Third Person Ch. 01

I nodded dreamily. Phillip's eyes zeroed in on the less than half-smoked joint in the ashtray and the baggy resting beside it. Amanda's gifts to me.

"Is that . . ." he began, sitting down on the couch against my legs.

"Uh huh," I answered.

Phillip picked up the bag and inspected it incredulously. "Where did you get it?"

"Amanda," I said coyly. This was going to be fun.

"Who's Amanda?"

"My new friend," I said. I sat up and kissed him, knowing how Amanda's taste lingered on my lips. "You taste that?"

Phillip frowned. "What's . . ."

"That's her pussy."

Phillip's eyes nearly popped out of his head. I laughed at him.

"What the hell, Heather?"

So I told him the whole story, as slowly as I could stand to, including as many details as I could recall. Phillip lit the remainder of the joint with another fireplace match. He smoked as he listened to me describe how I had first seen Amanda on the patio of the coffeehouse, and how I had thought of how much he would like her. Phillip didn't interrupt, didn't try to pass the joint to me. He didn't even look in my direction. I continued on, telling him of the arrangement she had made with me, the bag of weed in exchange for a shower. Phillip's face was flushed red and his lap was swollen.

I told him how I had taken Amanda home, how she had flirted with me as she rolled the joint. I told him how I had become aroused. Phillip didn't say anything until I got to the part where Amanda had blown smoke into my mouth.

"Wait."

Phillip stood up and took my hand. He led me into the bedroom and laid me down.

"Don't stop," he said. "Keep talking."

My husband delicately undressed me as I continued my tale. I told him how Amanda and I had kissed, how she had held my breast, how I had reached up her skirt and found her naked inside. Phillip kissed along the inside of my thighs as I talked, slowly moving towards the center. His lips brushed mine and spread them apart to expose the trembling pearl of my clitoris, which he gently flicked with his tongue. Phillip loved to go down on me. It was a familiar sensation, but a little strange now. Made new again in comparison to how she had done it. Phillip's lips were rougher and he needed a shave. His tongue was firm where Amanda's had been tentative. I told him this. I told him how Amanda had been and how different he was and how much I loved both. The story inflamed both of us. I was dripping wet, soaking the sheets, flowing like a river. Phillip did his best to drink it all in, but it was too much for him.

I told him how I had tasted Amanda's pussy, describing her flavor and the way she had trembled, and Phillip stopped. He didn't need to hear any more and it was becoming difficult for me to speak anyway. He stood beside the bed. I sat up before him and helped to tear his pants open.

Phillip's penis was an eccentric thing. Not very long, but thicker than my own wrist when he was erect. It was bent, too. The head jutted off at a slightly odd angle to the rest of it. This angle was what really got to me. It touched places inside me no one else had ever reached.

I took him into my mouth, wrapping my lips around my husband's fat funny cock, running my tongue all over its smooth ridges. God, I loved to suck him. He moaned out loud and ran his fingers through my hair. I cupped his buttocks in my hands and pulled him close, sliding one finger in between to play with his tight little asshole the way I knew he liked me to. I thought of Amanda and how she had tasted and how badly I wanted Phillip to come so I could taste him too. I loved it when he came in my mouth. Not the taste, really, who can get used to raw, salty egg whites? But the idea. The idea that his seed, this stuff that makes babies, which contains all that he is and all that he can pass on, that I'm coaxing this essence from him and consuming it. Thinking of this makes me lose it. I fold one leg under myself and press the heel of my foot into my dripping vagina and that's all it takes to get me off again. I feel him respond to my orgasm. His asshole spasms around my finger and somewhere inside him wires glow white hot and burn out then he's spurting his stuff into my mouth.

I gulp and swallow, but only half, because Phillip leans down to kiss me and I feed him the rest. He laughs when he tastes himself and before he can wither he pushes me back and lays on top of me and plunges his crooked prick inside. I cry out and wrap him in my arms and my legs and he thrusts madly, grunting like an animal. I smell his sweat and my sweat and Amanda's sweat still on me. The air is thick and fetid with sex goddamn heavy sweaty fucking. I taste him and her both in my mouth and Phillip kisses me like he wants to devour and on his salty lips I taste myself too.

I come again. How many times is that? Who the fuck can count? Phillip makes his sounds and comes again inside me. Inside my cunt. Twice in a row is rare for him but he doesn't stop he goes down and sucks my cunt drinking his stuff out of me like he wants it back and I squeeze come into his mouth and come again myself. I'm crying now, sobbing as my body is no longer my own just some writhing thing that comes and fucks. Phillip rolls me over and his tongue is at my asshole. Usually I don't let him because it's so nasty but now I want it nasty. He plunges his tongue in there and then Phillip's cock, his fat fucking cock, slick with come and cunt and sweat and saliva, slides smoothly into my ass for only the third time since we've been married and I scream because it's so hot it burns with delicious fire and it's too much and it's just exactly right and I go howling over the top one last time.

Phillip thrusts four times and he's spent. He flops down beside me, too exhausted to move or to speak. I fell asleep with my ass in the air and my head in a pillow.

*

I awoke sometime later, ravenously hungry. I realized I hadn't had anything to eat since the croissant left unfinished at the coffee house an eternity ago. That was, of course, precluding any nutritional value there might be in oral sex.

I peeled myself out of bed. Phillip snorted once in his sleep and rolled over, but did not awake. He slept like a corpse, I wouldn't have been able to wake him up even if I'd wanted to.

I walked naked out of the bedroom. The dark house was filled with muggy summer night air. The windows were open, admitting a scant breeze and the sounds of night. Crickets, frogs down by the river bed, June bugs dive-bombing the screens and the distant hum of traffic from town. Under these sounds, so faint it could have easily been imagined, was another. A steady pulse I felt in the floorboards beneath my feet. I heard this sometimes, always late at night when I was up alone. I thought of it as the heartbeat of the house. Now, as always, the thought was deeply unsettling. Jesus, the things that go through my head at two in the morning. I scolded myself for being childish and tip-toed into the bathroom.

When I wiped myself, I noticed how sore I was down there. I tried to recall the afternoon's adventures, but it all seemed unreal to me now. Especially Amanda. Had I dreamed that? It was crazy, so unlike anything I'd ever done before in my life. I'd never even had a one night stand before, let alone sex with a strange woman. Looking back, it wasn't even as if I'd been seduced. I had simply surrendered to some magnetic current of fate.

I grabbed my bathrobe from the hook on the back of the bathroom door and went into the kitchen. The bright fluorescents in there reassured me. It was a friendly, modern light. Whatever haunted the house was exorcized by these flickering glass tubes. The kitchen, at least, was mine.

I hauled ingredients out and arranged them on the counter. Bread, sliced turkey breast, Swiss cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayonaisse. My mouth watered at the sight. I couldn't remember ever being this hungry. I sliced thick chunks of cheese and tomato and spread the mayo with the same knife. I wolfed down the sandwich. It was utterly delicious and I mourned a little when it was gone.

I went back to bed, crawling naked between the soiled sheets. Beside me, Phillip lay on his back, buzzing like a lumberyard. There was still something empty inside me. The sandwich had only whetted my appetites. I diddled myself listlessly with one finger, then reached over to grab Phillip. His penis flopped in my hand, so I took him in my mouth until he was hard again. Phillip snorted but still did not wake. Like the dead, I tell you. I straddled him and guided him inside my aching vagina. I rocked slowly back and forth and wondered if I would ever be satisfied. Some things, once you wake them up, never go to sleep again.