Guess What Honey? Ch. 02

"God damn if you aren't sexy when you're coming on my black cock," Baptiste said brashly. Despite trying to fight the urge, I found myself resenting him, too - more with each passing second.

Even worse than what Maddie had admitted, and even more aggravating than Baptiste's cocky attitude, was the fact that my cock was still so hard that it hurt. I didn't want it to be. I really and truly didn't. I desperately wanted to be able to tell my wife later that her liaison with her new bull had been the least arousing thing that I'd ever encountered. But you can't say that, can you? Because your dick is so hard it hurts. You substantially smaller dick...

I groaned audibly, shifting in my seat. I quickly tossed back the rest of my drink before opening another bottle and pouring it dry into the tumbler. I downed that glass in two large gulps and reached for the third, pausing a second to wonder if getting drunk was a smart move.

"Who owns this pussy, baby?" Baptiste demanded. It was like he'd known exactly when to twist the knife. My entire body tensed up, and sheer hatred for him raced through me.

"You do, Daddy!" Maddie answered, sounding somewhat weaker from her latest climax, but no less unsure.

My shoulders slumped; my heart broke. I broke.

Picking up the last bottle of alcohol, I quickly broke the seal and poured it into the glass. Getting drunk seemed like a hell of a good idea. Getting blackout drunk sounded like an even better one.

In the minutes since I'd decided to take up alcoholism, Baptiste had rolled Maddie over to her side to face my direction. He'd then thrown her right leg up over his shoulder while placing his right leg between her left before once again plugging his cock into her cunt like an obscenely large electrical plug into a socket. Maddie was still ignoring me, her eyes closed as she bleated out her approval of each pounding stroke. Her cries joined the rhythmic pounding of Baptiste's flesh against hers, their ongoing duet one song I could do without ever hearing again.

"I'm going to come, baby," Baptiste announced loudly as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. "Come with me, slut!"

"Yes, Daddy, yes!" Maddie replied, once again wrapping her lower legs around his waist as she began to work them, pulling herself up into each of his thrusts. "Come in me! Fill me up with your black seed!"

I watched as Baptiste lowered his head, his mouth settling against the side of Maddie's head as he continued to thrust inside of her. I couldn't tell what he was doing for a second, but then I saw his lower jaw was working and it became clear that he was talking to her in a soft voice.

"I'm going to come, slut," Baptiste announced with a roar before clamping his mouth down on her neck as he pounded her relentlessly. I saw Maddie stiffen beneath him and knew that she was climaxing, only that time, she didn't do so silently.

"Breed me, Daddy... Put a baby in me!"

As if heeding her demand, Baptiste released his climax with a roar, emptying his seed inside of my wife as what she'd just asked of him struck home with me. I sat forward in my chair, firing up out of it as if to stop what had already transpired. In the end, I said nothing; I didn't want to look as foolish as I already felt. When I looked down, my hands were curled into fists, and I was embarrassed to realize that there was murder in my heart.

I quietly sat back down - not that my wife had taken notice of anything I'd done so far that night. Thank God for small blessings, I guess. But if I don't put a stop to this right now, then there's an incredibly good chance that I'm going to lose control.

On the bed, the pair had finally stopped their mating, though Baptiste's mammoth black cock was still hilted inside my wife's pink velvet sheath. Baptiste seemed to be kissing her neck and whispering to her; Maddie was listening intently and nodding her head slightly as he gyrated his hips, stirring the load he'd implanted in my wife's womb.

I waited for them to separate, which didn't happen for another few minutes. Baptiste slid off the bed and stood to stretch his body while Maddie lay there with her legs still open. Her normally beautiful flower was a mess. It was beet red and widely dilated, with a large globule of Baptiste's slick seed starting to run out of it. I looked up and tried to get my wife's attention, but her eyes were elsewhere. Her baby blues were still looking up at her new lover - or, more accurately, at his giant, still-mostly-erect member.

"Maddie," I said, my own voice sounding odd in my ears. It did seem to momentarily rupture the erotic fugue my wife's conscious mind had been trapped in since Baptiste had walked into the bar.

Her eyes finally found mine, and she seemed too surprised to see me. She looked away from me and back toward Baptiste as if struggling to tear her attention away from his magnanimous magnificence. Baptiste looked at me too, and his eyes narrowed in confusion as if he could sense what I was about to say.

"That's enough for tonight," I said as I stood up out of my seat, the room spinning slightly letting me know that I was well on my way to being drunk.

Maddie's eyes bounced back and forth between me and Baptiste, offering me a look of confusion while seeming to plead with him to say something. I gave her a firm look that let her know that I was serious. It was one of our tenets. We could both call quits to an encounter at any time, and the other would accept what was happening without question.

"Naw, man," Baptiste said, "I'm good for at least a couple of more hours as long as Maddie is game."

I looked at my wife, waiting on her to tell him that was it. Her eyes ping-ponged back and forth between us with a look of frustration before they surprised me by settling on me. Just before she spoke, I already knew what my wife was about to say.

"I'm not ready for tonight to end, Peter," she announced, putting an emphasis on my name that always warned me that she was ready to hold firm to her decision.

"We agreed, Maddie. Either of us could call it over at any point, for any reason, and the other wouldn't argue."

"I need this, though," my wife replied selfishly, as though she hadn't heard a single word I'd said.

"Come on, Pete," Baptiste said in his smooth-talking tone. "Just let us play together a little longer."

"I'm not stopping yet, Peter," Maddie added with frustration. "And if you can't handle it, then maybe you should wait downstairs in the bar."

And with that, she pointed at the door and gave me a look that I'd only ever seen her give our girls. It was the one that said there was no hope of getting her to change her mind, and that any further attempts at discussion would only piss her off. It was right on the tip of my tongue to tell my wife that she could go fuck herself when Baptiste interrupted my train of thought.

"Hey, do you care to join me in a hot shower?"

"That sounds fun," Maddie replied, offering him a seductive smile and sliding out of the bed. I stood there stunned at this turn of events and watched as my naked wife sauntered after her new lover, stopping just inside the door jamb to look back my way. "I mean it, Peter. Don't ruin this for me."

With that, she stepped inside and closed the door. I bit my bottom lip while digging the nails of both hands into my palms as I closed them together into tight fists while feeling a murderous rage well up inside me.

It was at that moment that two things occurred to me. One was that I needed to leave this room before I killed Baptiste and the mother of my children. And the other?

One was that I needed to leave this room before I killed Baptiste and the mother of my children. And the other?

I was no longer hard.

<<<<<>>>>>

I sat in the bar nearly two hours later with a drink in my hand, the room feeling out of focus for me thanks to the amount of alcohol I'd consumed. It was my third bourbon since retreating from my hotel room to keep from committing multiple felonies. I'd also downed two shots of tequila and was reasonably certain that I was only a few ounces away from achieving my goal of being blackout drunk.

I tossed back the rest of the amber liquid in my glass and held up my tumbler in the air to signal to the bartender that I wanted another. I watched as he finished wiping the other end of the bar before slowly walking toward me, a look of caution on his face. Seeing it let me know that my luck on the night hadn't changed.

"I have to cut you off my friend," he said, taking my glass and dropping it in a sink of suds-filled water. "I'm sorry, but you've already had too much. Why don't you wait here, and I'll call for a bellhop to help you up to your room?"

"I can't go up there," I announced with a shake of my head. "My wife is up there fucking some other guy."

An uncomfortable look blossomed on the bartender's face, and he took a step back. Then I saw pity in his eyes and the look of it made me feel ashamed all over again. I felt my stomach roll and was suddenly uncertain if that last drink was such a smart idea.

"Can you at least give me a glass of ice water?" I asked, my words slurring more than a little, even to my own ears.

"Sure, that's probably a good idea."

I watched as he made my drink, trying to keep my mind from wandering back to the subject of what was happening up in room eight-eleven. I'd been trying and failing to do that since arriving at the bar - that, and trying to recall all the points at which I could have put a stop to the evening before it had gotten away from me.

I felt lost and utterly hopeless. I felt like I'd lost my best friend and closest confidant. Maddie meant all of that and so much more to me. I wanted to believe that she was still mine and that we could find our way back, but her betrayal stung like a bayonet to the stomach, and I didn't know if that was even possible.

"Here you go."

I took the glass from him and held it up to my lips, forcing myself to consume the entire glass. I then shook the tumbler full of ice as a signal to him that I wanted another. He offered me no argument and quickly had my glass refilled.

"How did it happen?" he asked, before quickly adding, "If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"I set it up," I admitted with a shrug, feeling my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "I've got no one to blame but myself."

"Damn," he replied.

"That about sums it up," I said, toasting him with my glass.

His eyes went over my shoulder, though it took me several seconds to catch on that someone else had caught his attention. Turning to see what he was staring at, I found my wife approaching me, her arms crisscrossed across her chest in a gesture that told me just how displeased she was with me. I took in her appearance and noted that her hair had been brushed but was clearly not coifed in the stylish manner she typically wore it. She was also wearing the outfit that she'd brought with her to wear home tomorrow.

"Why are you wearing that?" I asked loudly. "Did your new boyfriend get cum on your dress?"

Maddie's eyes went to the bartender, who quickly walked away. They then returned to me, a look of anger suddenly flaring up inside them. Welcome to my world, bitch, I thought as I tipped my glass her way and took another sip.

"Was that really necessary?" she asked in a muffled voice.

"Probably every bit as necessary as the knife you left in my back upstairs," I replied while mimicking her tone.

Maddie looked hurt and more than a little defensive at my verbal jab. I realized that I should have felt guilty about intentionally hurting the woman I loved. But I didn't.

"Can we go upstairs and talk about this?" Maddie asked, her eyes threatening to fill with tears.

"No. If we do that your liable to end up fucking your boyfriend again."

"Would you stop calling him that? You knew what this was when we got here."

"Well, I thought that I did," I replied before taking another sip of my water, "but then, I also thought we'd agreed that either one of us could call it quits anytime we wanted. But I was wrong about that, so..."

I left my point hanging out there for her to ponder. The tears that had welled up in her eyes began to escape the pool that held them. I watched as they rolled down her cheeks and was surprised that I felt no remorse for having caused them. After all, I seriously doubted she'd cried any tears for me after running me out of our room so she could go back to banging her new lover.

"Please come up to the room with me," Maddie quietly pleaded, reaching out to lightly caress my left arm. But I flinched at her touch as if it burned me, and the hurt I saw come to life in her eyes finally gave me pause.

Maddie turned and ran from the bar. I was too stunned by how callous I'd been to react to her quick retreat; the alcohol wasn't helping, either. I started to go after her, but then the thought that she might be running back to Baptiste's strong arms entered my head. I knew that walking in to find that bastard comforting the mother of my children would likely be enough to cause me to lose control.

"I take it that didn't go well," the bartender opined, back from whatever he'd rushed off to do in a hurry.

"No, it did not."

"What are you going to do?"

I turned to look at him, thinking about his question. What could I do? I certainly couldn't risk going back to my room. I supposed I could always get another one if they had one available, but the thought of spending all that money just to avoid my wife and her lover didn't sit well with me either. I then supposed I could go wander around the city until morning, but right away I discounted that notion. I didn't know Birmingham well enough to feel safe traipsing around the city so late at night. In another inexplicable moment of self-awareness, I also figured I'd probably get picked up for public drunkenness.

"I have no fucking clue," I said with a shrug.

<<<<<>>>>>

"Where in the hell have you been?" Maddie demanded to know as soon as I entered our hotel room the next morning. "I've been worried sick!" I ignored her question. The ache behind my temples felt like someone was shoving an ice pick in my brain, and the sound of her voice was a hammer banging on the end of it. I knew that I needed some Tylenol and a bottle of water from the minibar and that anything else would just have to wait until my head stopped trying to kill me.

"Well? Are you going to answer my question or not?"

I bent down to open the mini bar and fumbled around inside its confines until I found the two items I needed. I tore open the blister pack on the medication and then popped both pills in my mouth before twisting off the cap of the water and beginning to drink. It was only after I'd consumed the entire bottle and tossed it in the trash that I turned to look at my wife.

"I slept in the car. And before you ask why, I did it because the thought of walking in on you and your boyfriend made me want to vomit."

"I asked you to stop calling him that. And Baptiste had already left by the time I came and found you in the bar. He was kind enough to walk me down and even asked if I thought I'd need any help getting you back to the room."

"Well, isn't he sweet," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"As a matter of fact, he is," Maddie responded, crossing her arms again when I rolled my eyes in reply.

"Whatever, Maddie," I said, walking past her in the direction of the bathroom. "I just want to take a shower so I can try and wash all the shame off of me."

"Don't do that," Maddie said defensively.

"Do what?" I asked as I took off my shirt and tossed it aside before beginning to unfasten my pants, the typically plebeian task much harder to do with a hangover.

"Act like you played no part in this."

"That's just it, Maddie. That's the reason for my shame. I could have stopped this so many times, and believe me when I say there were times when I was tempted. But I just had to give in to my base desires, and this destructive need I have to see you happy and fulfilled. So, as far as I'm concerned, I have no one to blame but myself."

I threw my pants down in frustration and then turned to the shower, adjusting the knob until I thought that I had it at a warm enough temperature. I then sat down on the toilet and removed my socks, all the while feeling Maddie's eyes on me. My underwear quickly followed, and at last, I stepped beneath the spray, luxuriating beneath the comfort and flow of the hot water.

I stayed in the shower until the water began to run cold. Shutting off the knob, I grabbed my towel and began to dry off. Maddie had abandoned our argument unexpectedly, which was unlike her. Most of the time she'd take on the personality of a pit bull rearing for a fight, so I couldn't help but wonder why she'd surrendered so easily. I wondered if she simply agreed with me.

I stepped out of the bathroom, making sure that my waist was wrapped in a towel. It was less about modesty and more about the fact that I didn't want my wife to think about the fact that my penis was smaller than her black lover's. I already felt less than him, and I didn't need to see it in her eyes.

"We missed checkout," Maddie announced from the chair I'd been sitting in last night.

"I know," I replied, opening my suitcase and grabbing the change of clothes I'd packed. I then turned my backside to my wife and dropped my towel, quickly grabbing my undergarments and putting them on. Once I was dressed, I sat about picking up my dirty things and placing them in a plastic bag we'd packed just for that chore.

"Are we going to talk about this?"

"I think I've said everything I need to say," I replied.

"You're not the only one to blame here, Peter. I played my part willingly. I could have stopped things as well."

"That's just it, Maddie," I said, "you couldn't have, because I wouldn't have allowed it. I knew you wanted this too much, and I didn't want you to resent me later because I said no."

There were tears in her eyes again as she tried to form a response and failed. She knew that I was right. We both did.

"But you're right. You've done your fair share to damage our marriage, too."

Maddie flinched at my mention of our blemished vows. I allowed her to take my body blow without feeling guilty for having delivered it. If it left a bruise, then I just had to hope there'd be time for it to heal.

"What do you mean?" she finally asked.

"Not only was his the best black cock you've ever had, it was the best, period, according to you. Oh, and let's not forget that you claimed that he owns your pussy now. I guess I may need to at least consider taking out a lease on another one."

Maddie flinched as if I'd slapped her.

"And then there's 'Breed me, Daddy... Put a baby in me!' I said in a falsetto voice. "Tell me, Maddie, did you remember to take your birth control pill yesterday and today? Or should I have to plan to explain to the girls why their new sibling looks nothing like their daddy?"

Maddie, broke down, sobs escaping her as her chest began to heave. I hated the happiness I felt at the sight of it, but I wanted her to experience just a little bit of the hurt and uncertainty I'd felt the night before.

"Lastly, you broke our agreement - not once, but twice. You didn't stop when I said 'stop,' and you kicked me out of the room; that's how obsessed you were with your new boyfriend, pussy-owner, and baby-daddy."

"GODDAMMIT, QUIT CALLING HIM THAT!" Maddie bellowed, standing up from where she'd been sitting, her fists clenched, and unrepentant anger in her eyes.

"Why should I?" I asked. "I mean, you do want to see him again, don't you?"