Anonymous

PART ONE | Chapter 1

PART ONE

––––––––Chapter 1

He said: “I want to suck another man’s cock.”

She smiled and told him: “I want to watch.”

“I bet you do.”

Hannah set her wine glass on the coffee table. She crossed her bare legs over her husband’s lap and laughed. “I can’t believe we’re talking like this. It’s so naughty!”

She ran her fingers down the front of his unbuttoned shirt and leaned in to kiss his neck. He smelled like wet pine after coming in from the rain. She kissed him again, kissed his cheek this time.

Every peck left a pink mark.

Tonight, she would paint him with lipstick. Her lips would be her brush, and his skin her canvas. She’d been waiting all day, and now this dirty talk was gearing her up for an evening to remember.

“Sorry again about dinner,” she said with a deliberate pout.

Nathaniel shrugged. “Hey, it’s not your fault the power went out. I wasn’t all that hungry anyway.”

Leaning toward the coffee table, he stacked some cheese on a cracker and popped it in his mouth. Hannah felt awful that finger food was the best she could do after promising him a meal to die for.

She nuzzled his chest as he chewed.

From the time he’d walked through the door, she’d suspected food wasn’t on Nathaniel’s mind. Her husband wasn’t usually a dirty talker, but he’d sure gotten into it tonight. Maybe the candles were to blame. The whole atmosphere of a power outage fostered creativity.

“What else do you want?” Hannah asked. “If we had another man here right now, what would you do to him?”

Nathaniel made a sound deep in his throat as Hannah pulled his shirttails from his navy blue trousers. “Are you undressing me?” he asked.

“Are you avoiding the question?” she answered.

He kissed her forehead, leaving a dab of wet warmth in his wake. “Have you ever known me to avoid questions?” He chuckled as she pushed his shirt down over his shoulders and teased his pert n****e with her tongue. “Oh, you do have a talent for that.”

“You like it, huh?” She leaned across his chest and bit the other n****e, causing it to stand erect. “Well, then, you’d better keep talking, mister. I want to see it in my mind.”

Sitting up beside him, Hannah looked out across the candlelit living room. Her gaze fell into the rocking chair under the vast window of the sunroom extension.

“Imagine he’s sitting right there,” she said. “Imagine we had a handsome young man at our disposal—like that guy Jameson from your office. If he was sitting in that rocking chair, what would you do to him?”

“What would I do?”

“Yes, what would you do?”

Hannah chuckled as Nathaniel rose from the couch and wandered to the window.

“I’m waiting for an answer, Mister I’m-Secure-in-my-Masculinity. How would you make that boy come?”

Nathaniel set his thick fingers against the shining oak of the rocking chair. With his back to Hannah, he raised his head. Raindrops drizzled down the window.

She hoped the electricity would never come back on. This naughtiness was much more entertaining than anything on television.

Turning, Nathaniel met Hannah’s gaze across the room. “If he was sitting in this chair right here?”

Hannah squirmed. Her panties got wet just thinking about the young gay go-getter in the cubicle across from her husband’s. “If Jameson was sitting there naked, all dark and delicious, what would you do to him?”

Nathaniel walked around the chair slowly, deliberately. “The first thing I would do... is touch his face.”

“You would?” Hannah squealed like a schoolgirl, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. “I’d never have guessed. Where on his face? And what would you touch him with?”

“With my finger, you little minx.” He looked at the rocking chair as though Jameson were really seated there. “I would brush my index finger down his cheek.”

Hannah cooed. “I’ve never touched a black man’s stubble. I wonder what it would feel like. Would it be fuzzy, do you think, or sharp like yours?”

“I imagine it would feel like mine,” he said, running a hand across his blondish five o’clock shadow.

Nathaniel had an exquisite face: squared jaw, dimpled chin, Greek nose, and a scorching look in his grey eyes every time a dirty thought crossed his mind.

“What would you do next?” Hannah asked, squeezing the pillow closer to her chest. “I’m sure you wouldn’t spend the whole night touching his face.”

Nathaniel stuck his thumb in the air and wriggled it. “I’d put this in his mouth.”

“Oooh!” Hannah chuckled. “I thought you were going somewhere else with that.”

The implication brought a blush to her husband’s cheeks.

Swinging her feet up on the couch, she hid her smile behind the throw pillow and let out a throaty giggle. “Nathaniel, you’ve gone all shy on me!”

“Never,” he said with a wink.

“What gave you the thumb idea?”

“I don’t know. Just seems like it would be hot, shoving my thumb in another man’s mouth, feeling his lips all around it, his smooth tongue whirling.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nathaniel sat in the rocking chair.

“Careful, babe, you’re sitting on Jameson!”

Nathaniel jerked out of the chair and took a few steps away. Turning back to the rocker, he bowed slightly and said, “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to sit in your lap.”

“Oh, didn’t you?” Hannah raised her eyebrow in turn.

“Not my cup of tea, Hannah Banana.”

“That’s too bad. Too, too bad, because I would love, love, love to watch you take it up the ass.”

Nathaniel stood very straight and c****d his head to one side. “Would you really?”

If he reached inside her panties, he’d feel just how turned on she was by the image of her husband getting butt-f****d by Jameson. Or by any man, for that matter. The action was more important than the participants. Of course, she’d prefer for Nathaniel to be one of those participants. She could watch two strangers any time. The internet was full of gay p**n.

“If you took a man to bed and he got you all naked and he pushed your butt cheeks wide open and spit on your asshole and shoved his c**k deep inside you...” A lustful sigh escaped her lips as she set the throw pillow on the couch. “Oh Nathaniel, I would come just watching it happen.”

Slipping her bare feet onto the area rug, she eased herself up on wobbly legs. It wasn’t just the wine that made her knees feel like jelly. She was arousal beyond belief.

With a growl, she stalked her husband. He didn’t move from beside the chair. As she prowled, he watched her. The fire in his gaze told her the approach was welcome.

She tore open the fly on her jeans and pushed them to the ground, stepping out of that constricting denim as she approached her man. Today, she’d worn the mesh bra and panty set he loved so much.

The moment Hannah stepped within arm’s length of her husband, he grabbed her top and ripped it over her head. She felt his lips on hers before she hearing the growl in his throat. His lust for her propelled him faster than the speed of sound.

He kissed her with all the force and vibration of the thunder rumbling outside. As rain beat down against the solarium windows, she felt her n*****s grow erect against Nathaniel’s chest.

She needed to get this bra off, and fast!

While her husband ran rough fingers through her hair, she reached behind her back to undo the hooks. Once she’d slipped the straps from her shoulders, she tossed her mesh bra to the floor.

Grabbing Nathaniel by the wrist, she plunged his hand inside her panties. At first, his fingers fumbled like they were in shock. But Nathaniel soon recovered. Oh, he always recovered. In fact, his fingers could make her come just as well as any other part of his body—with the exception, perhaps, of his mouth. And, of course, she had a soft spot for his hard c**k. But his fingers? Yes, his fingers were extraordinary.

As he kissed the length of her neck, he slipped them between her p***y lips and played in the slickness of her juice. Every time he stroked her clit, she shivered. Each kiss made her wet all over again. He knew how to get her started, just like he’d know how to get her off. The only quality of Nathaniel’s she found predictable was his ability to give her more orgasms than she could count.

After all that dirty talk, and all the visualizing her husband with that cutie Jameson, Hannah’s body was ready to rock. It didn’t take much to get her clit engorged and hyper-sensitive. Every time Nathaniel stroked it, she clung tighter to his body. She dug her nails into his strong arms, and he didn’t even flinch. He just kept rubbing her clit in circles, harder and faster, until she couldn’t stop her hips from bucking up at him.

When he changed the motion, her knees gave out. He had to hold her body upright as flicked her swollen bud. She whimpered and whined. It felt so good, so wet and hot.

She tried to escape.

He wouldn’t let go.

He rubbed her throbbing clit until cries welled up inside her. She couldn’t hold back.

Her chest quaked.

Her p***y went into spasm.

He showed no mercy. He just kept rubbing, and the more she screamed, the harder he went. Neither had bothered to take off her panties. The elastic dug into her ass cheeks with every quick motion. Thank God for multiple orgasms. She couldn’t imagine having just one and then rolling over and falling asleep.

Hannah slipped out of Nathaniel’s grasp and stumbled to the couch. The side arm blocked her fall and held her upright as her husband slid his belt from its buckle. He didn’t tear off his slacks the way she’d torn off her jeans. No, Nathaniel was slow about it. He knew how much she liked to watch, and this was her own private strip show.

Nathaniel started to unbutton his pants and then stopped mid-motion. With a fiendish smirk, he said, “You came pretty hard just then. You probably can’t handle any more.”

“My clit is throbbing,” she said as he pushed the button on his pants through the little hole and then unlatched the inner hook. When he pulled down his zipper, she whispered, “I want you inside me.”

He let his pants drop.

Nathaniel pounced. Once he’d pulled down her panties, he flipped her face-down over the side of the sofa. Her toes barely touched the ground, but her ass shot high in the air. She turned her head and watched his eyes glaze over as he stared at her wet slit.

His c**k had grown huge inside his jockeys.

She couldn’t wait for him to f**k her senseless.

When the jockeys fell, it was Hannah’s turn to go glazy-eyed. She stared at his hard-on like a wolf hungry for human flesh. She wanted to devour it. “My God, Nathaniel! You’d better bury that thing inside me before it’s declared the eighth wonder of the world.”

Nathaniel took his shaft in hand and stroked. “Wouldn’t you be pleased if my c**k became a tourist attraction?”

“No.” She found her trusty throw pillow and hugged it to her bare breasts. “I could never share.”

“You couldn’t?” He whacked her wet p***y with his erection. “I thought you wanted to watch me with another man.”

She sighed as he rubbed his cockhead up and down her slit. “Yeah, I do want that. I want it...a lot...”

“You do?” he asked, pressing his tip just inside her p***y.

Hannah squeezed her pillow as he eased his big c**k inside her. Her wetness slicked the path, but nothing could prevent her from feeling the bigness of his body in hers. He took up every bit of space she had to offer, and then a little bit more.

“So you wouldn’t be jealous of me with another man?” he clarified.

“Not jealous, no.”

He grasped her ass. Pressing her cheeks together, he rode her until she couldn’t form a proper sentence. She reached back and grabbed his wrist just to feel his strength in her hand.

She said, “I’d come so hard just watching you.”

“What about now? Are you going to come now?”

“Yes!” she squealed before he’d finished asking the question. “Oh God, yes!”

His breath was laboured, but no surprise there.

He rode her hard. Like a much younger man. He never lasted longer than a few minutes.

She could feel his fingers indenting her flesh as he held her in place. Hopefully he’d leave bruises. She always loved spotting them days later and taking a moment to remember the cause.

Every thrust tossed her deeper into a frenzy of o****m. She loved being taken in this position. She couldn’t move and he knew it. He made the effort, and they reaped the rewards together.

As she gripped his wrist, she felt a c****x coming on, and they rode that wave together. He pounded her p***y, he filled her with c*m, and all she could do was scream.

Even after he’d blown his load, he thrust slowly until he had to withdraw, leaving Hannah strewn like a blanket over the couch.

She felt dirty. And she loved it.

Her chest wouldn’t stop heaving. Sure, he’d done all the work, but she was still exhausted from the smoking-hot s*x. She rested in that awkward position, with her ass in the air while Nathaniel’s c*m drizzled down her thigh.

God, she was a good wife.

And he was a great husband.

Their s*x life was second to none, and they would never let each other down.

Hannah didn’t turn her head until she heard the squeal of the old rocking chair. When she met Nathaniel’s fond gaze, he smiled and she smiled too.

“That was amazing,” she said with a sigh.

“Happy Hump Day.”

She closed her eyes. “Same to you, babe.”

They relaxed in silence, apart but together, until Hannah started losing feeling in her toes. When she stood up and reached for the dirty dishes on the coffee table, Nathaniel said, “Leave that for now.”

He joined her on the couch.

She hadn’t noticed the rainy chill in the air until now, and she huddled against her husband for warmth.

He said, “I never asked you how your day went.”

“Oh.” Hannah swallowed hard. She didn’t want to talk about it. “Same as the rest.”

“No bites?”

“It’s been four months,” she said, feeling ashamed of her ineptitude. “Nobody’s ever going to bite.” Letting out a tortured sigh, she rested her head against his shoulder. “So, I cleaned the house and I read a book and I did some yoga and then I started dinner. You know the rest.”

She could feel his head nodding above hers. “You should be looking every day. Think of finding a job as your full-time job. Remember what we said? Send out at least three resumes every day of the week.”

Hannah tensed from head to toe. Her jaw clenched and her ass clenched and her fingers clenched around her husband’s naked thigh. Who did he think he was, her career counsellor? She didn’t phone up his goddamn call centre and tell him how to do his job. Who was he to criticize her search?

He was right, of course. She’d been lazy today. But no way in hell she’d admit that now, after he’d taken that tone.

That tone. He knew the one.

“Honey, you’re hurting me,” Nathaniel said, extracting her nails from his leg.

“Hmm.” She gazed down at his shrinking p***s.

Not so tough now, are we, little man?

It got tossed onto the other thigh as he shifted his weight away from her. She knew he was looking, but she wouldn’t look back.

God, she’d been out of work too long. She was regressing to childhood behavioural patterns. This ought to be nipped in the bud.

“Sorry,” she said with a sigh. “I just...” When she looked up at him and saw the care in his eyes, her heart filled with sorrow. “I know what’ll happen. Either I’ll spend the rest of my life playing Wifey McHousewife, or I’ll get so desperate I’ll take a job flipping burgers. No matter what, I’ll never stop getting pity looks from the neighbours. I’ll die miserable and be buried in a pauper’s grave.”

Nathaniel gazed at her for a matter of moments, seeming perplexed. Finally, he shook his head. “Why would you think that way? You have a very impressive resume—and that’s not bullshit. You know it’s true. You’ll find something at your level.”

“There is nothing at my level.” Her voice sounded whiny, but she couldn’t seem to control that. “Everyone looking for work right now has a resume like mine. There aren’t enough VP-level finance jobs to go around. The only growth sector is customer service and...”

She shut her trap before she could say anything she’d live to regret, but it was too late. Nathaniel took her meaning. “Customer service is beneath you,” he said with a distinct clip in his tone. “It’s fine for me, but...yeah, I get it.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She closed her eyes and fixated on lost images of her husband taking her from behind, some anonymous hulk standing in back him, reaming his ass. What else could she say? “You’re very knowledgeable. You’re practically a banker.”

“But bankers don’t work in call centres, right?”

“I never said that. What you do, fielding account inquiries and all that, it’s every bit as important as what I do—used to do.”

“Yeah,” he shot back. She could feel the upset in his voice. “I know what I do is important.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I just said I agreed with you!”

“You said it.” He shifted to the corner of the couch. “Saying it and believing it are two different things.”

Her jaw dropped while his lips pursed. She looked him straight in the eye, but he didn’t back down.

She did not want to have this argument. In fact, she was actively putting an end to it.

Now.

“This is ridiculous, Nathaniel. This is just the stupidest conversation we’ve ever had. I’m going to bed.”

“Fine.” He reached for the remote. “You go to bed. I’m watching TV.”

“You can’t watch TV. The power is out!”

“Fine! Then I’ll just sit here in the dark.”

She sucked her teeth. She knew he hated when she did that. He also hated when she said, “Do whatever you want,” and stormed from the room.

At that moment, she didn’t care if she was provoking him. Maybe he deserved it.

The rain seemed louder in their bedroom. Apart from the muted moonlight, there was darkness all around. She should have brought a candle. She couldn’t very well head back to the living room now.

Her stubbornness bought her a dark and stormy night alone.

Well, could be worse. I could be the one on the couch.

The thought of naked Nathaniel downstairs made her smirk. No blanket, even. He’d freeze his buns off.

Heaving a sigh, Hannah fell into bed. She wasn’t tired, but what could she do alone in the dark? Well...except that?

She wished the power would come back on so she could search the job boards she’d neglected today in favour of cooking and cleaning and yoga and whatever else caught her fancy.

After four months at home, cabin fever had set up camp, lit the woodfire stove, and made plans to start baking bread at five-thirty every morning. She wasn’t cut out for a life like this. And Nathaniel knew that. Why else would he encourage her to work so hard at finding another job?

Sitting up against the salvaged wood headboard, Hannah watched raindrops race down the window.

This would blow over—this storm, and their stupid argument as well.

Hannah closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and held it in her lungs. She visualized all her negative feelings infusing that breath and colouring it deep red. When she breathed out, she imagined all her anger leaving with it.

That worked for about three seconds.