Ashes to Ashes and Dust to Dust

"Did you blow him? Tell me, Kathryn, did you suck his cock? Did you take his prick in your mouth?"

Turning a bright red with either embarrassment or excitement, suddenly Kathryn went silent and he already knew her answer. He couldn't believe it. He was numb. He was incensed. His wife had another man's cock in her mouth.

How dare she? How could she? Now, with that knowledge, never is when he could kiss her again. The smoldering fire that burned inside of him before was a raging inferno of hate and disgust now. As if dousing the fire with a fire hose, before it flamed up again, he kept his cool temporarily.

"Yes," she said. "I sucked his cock. I blew him. I did."

"Oh, my God," he mumbled under his breath, while slowly shaking his head.

He's been to a lot of fires, but he's never been as hot as he was now. He couldn't believe it. She had his cock in her mouth. She blew him. She sucked the cock of another man. Even though he couldn't wrap his brain around it, somehow he could imagine her sucking John's cock and loving it.

"I'm just curious, Kathryn, how many times did you blow him? Just the one time? Right?"

"God good, Henry, I don't know. I don't know how many times I sucked his cock."

"C'mon, you owe me that much," he said forcing out a smile to show her that it didn't bother him in the least, when, in fact, it made him crazy mad. "How many times did you suck his cock, Kathryn?"

"I don't know, Henry, lots of times. He loved my blowjobs."

He loved her blowjobs? If he was being honest, he hated her blowjobs. She barely gave him half a blowjob. Just as he was building enough excitement to cum, as if she instinctively knew, she pulled him out of her mouth to stroke him. Always, she ended her blowjobs with a hand job and with him cumming on her tits.

Every time she did that, removed him from her mouth, before he had a chance to cum, it was a big let down and he suddenly lost the momentum and went soft. He couldn't help but see John's big, hard, hairy cock in her mouth now and he had to look away from her and from her mouth not to see John's prick buried in his wife's mouth. His heart hurt and his whole being ached with the thoughts of her fucking and sucking John. Already knowing the answer, afraid to ask the next question, he asked anyway.

"Did he cum in your mouth?"

He didn't even have to ask her question, he knew but still couldn't believe that she'd allow another man to cum in her mouth, when, even after supporting her for thirty years, she never gave him that pleasure of having that kind of sexual excitement with her.

"Yes," she said.

What the fuck? Are you kidding me? He couldn't believe it. If he was a cartoon, he'd have smoke coming out of his ears and his head would be spinning around on his shoulders. John cumming in her mouth really bothered him. He imagined him putting a hand to the back of her head and fucking her face and humping her mouth, in the way that he always wanted to do.

That was the one thing, that she'd blow a stranger and allow him to cum in her mouth, that put him over the edge. If he thought there was any chance of it before, there was no saving this marriage now. It was over and, even though she was still sitting beside him, she was already gone from his life and no longer his wife.

He had always wanted to cum in her mouth. With her being the only woman who's ever blown him, the only woman he's known sexually, he always wanted to feel what it was like to cum in her mouth. Always, she pulled him out of her mouth and only allowed him to cum on her tits and he respected her reasons, whatever they were, not to allow him to cum in her mouth. In thirty years of marriage, she never allowed him to cum in her mouth. Unable to broach the subject with her, sensitive to the fact that she was a lady, his wife, and the mother of his children, but in the way she was so sexually adventurous otherwise, he never understood why she didn't allow him to cum in her mouth. It just didn't make any sense to him.

"Tell me," he said. "It's okay, but I need to know," he said with an engaging smile. "Did you swallow?"

"Yes, of course," she said, after a long, silent pause, as if she was remembering the experience of swallowing John's cum. "Swallowing a man is part of the oral sex experience, Henry. You know that."

"Actually, Kathryn, I don't know that, as you never allowed me to cum in your mouth."

"I'm sorry, Henry. I really am," she said, even though he could see in her eyes that she wasn't.

"I don't understand, Kathryn," he said looking at her without speaking for a long, awkward moment. "How could you do that to a stranger, when you don't even do that with me, your loving husband? Even though I wanted to so very badly, you never allowed me to cum in your mouth," he said.

He could feel his face redden with rage. His voice quivered and his eyes filled up, when he asked her the question. More than anything else, even more than the jealousy that he felt before and that would consume him later, he was hurt. He felt rejected. He felt used.

"I love him, Henry."

As if he was detached and watching a sad movie, instead of having a soulful conversation with his wife, as if he was having an out of body experience and soaring higher and higher, he heard her say that she loved him. The words hit him without meaning but, even though they stopped his interstellar flight, he floated away from her, as if he was finally free of her. Even though it hurt, it was somehow freeing that he wasn't the one she loved. She loved him, that other guy, John. She didn't love him, her husband, anymore.

As if traveling through space in time at light speed, he returned in time to see his wife smile. Unable to conceal her happiness for the love of John, she could have spared his feelings, after all they've been through in their thirty years of marriage. She could have looked sad and acted as heartbroken as he was now. She could have shown him some sympathy and sensitivity, but she showed him none. That hurt him more than her falling out of love with him and falling in love with another.

"You love him?" Henry thought he was going to jump up screaming. His blood pressure gave him a blinding headache and he had to stay seated, so as not to fall down and collapse on the carpet in a heap of hurt. He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward, as if confronting the Devil in his own house. He needed to see her eyes. Whatever lies she tried to hide, her eyes would confess the truth. "You allowed him to cum in your mouth and you swallowed his cum because you love him?"

Now, it was more than her blowing him, having him cum in her mouth, and her swallowing him. She just admitted that the reason she didn't allow him to cum in her mouth was that she didn't love him. If he knew cumming in her mouth was her barometer to love, he would have ended this marriage long ago, when she never gave him that pleasure and that sexual satisfaction.

"Yes. I love him, Henry. I do. I really do with all my heart."

"Why Kathryn? I don't understand."

He was now too sad to be angry. He'd save that anger for when he needed it, but not now and not here.

"Even after you shower, Henry, when coming home from a fire, you still smell of smoke. Then, there's you digging all those graves and burying all those people. Eww. Gross. I know it's wrong but when I blow you, I can't help but feel that I'm blowing Smokey the Bear or the Grim Reaper."

"Smokey the Bear? I'm an animal? A cartoon figure? The Grim Reaper? Is that how you perceive me, as death? In the way that I've helped so many people in this town during the worse times of their life, you think of me as the Grim Reaper, when so many people in this town have told me that I was their Angel?" He stared at her long after she stopped looking at him. "I'm your fucking husband!"

"Henry, you're frightening me."

"Frightening you? Sorry, but you're horribly hurting me," he said taking a breath, while trying to calm himself. "So, I disgust you, is that it?"

"Not all the time, Henry," she said in a lowered voice, while patting his fat knee with a hand that he saw her holding John's cock with, every time he looked at it.

Not all the time? That's not much of a consolation for being faithful to a woman for thirty years. Even though he already knew, he needed to ask the question. He needed to hear it from her. He needed to know.

"Does that mean that you never allowed me to cum in your mouth because you don't love me, never loved me?"

"Of course I love you, Henry, but I'm not in love with you in the way that I'm in love with John. Now, that I'm so in love, I know what it feels like to truly be in love and to be so blissfully happy. I never loved you in the way that I love John. I'm sorry, Henry," she said as if her apology would make everything okay, but it didn't.

"I don't know how you could have stay married to me all these years and have three children with me, if you never really loved me and, especially, if I disgusted you."

"It was different back then, Henry. For better or for worse, I was young and inexperienced. Like you, I was a virgin, too. Regretfully and admittedly, when you came along, I didn't know any better. I thought I loved you, but not in the way that I love John. I never felt that way about you then that I feel about him now. I'm sorry, Henry. I really am," she said in the way she'd say to a customer service representative, when returning merchandise that didn't fit or something she didn't want.

In all the years he was married to her, this was the first real time seeing her. In love with her, he never saw through his feelings of love to see her for who she was. Coating her with a layer of sweet sugar, the love he had for her always changed his perception of her for the better. Then, as if hypnotizing him, her beauty mesmerized him and he always thought that he was the luckiest guy in the world to be with someone like her. Now, if he had a gun in the house he would have shot her dead, where she sat for hurting him in the way she had. He was glad he didn't own a gun, never did. Working in a job that was all about death, he could never take a life.

"How could you love him? You're old enough to be his Goddamn mother."

"I don't care," she said making eye contact. "I love him and I want a divorce to marry him."

"You what?" He stared at her and she didn't answer him. "You want a divorce?" He looked at her, as if she had suddenly lost her mind, as he was losing his.

"I don't want to be married to you anymore. I want John, Henry. I want to marry him and I want you to agree to a divorce."

It wasn't bad enough she had cheated on him. It wasn't bad enough she blew another man, allowed him to cum in her mouth, and swallowed him, when she didn't even allow him to do that. Now, after already backing him into a corner, she kicked him, as if he were an abused dog by telling him that she didn't love him and never loved him in the way she loved John. Then, to ask him for a divorce was as if she was trying to kick him into submission, but he'd never submit, not on this and not after all she confessed to him. He had spent a lifetime of giving her whatever she wanted. No more. Her wanting a divorce was the last straw. He'd never divorce her, never.

"I'll never give you a divorce, Kathryn," he said. "It's against my religion. No one in my family ever divorced. My parents were married for 58 frigging years."

"Don't make this difficult, Henry," she said with a cold and detached insensitivity, an aloofness that he's never seen before. "We don't have that kind of money to waste on lawyers," she said looking at and paying more attention to her fingernails, than looking at him.

"We? You don't have any money, not now, especially not now. The house is in my name, Kathryn and I'll mortgage this house to the hilt and give every last dollar I have to a lawyer to fight you in not giving you a divorce."

The house no longer meant anything to him now, anyway. It was just a thing, a shelter and no longer a home. Crushed that she had an affair and in every room of his house, he was devastated that she didn't love him and loved John instead. If that wasn't enough, he was beside himself that she wanted a divorce to marry her young lover. He was still hung up on the fact that she allowed John to cum in her mouth. She swallowed John's cum, when in all the sex they had over the years and in every room of the house, she never allowed him to do that, not once, not ever. Never.

None of this is right. It's just not fair. He was always there for her. He was loving, kind, and good to her. He freely handed her his paycheck every week. What has John done for her, except ruin her life and her marriage? He doesn't even have a job. It wouldn't surprise him, if she gives him his money.

"Henry, we'll talk about this later, when you're not so upset," she said patting his knee again.

"Just answer me this one last question."

"What?"

"Do you give him money?"

"Not much, just a few dollars to--"

"You give your young lover, a man capable of working, but who doesn't work, my money," he looked at her with a face full of hate. "It's not bad enough that this guy takes my wife, twists her head around by giving her sexual orgasms, so that she's lost her senses, and then you give him my money, too."

"It's my money, too, Henry. Just because I don't have a job, doesn't mean that--"

"How dare you support your lover with my money."

"I won't give him anymore money, Henry. Okay?"

He sat staring at her without speaking. As if she was the one hypnotized and mesmerized, this man had turned his wife into a sexual slut of an idiot. Always thoughtfully intelligent, before another man interfered in their marriage, they could talk about anything and everything. Now, she was in a place where he couldn't reach her with reason. She was gone from him, as if they had already divorced. She was no longer with him. Unable to stop himself from harping on the one issue, he blurted it out again.

"In thirty years, Kathryn, you never allowed me to cum in your mouth," he said, as if in a daze.

Even he couldn't believe with all that they discussed, all that she confessed, and all that he discovered, that not allowing him to cum in her mouth was the one thing on his mind. Still, he was hurt and angry that she did that for John and not for him.

"Is that it? Is that what you want? Is that what's bothering you, Henry? I'll suck your cock. I will. You can cum in my mouth," she said falling to her knees, unzipping him, unbuckling his pants, and taking out his fat, little cock. "Okay? I'll do that for you," she said stroking him, before taking his cock in her mouth. "If that's what it will take to make you feel better, you can shoot your warm, oozy load in my mouth and I'll swallow," she said removing his cock from her mouth to speak. "Okay?" She looked up him, not with love, but with resignation, as if he forced her to do this by giving her no alternative. "Alright, Henry?"

He hated her talking to him like that, as if she was a common whore, a back alley prostitute, when she was his wife, the love of his life for so long, and the mother of his children. She never talked to him like that before. Always a lady, if anything she was modest and sexually inhibited, except when she was with him behind closed doors. Now, look at her, she's common and no longer special. She's a slut and a whore.

In the way she said she'd blow him and allow him to cum in her mouth, he couldn't help but think that this was her silent agreement for him to grant her a divorce, one blowjob and cumming in her mouth the one time, after thirty years of marriage. A one-sided contract that was lope-sided, after discovering that she routinely blows John and allows him to cum in her mouth and swallows him all the time, without having him agree to anything wasn't fair. Only, even though he was focusing on a mere blowjob, it wasn't the blowjob that upset him. It was everything. The fact that she had cheated on him and had an affair was the one issue and the fact that she loved John and no longer loved him was the real issue.

As soon as she took him in her mouth, he put his fat hand to the back of her head, pushed her forward, and impaled her mouth with all of him. He wished his cock was bigger, so that he could choke her with it. He imagined the coroner ruling her death accidental during oral sex. Only, just the thought of her dead sickened him. Even after all she confessed, even after she so deeply hurt him, he still loved her.

"Suck my cock. Blow me, bitch. Suck it! Suck it, you dirty slut."

Never, in all the years married to her, had he called her such vile names. As soon as she started sucking him, he got hard. Only, with the thought of her sucking John and John cumming in her mouth, he lost his erection. The harder she sucked the softer her got. He couldn't remove the image of John cumming in his wife's mouth and her swallowing his cum.

"How's that baby?" She removed his cock from her mouth to speak, while looking up at him. "Does that feel good? Do you like it, when I suck your cock?" She took him in her mouth again and started sucking harder, while stroking him faster.

Sadly, she was more experienced in sucking cock now. His wife, who would only allow him to cum on her tits and never allow him to cum in her mouth, was a real cock sucker now. Even though she was giving him the best blowjob she ever gave him, it didn't matter. She wasn't exciting him in the way she did before.

"Just tell me one thing," he said.

"What?" She removed his cock from her mouth to speak.

"How many times did you fuck him?"

"How many times did I fuck him?" She looked at him, as if he was crazy to ask her such a question, while she was giving him a blowjob. "Gees, Henry, I don't know," she said with a nervous laugh, before taking his cock in her mouth, again.

"Once, twice, three times--"

"A few dozen, several dozen probably, maybe more," she said removing his cock from her mouth again to speak. "I have no idea. We fucked lots of time," she said before stuffing her mouth with his cock again, appearing as if she was anxious to get this done and over.

A few dozen? Several dozen? Maybe more? Where was he when they were fucking all those times? He was working digging holes for dead people, filling holes with dirt, and putting out fires, no doubt, while John was digging for a sugar Mama, filling her holes with cum, while giving her an orgasm with his hard hose."

"Just answer me this."

"What, now?" She removed his cock from her mouth again but this time with a look of exasperated impatience on her face.

Just by that one look, it was painfully obvious to him that she didn't love him anymore. He believed her now, finally. She didn't love him. Still, after all these years, after all they've been through, the good and the bad, he couldn't believe it. How could she just stop loving him?

How could he have not noticed the changes in her? Yeah, sure, she's been working out and has lost some weight and looks the best she's looked in years. She's been wearing perfume lately and more makeup, buying new clothes, having her hair done more regularly and getting a manicure, but he never suspected infidelity. He thought she just needed a bit more maintenance to keep her looking pretty and sexy for him and not for another man.

How could he be so stupid? Easily duped, he loved her. Easily deceived, he trusted her. After all these years, he never saw her for what she was or for who she was. Now, he realized, had he not had the two jobs, gone from the house for so many hours of their day, this marriage may have been over long ago. Free to do whatever she wanted, she probably preferred him not being home. She didn't have to work. He made enough money to keep her shopping at the mall.