I cocked my head to the side. “Now?”
I sat in the armchair in the dark corner of our bedroom, wearing only my panties. I wanted it that way — to watch him without him watching me. I wanted him to forget I was there, lose himself until I found him again. There were candles on the end tables and the dresser — they would add to the mood, we had decided. Francesca brought her wine glass with her and sat on the edge of our bed, taking long, steady sips until there was none left. She unbuttoned her blouse, tossing it towards the doorway, and shimmied out of her jeans. In the dim light of the room, I felt a moment’s panic as I took in her ample decolletage and her flat stomach, and the ass that wouldn’t quit. Theo stood behind her, cupping her ass in his hands and squeezing. Then Francesca slid towards the centre of the bed, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned back. Theo undressed quietly, and brought me the Sharpie, hesitating as he handed it to me. I pressed the palm of my hand against his heart then wrote my name on his cock. I wrote slowly and carefully, pressing the marker firmly into his skin. He leaned down and kissed my forehead, then I turned him around, and sank into the softness of my chair. I couldn’t watch him walk away. I closed my eyes and ignored the tightness in my chest.
Theo stood at the end of the bed and shyly crawled up until he was kneeling between Francesca’s legs.
“I can’t believe we’re about to do this,” she said.
Theo looked back in my direction. “Neither can I.”
He placed his hands between her calves, sliding them up to her inner thighs as he spread her legs. He kissed her navel and dragged his tongue along the undersides of her breasts. When he wrapped his mouth around each of Francesca’s nipples, sucking loudly, she grabbed the sheets beneath her, drawing her fingers into loose fists. Blindly, Theo reached for the end table, where earlier he had set a condom. He ripped the package open with his teeth, and Francesca sat up on her elbows, helping him slide the condom over his cock. She smiled at him, her shoulders relaxing, and slid a long, manicured finger into Theo’s mouth. He groaned — he loves that sort of thing — and, holding Francesca’s wrist, he pulled each of her fingers into his mouth one at a time, then placed a kiss on the inside of her wrist.
I leaned forwards in my seat, my chest growing tighter still, my throat dry, my eyes curiously damp and my pussy on fire.
Francesca sighed and slowly rolled over on her stomach. She smiled back at Theo — an unexpected, surprising and perfect erotic gesture. She arched her back, her perfect ass high in the air. Theo slapped it lightly. Francesca wiggled. “Don’t be shy,” she said. Theo splayed both hands across Francesca’s ass, sliding his thumbs between her ass cheeks, before slapping her ass again, harder this time. “That’s what I’m talking about,” she encouraged. Theo alternated between smacking Francesca’s ass and massaging her backside with his fingers until her skin was bright red, and her thighs were quivering.
She looked at Theo over her shoulder and he paused long enough to kiss her, a crushing, sloppy, hungry kiss that forced me to look away. Francesca reached for him and he worked his cock inside her, my name sliding into another woman’s cunt one letter at a time. I could hear how wet she was. The bitch was enjoying this. So was I. I also entertained the idea of each of the letters of my name circulating through her bloodstream and wrapping themselves around her throat, constricting with each breath and moan until she went silent.
At first, Theo teased Francesca, filling her to the hilt, waiting, sliding all the way out, rubbing the tip of his cock along the curve of her pussy before filling her again. He turned to me again, smiling, tapped his heart and pointed to me. Francesca’s legs spread wider. She rocked back against my husband, urging him to stop playing games. “Fuck me,” she said harshly. Theo grabbed hold of her waist and shoved his cock forwards, deep and hard. They found a rhythm, the two of them, their bodies slapping together wetly, then coming apart, and back together again. Theo grabbed her hair and pulled Francesca’s head back, her neck muscles straining. He slid his tongue in her mouth, groaning, the sound, I imagined, echoing into her chest and waiting there. He fucked her harder, the sound of her desire growing slicker, looser, my name reaching further into her body. I sat perfectly still, my jaw aching. My teeth had been clenched for some time. They looked good together — his pale skin against her darker tones, his leanness where she was round, their thighs pressed together, the undulating of their bodies moving in time, their eyes closed, mouths open. I felt myself disappearing into the walls of our home, the rest of the world falling away. And I felt the painful and intense pleasure of watching something I was not supposed to see. I hated myself for it.
“You like this, don’t you?” Theo asked, punctuating each word with a slap on her ass. “You like it dirty.”
“God, I do.”
Francesca began moaning louder until she was practically shouting, her head and her long mane of black hair flying from side to side. She whispered, “I can’t believe I’m going to come.” She shrieked, once, and buried her head in a pillow, her body trembling. Theo kept fucking Francesca, steadily stroking her pussy with his cock. “I’m not stopping until I’m done,” he said, lifting her hips higher. He fucked her until he came, his ass clenching as he gave her one final thrust, so hard that she slid up the bed, her head bouncing against the headboard. He lay on top of her for an uncomfortably long time, then rolled off when Francesca pushed him away and jumped out of bed. The room was filled with an awkward silence. I finally allowed myself to breathe deeply and pulled my knees to my chest, hugging myself.
Francesca started collecting her clothes. “I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” she said. “But that was wonderful.”
Theo smiled, and wrapped a towel around his waist. Once Francesca had dressed and composed herself, he walked her to the door. When he returned to the bedroom, I had blown out all the candles and was standing near the window, watching Francesca drive away. I heard the snap of Theo removing his condom and the soft thud of it being tossed into the trashcan. I couldn’t look at him, afraid of what I might see there, not even when he wrapped his arms around me from behind nor when he whispered, “I love you.”
I reached back and squeezed his thigh. “I know.”
“Are you angry?” he asked.
I shook my head, swallowing hard.
“You sure?”
I took his hand and pulled it around my waist, sliding it beneath the waistband of my panties. He parted my pussy lips with two fingers. I hissed, my clit throbbing and jealous and angry. I felt my wetness slide around his fingers while he stroked my clit. “What does this tell you?” I asked.
Remember This
Shanna Germain
I’ve had the pill for three weeks now. I keep it folded in an envelope in the nightstand next to my bed and, every evening, I take it out and hold it in my palm. It’s so small, almost too small considering what it could do, what it will do, and it’s a colour that’s not quite blue, not quite grey. Sometimes I only hold it for a moment before I let it fall from my palm back into the envelope. Other times, like tonight, on the eve of my fiftieth birthday, I hold it for a long time, reading the single letter on it over and over. Neither Raina nor Maddox know I have the pill. They would try to get me to give it up, and I can’t do that. Not to them. Not to me.
It’s too early for me to even have this pill — there are only small signs. Forgetting where I put the keys, or how to make my famous anise cookies. Only once have I forgotten how to get home, back to this place that I love, but that was enough for me to make the appointment. They say I’m overreacting, that there’s no way to make a diagnosis yet. Maybe. Maybe not. But I know they see it too. Already I’m forgetting. Not just recipes or directions or birthdays, but the things that really matter: how to strap on the harness that Raina likes so much, the way that Mad holds his balls up with one hand when I suck him, how I sound when I’m coming.