Finishing Each Other's Sentences

These are chapters 1 & 2 of a story I am writing. As I am new to long-form writing, I wanted to get some parts up early to get feedback. I will be adding quite a bit more to this story later. For now though, feel free to leave feedback of any kind!

- Jeff

*****

As David walked down the block, the cold started to creep into his body. It was early December, but even so this was a particularly chilled evening. The cold wind pierced his jacket - which was more of a fall jacket than a full winter jacket - but it could not pierce his mind, for it was focused on issues more damning than a blustery Canadian winter evening.

The reality was that David had no reason to be walking down the block this evening. It was 5:33PM: he had finished work just under twenty minutes ago and could have easily hopped in his car in the parking lot outside the office. In fact, he realistically could have been home by now. But he willingly chose not to. He willingly chose to walk here. He willingly chose to avoid the problems at home with his wife Marissa.

Things had been trending downwards for them for about a year now. Their six-year marriage had been great up until this point. But now, at 28 and 26 years old - David being the elder - they were experiencing problems that many had warned them about when they got married at such a young age. It had started subtly, with the two drifting apart slowly but surely which both of them took to be a natural part of their long relationship. However the drifting never stopped. It kept going, with the two spending less time together, arguing more over smaller issues, eventually not even sleeping in the same bed together for most nights of the week. This was no longer a natural longing for a bit of personal space and individuality - this was a potential marriage-ending problem.

Now, here David was; a year down their path of slow division, slowly freezing in the cold wind just to dodge the truth that lies at home. To himself, he referred to this as his time of "Self-Exile for Self-Reflection." A pompous name to be sure, and not entirely true, but it justified his actions to himself. To give himself more time for "Self-Reflection," he told Marissa he would be working late for a few weeks. This was the third week of this and it would likely have to be the last before she got suspicious. It was already Wednesday. He was going to miss this time to himself.

That being said, it was a cold evening. A damn cold evening at that. Normally he would return home at around 8:00PM, sometimes even as late as 9:30PM. But given tonight's weather, he decided to abridge his exile in favour of a warm house. When he got to his car, it was only quarter-to-six. He'd be home by six, which was much earlier than he had been home in two-and-a-half weeks, but he couldn't take the cold any longer. After a few minutes hesitation, he fired up the car's engine and headed for home.

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Night 1 - Wednesday

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Home was a modest two-story home in a small neighborhood just on city limits. The neighbourhood was quiet and not particularly filled, so the homes had good-sized yards and decent privacy. The house itself was fairly typical: living room, dining room, and kitchen on the main floor; two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs; an unfinished basement supported it all. It wasn't a mansion by any stretch, but for the first home of a young couple it suited the bill just fine.

David came up on the house shortly after six - just as predicted. He was filled with dread at facing some sort of argument of why he was home early, or even just getting the cold shoulder for not just 2 or 3 hours but 4 or 5 instead. However even in this state of dread he was able to pick up on two things that were out of place about the house. For one, there was a car parked out front on the street. Now in normal urban neighbourhoods this is a normal occurrence, but not in this neighbourhood; the only reason someone would be parked out front was because someone was visiting.

Now this alone wouldn't have bothered David, since Marissa was a big girl who had friends she was would invite over when she felt like seeing them. The reason that the car struck him as odd was that their bedroom light was on. Never had he ever come home and seen that light on. And never would she be up there when her friends were over. Yet here David was, seeing both occurring at the same time. The coincidence seemed too much to be just that and he knew something was amiss.

Intrigued at this new happening, David decided against pulling in the driveway figuring that she wouldn't be expecting him for at least two hours so he had time to investigate - if he was smart about it. Slowly driving past the house, he parked at the small playground about a block-and-a-half from home. He walked towards home briskly, feeling heat build under his collar. A person over in the bedroom? His mind was jumping to conclusions and becoming more-and-more sure with each passing moment. He reached the house and decided the best course of action would be to enter through the back door. He reasoned that since the back door led to a porch it would be less noticeable than entering through the front door which tended to make a racket.

David cautiously unlocked the back door and entered, he paused listening for movement for a few seconds before gingerly closing the door behind. Here in the back porch he waited for two minutes, listening for any audio clues. The back porch entered into the kitchen which was connected to the rest of the downstairs by a circular open floor plan. By waiting here, he would be able to hear any movement that happened on the main level. But he never heard anything. The main floor was dead silent. David's face flushed a little red as his mind started racing again.

He cleared his head, determined to move forwards. Gently he cracked the door to the kitchen: still nothing. He slipped inside and returned the door to its closed state. The kitchen was slightly dirty, as it was clear food had been prepared likely for supper. He noted dirty dishes left by the sink: two sets of plates, glasses, and utensils. A further sign that more people than just his wife was here.

It was then that David heard the first signs of life in the house: the unmistakable sound of something heavy landing on a bed and springing. If David was warm before, he was boiling now. The heat burned on his cheeks. There was no avoiding it now: his wife and the stranger were in the bedroom.

He slipped off his shoes as too mask his footsteps. As quietly as possible, David started up the stairs. The stairs meet the middle of a hallway: to the left are a bedroom and a bathroom, to the right is the master bedroom - which they obviously used. He reached the top of the stairs and peered left. Both doors open. To the right, their bedroom door was closed with light leaking out under the door. And that was when David had his suspicions and fears answered once and for all.

Squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak ... the unmistakable sound for a mattress compressing and uncompressing in rapid succession.

Mmhmm mmhmm mhm mmm mhhhm ... the familiar sound of Marissa moaning as she was experiencing the pleasure of sex.

Uuuh uhh uuuuhh uhh mm ... the common refrain of a man pumping his cock into something wet and warm.

David was devastated. The anger that was building subsided into pain and misery. His wife - his beautiful wife - was busy fucking another man in their home - in their bed! He wanted to cry but he couldn't, lest he give himself away. In his grief he almost feel down the stairs, luckily catching himself before he did. He didn't know what to do, what to feel. He just lost himself for what probably was only five minutes but felt a lifetime. Suddenly, he heard the moaning and groaning stop and they started to talk. With much difficulty, David pulled himself closer to the door to hear what his adulterous wife had to say for herself.

"My god baby, it feels so good when you fuck me like that" Marissa said, a slight moan coming out as she did.

"Fuck baby, I'm glad you like it just as much as me. But why'd you stop me?" the unknown male voice asked.

David froze. Had he been found out? Panic started to rise in his throat.

"C'mon baby you know we have to keep an eye on the time. Da ... My husband could be home at any time" she replied, deliberately stopping herself from naming her husband.

"Fuck baby girl who cares, let him watch a real man fuck you."

"You keep that up and you won't be fucking me either. I still love him, I just ... need a little more. So here's the deal: you've got five minutes. Make them count, then you're leaving. If you make me cum, I'll invite you back tomorrow." A bit of a purr came out with the last bit.

"How about this though babe: you let me take this condo off and pump that pussy full of my hot cum and I'll do you the favour of coming back tomorrow to do it again" he retorted adding a slight laugh.

"Don't go acting like I'm the lucky one: you know you've never had better" she giggled and an ass slap was heard. "And I told you, maybe we'll go bareback someday but for now I want you to use a condom, so cumming on my face and tits will have to do ... my stallion."

"Mmm you make a good offer babe ... but how long do we have to go? This is like our eighth time already!"

David's jaw damn near hit the floor. Eight, what the fuck? Now the grief subsided. Anger reigned supreme once more.

"When I feel comfortable. I make the rules here, not you. Now get that fat cock over here and fuck me till I cum all over it."

And with that the fucking recommenced: louder, more punctuated, more ... animalistic. David seethed. He couldn't believe what was happening! His wife, his wife that he had loved and cared for was now giving herself to another man. Eight times! With more on the way! He wanted to barge in, to break up their fucking and set them straight ... but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Something deep within stopped him. No, he wanted more. He wanted satisfaction. The anger had cooled and was morphing into jealously and lust ... for vengeance.

David decided to leave. He had heard enough of them and their romp. He needed to clear his head and devise a plan. Something devious. Something that would hurt her even more than she had hurt him.

He slipped on his shoes and slinked out the way he came in, returning to his car. Then he drove. To nowhere in particular, he just roamed aimlessly thinking, plotting. He didn't return home until 9:30 that night. He gave the customary pleasantries to his wife but basically avoided her for the rest of the night. He slept in the second bedroom, avoiding the tainted whore room their typically bedroom had become. Before the night was out though, he had his plan. He was going level the field.

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Night 2 - Thursday

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At work the next day, David struggled to be productive. His mind was understandably elsewhere. When quarter-after-five rolled around, he was ready to leave. He was ready to start his plan.

The plan in question focused around something Marissa had said the night before: that she still loved him but just needed a little more. That, combined with her avoiding saying his name, led him to believe that she justified her adultery by distancing it from her relationship. Yes, it had a direct impact on it and she was aware of that, but she tried to keep them separate. Her marriage was about love, the adultery just about sex. So David decided that the best way to enact revenge was to tie them together. Close that gap. Make her face her marriage and her extra-marital fucking at the same time.

The way he decided to do it would be painful, but necessary. David was going to record via audio, pictures, video - whatever really - her affairs and confront her once he had a full complement of incriminating evidence. It would hurt him, since he would have to record it all. But his desire for vengeance would overtake the pain. It would be worth it in the end, he decided.

Tonight would be the first night. He knew, based on the conversation he overheard last night, that the mysterious man would be over again tonight to fuck his wife. David's plan was to camp it out, wait for them to head to the bedroom and get busy, and then use his phone to record the audio of them violating his marriage.

Even just thinking about it made him feel the sadness mixed with anger well up in his throat. But he had to. He had to make Marissa understand her mistakes and pay for them as he was now. With this in mind, David immediately headed home after work - no walk for today. He had business to tend to.

As David drove past the house he noticed the same car parked out front. Good, he thought. I can start tonight. Similar to yesterday, he slowly drove by and parked at the playground before slowly making his way back to the house. This time though, there was a difference. They weren't already in the bedroom, instead David noted the shadows moving in the kitchen window. They were still in the foreplay. "Damn" he cursed under his breath. This might take some time.

He debated a few moments whether he should enter the back room or wait outside for them to move away. On the one hand, the back room was very close and could give him away. On the other hand, they had no reason the enter it. In the end the deciding factor was it was still cold out. Damn winter winds ...

Sneakily entering the back room, David sat on the floor against the wall thankful for the refuge from the chilling wind. Inside he could hear his wife chatting with the man. The conversation was obviously muffled by the wall, but from the sounds of it they were just making small talk while cooking some food. Weirdly, David was disappointed by this. He was disappointed to find they weren't having sex already and even more so when they weren't even being lewd in the presumed lead up to it. It was as if they were just regular friends. "Christ, if all she wanted was shitty conversation I thought we had that in spades together" he joked to himself. He caught himself. All day he could hardly work from how upset this all made him but now here he was cracking jokes and actually being impatient that they weren't getting down to brass tax. What was wrong with him? This is his wife with another man! He should be fuming, ready to knock down the door and start swinging, not impatient hoping to hear them ...

His thoughts were interrupted by a new sound: his wife giggling. But not just giggling, giggling in a way that he knew too well from the past. She was getting hot and bothered.

"Showtime Davey boy" he thought.

"I still can't believe a girl that looks like you can cook so well! I would have figured you spent too much time on your back to learn baby."

"Well isn't that your fault for judging a book by its cover? If I did the same to you, I never would have thought that a body like that could have such a big cock. I would have pegged you for an overcompensator. A ripped stud with a big truck and a 4 inch willy. Luckily I didn't and instead I found a cock worthy of worship." A pause and then what sounded like kissing. Things were heating up between them.

"You're too kind baby girl" he managed to get out between the loud wet kisses.

"No honey, too kind would be dropping to my knees right here and sucking your fat cock in the kitchen right after I cooked you supper." More loud kissing. "That being said, you weren't wrong. I am too kind. I just hadn't yet lived up to it yet."

With that, David heard the kissing stop and the light sound of knees hitting the floor. A quick zip followed.

"Fuck it's so big honey. I surprise myself everytime" Marissa said in awe. That apparently didn't cause her any pause though as David quickly heard her take his (apparently) large cock in her mouth and start to suck. He was so stupefied for a minute that he almost forgot why he was here: he needed to record this. Quickly David pulled out his phone and snuck up to the door. He pressed the record button on the audio recorder he downloaded and put it near the crack in the bottom to get the best sound.

He heard the smacking and slurping of his wife's spit coating the cock as she sucked it for all she was worth. The deep groans of the man enjoying his wife's (admittedly stellar) blowjob skills. He heard he gasp for air and loudly moan after gagging on the cock trying to deepthroat it. His wife wasn't sucking that cock, she was treating it to a 5-star stay at the retreat known as La Bouche Talentueuse de Marissa.

It went on for about five minutes before his wife stopped. "Alright, enough of this. My pussy is hot and ready for that cock baby." He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He just had to grunt in agreement and follow. And with that, off they went quickly going upstairs to get the real party started.

David stopped the recording. He was lightheaded. Yes, he had heard them going at it last night. But now that he was hear, expecting it, anticipating it and recording it ... it was a whole new ball game. He paused to catch his breath before he would head upstairs. Much to his surprise, he noticed that he wasn't really angry, nor was he sad. Just light-headed ... and with a mild erection. What the fuck is happening to me, he thought. He realized though that he had no time to stop and think. He needed to get upstairs and get the real action recorded.

Once he refocused on the task at hand he figured he would be in the clear to go up. And he was right. Marissa had wasted no time in getting that cock in her undoubtedly soaking wet pussy. Even though David was separated by a door, he could hear every detail of what was happening. The sounds were very similar to when he stumbled upon their affair last night: bed squeaking, moaning, groaning ... all the typical noises. But since he was here for the beginning this time, they were much more intense. Louder. Faster. Unlike last night he could hear the wet slap of the balls smacking his wife's skin, wet from her own pussy juices. As he laid on the floor, phone near the door crack recording all the lust happening in his bedroom, David couldn't help but picture the scene in his head.

His wife, Marissa: 5'5" at 130lbs. A good build to her, skinny with extra girth where it mattered. Nice perky C-cup breasts and a nice meaty ass to grab. Her long brunette hair stretching well past her shoulders, mostly straight with just a bit of bounce, most likely in a ponytail - as she preferred. Her snatch trimmed but not clean shaven, a nice strip left. She probably had some makeup on, a bit of eyeliner to make her beautiful green eyes pop, some foundation, and a nice deep red lipstick.

Fuck. Even after six years of marriage the thought of Marissa butt-naked never ceased to get him hard.

He pictured her, on her back holding her legs just above her knees as she pulled them up and apart: her cute feet dangling at the ends, her toes curled with pleasure. Between her legs pumped a hard cock - at least 9 inches, circumcised, and girthy. He didn't really picture who it was attached to suffice to say he was olive complexioned and ripped: just a stereotypical hot guy with a fat cock. They were at the edge of the bed and he was standing using his hands to brace himself against the bed almost in a pushup position over her while she held her legs open. He was fucking her for all he was worth. David could hear that much. The slapping, the wet squish, the rapid squeaking of the bed: he wasn't holding back.

And she wasn't either. Marissa wasn't the loudest in bed typically, but when she really got into she really got into it - and she was into it right now. Moaning, groaning, squeaking, yelping. She was doing it all. "Fuck .. fuck ... fuck yes ... yes baby .. oh my god ... fuck .. your cock ... feels so ... so fucking good ... oh my ... fuck ... I love it ... baby." She couldn't even get two words out before needing to yelp or moan or even just get more breath in. She was in heaven right now.