Cheap Perfume

"God...I'm cummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmming," she screamed, her climax coming so easily, it scared her. Her words, the eternal signal to finish his task, spurred the matador on. He fucked her faster, deeper and harder. In seconds, his final grunts and heaving gasps joined her own as their bodies twisted and heaved through their little death. Spurt after spurt of his seed spewed into her womb until there was no more to give. The just stood there in silence, clinging to each other until they had both calmed down.

She finally looked up at him and kissed him tenderly, stroking the sides of his face almost lovingly. Suddenly, the sound of a passing car jogged a little piece of reality back into her mind. She hated the sounds of her own words. "You've got to go...please." He understood. He hugged her tightly, then took a step back. She could feel the flood of sperm ooze out onto the cold white metal surface. She looked down and giggled. He shook his head and laughed. He kissed her lightly then lifted her up over the puddle, holding her tightly against him as he let her feet slide down to the floor. A few moments later, he was dressed and somewhat straightened out. One last kiss...and he was gone.

She leaned against the door for a few moments...the afterglow lingering. She looked at the pool of cum, which had made its way to the edge of the dryer and was now dripping down onto the floor. What a difference a day makes. She shook her head and laughed until her eyes were full of tears. Finally, good sense prevailed and she grabbed a roll of paper towels from the shelf and wiped away every trace of their passion, making sure she put the used towels at the bottom of the trash can, scattering some egg shell and coffee grounds over them...just in case.

She gathered up the buttons from the floor, checked for any more telltale signs and headed back into the kitchen. She stopped suddenly, reached back, took a can of air freshener from the shelf and filled the room with spring flowers. She put the can back and silently padded towards her bedroom, biting her lip and grinning like the cat savoring that last bite of the canary.

The slight sting of the water felt soothing sprayed against her skin. She cleansed her body carefully, making sure every drop of pleasure was completely washed out of her sensitive cunt. It wasn't until she was rinsing her hair for the second time, that it hit her. She foolishly began to thinkm not feel. What the hell have I done?

It had been a long time since she had cried. She stood there, her arm on the tile, her forehead tightly pressed against it as she leaned into the wall. Her thoughts flowed down her cheeks and dripped from her chin into the water below, swirling down the drain in secret. How could I let him fuck me. I didn't even like him...no that isn't true. But...god, I let him cum inside me. Oh my god...What if? She trembled at the thought. She bent over, finding it impossible to keep down the coffee and cake. It took an eternity to wash them down the drain. Oh my god.

She was watching television when her husband finally got home. It was nearly seven. Normally she would have been upset...but today she was actually thankful he had taken so long. It had taken quite a while to get herself together. Outwardly, she was pretty much back to to normal. She had even sewn the buttons back on her dress...even had time to give it a quick washing and drying. She remembered to toss her panties in at the last minute...just in case he had noticed them earlier. Her tears had finally stopped...most likely because she was completely cried out.

After every distraction, a flood of guilt and shame washed over her, the sobbing and thoughts of killing herself were just part of the package. Sure, things hadn't been so great between them for a while. But she couldn't understand why she had done such a terrible thing. She looked up the second she heard the back door slam shut, trying her damnedest not to look guilty. His steps were a little unsteady as he crossed the room to give her a kiss. He smelled like whiskey and cheap perfume. The perfume was something new. As she looked at him stumble back then lean forward, she began to realize why.

"Sorry, I'm late...stopped off for a couple with the guys and watched the game. Miss me?" She didn't bother to answer and simply turned her face and offered him her cheek. She looked at his empty hands and wondered if he had left the crabs in the kitchen.

"You didn't forget, did you?" she asked.

"Aw...damn," he mumbled, grimacing and shrugging his shoulders. "Want me to go out and get something for us to eat?" Part of her wanted to say yes...maybe she'd get lucky.

"That's OK, hon. I'll fix us a couple of sandwiches and open up some chips. Go wash your hands."

"Good thinking, baby. Be right back." She watched him stumble off towards their bedroom then pushed herself out of the chair. She threw together a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches, put them on plates and poured some chips around them...trying to make them look like dinner. After fifteen minutes, she started to nibble on the chips.

She didn't know how long she had been sitting at the table. The sunlight had faded hours ago...her sandwich was long gone. She sat alone in the darkness...a very confused woman, the last round of tears were only traces of salt. It was late, hours past her bedtime. She locked up and moved through the darkness into their room. She flicked on the lamp beside the bed...he didn't even move. He hadn't even bothered to pull the covers back. She struggled to get his boots off, finally winning the battle and placing them under the bed. It wasn't an act of kindness...simply self preservation...they hurt like hell when he kicked her in his sleep.

She undressed, making sure to hang her dress up properly...she could wear it tomorrow. She looked at it and laughed sadly. I wonder why I worried...he wouldn't have noticed if I had greeted him naked...with cum dripping out of my pussy. She flicked off the light slipped into bed. She lay there, peering out into the darkness. She still couldn't stop kicking herself for what she had done. Why?

The bed moved as her husband shifted onto his side...at least he won't snore now. Suddenly she felt overwhelmed and failed to fight back another round of tears. It wasn't guilt that brought them on this time...there were different things popping into her head So his friends wear cheap perfume......that son of a bitch. Her initial hurt quickly turned into anger. Things started making a lot of sense...where they'd gone the last few years. How could I have been so stupid? No wonder I did what I did. I almost begged him to fuck me this morning...and nothing happened...and I've always done everything I could do for that bastard.

The self deprecation phase quickly diminished as the rationalization process developed. Whoever she was, the slut got the shorter end of the stick. She laughed silently at the unintentional pun. You know, woman...that window is going to be there in the morning. She was angry but absolved as she closed her eyes and fell asleep. And to think it only took some cheap perfume.

(You probably noticed that there were no names given. I wrote this for those of you who have been there. Read it again...think about it. Use your own names...add the touches or changes that make it your story. Then smile or wipe away the tears it brings to your eyes as you rethink what it was really all about.)