Ari Ch. 03

In response to my gentle probing he said that yes, he was "seeing" Rachel a lot, which I quickly confirmed meant "fucking." It appeared that his erection problem with me was not at all in evidence where she was concerned.

On the other hand, none of her stuff was lying around his house--no clothes, no lacy underthings, no cosmetics. And none of mine had been packed away. So as grim as things seemed, I had reason for hope. Maybe Bobby's strategy was "fuck Rachel a lot until I'm feeling confident again, then go back to Ari." That would be fine with me, but only if he DID come back to me--and if it worked.

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"So where am I, Jon? I thought I had my man back--in almost every way that matters. We were pretty much living together, I know he cares for me, he's even ready to include me in his family's Thanksgiving! You know as well as I do what a big step that is. And he clearly still wants to see me.

"But our sex life is nowhere, literally! For about six weeks now. And he's getting weirder and weirder about spending any time with me. When he does let me come over he avoids getting close to me, goes to sleep extra early or stays up late until I'm asleep. I'm afraid that any day now he'll tell me he's moving Rachel into the house to be his full-time fuck-buddy.

"And why shouldn't he? If every time we're in bed together his cock droops like a dead plant, I mean it's got to be making him feel terrible!" I put my head in my hands, staring at the floor miserably.

"Okay, Ari. We've talked about this before, but let's try again. Why is this happening?"

I stared at him. "Because God hates me and has a fucked-up sense of humor?" We both laughed.

"All right," I said. "I guess I can think of a couple of reasons. One: this is another, sort of subconscious way to punish me for what I did to him. A kind of revenge: 'You fucked around on me, Ari, now you're not going to get to fuck me.'

"Only, that's not so convincing. For one thing, it was years ago, and we've been through so much together since then--why would this just start happening now? But even more important, it's at least as bad a punishment for him as for me, since it's started messing with his head. He's got Rachel reassuring him that his dick still works, but I'm sure he's wondering if he'll ever be able to fuck me again--which he really likes to do. So, overall, I don't think it's about punishing me."

Jon nodded. "What's the other reason then?"

"This doesn't make much sense either, after all this time--but maybe he's intimidated by all the other men he knows fucked me during our marriage. Maybe it freaks him out, having to compete with them."

"Uh-huh. But why would that come up now, rather than months ago?"

I thought. Then I smiled. "Because ... maybe because he's starting to think more seriously about ... us as a couple, about getting back together permanently?"

Jon said, "that's what seems most likely to me. We've talked about this before: when it's all just casual, the stakes are lower. He doesn't have to think so much about what you did, all the guys you had sex with.

"But as you draw closer, and as the realization that he's back in a serious relationship with you looms in his mind, then competing with those men becomes a real issue. I'm sure that the family Thanksgiving was a major trigger for this, though not the only one."

I nodded, thinking about it. We were silent for a time. And then I grinned widely.

"If that's true, then--then if I could eliminate the issue of competition, maybe we could get past this?"

Jon smiled, saying, "I wondered when you'd think of that."

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Bobby had been avoiding me more and more, not only seeing Rachel but arranging dinners after work with some of his friends; but I managed to get him to come over to my place on a Friday night by promising him fried chicken. I'd always been just an okay cook but I made great fried chicken, and he still loved it.

We had a relaxed meal with a couple of beers, and then as we were finishing up the dishes I said, "would you mind giving me a hand with something, Bobby?"

"Sure," he said, probably figuring a bookshelf needed tightening or something. "What is it?"

"Give me just a minute and I'll show you." I disappeared into the bedroom, and about five minutes later I called him to come in.

"What the ...? Forget it, Ari," he said, turning to leave. I was standing next to the bed, posed in an absolutely obscene red nightie that showed off my nipples and my bush to best advantage. My hair was down and brushed and I'd freshened up my makeup. All modesty aside, I looked sexy as hell.

"Wait a minute, Bobby!" I shouted. I closed the bedroom door and stood against it, letting him take in the view. Then I moved over to him, twined my arms around his neck and gave him the hottest kiss I could manage. He didn't exactly kiss me back but he didn't push me away either, and I slid my hand down over his pants to find at least the beginnings of a hard-on.

Still watching him attentively, I moved back to the bed and let the nightie fall to my feet, posing stark naked for a minute. Then I got up on the bed and arranged myself so that I was on my hands and knees. My knees were apart and my ass pointed towards him, my lubed-up asshole glistening.

I looked back over my shoulder at his uncertain face. "Bobby--you know this. I was a cheating whore but I had my rules. The whole time, I never let anyone near my ass. No one but you has had me there in more than ten years, since before you and I first met.

"My ass is yours, Bobby, all yours, and it always has been. Now come take it."

He stared at me, and I waited, holding my breath. He said, "I don't think ..."

I jumped off the bed and walked towards him, letting him see my tits bouncing. I put my hand on his pants--his cock was swelling promisingly.

"Your woman, your ass, baby--just yours, no one else's." I crooned the words softly into his ear as I rubbed his dick. Then I quickly pulled his clothes off--he didn't resist me. I got him down on the bed on his back. Grabbing the lube, I greased up his cock, which was staying hard so far, then quickly climbed on top.

"Just for you, Bobby--only yours," I said again, and I slowly guided my asshole down onto him. He was being passive, which was a damn good thing because I hadn't had a cock up there since the day he'd caught me with Charlie. (I'll be honest, though: I had been practicing for a couple of days with a small dildo.) I eased myself down, groaning at the stretching, which was right on the edge between pleasure and pain.

He was patient with me--or maybe just stunned, I don't know which--and he let me work myself down on him slowly, taking an inch then pulling back up, so it was probably a good five minutes before he was all the way up my ass and I was seated firmly on top of his thighs. I felt so amazingly full--I almost couldn't believe he'd ever been all the way in there before!

"This ass has always been just for you, baby," I crooned to him, "only for you to take, now and always." I started to slide back and forth on him, dragging a couple of inches of his cock in and out of me. It felt fantastic! I watched his face, as excitement gradually seemed to be replacing shock.

Then suddenly he sat up, grabbed my arms and lifted me off him.

"Bobby, what--"

"Roll over, Ari--put these pillows under you." He got me up on my hands and knees at the edge of the bed, with pillows under my middle, and stood behind me. Then without any ado he pushed himself smoothly, firmly back up into my asshole. Right away he began sliding in and out. Thank God, he was taking charge!

I relaxed and gave myself over to the sensations. Bobby and I had both enjoyed anal sex during our marriage, though it had been a fairly rare event. Still, it surprised me that we'd somehow never gone back to it in the many months we'd been seeing each other.

He was speeding up now, holding my hips and pulling them back tightly on each in-stroke, shoving that delicious cock every last quarter-inch up my ass that it would reach. I was moaning, crying out his name, reaching back with one hand to rub my clit, which made my ass feel even better.

Before I could get myself off, though, Bobby sped up, started shoving in and out really hard, groaned incredibly loud, and then pushed into me with all his might, shooting his hot come into me. He grunted and cried out and yanked on my hips, trying to get every last millimeter of his dick inside me. It was too soon for my orgasm but I couldn't have cared less!

We collapsed together, rolling on our sides so Bobby could spoon me from behind, his dick slowly softening and finally falling out of me. I didn't dare say a word--I was balanced on the edge of incredibly happy and incredibly nervous. We lay together comfortably for what had to be at least half an hour.

Finally I rolled away from him, turned back and gave him a big smile and a big, loving kiss. Then I went into the bathroom, cleaned myself up, and came back with a warm washcloth and thoroughly cleaned his dick and his balls.

I said, "take me again, baby--take my ass and remind yourself that it's always been all yours, only yours." He watched me as I used my hands and then my lips and tongue to tease his cock, enjoying the feelings as I brought it to life. I took my time, and after maybe ten minutes he was wonderfully hard.

I got the lube again, put lots and lots of it on his cock and some more into my tender asshole, then lay on my back with my legs high in the air. I said, "take my ass this way, Bobby, so I can watch you reclaim what's yours."

This time he didn't hesitate; he rolled right between my legs, got up on his knees and started shoving his dick down into my waiting asshole. It hurt a little but I didn't try to stop him When he got all the way in I started rocking up and down at him and he pounded me, not fast but powerfully, coming most of the way out on each stroke and then descending again, smacking his groin against my ass.

As we fucked I saw him watching me and I smiled my love to him, kept telling him he was my man and I was his, all his, only his. When he started speeding up I grabbed his ass with my hands and pulled him into me harder. I knew I'd be very sore afterwards but I wanted him to really take me--and he did.

He started fucking my ass as fast as he could, and his face got kind of red, and he said, "yes, you ARE mine, your ass is mine and all of you is mine--no one else's, got it?!" and I was crying out "yes baby, yes I'm all yours," and I heard him let out a kind of strangled yell and he came as hard as I've ever seen him come, thrusting and humping into me, gasping for breath, until he was finally done and he sagged down on top of me.

This time I knew we were done for a while, which was fine with me--my asshole was on fire. After a few minutes I got up again, washed myself off in the bathroom, cleaned up Bobby again with a washcloth, then tucked us into bed together and turned off the light.

He was half-asleep already. I rolled up against him, said, "I love you, and I am all yours always--nobody else's," and we went to sleep.

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Nothing was said the next morning--it was as if it never happened. We got up, took our showers, I made him a nice breakfast, we talked about this and that, and off he went. No "gee honey that was great," or "thanks for doing that," or even "I had a great time." To say nothing of "want to get together sometime this weekend?" I knew I was going to have to wait him out.

He didn't call all that Saturday, and because I'm a glutton for punishment I drove by his house that evening around 9:00. There was a car in the drive that I figured was Rachel's. I went back home and paced the floor for a while, then went to bed. The next afternoon the car was still there.

Shit.

But on Monday, Bobby called around noon, all chatty and cheerful. I played along, wondering what the hell was going on. He said, "I know it's short notice, but Naked Sea Otters are playing at the Ol' Rodeo Bar tomorrow night--are you free?"

Damn right I was free. I don't like the band as much as Bobby does, but we still had a good time, and afterwards when he said, "Ari, do you need to go back home tonight?" I just smiled and said, "not unless your bed has suddenly gotten smaller."

He held my hand on the drive to his house, and when we got there I disappeared quickly. When he'd locked up and come to bed he found me naked on my hands and knees, my ass lubed up and the lube bottle next to me. Before he could say anything I said, "I didn't want you to forget who this ass has always belonged to."

This time I didn't even need to suck him hard--I wiggled my butt at him while he got his clothes off, and then he stood behind me and lubed up and teased me with his cockhead for a while, and then eased himself up my ass. We had a great fuck, slower this time and not as frantic, more relaxed. He reached around and twisted my nipples, and I slid my hand down onto my clit and gave myself one hell of an orgasm just before he came into me with a happy groan.

After Bobby had fallen asleep, his arms around me, I lay awake a long time. I wondered about him and Rachel, about him and me, about whether and when we'd get back to "regular" sex. I thought about all the ups and down we'd had since his divorce from Laura--and, going back even further, since the day we met, and since the day he'd found out how I'd been fucking him over.

The odds against us being back where we were were astronomical. I gave credit to my persistence, Jon's insightfulness, and Bobby's willingness to give me at least a bit of a chance, to get my foot back in the door. Without all three of those things we'd undoubtedly be living separate live, in different cities, probably without any contact at all. And I'd be miserably sad, and he'd be angry and resentful and hurt.

This is better, I thought. Not all the way there yet, but boy is this better.

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I didn't see Bobby for a couple of days--and I wondered whether he was still screwing Rachel--but he invited me over for dinner on Saturday night and said he was going to cook.

When I got there and saw we were having bruschetta, grilled steaks, baked potatoes and a Greek salad, I smiled to myself. This was one of the meals Bobby did best, and it meant he was making an extra effort. I helped with the salad, set the table, praised the excellent steaks and the nice wine he had found, and flirted with him all through dinner and dessert--almost as though we hadn't known each other for more than a decade.

It was a little too cold to go out to the back deck so we sat together on the couch in the living room. I snuggled up to him and said, "this is turning out to be a very nice date, baby. And you know what?"

He looked at me, interested, and I said, "I'm still really, really easy."

I expected him to laugh, or at least chuckle. But he just looked at me very seriously and said, "as long as it's only with me."

So I sat straight up, equally serious. I took his two hands in mine and looked right back at him. "Only with you. Now and for the rest of my life--or as long as you'll have me."

He held my gaze for a long time--it was almost as though I was making a pledge to him, though it wasn't anything I hadn't said countless times before. Finally he relaxed and smiled. "Well in that case, I have to say that I'm feeling pretty easy myself."

I grinned and pulled him down on me, and we lay on the couch making out for a while, neither of us in a hurry. We kissed and murmured to each other, and he lazily stroked my breasts which brought my nipples to full attention. "That's nice," he said, and slipped his hands up under my blouse, pushing my bra up to get at them. He strummed them and teased them, all the time kissing me, and I started to get really worked up.

"Bedroom?" I said, but he shook his head and said, "not yet--I'm having too much fun right here." He caressed me and kissed me, licked my neck and nipped at my ear lobe, played with my breasts until I thought I'd go crazy with excitement--I felt like a 19-year old again.

I tried to get his cock out of his pants but he wouldn't let me, he just kept playing with me, finally sliding a hand down into my soaked crotch and giving my pussy its wake-up call. Long after I was totally ready to get fucked he was still teasing and caressing me, and I was ready to rocket into orbit!

"Please, baby," I said, over and over; and finally he just picked me up in his arms and carried me into the bedroom. I threw off my clothes as fast as I could, reached into the night-table drawer for the lube and arranged myself on hands and knees. But Bobby just kneeled down behind me, breathed on my wet pussy, and then started licking me, torturing me, making me crazy with his tongue flicking all around my clit. He held my hips so I couldn't get away and he licked and licked me until I came hard, screaming, trying to pull away from him as it got to be too much.

I collapsed face-down on the bed. But in less than a minute he was back behind me, pulling me up on my hands and knees again, then pushing his cock smoothly into my soaking wet cunt. It felt so fantastic that I didn't think right away what this meant. I just said "oooh" and started pushing back against his hips.

We fucked hard, excited, until he came, and then we lay together. Finally I thought, that wasn't my ass! He took my cunt this time!

I rolled over to look at him and he smiled. "Yup. Not that I haven't been enjoying nailing your ass, Ari, but your pussy was so wet and hot that it was hard to resist."

I hugged him hard and kissed him all over his face: his cheeks, his ear, his temple, and finally his mouth. We lay a while longer and I said, "again?"

"Well, if you twist my arm."

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I slipped out of bed early the next morning, pulled on one of Bobby's old T-shirts and made him his favorite breakfast: scrambled eggs, sausages, and waffles. When he ambled into the kitchen, probably drawn by the smell of coffee, I gave him an enormous kiss, seated him at the table and said, "eat. I've got to keep your strength up."

He smiled broadly. "Is that a threat?"

"I prefer to think of it as a promise--one that will be fulfilled in oh, 30 minutes or so. Depends on whether you want to shower before or after--and whether that will be together or separately."

The rest of the day felt almost like a honeymoon. We were in and out of bed all day, relaxing from sex for naps and the occasional snack. Bobby watched half of a football game while I made dinner, and we ate it in bed, before putting the plates on the floor to fuck some more. We must have done it six times in all, and we slept Sunday night like two dead people.

I had no idea what the next week would bring, but Bobby seemed to take it for granted that we were back together, that I would be staying over every night. That worked for me! Towards the end of the week he was talking about our getting away for the weekend, and I couldn't keep the question from bursting out of my mouth.

"So, uh, what's up with you and Rachel?"

"Oh, Rachel." He grinned at me, keeping me waiting. "Well," he said, still smiling.

"Sex with her was pretty hot." I silently noted the past tense.

"But sex with you is even better. And out of bed it's no contest."

I smiled back, waiting. I knew he wanted me to ask another question, but I didn't. We just looked at each other, smiling, waiting, and finally I said Fuck It and gave in.

"So you and she ..."

"We're done," he said, looking triumphant. "I started thinking, you've been pretty insistent about being committed to me and only me, maybe it was time for me to start doing the same."

He was still grinning as I shrieked, jumped up out of my chair and threw myself into his arms, kissing him and crying.