DEVIL IN THE WATERS // 9.003

Josh trembled, too frightened to answer. But then he spoke, voice dry and cracking. “It’s because you brought it up in front of him. Brought up Devlin’s penis size. Tony thinks you’re cheating on me and you’re in that thrilling part of a relationship where you’re obsessing over your partner’s sexuality.” With the words out in the air, his brows raised high, disbelieving he’d said them. They’d come out of nowhere, bubbled up out of jagged cracks in his stony core. The idea was sick and awful, but terribly exciting. He was driven out of his mind by the idea of black betrayal, devious sex and Kimmy's desire. The words were sickness, oozing out of those subconscious cracks like pus from an abscess.

And Devlin was the injury.

If he ever wondered where the hell these ideas came from, the undeniable truth was a poisonous thorn pierced his past. It was imbedded in his psyche. And around that thorny invasion, his immune system went wild, fighting the noxious intrusion, doing its best to keep old Josh Waters alive and functioning. But the thorn remained stuck. If the thorn wasn’t removed, the pus would continue to ooze.

The whole while he struggled with this contemplation, this awful supposition, Kimmy sucked his cock and he caressed her narrow back. His thumb stroked her thin neck, his fingers wove through her pulled-back hair, just under the braided bun. The idea Kimmy would give him a lunch time blow job was outrageous. Not the Kimmy of recent weeks, of course, but this was the same Kimmy he’d known for years—one who previously would have never thought to have sex outside of nighttime and in the safety of their own apartment with the door closed. Kimmy’s core seemed to have its own cracks. And just like him, Devlin Stone was the impetus. Devlin had imbedded in Kimmy somehow. That whole thing with Kimmy running away from a threesome because she was a meek and smart student who walked into a sex trap might have lasting psychological implications his wife was working out right now. Working it out with him. Sharing in their secret miseries and enjoying a period of extreme sexuality and wanton experimentation. The idea of their mutual torture and simultaneous enjoyment had his cock surging. Already hard as a rock, he could feel it swell even wider, to the point of discomfort. His ass muscles flexed and turned his cock to steel in Kimmy’s mouth.

He said, “Tony thinks Devlin’s big cock is all you can think of. He thinks you’re a dirty cock slut with one thing on her mind: getting reamed by Devlin Stone’s giant dick. And you can’t stop thinking about it and talking about it, even if it’s in front of your husband.”

Kimmy loved it. The tight ring of her lips squeezed around his shaft bobbed up and down with sweet liquid ease. But her mouth slipped off him, making his knees rise, and she backhanded saliva from her pouted lips. There was a wildness in her eyes. “You have to fuck me, Josh,” she whispered before her mouth went over his. Her kiss was wet and sloppy, her lips full and engorged from sucking his cock.

His kiss pulled back, arms going around her as she kneeled at his side on the passenger seat. “Where?”

Kimmy looked desperate, head spinning, looking out the back window and the sides. “Come on in the back.”

Kimmy went first, squeezing through the front seats. As she removed her suit jacket back there, he did the same in the driver’s seat. With his jacket off and his tie unthreaded, he scrambled between the seats to join her. Someone passed by the trunk and he froze. Kimmy knew why he did and she ducked down. Josh pretended to sort through packages in the backseat until the coast was clear. Then he got into the back, climbed over Kimmy, and put his lips on hers. Her nails scratched his back as they kissed and he humped his cock between her legs.

“Don’t dirty my pants,” she gasped, pushing him back, fingers working furiously now to undo the top button. She got them unzipped, kicked off her heels, and shimmied the pants down her long legs. He kissed her stomach and her thighs as she did. With the pants off, Kimmy was bare from the waist down except for a pair of sexy flower-embroidered panties. Not the panties a wife would wear to work. The panties a woman wore when she thought she might get lucky. They were a rosy pink, the side straps were doubled—two sexy lines of rosy cord sweeping over her hips on both sides, a spray of summer flowers framing the shape of her crotch. The gusset was satin, but stopped low, the fabric above a screen of see-through pink that showed the skin right above her pussy. His heart thudded at the sight and he knew right away what to say.

“You wore those for Devlin?”

Kimmy smiled devilishly, eyeing him while unbuttoning the silk black dress shirt she wore, button by button, revealing her taut, toned midsection. She ran her tongue over her wet lower lip and said, “They’re his favorite.”

“Oh fuck, Kimmy,” Josh gasped, feeling a racy thrill swoop through his chest that reminded him of the rollercoaster at Canada’s Wonderland. “You wore them for him?”

“Take them off, Josh. Take off Devlin’s favorites.”

Josh lowered his lips to kiss Kimmy below her navel. His fingers slipped under the panties’ waistband and slid them downward. Kimmy writhed below him. As he slid the panties off, his kisses traveled her thighs to her knees. He held up her panties on one finger. “You wouldn’t wear these for your husband.”

Kimmy shook her head no, eyes looking up at him from under her brows and the glossy fringe of her jet-black bangs. Her knees parted and exposed her pussy to him. Even in the low light, he could see the shine on her petals.

And Kimmy wanted a cock so bad, before he even had the chance to lower his mouth to suckle her dew—which was his whole-hearted intention—she was flipping over. Sex face to face would have proved awkward in the cabin of the Qashqai, but it was the perfect situation to take Kimmy from the back. With her eager rump pressed toward him, his wife’s black-clad back slinking snake-like, he worked open his belt. His phone rang. He got the belt undone and shoved a hand in his pocket to retrieve his phone. “Shit,” he hissed. It was Samara, calling from work. He let it go unanswered and tossed his phone onto the driver’s seat, returning his attention to his horny wife.

Kimmy said, “What’s taking so long?” Still swaying her rump at him.

“Devlin gets right to it, huh?”

“He doesn’t mess around. He knows what he wants, and he takes it.”

Josh swatted her bottom, and Kimmy hissed. A blushing handprint rose on her ass like a mirage. What the hell was happening to their sex-life? What the hell was happening to their everyday life? Since Devlin came along, only good things had come their way. He’d let a patina form on the surface of his hurt, an armor against further hurt. But it had left him sour and unforgiving, and the victim of his own roiling resentment. Kimmy had polished his surface, brought back its shine, let him glow like brand new copper revealed to the sun. It exposed him to new hurt, but he was a bigger boy now and he had Kimmy at his side, and this new shining surface was thirsty for pleasure.

With his pants falling to his knees, he curled over Kimmy and pushed his stony rod into his wife. He slipped into her soft, wet interior with ease. He was hard, and she was swollen and wet and eager to receive him. He whispered in her ear, “Where do you guys meet?”

Kimmy moaned a tremulous sound, aroused out of her mind by their terrifying dirty talk. “His apartment. We meet at lunch every day.”

“God, that’s so real,” he moaned, his mind rolling backward like a heavy cart pushed uphill by an inattentive driver. It was so real. Devlin had an apartment near the office. A fuck shack. Kimmy could go there and meet with Devlin and cheat on her husband. He could imagine Kimmy laid out satisfied and big-dick broken, naked on Devlin’s bed amidst a mountain range of tangled, semen-soaked white cotton.

“You’re getting second best today. You’re fucking your husband at lunch.”

“Mm,” she moaned, hips and rump gyrating against his steady thrusting. “It’ll make tomorrow more exciting.”

“Do you even eat, or do you just fuck him?”

“Both. Sometimes just fuck. And we do other things, too.”

“Like what?” His voice had tightened. This line of fantasy was running a slippery line along his most thrilling trail.

“He ties me up. He fucks me blindfolded. He eats my pussy so good, and oh, I love when he comes in my mouth.”

“Jesus, Kimmy,” he groaned, mind blotting out and his cock flexing inside his wife. Kimmy felt it and moaned with renewed excitement.

“It’s my favorite part of the day. I can’t wait to get into his bed and feel his hands on me, feel his body against mine—”

Josh grunted and shuddered, his stroke pistoning quicker and more urgently. His scalp tightened as his wife tempted him with darker fantasies than he could have expected.

And Kimmy loved the harder fucking. She broke off her dirty talk and made squeaks and grunts as he fucked her like he wanted to punish her. And in the back of his mind, this was the way Devlin fucked her. Like a pro. Like a man. He pictured Kimmy now through Devlin’s eyes. Her profile with her eyes closed, her perfect hair pulled back to reveal her flawless porcelain face; the narrow, lithe body, the long-fingered hands clutching the seat back; the exposed ass, his cock going in and out of her pussy; her little star point winking every time he pushed his cock deep inside her.

His hand stroked up the silk shirt and squeezed her skinny neck, holding her in place so he could pound his wife’s pussy thinking of another man doing it, thinking of the sounds she made right now being provoked at the thrusting of Devlin’s enormous cock. He wanted more from her. Needed more.

“Does he come inside you when he fucks you?” He grunted the question like an animal, his neck bulging, his jaw clamped down like a vise. “Do you beg him to come inside you?”

“He comes so deep inside me, Josh. He tilts my pelvis in this crazy way, and I can feel his cock head like it’s in my stomach, and it flexes, and he roars, Josh, and I can feel his come jetting inside me—”

Now it was Josh roaring, letting loose the way he imagined Devlin would if he fucked Kimmy. And Kimmy wailed with excitement and pleasure and he could feel her fingers mashing at the underside of their union, his wife wringing on her own clit, trying to bring an orgasm. He bucked inside her, thinking how shallow he would be compared to Devlin Stone—and riding that sick thrill as he orgasmed stretched the enjoyment out for a full minute as his cock continued to twitch and jerk and pulse inside his wife. Kimmy mewled like a cat and twisted with his cock buried inside her, her face contorted as she came and he watched her closed-eye beauty, knowing behind those eyes—as much as he hated it—Kimmy was thinking of Devlin right now. It tickled his heart and his cock at the same time. Kimmy had seen Devlin’s big, flaccid horse dick on the beach in Cayman and she could play that little movie-memory behind her eyes as she came. It was okay. It was fine with him. They were doing this together.

His whole body jolted as he pulled his sensitive cock out of her and the shuddering whimper he emitted got them both chuckling. Kimmy smiled now, eyes still closed, her rump pushed out to him and her fingers still rolling against her clitoris. He sat aside of her on the bench, panting and watching his stomach heave in and out. What a crazy day. At breakfast she’d told him to meet her for lunch downtown and he said sure and asked her why and she said you should get a new suit. He’d groaned and complained and she’d persisted and he’d shown up. Next thing, Kimmy’s buying him a seven-thousand dollar suit, she’s zinging him with sexual innuendo meant for his pleasure, the tailor is saying how his body was meant to show off good clothing, and then in the car his wife goes down on him, begs him to fuck her, and then tells him a dirty story so lubricious his head shot off to Mars when he came.

His panting became chuckling, and he spanked Kimmy’s ass. It was right next to him, pushing into his side of the car. She laughed and moaned and gradually sank to rest on her side.

“I’m going to need some napkins, Josh,” she said, amusement and lust in her voice.

“Sure thing,” he said, breathless, heaving up to squeeze between the seats and click open the glove box. He grabbed a wad of saved fast food napkins and his phone, and hauled his exhausted ass back into the rear with Kimmy. He took two napkins for himself and then gave the remaining wad to Kimmy. She pulled off a few and tucked them between her legs, rolling toward him so she could sit on her butt.

Her head lolled his way and when their eyes met, they both laughed out loud. Kimmy’s hand left the wadded napkins bunched at her crotch and took his hand. He scissored her fingers between his.

“You made me feel like a million bucks today,” he said.

“You didn’t do too bad yourself,” she said, which he took to mean she enjoyed the surprise midday car sex.

He sighed with great exaggerated content and tilted his phone toward him. Somewhere during his powerful orgasm, he’d been aware a text had chimed following the missed phone call.

“Shit,” he sighed, reading the screen.

A text from Samara.

Samara: Where are you? You better get back here. Harmeet is looking for you

Kimmy said, “What is it?”

“Don’t know,” he said, a sinking feeling in his belly now. “Trouble at the office.”