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Erotic Fiction by Navarre -- 06
Erotic Fiction by Navarre -- 06
The Persistence of Memory
This morning I killed a black cat.
I think: “How horribly unlucky.” And then I think of my wife. She fucks other men when I’m not around.
I laugh out loud. “Poor me.”
Organic softness meeting metallic hardness ‒ quick thud, black scurry into bushes. "Shit," I mutter. I’m not a cruel man. So. Turn the car around in morning traffic, helicopters swarming above. Reports on stalls and wrecks, and here I am swerving around, blocking others from destinations. "You fuck!" I scream to a little old blind woman in a bright blue medallion-colored land yacht. Oh, maybe I’m wrong. It’s not that bad. Brand new Caddy. I bet she gets it repossessed.
I love cats.
Always have. My wife loves them too. We have three, so this cat does more harm to my already jangled mind and body. Wife gives me a quick blow job on my way out the door. Feel her tongue wrapped around my cock for about two minutes. “I'm gonna -- my -- Christ.” She smiles, hums the way I like her to hum while my dick is in her mouth, and pulls away with a pop.
“You should come home early from work -- anytime is fine. I have something planned, something special. You might actually enjoy it.”
“What is it?” I ask, pants in work mode.
“Wait and see,” she whispers, kissing me, sucking my bottom lip.
Poor cat. No cat in sight. I circle the area three more times and I sigh knowing that there's no way the thing would live. I get emotional, briefly, easily. I always have -- especially where animals and helpless creatures and cheating wives are concerned.
When I caught my wife cheating on me the first time -- actually seeing another man's cock inside her. Another man's? No, best friend's. Ah. Sight and sound and suddenly a blackness wash that coats me into an ecstatic state of euphoria, like tripping on ecstasy or smoking some really good weed. A fear and jealous kill and fuck feeling wrapped up in the horniness of my teenage years. Brink of manhood now. Suddenly some unseen force peels my cock from my body like a sticker, and the sound echoes and I hear a creaking -- two pairs of feet scurrying. Clothes. Rush. “Oh, my God, he's home.” And , “What the hell do we do?” And, “Oh, shit. Something's wrong.”
“Honey?” I say, laughing, almost crying.
And then I faint. Really. Fuck -- I’m such a loser. I wake up on the marriage bed -- where another man was just jostling his cock against my dear one. Allen strong enough to lift and carry me. Wet cloth on my head. Melodrama. Wife sensible to be tender and thoughtful. Wife on bed. Best friend behind and they gaze at me as one who has been suddenly crippled. As if I were an invalid. Forever to limp with only two legs to support me. Limping.
But that was then -- not this morning.
I don't feel like work now. I turn my car around and I almost cry on the way home. My guilt is lead-laden, forced down into my neck and shoulders like steel girders. I could no more purposefully kill an animal than I could leave my philandering wife. At least, I can't imagine leaving her. I really can’t. It’s a karma thing. I don’t know -- eccentricities of the rich. My wife still commits the sin she had vowed on our wedding day never to commit. She still fucks my best friend. And others, no doubt.
Call it her sexual nature -- a quirk in the tick-tock of the daily exploration of life.
I love my wife. So, I pretend to not mind.
I pretend it's not there -- this infidelity -- but it is, like a picture hanging in the back of my mind and my eyes are constantly fixed on the look in the eyes of the picture. Seeing inside seeing outside. That first shock? Got over it really quick-like; my emotional reflexes have the swiftness of rebound and agility -- cat-like.
Like my mother's. My father cheated on her. Gave her syphilis.
They’re both dead now. Like that fucking cat, I’m sure.
But then, when I caught my wife? So, I'm lying there -- my head wrapped with my wife's concern and I see them standing and gawking at me. The two, guilt personified. And I hear, "My God, he's okay." And: "You okay, guy?" And: "Oh, shit. We’re sorry"
And I answer them: "Like hell you are. I saw you fucking my best friend, Angela." And the statement cleans the air. The adulterous deed unmasked and standing bare in front of all of us like a nude statue. White porcelain. Hurts to look, you know the kind. And Allen has this look of pity, a hopeless, boyish look that passes like something he might have done to his mother or father. Blond tousled hair hanging limp, pointing down toward power cock pointing sideways in jockey shorts. "And still excited, are we, Allen?" I reach out and barely trace the outline of his prominence -- Allen's thick. He makes a motion to move back. I pull his arm into the perimeter of the bed. Still hot and damp with their coupling. And my dear wife wringing her hands, making them raw with redness. That constant wringing of the flesh. “Out, damn spot, babe?” I ask. Draining normal color into invisible cups to pour later when the skin turns the color of ash.
I am a lion now.
My wife's face is ashen. Both she and her lover are still half-naked. Allen has his briefs on, covering his half-swollen penis. Angela has her robe draped around her, but she hasn't tied it, so, her breasts peek out from time to time and I still see her mound of pubic hair. I smell their smells. Sweat and my wife and the way Allen smells when we work out together sometimes. Sex smells. I sit up in the bed and look at them both with a grin on my face. "What have I done that makes this so necessary, honey? If you wanted Allen bad enough, you could have asked me."
I don't think I'm angry any more. In fact, the situation is amusing and erotic in a profound way, and I feel hardness in my groin and my own flesh is starting to twitch.
I think of that moment as I pass the last stop light on the road that leads to the subdivision where I live with my philandering wife. On my car phone, I phone my office and tell them I am sick. Suits the office, suits me. In my pants, a wrench. On the road, rain marks still slick. Morning drizzle. Wet and warm and humid.
Like semen. Yep, today's going to be a fuck-for-all. I can feel it. I can smell it. Jesus Christ, blood swarms in places dark and vacant. My hands are shaking with lust. Any lust makes men crazy. Lust makes men do anything with an orifice. I feel crazy lust now, cock pumped warm and thick with hot hands. I'm fumbling with my penis as I'm driving. Steering wheel jerking slightly, can't control it as much because I got my cock in one hand and the car in the other.
When did that happen?
I'll take my wife into the greenhouse this morning and fuck her. We don't make love any more. Not since I've discovered her exotic appetites -- they create rifts in my segment of time and space for traditional lovemaking. That is, she's fucking someone else -- male or female and in our bed -- while I'm driving and thinking and mourning. The cat is out of my mind but a peculiar image strikes me.
Hardness into softness.
What constitutes the death of a thing? Why doesn't a man's cock kill the woman? That's harsh. Well, it can be. I dreamed I had fucked my mother one time, when I was about twelve, and I was fucking her in her ass. My mother -- striking image -- yeah, what little horny boy doesn't dream this? And I wake up and there's this spillage, like white honey from the opening of my prepubescent penis. I was supposed to dream about killing my father next, I suppose.
But, what does it take to kill a woman? It takes more than a cock. More than one. I could never do it, of course -- kill a woman -- but I still entertain the thought as I catch wife and best friend, both in their 69, and I walk in and...
Ha. I could never do it.
I have, however, changed my whole attitude toward my wife and my best friend. Just as their attitudes have changed toward me and us and all of us together at the same time, which is what we want most of the time. It's almost as if we've become obsessed with each other. All three of us. Allen and I still work out from time to time, but that all changes once we get home. We go to my house after our work out and we've got our hormones and testosterone and endorphins racing through our systems.
We fuck my wife.
Or each other if we’re all really horny, which is odd because I don't proclaim myself to be bisexual or homosexual. Well, I suppose I am bisexual. It's the label thing. Fuck it. Doesn't matter who. In the end. My proclivity is specific bisexuality in a rich and stark setting. My house enshrouds a whore, who fucks a man I happen to find arousing. Maybe it’s because she fucks him and desires him differently than me.
Fuck, I suppose I WANT to BE Allen. So, I do the next best thing.
My wife, the whore in between or on top or on the side.
“Do you take this woman to fuck and suck in a Daisy Chain, so long as you both shall live?”
Unfortunately, that's all it is any more. Fucking. Sucking. Licking cock and pussy. Anal sex. Vibrators. S & M. Sometimes on Ecstasy. Sometimes not. The possibilities are endless now because we've been reduced to animals. And animals we are. Endless possibilities. Bestial. Foreign hues of blind lust. Open lust. Bisexuality. Masturbation. Talking dirty. Everything but shit games and water sports and midgets.
One fling to another fling, each one connected flings but all different because they all become new scenarios, new quests, new formations. Variations on a theme.
Infidelity. So many things you can do with it.
So, Allen smiles at me. "Well, I'm going to go now." He's uneasy and diffident suddenly. That first time I caught them.
"No," I gently tell him. I spring from the bed and almost lunge at him. I'm physically broader and stronger than Allen, so I lift him and throw him where I just leapt.
"Christ!" he screams. Clueless. Nervous and agitated. Filled with guilt -- I can see it. And I enjoy provoking these emotions in him and I preen. Cock crowing. Yes, that's it. The cock of the walk. Vying for the attention of the hen. Amassed physical strength will win out today. I'm more virile, and I've got the bigger fucking cock. Well, by about a half-inch.
All this time my wife knew what I had wanted...deep in the furrows of my erotic mind she knew and read me. My clothes are suddenly ripped from me. Nude now. Standing there with the two lovers. One lying on the bed, red as sunburns and my wife, raw hands, face flushed with urgency and desire and fear. She throws her robe into the wall and my cock is in her mouth. She sucks. Sucking freely and with abandon. I throw my head back and laugh, knowing that she always knew what I wanted and I made Allen watch us. She sucked on me and sucked on my cock and it grew into her mouth, expanding and life-giving and hard. Yes, fucking hard -- my cock. God and life and manhood. She re-fixed my manhood back in my body and it was working. Working as she worked and the slurp sounds of cock-sucking filled the room and Allen panted with his hand on his shaft and my wife looked up at me, tears in her eyes...
Memory fades, but what a memory that was.
I’m an idiot. They should warn kids about this shit in Sunday school.
I'm at my house now. Three-story stucco. Several thousand square feet. Nice neighborhood. Suburbia...like Peyton Place. Park car. Close garage. Allen may be here. No problem. He lives next door. Young as he is. Ten years younger. More my wife's age than mine. I think of young virility as I walk into the kitchen from the garage. I hear the shower running. Incense drifts send shocks of sandalwood into my nostrils and give the room an Eastern flavor. I think of tropical. I think of India. I think of strange music and strange food and exotic perfume and beautiful dark-skinned women.
I hear voices in my bedroom as I walk toward the back. The lone human voice of my wife humming and moaning (masturbating?) and that of the soft, signature voice of some bizarre, drugged out Joni Mitchell wanna-be -- with trace music highlights. I hear another voice added to the symphony. A groan.
And then another.
Lucky bastard. Father died and left him the house next door and more money than he knows what to do with. He has no life other than the one my wife and I provide for him. I walk to the bed and make no sound and strip my clothes and walk into the bathroom. Shower issuing heat and steam and sounds. Erotic impulse: walk into the shower to surprise them. Yes, surprise them and scare them and dominate them and:
Pull the curtain back. And…
The tub is wide, wide enough to hold four to five to seven people standing and sitting and lounging. I designed it that way. My fucking job. This tub. This fuck tub. The tub is a Jacuzzi. But when I open the curtain I almost stumble. My wife is on all fours and Allen is pumping her ass with his cock. There is a woman I don't know watching them. And a man I've seen at the gym a few times. My wife is sucking on him -- muscle guy's dick. I gulp at the sight, the unfamiliar woman stands and walks around the trio, as if on cue, and sidles up to me. The next thing I know I'm being pulled into the shower by warm hands. "I'm Marlene," she says, kneeling in front of me and taking me into her mouth.
"Marlene," I groan in reply. The shower hissing and moaning water all over us. Marlene's tits hang like gourds, but soft as dough, nipples perked and red. Pink surrounding wine. God, and she can suck my cock and I wonder how in the hell my wife orchestrated all this in just under an hour. She must have had this planned.
I love my wife.
"Ooh," my wife coos as Allen grunts. I see the big strong guy, what's his name? I think it's Mike, or something. Yeah, it's Mike. I see Mike holding the base of his cock with both hands and my wife licks up and down his shaft. God damn and -- oh, yes, Marlene, suck my cock -- and I've got to titty fuck this woman.
I close the curtain behind me and we're all warm now, and I'm into my wife's orgy and I make Marlene with her wet face push her big tits together and make a cock crevice for me. She sends trails of spit-as-lubrication into the fold -- the fake pussy -- and I slide my prick upward. Allen groans and Mike groans and my wife begins to whisper in her hoarse fuck-me voice: "God, your cock is so fucking huge, Allen. Yeah, in my ass, in my -- oh, Jesus! Ooooooh..."
Marlene says: "Watch me, stud. Fuck my tits and watch me." I start my thrusts and I watch my cock glide in and out of her breasts, wet beads form like water on a well-waxed car. She groans and says, "Oh, yeah, big boy to me."
My wife screams with an orgasm. I watch Allen sit on the edge of the tub, water spraying everywhere, creating a sauna-like mist, sprinkling us with lust. He pulls my wife up and slams her asshole back down over his cock. I'm pumping Marlene and Allen's doing my wife and suddenly Mike gets this grin on his face. He grabs hold of his dick and walks up to Angela, who is bouncing up and down on Allen's lap. She has her lips pursed as she bounces up and down on Allen's prick. Her breasts are flapping wildly and juggling like water balloons. Mike takes his cock and rubs the head on the outer folds of my wife's very wet, very slick pussy. She moans an almost inaudible yes as Mike slips it in. Allen laughs.
He peers over my wife's shoulder: "Yeah, man. Fucking split her open."
And Mike shoves his prick half-way into my wife's cunt. She screams, "Jesus!" And I -- almost -- am worried. But she pulls him into her, grabbing his ass with both hands. And she’s screeching, like some porn star.
I am moaning with Marlene and I watch her lick the tip of my dick with her tongue as it thrusts up to her face. I feel semen build up in me -- I want to blow, but I hold off. Marlene suddenly pulls away from me and walks over to Mike, who is now fucking my wife in her pussy as Allen plugs her asshole.
My wife always loved anal sex.
Suddenly, Marlene grabs a dildo with tassels, wet with shower water and hidden from my sight until now, and begins to lightly thrash Mike’s back and ass as he fucks my wife. Angela is screaming, "Harder!"
Allen is bucking wildly.
Mike takes his cock out of Angela and offers his backside to more of Marlene's thrashing. She begins to increase the intensity of the whipping. I can see red warmth blossoming on Mike's thick, muscle-knotted back and ass. He offers his ass up and Marlene smacks him. He lets out a small cry, child-like and filled with pleasure -- belying his height and size. Marlene begins to laugh a little and suddenly, I hear Allen's moans become louder --
"Oh, yes, Angela. God, your ass is tight. Jesus, it's so fucking tight...I'm coming, Christ...I'm -- Jesus Fucking Christ!" And several subsequent cries, sounding like "Ahh!" rack his throat as each spasm of his cock shoots cum into my wife's well-fucked ass.
I hear the slaps of Marlene and Mike. Mike is almost crying from pleasure. His cock is rigid and plank-like. His fists knead it as his face contorts into shapes of joy. Marlene whips him soundly, with terse force -- a pseudo-dominatrix with an little attitude. And she suddenly crams the dildo end of the make-shift whip into Mike's ass, like in that Mapplethorpe picture that all the blue-haired women pitched a hissy over.
I hear cries erupting into shouts of submission and thanks and bliss as Mike nearly comes all over my wife's legs. "Yes," she moans. She’s away from Allen and takes Mike’s cock in her mouth. "You're so hot, Mike. God, you're so fucking hot. Come on my face, baby boy. C’mon…” And Mike screams. Jerks. And Angela pulls him out and lets his spunk shoot on her face and neck and mouth and forehead.
Marlene pulls the whip out of Mike's ass. She moans as he does this.
My wife takes a bar of soap and washes Allen's prick, soaping it up and cleaning it. Angela proffers her ass to Mike as she pumps Allen's cock with her lathered fist, stroking him into cleanliness. Mike kneels down and sticks his face in between Angela's ass, licking Allen’s semen from her.
And then I feel the tethers of a whip on my chest. I grab the whip, force it away from Marlene, throw it to the floor, and grab her wrists. I yank her to me with quick force. I'm pissed now. My hormones raging, all this fucking, and I want to dominate, not be dominated. Marlene smiles at me and says, in a little girl's voice: "Oh, daddy's gonna punish me now, huh? Big daddy with his big man cock. C'mon, daddy. Beat this bad girl."
I do a double-take, listening to her. In one hidden, secluded -- now exposed -- part of me, I want to take this woman and force her to do my will. Make her suck me or make her bend over and take her in the ass. She wants force and violation. She wants--
"Hurry, you fucking whimp. That cock of yours is nothing. I'll go ask one of the other boys to make me do what they want. They'll take me the way they want to take me. Use me. Abuse me. Do things to me and make me do things that other women would hate me for. I could..." She falls prostate to my feet. Water warm and swimming around me. Watching my wife suck Allen again. Mike's getting hard all over, Christ -- do they never end? Maybe that's why my wife wants this -- they continue after they are spent. They must be on Viagra. And X. Maybe crystal meth. I don’t know.
And I feel licking on my toes. I feel wet, warm licking on my toes and I hear more groaning from Allen, getting his meat sucked. My wife's hips are undulating and toying with Mike's swollen cock-head. Marlene is giggling and licking and sucking on my skin. She moves her head up and up and then, suddenly, I feel hands on my ass. I feel woman's hands on my ass and then as sucking turns to graying pleasure, I feel a mouth encircling my balls and then a slow jab in my ass. I flex and go rigid, muscles standing out and she rams her forefinger into me all the way. Daring whorestunt. And as she sucks I feel two of her fingers inside my asshole. Mumbles from her mouth, vibrates like electricity to my cock and then tongue-fire laps at my balls. She suckles each one in her mouth as her hand works my prostate. I find it difficult to stand, cock and balls resting, flopping, dangling like forbidden fruits in Marlene's face and hair.
She gently spins me around, hums, and plants her face between my asscheeks. I feel her fingers exit and her tongue enter. "God, your ass is so tight. And so, Jesus, good...to...eat. Mmm..."
My mind reels and I shudder forth and prop myself with my arms. Behind me Marlene licks my ass. Behind her, the ménage, howling like animals -- cats in heat. And, accidentally, I think of that cat I had smashed with my car. The violence. The impact. The pressure of the car and the --
My face rams into the tiled wall of the tub. I hear a man's laugh and men's hands on my back and arms. I still hear Marlene slopping at my ass trough. Fucking pig bitch. Lap it up...daddy's little piggy. I am suddenly spun around and pulled to the middle of the tub. Angela and Marlene are standing by each other, touching each other and kissing-nibbling each other's ears and eyes and noses. Allen and Mike have me pinned between them and I feel their erections against my stomach and backside. Mike is behind me with his huge dick and Allen is in front, moving his prick in circles around mine.
Marlene picks up the whip again and orders us to turn around, our asses facing her. She sighs and says, "Angela, if only your husband would have fucked me when I told him..."
"I know, Marlene. I know," says the voice that drips from my wife's pout-lips. Her voice is a nether-voice. Siren-like. Mechanical. Drugged. She doesn't even sound like the woman I married. "If only he would have let me fuck the way I wanted without all the bullshit hassle and guilt trips and therapy. HIS therapy. Now, it's mine. I'm just glad he happened on us today. Serendipity, my husband. Now, get fucked."
I feel the whip across my back. I’m thinking too much. Allen and Mike are squirming with pleasure as their master beats us. Under us. Above us. Across us. Mostly on our asses now. I try to stand but both Allen and Mike pull me back down, bending over as we submit. My cock twitches and jerks. I hear the whip drop and Allen groan in disappointment.
I never knew -- I never imagined Allen would like pain. And as much as Mike. Mike, I don't know. I thought I knew Allen.
You always think you know a person.
Until one day… Traces of society and upbringing fester in the water around us, draining into the pipes that lead to the city sewer system to the water treatment plant. Endless cycle -- this water we bathe in.
This water we fuck in.
And we are no longer people, and I feel good now, not being a person. And then I feel my wife's mouth on me and her fingers up my ass. The two men watch.
My cock is scorching with a need for release, but somehow, it won't come. As if something were numbing my muscles deep within my groin. God, I need to come and where's Marlene, that minx of kink and leather whips? Allen and Mike are groaning next to me as my wife sucks my cock and finger-fucks my ass, and then Marlene plops down in front of all of us. She's got another dildo and she's ramming it deep within her pussy. Again and again.
"Oh, yes!" she screams.
"May I fuck Allen, mother?" Mike asks.
"Yes, my babies. Fuck each other. I want to see man-fucking. Allen, let Mikey fuck you in the ass. Take out...oh, God, this cock feels so good...oooh...let him ram his real cock in you. I want you boys to come over here. Do it over mommy, now. I want...yes, my beautiful bad boys. Allen, what does that feel like?"
I listen to Allen ramble about Mike's cock size and the stretching, how good it feels. I watch them as my wife sucks me. I feel come rising inside my prick, but I hold it back. I'm getting into this, actually liking this free-for-all insanity. And it is insane. This reduction of my humanity.
I am in Hell.
And I lose all sense of my identity. Or maybe, I captured my true core self. Who I actually am outside of work and wife and home and man. Not logistics, pure sexual thought and deed. An unadulterated fucking, pleasure-receiving machine. I suddenly think of catching my mother and father having sex when I was a small boy. I remember seeing my aunt and my father. My sister and my step-brother. Titles mean nothing. It's all cock, ass, and pussy.
Freud's proclivity was truth.
And I let my wife suck me. Marlene and Mike and Allen are doing that trio-thing. Suddenly, I need privacy. I gently pull the Angela’s fingers out of my ass and pull my wife out of the wide, vagina-shaped tub.
"Where we going?" she asks.
I pull the curtain, concealing the inner-Jacuzzi fuck fest. I grab two towels and start to pat my wife with the dried cloth. "What are you doing?" she asks.
"We, my dear, are going to our bedroom."
"Oh," she says, smiling.
"I want to be alone with you when I come," I tell her. "Call me selfish."
"Selfish," she repeats.
I love my wife.
We are both dry now. I scoop my wife in my arms, towel wrapped loosely about the two of us -- she's easy to lift and carry. She moans as I tote her into our darkened bedroom. Outside, rain. Hard rain’s gonna fall -- where have you been, my blue-eyed son? I hear low rumblings of thunder and bright sparks of lightning. I hear the shower still running. Laughter from within the bathroom. I close the door.
"How did you manage this?" I ask.
"Yesterday. Allen did. He picked everyone up. Brought them all over here. I hate Marlene."
I laugh. "Why?"
"Because she watches you all the time at the gym, Allen says. She's always wanted you."
"And it's not okay for her to fuck me with her eyes." I cup my wife's breasts in my hands.
"No, it's not."
"I don't want you fucking other women."
"But you're allowed to fuck other men," I add, running my hands up and down her body. She grabs my cock and makes me straddle her chest.
"That's right. I'm the boss. Besides, you like to watch me fuck other men."
"True. When I can watch. But you do it when I can't watch and you cheat. Unfair. And adulterous." I slide my dick in between her breasts. Her mouth meets my cockhead and lubes it for her makeshift pussy. The points on her tits are hard and deep red. Her skin is warm from the shower. Her hands and feet are as wrinkled as mine.
I want to come now. I can't take any more.
But I think of that cat again. The reason for my not going to work. Black cat. Bad omen. I think of what Angela tells me before I leave, covering her ass in case I did happen to come home and catch her fucking all her friends.
I'm angry now.
"Come for me, baby," she moans for me. "Come on my face. That's it, my stud. Fuck my tits. You like these tits. You want them. Fuck 'em. That's it, baby. God, your cock is so good. So good."
"Not this," I say. I pluck my cock out from between her and roll away from her. I turn away and stroke my meat off the side of the bed.
It's a huge bed. I'm pretty far from Angela.
"What are you doing?" Angry. Offended. Pissy and bitchy. Jealous. "What are you doing?" Wants my come. Wants my cum on her breasts and mouth. "Oh, no you don't, you fuck." And she thrusts her head on my cock.
"Jesus," I moan from between my teeth, and I shoot cum into my wife's jealous mouth. "God..." I moan again, feeling semen leave my shaft like flowing water. I scream. Another spasm sends white streams cascading down the sides of her mouth as she moans with pleasure.
I can’t stop -- I can’t -- I scream again.
I smile. I love my wife.
I ignore the voices in the other room and lean back on the bed, spent. Exhausted. Invigorated. And my wife still suckles my cock as it slowly drains. And I cannot think. All I can do is feel. Feel lost. Empty. Dead. Cheated. Scared.
"Don't take it out," I whisper. "Please. Just don't take it out." She closes her eyes and keeps suckling me, oblivious to the tears streaming down my face as I finally weep.