Cat and Mouse

Then it struck me, an ogre, that's exactly what he was! She was being ravished, and she was setting her man up to save her from the clutches of the monstrous piece of shit. That's where her clever little heart had lead us. She'd invited savagery in hopes of a gallant reclaiming. I stood up, and the rage in me ceased. I was calm inside, in control again, and I marched into the living room and announced, "Alright, enough!"

They stopped almost immediately, and took notice of me fully clothed and studying them with contemptuous eyes. Ellie appeared worried, almost scared, and I said, "Are you OK?"

She dropped her head, and laughed in relief, then came up, "I'm fine, Pete. But sweetie why are you dressed?" Then back to John, who'd stopped plugging away, but was still jammed inside her, "Are you almost there?"

"Real close! Like seconds away."

"Just a few seconds more, Pete. Please, undress. Come join in again. Bring Ali to me."

A vision flashed in my head of what the next few seconds would bring, and I saw John clutching her ass tightly, splitting her in two, as he unloaded his balls deep deep inside, and a fierce expression ran rampant over his face. The very thought of it sucked the air out of me, and I threw up my hands in front of my face, like I was trying to block them out of existence, then I just backed up towards our bedroom again. I could've hurt them both at that point, and that was scary.

John pulled away form her too, and said "Dude, I'm bailing, I'm totally sorry. I'm totally fucking sorry."

Ellie got to her knees, covering her tits with her hands, and said to me, "No Pete. Sweetie, no, please!"

He left quickly, and Ellie came after me. My heart was cold and numb, and she wanted to sooth me, cuddle me, kiss me, but I had nothing. Eventually I climbed into bed, because I was exhausted, and I just laid there flat on my back with her clutching onto my side and stroking my chest.

"I know your upset, babe. Please don't be mad. Please!"

"If you knew, then why?"

"You kept telling me it was OK."

"Why was there a guy fucking you in our apartment?"

"It wasn't like that. Don't make it sound like that. I don't know why. But it wasn't like that."

"Well, why then when you knew I was upset didn't you stop?"

"Because it would have been weird. And at first you seemed OK, and then I guess I just hoped you'd come back around. I gotta work with John tomorrow, and now it's going to be really, really awkward and weird. I just hoping it wouldn't have to be like that."

"You came, I saw you."

"It was sex, Pete. I was still trying to make it work for all of us. I was trying to let go, hoping you'd follow. I was trying not to let it get weird."

I was just too tired to fight her, and her sweet voice, low for a female's, too full of sultry emotion, and the effect of her gentle hands washing over my chest, did soothe me in the end. Actually, it wasn't just her touch and talk that brought me out of it, I'd also allowed my mind to escape from what had just happened and found solace in a vision that just popped up like a fox peeking its head out of the snow. And the fox hadn't been Ellie.

Asian pussy is something to behold, and I can now attest to all the hype surrounding it. Toni knew how to stick her ass up really high, that small perfect boxy pelvis that seemed to perpetuate youth, and I rolled up on it in fourth gear, causing some serious hip smacking, cock stuffing, snatch attacking calamity. She knew what I liked and she craved this boy's cream of meat. With an almost dove like quiver in her voice, she asked for more ––begged for it––with her cheek flat against the bouncing bed and her shoulders flat against it, too. She had skinny thighs, and they were absolutely vertical with her knees at the edge of the bed, so her calves and feet hung over, that being the only way her ass could reach me while I stood on the floor and slammed into her. I was messing up that girl's bouquet of cherry blossoms. I came down on her like a kamikaze pilot, not easing off in the slightest, and crashed into her lower deck, shouting, "NO FUCKING MERCY!" My American beef barged its way clean through her soup cup of gyoza. My Louisville Slugger was jammed into a sheath meant for thin little samurai swords. I'd drilled me a hole so deep I'd come up in Japan!

I was wearing myself out and she'd absorbed nearly fifteen straight minutes of this Sherman tank versus Hello-Kitty style of fucking. To say she was a trooper about the onslaught would be the understatement of the year. I pulled out, exhausted, unable to cum for a third time, and threw myself on the bed beside her.

"Gimmie a minute," I said. She crawled further up the bed, whispering that she loved me inside her, and then lifted a thigh over my head and set it down on the other side so that her imported jasmine filled teapot smothered my mouth. I was gaga for her glowing geisha face and I was googoo go for her glistening geisha gash, yet I questioned what the hell I was doing.

I thought that after what Ellie had done, taking a lover of my own wouldn't mean a thing, but I was a dumbass, and Ellie made me pay a price for it, and now it was hard to enjoy sex with Toni in anyway other than using her as an outlet for my current frustrations with woman.

Toni didn't seem to mind, however. She gagged on my frustrations, washed my frustrations out of her bleached red hair, cleaned them off her tits, ass, tummy and even her feet. In twelve days time I'd drowned a ton of frustration in that pretty slick snatch and even left one load in her youthful little ass. And she welcomed every drop, like some nymphomaniacal martyr. As I ate her out I thought about all my cum swimming about inside her. She'd swallowed a load almost everyday, and I hadn't worn a rubber during sex, so adding the loads she swallowed to the ton of cum I pumped into her snatch, one-percent of her tiny body mass must have been comprised of my cum. The thought had made eating her a tad unpleasant, and I pushed her gently off me. It wasn't the cum itself, it was how carelessly and unsympathetically I'd deposited it. More than anything, I was sickened by my behavior.

"Hey babe, can I ask you something?"

"Uh oh! You'd rather talk than eat pussy; now I'm worried."

"Ha ha! Man you are something else. Alright, here it goes: the week after the party we had lunch, and I'd sort of leaked that one of my fantasies was a threesome––you knew where I was going with that, right?"

"I'm not stupid, of course I knew."

"Well, you gave me the feeling that you might be interested in, you know, being apart of that"

"Did I?"

"Yeah, you did. But then you were also considering dating John, right?"

"Hey, don't tell me you're jealous."

"No. No, it's not that. It's just that I can't figure out why Ellie brought John home."

"Oh god! So this is all about Ellie."

"Sort of. But it's more about you."

"Well let's hear that part."

"OK. See, I think the only reason she had John over was so that it would some how interfere with you and John seeing anymore of each other."

"Oh, you mean like how she went and told everyone that she'd fucked John so I'd end up hearing about it?"

"She told everyone?"

"Someone did. I heard about it, didn't I?"

I had to think about that for a second.

"What is this?" she asked, "Why are you getting all Colombo with me? Are you somehow blaming me for your affair?"

"No. I mean, I did what I did. But things did kind of work out in your favor."

"Ha. Wow! OK, so you think that somehow I tricked Ellie into inviting John over for a threesome with you guys by pretending to like John. Right? And I did this because I knew it would drive you crazy and you'd come to me and get even, or something like that, and then after we'd fucked, I knew you'd feel so guilty about it, that you'd go to her, confess everything, and get thrown out on your ass. And, I did all this because eight years ago I fucked her boyfriend and then she fucked mine, and we still can't get over it to this day. If that is really what you are trying to imply, then all I have to say is the bitch deserved it."

"You fucked her boyfriend?"

"I did!"

"Who was he?"

"Robert."

"Robert? The pretty boy on a Harley?"

"So you ask me who her boyfriend was but you don't ask me who mine was. Why are you only concerned about her boyfriend?"

"Wait, I can't believe you both fucked Robert. What in the world am I missing about that guy?"

"He was Danny Zukko when we performed Grease. All the girls wanted him after that."

"Un-fucking-believable!"

I started laughing uncontrollably. She started to get pissed, but I really couldn't stop. Finally she yelled, "Shut up, it's not that funny," but then even she began to giggle about it, and then hit me lightly with a pillow.

"Oh, it is funny! My marriage is over because of Danny Zukko!"

We finally settled down and she said, "Now listen, you can either keep talking right now, and I might get so bored that I'll go into the other room, turn on the TV and eat a bowl of popcorn, or you can put that mouth to some real use."

She started to raise her leg over me and I stopped her. "OK, just one last thing."

"God! What?"

"Does this feel real to you?"

"Real?"

"I mean, if Ellie was never my wife, would we be here?"

"Jesus! Listen, I slept with six guys out in LA, all six said they could get me a job in acting, all six lied. I broke up with Rico because he was sleeping with a director's assistant, who, coincidently, gave him his first break. Sex is never real! Gullible people who get all misty eyed over it just can't see the price. Now what is real is my pussy, so maybe you should try arguing with that for awhile."

She raised her leg fast and was bringing her snatch over my face when I spanked her ass and tackled her down on the bed. I got her on all fours and good ole Alikabobi broke into her luxurious temple to practice a little kung fu. Then she said in a jerky voice, "No matter how hard you fuck me, Pete, you'll still have fucked Ellie harder. And that makes me so horny I think I'm going to cummmoooi, oi, oi…"

At that point I don't even think I liked Toni much, but that was no excuse not to fuck the shit out of her. Bam, bam, bam, I went, and "oi, oi, oi" came her dove like whimpers. Each of my fingers squeezed their own deep dimple into her ass cheeks as I spread them apart to breech the cradle of hot sake lodged between them. I pulled out, only to have my muscled Mafioso crash through her Yakuza stronghold, once more. I retreated momentarily and then tore into her dynasty like an ogre hell bent on…

And there it was, the truth flashing up in my own perverted interior monologue; I was now the goddamned ogre. I was ravishing the shit out of this girl. I'd zeroed her out in my mind, and realizing it now, I started to slow down on the high powered fucking. I had no idea what to do after that. I couldn't continue, it just didn't feel right, but I then what could I say? I finally summoned the ogre for one last mission, there was just no other way, and said, "I can't do this, I can't be the Godzilla to your buttery Tokyo, anymore." Mind you, I was still balls deep.

She looked back over her shoulder. She wasn't hurt, she was angry. "What was that? You can't be a what to my what?"

"I… uh… it's just sexy talk?"

"Sexy talk?" "What kind of sexy talk was that?"

I couldn't think of anything to say, and I kneeled there silent with my dick snuggly buried in her heated snatch, sensing her getting angrier by the second. Finally she yelled, "You know what? Yeah, I liked to be fucked, and I like to be fucked hard, and I like to be told how hard I'm being fucked, but I certainly don't need no fucking Godzilla to my fucking buttery Tokyo!" She pulled off my dick as the last word came out of her mouth, and then turned around and sat on the bed, still waiting for me to say something.

"I really didn't mean…" Then I stopped. What was the point? I was an ogre. There's no point in an ogre apologizing. I got up and left, getting dressed on my way to the door, and tripping into her lamp on my way through the living room.

"Oops, sorry!"

"Just get the fuck out!"

Ellie knew I was having an affair the day after it happened. She knew because I'd felt so bad about it that I'd confessed the whole damn thing. She was upset, not outraged, just upset, and we both decided it would be best if I moved out. Ellie knew I'd seen Toni again, but I never told her that I'd fucked the venomous tart non-stop for two weeks straight until we couldn't even stand each other. A few days after that I received a phone call from Ellie saying she'd found some more of my clothes stuffed in a drawer, and I felt incredible regret the instant I heard her voice.

I showed up at our old apartment on Saturday around eleven, knowing she'd worked the night before and usually slept in. I had to knock several times before I heard her sleepy voice ask me to hold on a second. I waited a few minutes more before she opened the door to reveal herself fully dressed in a tight baby-blue T-shirt and equally tight jeans. Even if she'd answered the door with a knife in her hand it would have been easier than seeing her completely dressed, because taking the time to put on clothes was a clear indicator that I just didn't belong there anymore. And three weeks was not enough time to forget her walking around in her panties and big T-shirt, her usual Saturday attire. Nor were three weeks enough time to forget how she'd wake up in the morning just long enough to give me a kiss and say something sweet, and even though her eyes wouldn't fully open, she'd smile as I neared her lips, and the kiss was deep, the kind that takes effort to break way from. Then at seven, when I'd get home, she'd be coming out of the shower with a towel around her waist and totally bared tits, and stayed like that, waiting to get dressed for work until after we'd eaten a quick dinner. It had been the single best part of my day, and it was gone in a mere three weeks time.

"Come in, I just need to get the box from the bedroom."

I stepped in and saw her clothes strewn all over the floor, and said, "I think you messed up, these aren't my clothes."

"Smart ass," she mumbled, walking towards the bedroom. Her eyes were discolored and her lack of expression made her face seem heavier, and then she said, "Sorry I took so long to answer the door, I was drinking with John last night and I'm paying for it this morning."

"How do you two do it? How do manage to drink so much and still work?"

"Ha, we only get started at work. The real damage is done after we close, at the Fridays across the street."

"So you've started drinking after work?"

"You sound concerned," she said, speaking from the bedroom, "He's actually been helping me work on some stuff. But which is it, John or the drinking you're really worried about?"

"Hey, I'm not worried about either."

"Goo!. If you had been, though, then you would be happy to know that the drinking is over. John decided he'd try a cold turkey approach and I'm supposed to be his support. Which I guess means I'm calling it quits myself, at least for awhile. So last night was our final little tryst with the evil stuff."

While she was in the bedroom I'd noticed her black dress in a pile next to the sofa, the same dress she'd worn on our fourth anniversary, the one I'd watched her try on in the boutique a few years ago. It looked smaller than ever, but it was not my concern, not anymore. Near the kitchen were her red cowboy boots, stacked up like she'd kicked them off and flung them against the island counter. She'd always considered her cowboy boots bad news, since she'd only had wild regrettable experiences wearing them out, and I admit, the sight of them did concerned me. In fact, the dress actually had too. It all had. I admit it.

Then I noticed papers scattered about the table and went over to see what they were. She came back into the room with a cardboard box in her arms and said, can you peek through here and make sure everything is yours."

Was she actually serious? Were we really separated long enough for her to have another guy's clothes lying around? I set the box on a dining chair and started to rummage through it, and asked, "Is this your play on the table?"

"The end of it, yeah."

It was a ton of little wallet sized notebook papers laid out in rows. She must have written them all at work, or maybe at TGI Fridays.

"The whole thing? It's complete?"

"Yeah. That's what John's been helping me with."

"So how does it end?"

"They're in order. It starts here."

"Am I allowed to read it?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure you're going to like it."

She was wrong, though. She'd explained that she completely reworked the whole play, and at its center was now a tale of rivals and how the lead lost everything that mattered as a result of the rivalry. I had to smile when she said that.

"Don't laugh. It's a tragic play. She decides to let it all go at the end, basically ending all this," she waved her hand over all the bits of paper, "And then she decides to start something completely new."

"So you end it with a beginning, that's not tragic."

"It's a little tragic."

"So, no John either?"

"I knew you were worried about John. No, there's no John either." She started to walk towards the kitchen. "Hey, I'm going to make some coffee. Want some before you go?"

"Actually, yeah, I could use a cup. That's too bad about John. It would've made a good ending."

"It would have made a lousy ending. By the way, he feels horrible about everything."

"John's alright. He shouldn't feel bad about anything."

"That's what I keep telling him."

I finished searching the box and the clothes were all mine, just as I'd figured, and set it on the ground. She was still in the kitchen so I began to read the play.

"Hey, this asshole in your play cheats on the star."

"Yes he does!"

"People aren't going to like him much, I guess."

"I don't know. His wife might have deserved it. So how is Toni?"

I stopped reading and caught her eye in the kitchen. "There never was a Toni, just a bad mistake."

She laughed, "That line is so going into my play."

"Don't even dare," I said, but she'd already pulled a notepad out of her back pocket and was writing it down. "I thought you said it ends with you losing everything and prepared to move on? How are you going to fit that in?"

"Well, I haven't actually typed it out on the computer yet, have I?"

"Then I have an even better idea for an ending."

"Oh god! That's something a person would say in hopes of reconciliation."

"What if the husband comes over and they start arguing? And then he initiates the house rule on arguing and they get busy stripping. Or is that even in the play, the part about the house rule?"

"It's in there."

"So there's nudity in this play?"

"Not if I'm staring in it. But maybe the couple doesn't argue at the end. Maybe they just sort of get naked because they are, hrm… in love?"

"Hey, I like that! Maybe it can go right here," I said, pointing randomly to a row of the tiny paper. When she came into the room I directed her to one of the pages, and then proceeded to get behind her and kiss her neck. Her hair had grown some and I swept it upwards with my thumb to plant a kiss right at her hairline, and she sighed and said, "Are we really going to do this? Are you sure this is what you want?"

My kisses moved to her jaw and then around to her cheek. She turned then to face me, and our lips met and then our tongues, and we quickly found ourselves in a fevered deep kiss. She held my shoulders while I held her waist with one arm and slid a hand into her hair. I tugged her shirt upwards, and then broke our kiss to lift it over her head. Kneeling, I pressed my cheek to her breast, so my tongue could couple with her nipple. I stroked her back, and then added pressure with my palm, pulling her harder into me, my face smashing her tit and my mouth opening to suck in the whole areola and surrounding flesh.