CHERRY BLOSSOMS // Revisited // Bachelorette // 2.13

“You fucking dirty slut.”

Nia gasped and laughed. Her hips trembled on him. She rocked him, her pussy making wet smacking sounds against the first inch of his aching hardness. “I’m going to fuck him in Montreal. Just watch me.”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, but he locked eyes with her. He wanted her to dare. He wanted her to dare really, really bad. Especially right now when she had him so crazy. He could picture it, her away on her work trip, cheating on her dumb husband with that gorilla of a boss. Taking that thing between his legs she’d seen pressing up against his jeans. His dirty, dirty girl.

“Rocco’s so fucking hot, Geoff. He’s got black eyes. Like men from southern Italy. They’re so beautiful.”

“But he’s not . . . fit.”

“He’s big and so strong.”

“You want that big cock?”

“I want it, Geoff. I want him to take me and hurt me. I want him to break me in two. I want to, ah, scream when he, ah . . . oh, fucks me.”

“Oh, Nia, I’m going to, ah, mm.” He thrusted as best he could, dying to plunge himself into her, dying to feel her tight grip around the base of his cock. She’d got herself wet with her bad girl fantasies and her pussy had sweat itself all down his shaft. His wife’s juices slithered over his scrotum, tickling him where it dripped down to his crack. He fucked her with his tip as hard as he could. Nia was gasping now. She was going to come from one inch of cock.

“Oh, ah,” she panted, and her face clenched up.

“My whore likes it to hurt?”

“I like it rough.”

“Rough?”

“I do. I like it to hurt a little. I like a man who is hard on me.”

“Oh Nia, oh shit, you’re fucking, ah, you’re, mm.” His mind was reeling. He never knew ever that sex could be so good. He never knew another person could make you feel like this. Sex was love. Sex was more, too. It was base and dirty and awful but if you loved someone enough, those were just layers—hard, crushed glacial sediment, thin archaeological wafers that made up the whole, and when the whole was his Nia and his love for her . . .?

“You lied when you, ah, said my dick was good, mm, enough.”

“Your dick is big enough to be my husband. It isn’t big enough to be my lover.”

“Ah, fuck, I’m going to come.” He shuddered and buckled under her. The building pressure was enormous.

“Ha ha, me too. Slow baby. Just your little tip.”

“I was big enough that night I made you scream.”

“That wasn’t your dick. We were being dirty. That’s what made me scream. One time in fourteen years.”

“You haven’t come like that in fourteen years?”

“No.”

“Seriously?”

Nia shook her head no.

Her phone chimed again, its surface lighting up a square seen through the thin material of her dress. A pocket on her hip. She ignored it. He ignored it.

“You used to? Before me?”

“Mm-hmm.” Now she nodded.

“I’m going to come so hard into your lying pussy.”

“Do it, Geoff, it’s ready.”

“You lying slut, I’m so close, ah, let me fuck you deep, Nia.”

Nia gasped, her face twisting up. Tears bloomed under her eyelashes, sparkling in the dark room, throwing little blips of reflected moonlight at him.

“Nia, I want you to feel how hard you made me. I want you to feel me.”

“I want it too, Geoff.” Her voice quivered. “Plunge it in me Geoff, fuck me deep, baby.”

He shimmied down the bed and heaved himself back so his cock thrusted straight up. Nia sank onto him, reaching behind and guiding his cock inside her. He thrusted into her and she gasped louder.

“Ow, fuck, Geoff. So fucking hard, mm, oh, your cock . . .”

Nia flattened against him, stretched out, hands scratching at his chest while he gave her every inch he had. She whimpered into his ear.

She was crying. “Geoff, I am a liar, baby, I’m sorry.” Her voice was so close, but it sounded far away, like she didn’t want to be here or she didn’t really want him to hear it.

“Nia?”

She hugged him. “I’m a fucking liar.”

“What is it? What?” He buried himself in, gave her two full and fast strokes. He wanted to come so bad.

“I fucked Dino,” she cried. Her face had screwed up, and when she caught him looking, she covered herself up with her hands.

“The other night?”

“No, a long time ago.”

“I know. Nia, I don’t . . . I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We weren’t dating. I, mm, f-fucked him while we were married.”

He grabbed her arms roughly, and she cried out in emotional misery. It was too late for him. The idea of her being bad Nia, doing it behind his back before he even told her she could, that he was okay with it . . . it shot through him like a lubricated rocket tearing up his insides in a clean, effortless swath and lightly grazing the wonderful underside of his cock. He shot streams of semen inside her like he’d never done before. It exploded from him like pulses launched from a hot garden hose laid out in the sun all afternoon. Pulse after powerful pulse, ripping through his cock and spraying the insides of the woman he would love no matter what.

Nia cried and moaned, wailing in ecstasy and misery all at once, feeling her husband injecting her with his nectar, filling her up with his love.

He squeezed her arms as he came, hating her and loving her with an impossible equivalence. Nia’s face contorted with the shame. He pictured her face as he saw it now—but behind his back, in Dino’s apartment, in the hall, the two of them meeting innocently and then not being able to stop themselves. Did she suck Dino’s cock, or did they not have time? Did she just want it inside her? Dino fucked her in the hall, he bet. Come up for a coffee, Dino had said, then pinned Nia to the wall, and Geoff Kane’s slut wife—who liked it hard—kissed Dino, and felt that huge uncircumcised cock splitting his firefighter pants apart. Then Dino flipped Nia face first into the wall and fucked her from behind as hard as Nia could take it—harder even, and Dino came all over the back of her dress and all down her legs.

“How could you?” he cried.

“I just did it,” she said, sobbing.

He shook her arms. “Nia—we were married.”

Nia nodded, and he could feel his stomach growing wet and warm from her tears, felt them dripping and tapping onto his T-shirt.

“Nia, don’t cry. Nia.”

“I want to be honest. I hated myself. I hurt myself. I’m so sorry. I can’t . . . I can’t lie anymore. I wanted to tell you before the other night—but I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You cheated on me?”

She nodded.

“One time?” he said, crying, and jostling her arms.

Nia’s head lolled with the jarring. “I swear, Geoff, I won’t ever lie again.”

Her phone chimed, lighting up a square in her dress again. The fabric mesh square faded back to black. She cried gently in his grip.

He watched her mournful down-turned face. He said, “I love you so much.”

“I know. I love you.”

“You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.”

“You can fuck Rocco.”

Nia said nothing. Didn’t move.

Geoff pulled her close, whispered, “I love you. I love you so, so much. I’m used to watching you fuck other men then come and cry on my shoulder. It’s how I fell in love with you.”

She looked away, didn’t know how to deal with this.

Did Nia want a man who wouldn’t want this? A man who was enough for her. A man who knew he was enough. Was this something she wanted, but deep down, didn’t really want? Like Nia wanted to get fucked hard, but wanted it to be by her husband. Nia already said that if he did it rough, it would be fake. That she would know it was fake.

“I don’t know if I can do it for real,” she said, face hidden away in her black hair.

“You did. Tonight, with the stripper.”

“I’m dying inside from it. Look at me.”

“You’re upset about what I might do.”

She nodded, hair shaking around her shoulders.

He grabbed the hem of her dress and slid it up her body, watched her fine flesh revealed to him. Watched for that little belly button, watched her firm tummy come to light, then Nia lifted her arms and tossed the dress aside, a thunk from her phone against the floor. Her hands went behind, and she undid her bra. Her breasts dropped. He took the bra away, and held her breasts, felt their wonderful weight. He ran his thumbs over the nipples. Her breaths grew deep and lustful again, and Nia rocked against him. She was hungry. His seed streamed from her, and his balls chilled from the enormous wet that leaked from Nia and onto the sheets. He stiffened once more.

“What about what I just said about Dino?”

“It’s the past,” he said. “I don’t want to think about it. It hurts. The lies hurt, but I know you must have suffered. The action doesn’t hurt somehow. The lies do.”

“I could never tell you how sorry I am—not enough you’d understand it.”

“I know. Now I want you to do it. I want it for you. My dick is harder than ever before. I love you when you’re dirty. Fuck Rocco. When you get home, I’ll clean you up, make you feel better like when we were at school.”

She squashed her pussy against him, letting his returned hardness inch deeper.

He said, “You like it, don’t you? You want it.”

“Yes,” she said, still crying.

“You do. I feel you do. You’re so fucking wet right now, Nia.”

She gasped and ran her hands over his hands, squeezed them against her breasts. She panted while she fucked him. “I feel you do, too. I feel it in you. You want this so bad.”

“I do, Nia. I love you, and you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I can’t give you what you want, not all the time. Get it. Get what you want. I want it as badly as you.”

“Ah, Geoff.”

Her phone chimed again. She laughed.

He said, “Think your friends would imagine this is where you are right now?”

Nia shook her head. Her mind was off somewhere in the clouds. He had her close. He felt invincible. Maybe he didn’t blow the top off her skull like some of her other lovers, but he was learning. He was going to do it right now. He could read it on her pained but vacant face. That would be twice in fourteen years. A terrible record. But it was twice in two months. He was learning. And if he could make her scream and wail every time? Fuck, what a thought.

He bucked her off, knocked her to the mattress next to him. He pinned her chest to the bed and hissed in her ear, “What do you want to do to Rocco? Tell me.”

“Mm, ow, Geoff.”

He squeezed her thighs together and straddled her, pushing his rock hard cock down to her crack with the tips of his fingers. “Tell me.”

“I want to suck him.”

He found her pussy and slid into her easily.

“Oh, ow, you’re so hard, baby.”

“You’re going to suck him?”

“Mm, yeah, I want to taste his big cock.”

“Shit, Nia.” He pressed her neck into the pillows with the blade of his forearm and reached to her front and shoved a hand down between her and the sheets. “That what you think about?”

“Yeah,” she squeaked.

“You think about what his cock tastes like?”

“Yeah,” she gasped again.

“You sit in the truck and think about that?”

“I try not to, ow, Geoff.”

He found her wet flesh. She was sopping and hot, stretched with his entry. He rubbed through her folds and she moaned. He fucked her from behind, sliding in deep and short strokes. When he got a hold of her button, he twisted it.

“Ah, Geoff, you’re hurting me.”

“Tell me.”

“I want to, ah, suck his cock. Ah, get off, Geoff. Get off.”

She meant it. He was hurting her, and he was not the kind of man who could do that. He felt instantly stupid. He got off her, kissing her bare back. Nia rubbed her neck as she rolled over.

He looked at her, guilty. She was naked. Moonlight slashed across the most beautiful body he’d ever seen. Soft woman breasts, nipples hard, clenched and dark, her ridged tummy, the smooth lines of her ribs. She was thirty-two, and she had borne their child and she was perfect. Her legs parted, showing the wet pulse of her mound, her shaved bare flesh, and her slick furrows. He came to her, and Nia circled her arms around his back. He entered her, and she gasped.

“Oh, Geoff. Fuck me.” Her voice was a fantastic breathy whisper across his cheek. He made love to her. Gently and passionately, giving her every bit of him, in and out, kissing and touching and loving. He built her up again, built her to a high point—the top of a ladder, her chest heaving, her breath sharp with rasps. Nia hitched a leg up and climbed over. She didn’t scream, she didn’t wail, she didn’t even toss her hair around—but she came.

Nia squeaked and moaned and bit her lips and her sweet pussy milked him, clamped like a fist. Her hips swiveled, her belly squirming along his belly as she danced out the rest of her orgasm. She inhaled deep until her lungs were full, then softly exhaled. Her eyes opened, and she smiled. Smiled, but there was something else there, and he didn’t like it.

* * *

She’d met Geoff at a social after class at the Student Center. They were both in Logic and they shared the same tutorial. She liked his face. He was funny. But she’d never talked to him, one on one, until he was randomly sitting one day across from her at the Yogen Früz on campus. Both of them were alone, and she went and sat with him. They spent the rest of the day together and she’d never met someone before who was easier to get along with. They ended up walking across campus and he took her to Black Creek Pioneer Village. It was a beautiful September day. They drank cider, pet horses, sat and talked and watched the blacksmith. Good clean fun. She didn’t fall in love with him. Not right away. She spent the first three months flip-flopping over whether he was gay or not, what with the art and all. She was pretty sure he was gay. She was happy she had a gay friend. Turned out he wasn’t, though. Just a good guy and an awesome human being.

She lay now with him resting his head against her, two loads of his cold semen leaking out of her. He was her husband, and she was mad at him and she shouldn’t be. She blamed him for what happened in the parking lot. She had no interest in that stripper. She didn’t need that shit.

Geoff’s sleepy face pressed to her belly. The whole cab ride home, she cursed her husband’s weakness, and wished he was more of a man. But then he wouldn’t be Geoff.

She ran her fingers through his hair. Geoff would let her fuck a real man. Then come home to him. She should be grateful for that.

He wasn’t the best lover. He could do the trick every once in a while. He was always fun. He might have made her come tonight. She didn’t even know if she faked it or not. It was like she had lost her hold on the orgasm. Maybe it happened. It was warm and wet, whatever it was, but she wanted Geoff to know how much he meant more than she wanted that orgasm, so she moaned and moved, squeezed him and squeaked and gasped. Maybe she did come.

She thought she’d given all that up—all her old badness. The things from the past, the things that made—

Geoff’s phone rang, its antique phone sound coming from the bedside table. She knew who it was.

Geoff grunted and climbed over her and picked up his phone, looked at her, said, “It’s Ang.”

She didn’t know what to say. Geoff didn’t hesitate. He answered. She covered her mouth with her hands and listened as he kneeled on the bed with the phone pressed to his cheek, wearing just a T-shirt and his junk hanging between his legs below it.

“Yeah? Yeah . . . She’s here . . . She’s here, she’s safe, she’s fine. She just got home . . . I know.” He listened for a long moment, looked down at her and smiled. Then: “I don’t know how you could be so mean to her . . . Uh-huh, she’s your friend . . . She’s so upset. How could you do that? It’s Nia. She was talking to him. What do you think she was doing? She’s my wife, I know her, she didn’t do anything . . . She took a cab all the way home . . . You ever ask her if she wanted him in there? . . . Ever ask her if maybe she needed help? . . . No, she’s fine. She didn’t have a good night and you two should have helped her instead of . . . Uh-huh, instead of hurting her . . . No, she doesn’t want to talk right now . . . It’s late, Ang. Right, right, I know, I love you too . . . Yes, I’ll tell her.” He hung up.

Geoff put his phone down on the pillow. “I think the tables have turned.” He lowered next to her, and she put her hands on his bearded cheeks and didn’t know what to say. Geoff always made everything better. She needed him. He always made her feel good, always made her feel right. He was the best.

Geoff put his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. He sighed, and she tucked her head up under his chin and scratched his chest lightly with her nails. She closed her eyes and wanted to fall asleep with him like this. Geoff’s breath turned to a light snore, but she just couldn’t sleep.

She was going to fuck Rocco. She was going to fuck him in Montreal, and she couldn’t wait.