And then, for some strange reason, I came again. A short, intense orgasm, with my eyes open, watching Patti, my wife, being fucked.
I came again, still buried in Barbara's cunt.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I really wasn't feeling too well.
I had started off for work this morning feeling tired and weak. At first, I thought that I was simply tired; not enough sleep. But as I drove along, I realized that it was more than just tired. I was sick, I pulled the car over and sat for a moment behind the steering wheel. I felt hot and sweaty, and I put my hand up to my brow. It felt feverish.
I'm sick, I thought.
I sat for a few moments, hoping that the feeling would pass. But as time passed, it only seemed to grow worse. I got out of the car and walked up and down along the roadside. Cars swished rapidly by me, adding to my feeling of dizziness. I tried to take deep breaths, but the exhaust fumes from the speeding cars made me feel nauseous.
Weakly, I walked down the road to a rest station. I got change of a dollar, and tried to call Patti, but the line was busy.
That was odd, I thought. So early in the morning. Probably her mother.
I got back into the car and drove it to the next exit where I swung it around on the overpass, and began to drive back home. All the while I drove, my head was spinning, and I found it difficult to concentrate. Fortunately, the hour was still early, and there wasn't much traffic going away from the city. Everyone was on his way into work.
I pulled the car off at my exit and drove it through the empty streets until I reached our apartment building. I parked the car and took the elevator up to our floor. I hesitated for a moment in front of the door. An uneasiness touched me in spite of my illness.
I brought my finger right up to the door bell, but pulled it away at the last moment. Instead, I fished through my pockets until I found my key. I inserted it into the lock, turned the door knob silently, and entered the apartment.
The apartment was silent. Very silent.
I was about to call out to Patti, to tell her that I was home, but again I halted. Her name died on my lips.
I closed the front door behind me, making sure that the lock did not click as I pushed it shut.
I turned around slowly. My head was swimming with fever, and I felt a strange, knowing anxiety creeping up my spine. My senses sharpened, and I listened closely to the apartment.
I heard a very loud silence.
And then I heard a moan.
A soft, soft moan; a moan of pleasure.
The moan went into my body like a knife. I felt it against my skin, against the burning fire of fever. It was cold and then hot, and I began to tremble with its touch.
I recognized the voice. It was Patti.
I listened again, and I heard another moan. And then I heard the mattress squeak.
My mouth was dry and my head was spinning. I sensed a new excitement creeping into my awareness. The ache of the fever was ebbing, and it was replaced with a new kind of ache and a new kind of fever. I put my hand down to my crotch and touched my cock. It was erect, and rock hard.
Between the moans I heard a word. The word blended softly in a whisper. "Fuck," was the word, and it was Patti who uttered it.
I moved from the door slowly. My body was loose and relaxed, and I moved with a silent, catlike ease. My feet fell like shadows against the rug. I moved a step at a time towards the bedroom: for that, was where the moans were coming from.
I moved across the living room, halting finally at its edge. Beyond this point was the bedroom. I stepped forward and could see the bedroom. The bedroom door was open, and I could see the bed.
Patti was on the bed. And so was someone else: a man. He was down between her legs, and he had his face buried against her cunt. Patti had her eyes closed, and she was humping her cunt up and down against the man.
I pulled back from the sight. I felt a blow hit me in the stomach, knocking my wind out. The rest of my senses seemed dulled, and my head swirled in confusion. I didn't know how to react! I couldn't believe what I had seen, but I didn't know how to react to it.
I stepped forward again, around the edge of the living room. My eyes reconfirmed the sight: Patti was on her back, with her legs open widely, and she was naked. There was a man between her legs, and he had his face pressed between her open thighs. He was eating out her cunt.
My lungs felt like they were going to burst, and I realized that I was holding my breath. Slowly, I permitted myself to breathe again; the air seeped out of my lungs in a wet, leaky hiss.
The sound of my own breathing startled me, and I sucked it back quickly. I was sure that they would hear it!
But they didn't. They were oblivious to everything but their own selfish pleasures. I began to breathe easy and confidently.
My brain hadn't caught up to my body: my mind was still reeling from what I had seen. I could feel the heat of my fever burning hotly against my flesh. I felt sweat trickle down my back and down the insides of my thighs.
Patti! I kept on thinking. Patti!
My mind was shattered between two alternatives: it wanted to run and escape, and free me from the sight of her betrayal, and it wanted me to run into her and punish her for what she was so obviously enjoying.
Yet, I could not move. My feet were rooted in the rug like a trunk of a tree. I found myself standing there, holding my breath, watching them, and enjoying it!
That was it! I realized. I was enjoying it.
I touched my cock. It was like a rock, and I could feel the heat it was generating right through my pants. I couldn't remember when it had felt so hard!
I realized that I hadn't cum in over a week. The last time had been the night we spent with Ted Oliver and his wife Barbara. That night had exhausted me, and since then, Patti had been either too tired or not in the mood for sex.
Now I could see why. Patti was getting it from someone else! Another man!
I began to ask myself why. Why was she doing this? Why was she doing this to me?
But I began to realize that I didn't care why she was doing it! Patti was doing it, and that was ail that mattered. Patti was doing it and I was enjoying it!
I felt myself unzippering my fly. I moved my hand as silently as possible until my zipper was fully open. My cock was straining at the material of my undershorts; straining to be free. I reached in and pulled my cock out. It popped loose like a long, thick snake. I wrapped my hand around it, feeling surprised at the heat it was radiating. I squeezed the organ and felt it tremble under my fingers.
I looked up again at the two figures on the bed… Patti had her arms open wide, and she was gripping the edge of the mattress in her open, clutching hands. Her body was twisted sensually, and she was hunching her cunt upward, screwing it tightly into his face. I saw the thick fibers of muscles in her legs tense like bands of steel as she arched her back and brought her wet cunt against his licking tongue. Patti had her legs open as wide as she could force them, and I could just see the fringe of her pubic hair around the bent silhouette of his head. His neck and shoulders blocked her cunt from my vision.
Patti moaned again, and I felt my cock twitch.
I tried to see who he was. He didn't look familiar. He was tall and blond, and for a moment, I thought he was Brian Bennett. But his body was too muscular: his shoulders were wide and thick, and his body tapered down into a tight vee near his waist. His thighs were powerful and well-developed, and his ass was a knot of muscle. He had his thighs spread, and I could see his balls hanging down between them. His cock, apparently, was pushed forward, and was hidden under his body.
His head kept on bobbing up and down against Patti's cunt. His blond hair shifted and tossed as his head moved, and I thought I could hear a faint, wet sound. He had both of his hands in her crotch, and I imagined that he was holding the lips of her cunt open with his fingers so that he could lick at her clitoris.