Pissed off with Jeff

I have a huge one as I gnaw my lower lip, and force my eyes to stay open, and no expression at all to dare to flit, even momentarily onto my face, as all the while Jeff, my klutz of a husband, and Frith, this lunk-head whose distressingly large, and hard, penis is currently doing baby-making things in my vagina – and it is doing everything to encourage it. Glover, the so called boss, is standing to one side (but looking at me strangely) looking on, saying nothing, letting his assistant take the stage while his assistant is rubbishing the oft-held theory that men can't multi-task. This guy is doing two things pretty damn well. Jeff is fascinated. I am getting fucked!

I start to gasp, and buck.

(Glover is definitely frowning at me now.) As if this is all my fault. As if I should be standing quietly by as he prepares to fuck my husband over, and his partner gets over fucking me. (I'm sure he knows what Frith is doing. What I am doing. What we are doing.) It is the way he's turned away and has taken my husband by the elbow, and is directing my husband's attention to something beyond the damn pond. I am beyond caring, for I am about to come again. And I do, with both hands grasped around the window sill, hanging on for dear life while forcing myself hard into his thrusts. Helping him go DEEP! His thighs against my butt, his hands around my hips, his fingers scrabbling wildly at my flesh. As the two below turn away his face turns to mine and he kisses my cheek. I want to say to stop it, but don't. I can't. I lake the resolve. The next time he does it, we steal a frantic kiss. The third time his tongue is in my mouth. The danger inherent in this sets me off again. It snaps at my innards like tweezers with a current of electricity, ripping through me in a flash, making me cry out, grasping the window frame so hard it snaps a nail.

"Honey," Jeff calls.

"Yeh!" I holler back, excitement and horror sharpening my response.

"You fine?"

"Great," I shout back, then, "My bag has fallen."

Why I say that, I have no idea. But I had to. I had to get away from the window. To get away from the gaze of those in the garden. My husband and that knowing-look of Glover's.

We finished what we'd started, Frith and I, on the bed. The odious ox came, when he came, like a runaway steam-train. No piston worked harder, or faster, (or better,) so obviously his diet wasn't all bad. He took me, as his steam train hit the summit, to yet another mind-blowing orgasm. Then there were sounds from downstairs. Back door closing. Steps across the kitchen. I was chivvied to the bathroom off the bedroom. I would have preferred to catch my breath, rest my aching muscles, cool my burning skin, dry out inside, a tad, but that was not to be. I was roughly chivvied off the bed. I let myself be rushed, for I too had heard footsteps on the stairs. I went into the bathroom, locked the door. Straightened some tendrils of sweat plastered hair from my cheek. A knock on the door.

Shit!

I opened it a crack. It was Frith, passing me my panties and a shoe. I took them in and locked the door again. Voices the other side of the door. Glover sounding pissed, Jeffrey sounding curious. But I didn't want to know.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Dishevelled, flushed, out of breath, heavy-lidded, chest heaving, half naked. Is this what you do when you're pissed at your husband? Or bored? Or is it for fun? I flushed the toilet. I stroked one or two excited bits of me, wondering when they would quieten. Not yet, that was clear. I did it again with my eyes closed. And again. May have sighed. I turned on the tap. The hot one. Let it run. No hot water, only cold. I ran my fingers under it. Stroked cooling water on a nipple. Then the other one. Getting myself back to earth, clearing the fields of appearance, softening the reaction from the most body-binding ... mind-numbing ... sexual bout I'd ever had!

We didn't buy the house. But Dick Glover and Ted Frith of Glover and Glover Real Estate showed us more. Quite a number more.

I seem to be pissed of with Jeff a lot these days.