Behind the Closet Door Ch. 00

Chapter 0: Context

Author's Note: This is one hundred percent fiction and there will be no happy endings.

I couldn't say exactly what it was that happened in my head that I would allow myself to come to the situation I currently find myself in. Curiosity certainly was a factor; a sense of emotional wanderlust -- if I wanted to get philosophical -- wouldn't be too far outside of the bounds of reason. The more I think about it, the less solid the ground feels, both physically and metaphorically speaking.

My name is Jim Davis, for the past seven years I've been living the modern American dream with the love of my life, Victoria and our daughter, Veronica. We live in the suburbs of Los Angeles, California, close enough to the beach and the city but far enough away from the noise and absurd cost of living. I work in an office doing accounting for a massive conglomerate in one of the cubical farms.

If anyone asks: I hate it more than anything, but if I were to admit to myself -- much to my teenage self's chagrin -- I love the job. Its just the action of losing yourself in a task that has to get done and getting paid well for it -- I guess having kids really does change a guy.

My wife, Victoria -- never Vicky or any other truncation or pet name -- works for another branch of the same company on the other side of town, she's one of the heads of the marketing department; so unlike my wardrobe which consists of four basic black and gray suits routinely cycled out and replaced occasionally over the past five or so years, her job requires her to stay on the bleeding edge of what is fashionable. Which is just as well for her because in spite of her take-charge bosslady attitude she loves clothes, shopping and fashion.

Her attention to detail in her wardrobe is indicative of her overall personality, everything has its place and if it's not where it belongs she will not hesitate to let everyone know it, luckily this isn't as overbearing as it may seem considering she is only like this about aspects of 'her' parts of the house, her work, and her wardrobe; that being said it can still sneak into her expression when Veronica or I leave a mess or don't match our clothes to her standards.

We met in college; I transferred into Cal State LA from a community college and was pretty much all work and no play for the two years I was there -- having gone a bit overboard on partying in community college. Victoria on the other hand was all play and no work, I only chanced upon meeting her on account of her having to come in for mandatory math tutoring. At the time I was tutoring more to keep myself out of trouble than the extra cash, but then Victoria walked in and trouble had found me.

She was tall and all legs, it was one of those rare cold days in LA when I first saw her and she was wearing all black: moderate heeled boots, to tights leading up to a felt mid thigh length skirt to a black leather jacket topped with shoulder length dyed pitch black hair (in retrospect a precursor to her impeccable fashion sensibilities). Her face seemed to float in the wake of that black velvet sea. Her jacket was adorned with a variety of pins; band names I recognized and word salads that I could only assume were some hipster band she had seen at some hole in the wall in a less than reputable part of town. Oh yeah, this chick was dangerous.

I had pegged her for being a disinterested bore of a girl who cared only about partying it up and while that wasn't completely wrong I was surprised and delighted to find that she actually was happy to be getting a hand in math and that she was prepared to put the effort in. To this day I still think back and bask in the hatred of all the stupid college kids that came to tutoring sessions and treated me like I was forcing them to come in and wasting their time -- little shits. Victoria was not one of those; she was actually smart, intuitive in her ways and knew what she was doing in just about everything that wasn't math.

We found ourselves talking about all sorts of things often going over our weekends and plans for the next ones before even opening a textbook or mentioning numbers and equations. I couldn't speak for her but the tutoring sessions were rapidly becoming the highlight of my week, every Wednesday I'd wake up with a sort of spring in my step. I would find out later she did in fact feel the same (spoiler we DID end up married).

Then one week the catalyst of our romance was put in place. Our music tastes overlapped in a few places, she was more into the fast stuff, punk rock, metal, underground scenes, stuff that went deeper into subgenres than I ever cared to get. I liked the big punk bands from when I was in high school Sum 41, NOFX, The Offspring -- those kinds of bands, but was never super into anything but the hits and my music taste even today could be summed up as whatever comes on or is put on is A-OK but the punk bands were the bands she liked so I had found I had a very sudden urge to listen to more of that.

There was a Rancid show in LA one weekend and she insisted we go (remember, on the outside punk bands were my favorite shit in the world). So that weekend she arrived at my apartment I was immediately tongue-tied. She was dressed in a torn up, well-worn band tee that adhered to her slim figure in a manner I could only call salacious, and ended at the top of her hips well above her belly button, underneath were a pair of jean shorts over fishnet stockings her heeled boots traded in for black doc martens. Her make up was heavy but matched her 'salacious' top and the cat eyed liner seemed to dare me to touch her. After I picked my jaw off the floor we got our pre-gaming materials together (cheap whiskey and a few even cheaper beers) and drove over.

I had been in a few pits, but never had seen any one go crazy like the crowd there. People were knocking each other around in a big circle running around jumping all over the place, from the outside looking in I couldn't help but appreciate how dedicated all the psychos in the pit were to what they were doing. I was buzzed from the parking lot shots and beers and actually was having a great time, but then I noticed in the chaos a random guy who seemed to have taken a liking to Victoria. She was running around and this guy was running into her and with her a lot, I would have thought nothing of it but I saw she was getting annoyed and notably pushed him away harder and harder each time.

Nobody else was paying attention (how could they after all) but he disappeared for a minute and came back behind her and grabbed her ass and hugged her from behind grabbing her tits over her shirt. This was not okay and a few people around them were giving each other questioning looks I had no questions. I was only about ten or fifteen feet from them and I was on the warpath. I was never a huge guy -- certainly in better shape back then in my early twenties than now in my mid thirties -- coming in at just less than six foot on a good day, but it would be more than enough to handle this creep. I grabbed him from behind by the shoulders and with every bit of strength I could manage sent him flying with a very clear message of 'get your fucking hands off of her' he got up and charged me, but at that point the crowd knew what was happening as did the absolutely massive security guard and he was promptly thrown out of the venue.

Victoria turned to me and grabbed my arm and in a dreamy damsel in distress voice dripping with sarcasm said "my heeeeeeeroooooo." But she didn't let go of my arm and as the show was wrapping up we walked out together like that and drove back to my small dingy apartment. There we began making out heavily on my bed and as I lowered her down on her back and got on top I began slipping what she called a shirt up her body -- looking at her face made up like punk dream girl and into her deep brown eyes I began to feel a strange sensation much different than what I had felt in any past relationship -- a feeling I now know was definitely love blossoming.

The shirt briefly obscured her face and we were quickly back on each other. I got my hands under her and (with a speed I still am proud of to this day) deftly unclasped her simple black bra which joined her top on the floor what stood before me was perfection, her breasts were on the smaller side probably B's but absolutely beautiful and stood firm and capped with small brownish nipples that stood invitingly to be played with -- an invitation I readily took and got my mouth on them. She moaned as I sucked and lightly bit one and played with the other, switching between them methodically.

"Oh, fuuuuuck," she moaned out in a husky voice that to this day drives me crazy with lust. I reached down and unbuttoned her shorts and slid them down leaving her in torn fishnets and black and red boy shorts panties under those. We continued kissing as she reached to undress me. With both of us in only underwear I pulled back and stared at her, taking everything in as I slipped off her stockings and panties together and began rubbing her pussy. Surprised at how wet she already was as I slipped a finger into her and began to rub her clit.

She looked up at the ceiling and moaned out "Yessss, fuck that feels so fucking good." Spurred on by her praise I slipped in another finger and picked up the pace -- matching her breathing. As I continued I leaned in and began playing with her clit as I fingered her -- this caused her legs to quiver and her back to arch. As she came on my hands I pulled back and noticed her beautifully maintained triangle of hair just above her pussy.

At the time most women went completely shaved or waxed so seeing hair was an unexpected novelty and made me want her even more than I had before. Here moans and shaking subsided and after she lay there in a post orgasmic state of bliss she looked at me under heavy eyelids and said, "damn, baby I could get used to that kind of treatment."

Before I could collect my thoughts and form a coherent response I noticed her hand was dancing its way across my thigh and rested over my boxers and on my still very hard dick. She was quick to pull it out and make a move toward it. Upon seeing it her only response was a satisfied "nice" in approval of its size. She engulfed my dick and began to slowly bob her head up and down on it making little grunts every now and then. I grabbed on to her jet black hair that had been thrown around into the sexiest mess I've ever seen and pulled her further down my dick; this was the testing grounds and it could go either way, but I was confident I had not overplayed and stepped over any lines.

My boldness was rewarded as she looked up at me with my cock buried in her mouth and smiled with her eyes at me -- I had hit the jackpot indeed. "You like the way I suck your dick, baby?"

"Oh fuck yeah," I responded

"You want to use me like a little slut, don't you baby?" she said in between sucks.

"Yeah I'm gonna make you my little whore" I said as I sharply pulled her head into my dick holding it as deep as I could get it (about halfway down my seven inch dick) she made little gagging noises but still not pulling back. Her eyes began to water and she looked up at me -- her eyes wide with lust. I let go of her head and she pulled back and deeply inhaling. She laid back on the bed looking at me lustily, her mouth shimmering in the dim light.

"I need you to fuck me NOW." She demanded

I wasted no time at all climbing on top of her; she grabbed my dick and guided it to her soaking pussy. She slid it up and down her glistening slit I slowly began to push into her and into the hottest most erotic woman I had ever come across. I was going slow and being gentle

Her low "mmmmmm's' and "oooooh's" were replaced with louder grunts but she needed more and in the middle looked at me as I was on top of her and said "I told you I need you to FUCK me" I was a bit shaken for a second but then it registered.

"All right little slut" I said with defiance. She let out a yelp as I pulled out of her and flipped her on her stomach with a loud "unf" I grabbed her around the stomach and pulled her up on her knees and elbows and pushed my dick into her tight little pussy from behind. "Oooooh fuck yeah, like that baby" she said as I took her fast and rough each thrust getting a grunt followed by a moan. "Make me your little slut, baby" she was a dirty talker and I loved every second of it. I reached my hand back and slapped her tight little ass each slap was punctuated by a yelp from her.

After the fourth slap she was moaning loudly indiscernible words lots of "oh yeah's" and fuck me's" her arms eventually gave out in front of her leaving her ass in the air and creating a beautiful view for me as I continued to fuck her with everything I had.

"You're a little slut aren't you?" I asked knowing the answer full well.

"Oh fuck yeah, baby!" She screamed

"Say it little slut"

"I'm a little slut, oh f-fuck!" I reached forward and grabbed her hair and jerked her head back while I fucked her and corrected my earlier statement

"You're my little slut."

"YES! YES! I'm your little slut -- FUCK ME! FUCK YOUR DIRTY LITTLE SLUT!" She moaned as I picked up my pace and pulled harder on her hair

"OH FUCK I'M CUMMING!" She screamed out as her body shook under me. I pulled out at the last second and shot probably the biggest load I ever had up her back as she convulsed in pleasure. The first shots landed between her shoulder blades as the rest incrementally painted lower until it reached a small pool down at the small of her back.

I collapsed next to her and we looked at each other smiling.

"You made a mess didn't you?" she said referring to her back.

"Somehow, I think you'll be alright with it."

She snuggled closer to me and we fell asleep soon after.