fact that Daisy wanted to try to be intimate tonight should have been a good sign. It still churned my stomach, the idea that we might lay in bed and be touching and nothing would happen…
Even sighing hurt my head.
A soft knock made me cringe and forced me to lower my arm to see who was peeking in.
“Mr. Carpenter?” The timid voice was almost soothing. Ella was one of the new junior coders I’d hired last month. She turned out to be a tremendous asset, extremely knowledgeable and capable and full of ideas on how to help with the various projects we were working on. She was on the fast track to be a more senior member on the team. The one ‘flaw’ she had was that she was as shy as a mouse. Afraid to speak up on her own, and even when she did, her voice was timid and you had to strain to hear her.
“Hey Ella. Come on in.” I’d nearly forgotten about our meeting. She wanted to go over the new security procedures we were going to propose for a new client.
Ella slipped in, closing my door softly behind her. Everything the girl did was soft and muted. Even when she was typing, the click-clacking of her keys sounded like it was coming from beneath a thick covering of wool. As silent as a ghost, the petite woman padded across the room. She wore a simple black pencil skirt that went just to mid-thigh, maybe a little too short but not so much so that HR would pitch a fit. Her blouse was a shimmering satin blue, and her platinum blonde hair was pulled back into a neat bun.
Her laptop was clutched to her chest as she came and sat in the chair in front of my desk. The short pencil skirt rode up, giving me a sudden and brief peek at her pink panties before she casually pulled it back down, placed her laptop on her lap and opened it up.
A year ago, getting just that singular glimpse would have given me a semi-erection. And even though I felt the heat in my blood and my brain initiating little flashes of imagination, nothing happened between my legs. I grit my teeth and took a calming breath. Thinking about my lack of ability wasn’t going to do me any good now or later. I needed to focus on my job.
I pulled up the project on my computer. “Alright. So. What were your thoughts?” I shifted my attention from the computer to Ella and pushed everything else from my mind.
…
April 17 – 10:00 AM
Daisy: [A photo showed Daisy’s sports top pulled up exposing her breasts. Nipples dark and hard.] There. Now will you take care of organizing the carabiners?
Ash: God your tits are perfect. I think next time I want a tit job.
Daisy: Can you shut up. I’m not sleeping with you again.
Ash: Sure. Sure.
Daisy: I’m married, Ash. It was a mistake. I was drunk.
Ash: Hardly. You had like two beers.
Daisy: I’m a lightweight.
Ash: You certainly are pretty light. Easy to throw around.
Daisy: You’re such an asshole.
Ash: Seemed to like me the other night.
Daisy: Seriously just fuck off Ash
…
April 20 – 12:25 AM
Ash: Thought you’d like a little memento from tonight, besides the one I left you with 😉
Ash: [Attached is a video file:
It begins shakily, the movement jostling and making the visuals blurry. The audio is clear.
“Mmmm. Mmmm. MMm. Fuck.” Daisy is panting.
“Shit that’s good.” Ash grunts.
The video stabilizes. Daisy has her hands in her hair, moving up and down, stomach rippling like a wave pool. A sheen of sweat makes her pale skin glow. Her eyes are closed, mouth slightly open as she lets out the moans of pleasure.
Shifting down, the camera captures a close-up of Daisy’s bare mound swallowing and gripping hold of Ash’s cream-covered cock. Every grinding and bouncing motion of Daisy’s body reveals how tightly she’s squeezing him and the glistening cream and juices it’s producing.
“Like that D. Like that. Fuck that’s tight.” He reaches back with his free hand and gives her ass a hard slap that echoes in the room.
Daisy grabs hold of her breasts, squeezing and pinching at her nipples. “Fuck. Fuck.” She grits her teeth and moans through her tightly closed lips.
Ash puts his hand on her stomach and pushes her, adjusting her position so she’s leaning back, further revealing their union. “Good. Fucking good. Bounce harder, D. Come on. Ride it like you love it.”
“Shut. Up.” She gasps, swiveling her hips and then begins thrusting herself up and down harder. Ashe’s cock slides out. It’s long and thick. Daisy’s lips grip hold, gliding along the thick veins up to the head and then vanish again when she rams herself down with a deep needy groan.
The video continues. Filming Daisy riding hard with grunts, gasps, needy whimpers. Ash holds on tightly to her hip, helping her move.
“Ohhh fuck…fuck… D I’m gonna…I’m gonna cum.” Ash’s breaths were heavy, strained.
She was moving faster. Faster. Grinding and gyrating. Her eyes finally open and meet the camera. “You son of… a bitch…” Daisy didn’t stop riding but reached out like a viper, grabbing at the phone.
Ash laughed. The video blurred and tumbled and suddenly it was on the floor, filming the blank ceiling of a hotel room. The bed was at the side of the frame, squeaking and bouncing.
“Oh, fuck!” Ash grunted.
“Dick!” Daisy moaned.
“It’s in you!” Ash laughed and then was groaning, clearly releasing his load.
“Ahhhhh. Uhhhhh. Fuck!” Daisy cried.
Things went quiet. Soft panting breaths. Silence. The bed shifted, and a foot appeared, landing on the floor and giving a straight view of Daisy’s smooth cunt. It was puffy and red from the fucking it just received. A slick coating of glistening cum dripped from the slit, landing on the camera and obscuring the room.
A moment later, Ash is moving off the bed, reaching for the phone and picking it up.
“Fuck. You dripped on my phone, D!” He called.
“Eat a dick!” Daisy called from the bathroom.
“I think I’ll make you eat mine!”
The video ended. ]
…
I left work early. Ash was lurking around, his eyes always on me, waiting for a moment where he could corner me. The man was insatiable. And I was pathetic for letting him take out that need on me… with me… because I was desperately needy too.
This was far more than hypersexuality. It was starting to feel like a full-blown addiction. But it wasn’t him I wanted. Not really. Ash was good in bed, but really that’s as far as his usefulness went. He was feeding my needs, but I wasn’t his booty call.
I spent the better part of the day avoiding him, then ducked out early to get home and get ready for Conner. The man I was supposed to be bedding.
Hard to do that when things aren’t working properly. I thought as I pulled into the driveway. Maybe it was time to talk to the doctors again and see if there was a prescription Conner might be able to take. Viagra hadn’t been an option due to some complex medical reasons about blood pressure. There were lots of possibilities out there, but the doctors were taking things slow and careful due to the other medications he was still taking for his injury.
I sat in the car for a minute, trying not to get angry. Doctors. Medicine. Therapy. It was all so infuriating. And if I was frustrated, then Conner must have been miserable. This was all happening to him. And I was just on the sidelines. All I could do was watch.
My grip tightened on the steering wheel, and I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the leather. A few tears slipped down my cheeks. All of this was unfair. Unfair to my husband. Unfair to me. And not just the accident and the injury. What I was doing… it was wrong. So wrong.
But I felt like I was two different people. That first night… a mistake. Ash’s constant flirting and a bit of atmosphere and alcohol had just made all my protective walls collapse. If it had just been once, I could have excused it. Overlooked the lapse in judgement. But I’d gone back for more. And more. Over and over. Always justifying it to myself.
I needed it. Masturbation wasn’t good enough. Dildos didn’t do the trick. I needed something real.
I’d justified that, at home, I was the good and faithful loving wife. But when I was away, I was free. What happened outside the home didn’t count.
That was stupid, of course. Such a lame excuse. I knew exactly what I was doing. There was a perfect word for it. But I wasn’t going to say it. Saying it made it real, and for now, I just wanted to keep the fantasy that all of this was separate. That it was two different people. Two different lives.
I got out of the car and went inside. Besides taking the whole day trying to avoid Ash, I’d been thinking about what I wanted to do for Conner tonight. My encyclopedic knowledge of my lingerie drawer was zipping through my brain until I settled on a pink, sheer babydoll with a matching sheer g-string. I’d bought it a couple years ago, but never worn it. Now seemed as good a time as any.
According to some of the medical articles about ED I’d been reading, it was still possible to get aroused, even ejaculate, when having these sorts of problems. Maybe if he could reach orgasm… maybe this was all mental rather than physical. The accident had done more damage than just to Conner’s body. He’d been a wreck in the weeks after. Doctors said it was anxiety and post traumatic stress. He kept reliving the accident. Something like that could seep into your subconscious and do all sorts of things to a person’s psyche.
If I could get Conner to push through his mental block, then maybe there wouldn’t be any need for medication. We could take our time, work our way back from this.
I took my time, taking a shower and scrubbing myself clean. Curled my hair into waves of dark chocolate. Pretty pink flower earrings that he’d given me for our fifth anniversary. The babydoll fit perfectly, hanging gently off my breasts, accenting the nipples as they pressed against the thin material. The g-string was tight. And that’s just how I liked it. Pressed against my vagina nice and snug. Checking myself in the mirror, I nodded to myself in satisfaction.
Now that I was ‘dressed’ I shuffled around in my closet for the box I kept with sexual oils, toys, and accessories. Conner and I didn’t often use these things, but after the accident, when things were becoming apparent that his erections weren’t lasting or coming less frequently, they’d taken to trying some new things. I pulled out a bottle of edible peppermint oil. We’d bought this around Christmas time and hadn’t ever used it. It was part of a set (candy cane cuffs, Christmas light nipple clips, a reindeer tail buttplug, the oil, and a green and red bra and panty set).
I made the bed. Dimmed the lights enough to set the mood. Then I sat and waited.