Silence; or, The Bet

He got up from his barstool, left a few bucks, and drove home. Sheryl looked up from the TV in surprise--it was only 9:30--but didn't say anything. Marc searched out the kids. He talked with Jeff about geometry homework for a few minutes, helped him with the problems, then went and found Allie who was writing a paper, swaying to the music coming in through her ear buds. He gave her a smile and a quick kiss and headed for his study.

At 11:00 he checked that both the kids' lights were out, then went upstairs to the bedroom. Sheryl was sitting up in bed reading; she smiled at him when he came in. Marc brushed his teeth, then came back into the bedroom and took all his clothes off, slowly, letting Sheryl see him.

He sat down naked on his side and spread his legs, the way he'd done before, inviting her to come suck his cock. She looked at him, considering, and then put her book down, came around to his side, kneeled down and began working on him. Lovingly, patiently. Watching him.

Marc let himself groan with the pleasure. His sex drive had been turned off for so long, after her adultery. Now, in the last ten days, since the first blowjob, he was like a teenager again, constantly horny.

Sheryl worked on him steadily, assuming that he'd want to come in her mouth again. But when he was hard as a rock he stopped her, reaching for her shoulder. She lifted her mouth off him, surprised, and he gently pulled her up onto the bed. Without a word he drew her nightie up over her head, then moved her onto her back.

Then Marc took her. Carefully, not frighteningly, but decisively. His hands were all over her, caressing, and his mouth teased and bit her nipples and his fingers sought out her pussy lips and her clit. She was very wet, and she groaned as he touched her.

He pushed her legs apart and climbed between them, his cock hot and eager, and he slid into her, making her sigh. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down to her, reveling in his weight; and he buried his face in her neck and humped her hard.

They fucked each other that way, fast, intense, building up to it. She was so excited that her climax came in no time and she cried out, trying not to be too loud and let the kids hear her. Marc didn't stop, just gave in to his own excitement and need, kept plunging into her, and a couple of minutes later he groaned over and over as he shot into her, squeezing her almost breathless with his arms around her, thrusting again and again, as far into her as he could get.

They lay still, relaxed, and Sheryl kissed him, his cheek, his hair, his neck, wherever she could reach, little gentle kisses. After a couple of minutes he rolled off her, reached to turn out the lights, and then took her back into his arms, holding her close to him, side by side, listening to each other's breathing.

Sheryl was relaxed, and incredibly happy. After some time she began to drift off to sleep, smiling, feeling him against her. Then she became aware that Marc's body was shaking, jerking; that he was crying, silently at first and then audibly, sobbing.

"You hurt me so bad!" he said quietly, crying, almost like he didn't want her to hear him. "It hurt me so bad, what you did!"

Stunned, Sheryl started to cry. "I'm sorry, baby! I'm so sorry!" she whispered to him, over and over, stroking him with her arms, feeling his tears wetting her neck. "I'm so sorry!"

They cried together. Marc tried to pull away but she wouldn't let go, and he gave in, sobbing against her until finally he grew quiet. A long time after that, they slept.

******************

"It's just embarrassing, you know?" Marc wasn't looking at Fisher; he was standing, looking out of the doctor's window.

"That you cried? I don't see why. She hurt you, badly. It was an awful thing she did, Marc. You were angry, but you were hurt too. I'm sure I would have cried, if it had been me."

Marc paced. "I mean, I love her--I know that, and I know she loves me. And she's sorry. And she's been really patient with me, taken this silence thing for a long time now.

"It's just ... I don't know, exactly."

"You need ... revenge?" Dr. Fisher asked.

"No, not exactly, but ... something. Closure. I don't know. Something has to happen, something more, between us. I've thought about going out and fucking somebody, just so she could see what it feels like--but my heart isn't in it.

"I'm just going to have to keep thinking about it."

"That seems reasonable," the doctor said. "There's no hurry--she isn't going anywhere. I see her every week too, Marc. She is desperate to have you back, desperate to make this up to you somehow."

******************

After that first night of sex, Sheryl and Marc were all over each other. For nearly a week they fucked every night, wildly; and a couple of mornings they waited until Allie and Jeff left for school, then raced back upstairs into bed.

Mostly it wasn't love-making--just hard sex, raw, like two teenagers, or like a couple just reunited after a long separation. A few times, though, it was more relaxed. On Saturday night when both the kids were out they lay in bed with the radio on and fed each other strawberries with whipped cream, drank champagne, played and fooled around. Laughing, putting whipped cream on each other. Then they made love slowly, looking at each other, kissing a lot.

And when they were done, and cleaned up, and ready to sleep, Sheryl pulled Marc into her arms and held him as tightly as she could, squeezing him against her with all her strength. He found himself hoping that she wouldn't say anything--and she didn't, just hugged him and hugged him without a word.

The next morning they had a serious talk after the kids left for school.

******************

Sheryl stayed late at work on a Wednesday, and at about 6:50 she strolled down to find Doris Schwartz, the office manager.

"Hey Sheryl, what's up? You're here kind of late."

"Hi Doris--yeah, Marc and the kids are out tonight so I've been trying to catch up a little."

They chatted idly for a couple of minutes and then Sheryl said, "listen, I left a copy of a report I need for tomorrow in Anthony's office, would you mind letting me borrow the key?"

"Sure," Doris replied, searching in her desk. "But I need to get going--how about if you give it back to me tomorrow?"

"Perfect! Thanks, Doris."

Sheryl went back to her office and worked a little longer, until everyone had left. Then she sent a quick text message and went down to the main door of the building. Marc was waiting there and she let him in. Smiling at him, she led him back inside and upstairs to the locked door of Anthony's room where, using the key Doris had given her, she led Marc inside. They were there about ten minutes before they emerged. After Sheryl locked the door, she went back to her own office to get her things and they left the building.

******************

Anthony Prins was whistling as he strolled down the hall, around 8:45 on Thursday morning. As he approached his office door he was surprised to see it standing ajar. Cautiously he pushed it open, and was startled by what he saw.

More than a dozen ping-pong balls, crushed, lay in random locations around the floor of the room. Confused, Anthony stepped inside.

"Good morning, Anthony." He was startled to see Sheryl Zoumakis sitting at his desk, looking at him seriously. Standing next to her was a sandy-haired man with his arms folded and an equally serious expression.

"Sheryl, hi, uh, what's up?"

"Anthony, this is my husband Marc--he has something to say to you."

Instinctively Anthony took a step back, feeling extremely uneasy.

"Mr. Prins, I believe you owe my wife $1000." Marc said it in a cold voice. As he did so he picked up a ping-pong ball that was lying on the desk. It had been sliced open, and Marc pulled the shell of the ball apart to reveal a large magnet.

There was a very long silence. Finally, Anthony moved to the desk, watching Marc carefully and standing as far from him as possible. He took out his checkbook, wrote a check, and handed it to Sheryl. Then he moved back to the other side of the room.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes.

Sheryl and Marc went to the door. Just before they left Sheryl turned back and said, "Anthony, that was a really shitty thing to do." And she disappeared, pulling the door gently shut behind her.

******************

Now that they were talking again, they talked about it. Two long conversations on successive nights, getting it all out. What she'd done, how she'd felt, how he'd felt, how each of them felt now.

At times Marc was angry and bitter, not surprisingly. "Was he better than I am? He's a big, good-looking guy, Anthony. Did he drill you with that big fat cock and make you go crazy, til you were climbing the walls? Do you wish you could have him again?"

She said, "it was fun, Marc. You know me--I like sex. It was exciting being with someone new, and it was fun while I was doing it. But nothing special. He's not bigger than you, if it matters, and certainly not better. He was a horny guy fucking a woman he had the hots for."

"And you were a horny woman fucking a guy she had the hots for!"

After a moment she said, "yes. Yes I was, and I'm so sorry.

"But I'll tell you something." She looked up at him. "I never once thought about doing it again. Even before you found out, even before I realized ... how badly I'd screwed things up, I didn't have any plans to see Anthony again.

"And now, after everything ... to say that the price is too high doesn't begin to cover it. I'd sooner stick my hand down the garbage disposal and turn it on."

Marc shuddered. "Jesus, Sheryl."

"And you, Marc? Where are you now? Thank God you're talking to me, and ... well, we're fucking again. I don't know that ever I've come so many times in a week, not even on our honeymoon."

They smiled at each other, thinking about it.

"But I know you're not 'over it,' whatever that means, and I can hardly blame you.

"Do you want to go out and ... have sex with someone else?" she asked. She looked very uneasy, saying it.

"How would you feel about that?" he asked.

"I'd hate it. I'd probably sit at home and cry, and be scared, and feel insecure about my sagging tits and my cellulite thighs. And wonder what you'd do if you found that you liked it better with someone else."

He looked at her. "I've thought about it, you know." She stopped breathing. "I mean, every married guy thinks about it anyway, idly, just as a fantasy.

"You know Angela, from the office? She's always been a flirt--and since her divorce it's worse than ever. I sort of have the feeling that if I asked, she'd be up for it."

Now Sheryl felt her gut twisting. It was hard for her to sit still and listen. Angela couldn't be more than about 28, her tits were fantastic, and she had beautiful long legs.

"But ... y'know, in the end it's not what I want." Marc looked thoughtful. "I was tempted, just to hurt you, you know, make you go through what I went through? It would probably be hot, too.

"But I-- I guess I know it's just wrong, that's all. It was wrong when you did it, and it wouldn't be any less wrong if I did it.

"I even thought about faking it--staying out late one night, and coming home with my clothes rumpled and somebody's perfume smell on me. But it just seemed ... childish, you know? Playing some bullshit game like that just to make you miserable. How would that get us anywhere?"

Sheryl came and stood beside his chair, bending over and putting her arms around him. He could feel her trembling, and he pulled her onto his lap and let her cry on his shoulder.

When she was calmer she sat up, wiped her eyes, smiled, and gave him a big kiss, her arms around his neck.

He said, "but there is something I want to do--a ritual if you like, to, I don't know, mark the end of all this. Close the book.

"I was thinking about Saturday, because Jeff will be at an away game and Allie's got that amusement park trip."

He told her what he had in mind and Sheryl's eyes widened. But she listened in silence until he was done; and she sat and thought; and then she looked at him and said, "okay, Marc," and gave him a quick kiss.

******************

He was sitting on the bed when she came into the room. He looked serious, intent. One of the kitchen chairs sat in the middle of the room. She was wearing a skirt and a tee shirt.

Sheryl was nervous. She didn't like pain, had never been brave about it, and she knew what was coming. But she also knew why Marc wanted to do it.

Marc looked at her, then went and sat down on the chair. She started to approach him but he said, "take the skirt off first. And the panties."

When she was bare from the waist down she lay down across his lap, her hands and feet touching the floor. He pushed her tee shirt partway up her back, out of the way.

In a hard, almost metallic voice he said, "you cheated on me, on our marriage. You broke your vows to me, the vows you made before God and before everyone we knew, all our friends and family.

"You hurt me very much. You took away my trust in you and you made me doubt your love for me.

"And now I'm going to hurt you--punish you. And then we will be done with this. Then we can work on being husband and wife again."

He paused and took a deep breath. This might have been playful, a game between the two of them, but it wasn't. It was very serious. He could feel the tension in her body, and the fear.

He began to spank her, slowly and hard, a few smacks on each cheek before switching to the other. At first Sheryl was silent, then she started to emit tiny squeaks of pain with each blow.

Marc's hand began to sting and Sheryl's ass grew fiery red. She was making "oh" sounds now; and when he looked at her face he saw her eyes screwed tight shut, and tears on her cheeks. Her fists were clenched on the floor.

Finally he stopped. Sheryl was sobbing in pain, and maybe in fear. It wasn't like a sexy fantasy--he wasn't aroused at all. Marc gently lifted Sheryl up off his lap and stood up. There were tears on his face, too. Her sobs redoubled as he took her in his arms. She threw her arms around his shoulders and collapsed on him, weeping piteously as he held her up.

"I'm sorry," she cried out, "so sorry, Marc!" He held her and let her cry.

When Sheryl was calmer Marc led her to the bed and got her to lie face-down, her head on a pillow. Her crying had almost stopped. He went to the bathroom, returned with a bottle of aloe lotion, and sat on the bed next to her.

Sheryl's ass was bright red. He began spreading the aloe on her, very gently, beginning with her thighs below where he had spanked her, then slowly moving up over her bruised ass. She shrank away slightly at first, then relaxed, feeling him touch her as lightly as possible. After about five minutes he was finished, and Sheryl's body had relaxed.

He put the lotion down and just sat, looking at her tear-streaked face. She opened her eyes and looked at him sadly. He reached to take her hand and she said, "I'm so sorry, honey."

"I know," he said. "It's over now."

She closed her eyes again, and after a few minutes she seemed to be asleep. Marc took off his shoes and lay down on the other side of the bed next to her. He closed his eyes and began to drift off to sleep himself--and then he heard Sheryl's voice, and felt her hand gently squeezing his.

"After this nap I'm gonna really wear you out--but I've gotta be on top, okay?" He heard the smile in her voice.

He smiled back, his eyes still closed. "You got it, babe."