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We were trying.
I sat at the small table in our kitchen, sipping at my coffee, looking out the window. Our backyard was small, but nicely tended. Lovely flowers and shrubs. A tall standing birdhouse in one corner and an old oak in the other that gave a decent amount of shade in the summer. I’d spent a fair amount of time out there, Daisy by my side, doing the hard work to make it look presentable. Long outings. Sweat. Blood. A little love.
In the days when we were a bit younger, making love in the dirt didn’t seem all that big of a deal. I wasn’t sure I’d be up for doing that again. But if it meant I could rise to the occasion, I’d make love to Daisy in a puddle of mud.
We were trying.
It’d been a few days since Daisy had initiated intimacy in the bedroom. She insisted it was good. And even though I hadn’t gotten erect, the fact that I’d been able to ejaculate had been a step forward.
I didn’t tell her how uncomfortable it had been. Nor did I tell her the next couple of times we attempted intimacy. Every time it felt like a punch to the gut. Or like someone was planting a fist against my taint. Each time I came, and I ejaculated a good amount, it didn’t shoot out like before.
The second time she worshiped my cock. Licking all over. Kissing and slobbering. She was filthy. Her eyes were full of need as she knelt in a sheer pink top and matching thong. She made it about me. Stroking and doing everything to stimulate me. And it worked. I came. It hurt like hell, but I covered her lips and face with thick globs of white and she loved it. The smile on her face was worth the pain.
But it was clear she thought I felt good too. That she imagined my ejaculation was like they’d been before my accident.
It wasn’t. It felt like a cruel joke from the universe. I could cum. But I couldn’t enjoy it.
And what made the experience worse…
I put my coffee down and sat back in my chair. If I closed my eyes, I’d see the images. The ones of my wife… with someone else. With Ash. Daisy kneeling with cum all over her face. But it wasn’t my cum. The image was identical to the one in my memory. Thankfully she hadn’t been wearing the same outfit for me as she had for Ash…
…
April 22 – 8 AM
Ash: Good way to start the day [The photo attached displayed Daisy on her knees in a locker room. Her purple sports top was pulled up so her tits were free. Ash’s cock hung half limp in frame, hovering over Daisy’s face. A single glistening white drip of cum still clung to his tip. The rest of his seed covered Daisy’s face. It dripped from her nose and lips. A few drops had fallen onto her breasts and one was hanging like a dewy string from her pink nipple.]
Daisy: Ass.
Ash: You weren’t saying that when your mouth was stuffed with it.
Daisy: Because it was full you shit.
Ash: That’s right! You were sucking my cock! And you loved it.
Daisy: Just shut up. We aren’t doing anything like that again at work. I’m not getting fired because you’re a sex addicted jackass.
Ash: Fine with me. I’d rather not get kicked to the curb either just for getting some good head.
Ash: And for the record. It takes two to tango. I love sex, but you’re the one that’s addicted.
Daisy: Fuck off
…
Was it strange that I was mentally trying to compare Ash’s amount of ejaculation with my own? How he’d covered my wife’s face much the same way I had. But, had it been more? Thicker? Did she enjoy the taste of it?
Was it better?
My chest ached from the thought. I rubbed at it, the spot where my heart was supposed to be… but felt hollow.
“Morning honey!” Daisy’s voice was cheerful. Bright. Just like her name. I turned, watching her saunter into the kitchen with a wide smile. Her hair was a tousled, frizzy mess, but it looked good. The sort of just-rolled-out-of-bed image that magazines took hours to manufacture. She wore nothing but a dark gray fuzzy robe that she hadn’t bothered to tie closed.
It was impossible not to stare as she went to the coffee maker. The robe fluttered as she walked, exposing her toned legs. The creamy skin. Hard muscles of her hips and V and abs. And her pussy… tender and smooth. Just a hint of the pink of her lips exposed between the outer labia.
Daisy poured herself a cup, splashed some cream and sugar into it and turned to face me. Again the robe fluttered, exposing a hint of her nipples. They were hard. Always hard. She leaned against the counter in a deliberate fashion, the robe hanging open to expose herself to me. The light that streamed in through the windows hit her skin, illuminated it. Making her shine.
“Sleep okay?” She asked with a sweet, playful smile as she looked at me over the rim of her mug.
I cleared my throat, trying not to feel like some stupid school boy getting the first glimpse of a girl. “Um… yeah.” I muttered, and took a sip of my own coffee.
And it was true. I’d slept decently. Even after having had an orgasm that was… painful. Still… in a way it had been satisfying. Maybe it was just one of those triggers for me. You cum and then you nap. A biological imperative to regain our strength. Though that was usually after some very rigorous activity. Last night, Daisy had done all the work… again.
I’d laid back and watched her on top of me, rubbing those beautiful soft lips along my cock. She made it slick with her arousal. And even though I didn’t get hard… just that feeling of her warmth and wetness had made me burst all over myself. And Daisy had licked it up, her tongue trailing over my stomach, slurping at my matted pubic hair. She was so dirty… much dirtier than she’d ever been previously in our marriage.
Was that something I could attribute to her… her meetings with Ash? Was he the one pulling this out of Daisy and she was just bringing it home to me as a sort of… sloppy seconds?
That made my chest burn again. Ache. I rubbed at the burning throb.
Daisy came to stand next to me, her hand on my shoulder. “Hey… you okay?” She put the back of her hand to my forehead. One of those universal signs of trying to gauge if someone was feeling bad, even if it had nothing to do with a fever.
“Yeah. Fine. Just a little… indigestion…” I answered.
She let her hand slip into my hair, ruffling it and scratching gently at my scalp. “Okay. But if it’s chest pains or something, we might want to talk to the doctor.” There was genuine concern in her voice.
“I’m fine. Really.” I smiled up at her. It was nice to know she still cared.
The very idea that she didn’t… that was hard to conceive. Daisy may have been… stepping out on me… but I could, and I did, understand it. Maybe other people wouldn’t. They’d probably tell me a whole slew of things like that I needed to divorce her. To expose her. Plaster the pictures all over the internet and watch her burn. But I could never do that. Not to her. Not to anyone. Even if they deserved it.
And in our case… in Daisy’s case… she had a need and it wasn’t something I could meet. Who was I to judge? I wanted her to be fulfilled and happy… and for what it was worth… that’s exactly how she seemed. She always came home to me. She was making an effort to be intimate and enjoy our time together. Those weren’t the actions of a woman who wanted out of her marriage. Some part of her wanted to stay. To be here with me. Even though I was lacking.
Daisy’s fingers tightened in my hair. “You know…” Her words were a husky whisper. “I didn’t get a chance to cum last night.”
I looked up, pulled away from my thoughts of self pity. My wife was looking down at me, the blue of her eyes like a hungry storm raging on the open sea, holding her coffee in one hand and gripping my hair in the other.
“I think you should give your wife a treat before work. Don’t you?” With a mischievous smile, Daisy started pulling me down towards her exposed mound. She adjusted her stance, legs further apart as she stood next to me and brought my face right against her sex.
She smelled divine. Musky and sweet. A hint of moist arousal slipped into my senses.
“Please baby.” she whispered, and I didn’t need any more encouragement.
While Daisy stood at the table, I sat with her hand on my head holding me against her. My tongue lapped and slid between her folds. Her moans were soft, erotic, controlled. She sipped her coffee and enjoyed my mouth. On her. In her.
I held tight to her firm hips and devoured my wife. I sucked at her clit, making her breathe heavier and gasp lightly. My tongue darted in and out along her slit, tasting and swallowing her juices.
“Like that… yes…oh honey fuck…Conner please… oh god it feels good honey.” She whimpered and it was clear she was getting closer to her peak. But she stayed firm and steady, holding my hair and pushing me against her. It came from all those years of climbing. She had to be in control of her muscles, sometimes maintaining a position up on the rockwall for several minutes while teaching or just climbing in general.
She tasted amazing. She always did. But now I knew this pussy had been entertaining another. Another man’s mouth. Fingers. Penis. And somehow that changed the taste. Not like she’d just been with Ash and come home to me right after. This wasn’t that sort of thing. But I could tell on some fundamental level… she’d changed. The beautiful woman I fell in love with and made love to and fucked, had changed.
As I brought her towards her climax, hands gripping harder and harder as I licked and teased her clit. I had to wonder… was the change for better? Or for worse?
…
Climbing a wall was doing nothing for the increasing tension I was feeling. Tension in my mind. In my body. The sexual tension that somehow simultaneously existed inside and outside of me.
The gym was in a lull. It happened at certain times of day, people just hadn’t made appointments or didn’t have the opportunity to come in. So the time was usually spent cleaning up. Organizing. Or, just climbing and testing the equipment. I was halfway up our Moderate Course Wall, hanging from one of the angled panels by one hand. Not something you were supposed to do for too long or really at all unless you were going to swing and jump to another hand hold. But I’d been letting myself hang for almost a minute, feeling the burning in my arm and back.
It hurt. It was dangerous.
I deserved that pain and that risk.
It’s how I was living my life. Risking my marriage… and for what? The climax of reaching the top of a mountain?
It was all a metaphor inside my addled brain. Reaching the top of a climbing wall, a mountain, a cliff, was always a powerful moment. The strain. The effort. It was all in an effort for a singular moment. To stand at the top. Finished. It didn’t take a genius to see the parallels to sex. And I was far from a genius. That was Conner. Conner was the brains in our marriage. Not that I was the brawn or that I didn’t have any brains… but considering my behavior over the last month or more, maybe I didn’t have any.
Grabbing back onto the wall, I let my arm relax for a minute, letting the aches and pains subside before beginning my descent. The soft thumps and clanks of feet hitting the wall and equipment jangling clouded my senses as I robotically made my way down the wall. I’d done it dozens… hundreds of times now and it was like second nature. Up and down. I could probably have done it with my eyes closed.
I should quit. We don’t need the money. Even if we did, I could find another job. There’s several other gyms around town.
The thought had been haunting me for a few days now. Of course that only deepened the guilt I felt of having been having this affair for over a month now. Quitting should have been one of the first things I thought of. Get out of this toxic environment. And by that I mean the toxic attraction I had to Ash and how his constant proximity made it hard to avoid the inevitable collision of our genitals.
It would make things easier. Leave and restart. Delete Ash’s number. All the texts and videos and photos that he’d sent me. The dick wouldn’t stop doing that. Not that I was doing much to stop him. Just another thing I’m guilty of.
But even as I touched down on the mats and unhooked the various ropes and carabiners, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. I liked this job. I liked this gym and the people I worked with. Hell… I even liked Ash. Not ‘like like’ but he had a charm and he was good at his job. He was a good friend to go out and get drinks with. But that’s what had gotten me into this situation. A stupid little bet, one that was far beyond the bounds of propriety, and the drinks and dinner after.
I brushed stray strands of sweaty hair from my face, gathered my equipment and headed towards the locker room. My shift was almost over. One of the rare times I took the afternoon rather than morning or evening shifts. It would mean some quiet time at home before Conner got home. A time to reflect and maybe figure out how to unravel this whole mess I’d made.
It felt like we were making progress. The last few days Conner and I had been more intimate. Exploring the ways we could please each other without penetrative sex. And fuck had I forgotten how good Conner was at eating me out. This morning had been so erotic. Mindblowing. Standing there and sipping my coffee in the raw morning light. My husband’s tongue and mouth diving in and loving me. It still sent shivers down my spine and made heat pool between my legs as I pushed into the locker room.
All the other things we’d done had been amazing too. And Conner was ejaculating. That was good. Before… nothing had happened. So these felt like steps in the right direction. Maybe he’d never be able to get erect again… that was a horrible thought, but there were other things we could do. And maybe we could even go the route of a pump. I’d been reading up on those things. It was initially embarrassing, there seemed to be a lot of stigma around a penis pump. Like it was only used for men with penis envy or something. But they had legitimate uses. There were options.
But the doctors were still weary of doing anything. Spinal injuries were complicated. Delicate. And though Conner was out of the woods, the doctors still were erring on the side of caution.
It was infuriating. But I’d rather be safe rather than sorry. I’d almost lost Conner once… I wasn’t about to risk that again just so his penis could get hard.
All those thoughts were swirling in my head as I stripped off my climbing spandex, shoving them into a small mesh laundry bag and pulling out my clothes. I really needed a shower but I didn’t feel like taking one here. I just wanted to get home.
I got dressed quickly, grabbed my bag and headed back out into the gym.
“Daisy!” Carmen, one of the other climbing instructors, came bounding up to me in her street clothes. She was a sweet latina woman, dark wavy hair, an earth tone to her skin, and beautiful smooth curves like that of a roman statue. Her dark eyes were playful and the smile on her pink lips was always infectious. “Hey, are you on your way out?”
“Yeah. Was hoping to get some stuff done at home…” I kept walking, Carmen coming up alongside me, her backpack held at her side.
“Well put that off and get some drinks with me and Ash.” She smiled, pushing the door open for me as we walked outside into the cloudlessly warm day.
“Ash?” I paused at the entrance.
“Yeah. We were gonna just go and get a drink. Chill. Come with us. It shouldn’t be long and then you can go home and clean or whatever.” Carmen chuckled as Ash came driving up to park in front of the gym.
“Hey girls! You coming too, Daisy?” Ash was in a loose fitting t-shirt, the arm holes ripped wide so some of his muscular chest was visible. He tipped his sunglasses down, staring at me with that cocky grin of his he thought was charming.
Carmen wrapped an arm around mine. “Come on D. It’s been a long day. Let’s relax.”
“Yeah…” Ash’s tone was… suggestive. “Come relax with us D.”
I knew.
I knew I should say no. I should just go home. Do what I planned.
Instead… I was slipping into the passenger seat of Ash’s car, Carmen tucked into the narrow backseat. Ash flashed me a sly grin. For what it was worth… I tried my best to ignore him the entire drive. The entire time we were at the bar. Even after a few drinks, I still successfully shrugged off Ash’s flirtations.
But by the time all three of us stumbled into his apartment, there was no way to ignore him any longer.
…
Daisy was late again.
I knew her schedule. She shared it with me every week so we could properly coordinate dinner or evening plans. Today she had the afternoon shift at the gym and should have been home by three.
It was seven.
I’d come home to an empty house. It should have hurt more. But now at least I knew where she was. Or at least who she was with. In a way… it was comforting. At least I wasn’t completely in the dark. That would be worse. Much worse.
My evening was quiet. I made myself a sandwich and sat in front of the TV, watching something mindless while I ate and had a beer. My mind tried to go to places… with questions about what my wife was doing. But I pushed them aside. I kept my mind blank. Calm.
She was out having sex. It was something she needed. I couldn’t blame her.
It was starting to become a bit of a mantra in my head.
I can’t blame her. I can’t blame her. I can’t blame her.
After a while the television couldn’t keep my attention, so I walked quietly to bed. I stripped to my boxers and slipped into the cold covers. As if on cue, I heard the distant sound of the front door opening and closing. Daisy was finally home and it was only seven-thirty. Not as late as she’d been coming home lately.
I shut my eyes. I didn’t want to see her coming in looking… satisfied. The soft whisk of her shorts announced her as she came down the hall and then stopped in the doorway. I could hear her breath. Soft. Steady. Then she was moving again, into the bathroom, closing the door quietly. A few minutes later she came out. No shower this time. Maybe she hadn’t been out with Ash. Not every outing or late return home had to be tied to something scandalous. I was overthinking. Paranoid.
Daisy sat on her side of the bed, the mattress shifting under her as she slipped under the covers. One of her hands gently pressed against my back.
“Sorry I’m late.” She whispered.
Did she think I was awake? Or was she just talking…
“I’m so sorry Conner.” Her voice was even softer, strained.
I knew I shouldn’t. The best idea was to just pretend I was asleep. To let her words go unanswered. But my mouth opened and I whispered just as quietly. “I understand.”
Her fingers tensed. I felt her hand become slightly clammy. It was just a second. Almost unnoticeable. Then she pushed it against my back again, firm and meaningful. “I love you, honey. Goodnight.”
“‘Night.” I muttered back.
She didn’t move her hand the entire night. When I woke up it was still there, touching me. Pressed against me like her touch was keeping me planted to reality, instead of spinning out into oblivion.
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