Me and Danny Ch. 06

Christmas Eve was a blisteringly frosty day, and it had nothing to do with the winter wonderland raging outside of my windows. A snowstorm was covering the city with a harsh, stark-white blanket, but the frigid temperature between me and Danny made that seem like a pleasant summer day at the beach.

Our chill factor was one born of silence. But not just any silence. This silence was alive and pregnant with tension. Not having anything to say is one thing, but having a multitude of words NOT being said is an entirely different kind of beasty. It's the kind of silence that screams out, begging to be put to death.

We had to talk about what happened between us. The "r" word hung over us like a cloud. The problem was, I didn't want to. On the one hand, I was still unsure exactly WHAT happened. On the other, I hadn't come to grips with how I felt.

On the shallow surface, it was rape. Plain and simple. He penetrated me without my consent and didn't' stop when I told him to. Any textbook describing that event would categorize that without hesitation.

But nothing between me and Danny is ever that simple.

Our "game" was built on the premise of pushing the boundaries of consent. That's what made it so fun and addicting. He'd do something, I'd react (or not react), and a new boundary was set. That's how we got from him peeping on me in the shower to him erupting his copious load of jizz down my gullet.

I enjoyed him pushing my boundaries. I enjoyed not knowing what he was going to try next. I enjoyed that sense of submission I got from giving in to his desires.

However, at the end of the day, sex was the ONE THING I said was off limits. I'd been saying it from the very beginning. It was rule number 1. He willingly agreed to it. He KNEW how I felt about it. But when his cock got hard, he decided my boundaries no longer mattered.

But then again, within the last week we pretty much covered the gambit of sex play two people can do. I sucked his cock. He ate my pussy (and pretty much licked everywhere on my body). I stuck my fingers in his ass. He tied me up. He used ALL my sex toys on me.

Our lines of impropriety had long ago blurred. Sticking his cock inside of my pussy was but a natural progression to the ever-evolving "game". Honestly, with the way we were going, his dick would've probably been wet with my juices by now anyway. I had no self-control when it came to him. I couldn't even explain the power he had over me. It made no sense. I loved my husband deeply. Danny was 2 decades my junior. He wasn't suave. He wasn't tall. He wasn't drop dead gorgeous.

And yet, I wanted nothing more than to please him; to see that confident spark in his eyes. It was such a turn on as he shot his cum all over me.

So, if that's the case, why was I so hurt? So angry with him?

Because for the first time, I felt used. And not the kind of used feeling I get off on with my submissive streak. I felt like a cheap trick, like my only purpose was providing life support for the wet holes he wanted to stick his dick in. After everything I let him do to me, he still felt entitled to my pussy, no matter if I wanted to or not.

I'd given him so much of myself; more than I intended. I risked everything. The game itself was so stupid. Why would a woman in my position even risk her life for a thrill so cheap? But it wasn't a cheap thrill for me. I loved the Danny that was emerging from the shell he was in. The metamorphosis was such a delight to witness. I loved him enough to yearn for that.

That was the Oedipal duality of our relationship. I was both a mother and a lover. That was who "Auntie Ronnie" was.

In essence, Danny's rape wasn't to my body, it was to my heart. That's the part that hurt. Not his cock. The disrespect.

So, for the two days after that night, I walked around my house with two clouds overhead. One was a raging thunderstorm of anger. The other was a meek, grey cloud of hurt. At any moment, either cloud could dominate my mood.

For his part, Danny tried his best to avoid me. He hid in the safety of his room, even more so than he did before. He only emerged to sneak off to work, to the bathroom, or to greet the door dash deliverer to get his food (I'd stopped cooking for him).

The couple of times our paths crossed, he'd look at me with sorrowful, puppy dog eyes, as if inquiring if I were still upset with him. Whenever I caught a glimpse of him in the brief moments before he scurried back into his hole, I felt his cock inside of me. I heard him grunting behind me as he raped me.

So, I'd cut my eyes away from him with a "harumph", and he'd simply droop his shoulders and walk away quietly, tail firmly tucked between his legs.

But there was another side of things; a part of the puzzle I didn't want to acknowledge.

Every so often, my mind would flash to the things me and Danny did. His eyes secretly watching me in the shower with my full knowledge. His long cock in my mouth, plastering hot spunk all over my throat, his tongue on my ass...

My body (my pussy mainly) twitched at the memory of his smooth, long cock inside of my wet pussy. I remembered how different it felt to Martin's. Not better, but different in a good way. it didn't stretch me open as wide, but it reached places inside of me that hadn't been touched by my husband's cock. Right before Danny shot his massive load inside of my womb, he pushed himself all the way inside me, bottoming out inside of my cunt. It was both and uncomfortable and pleasurable sensation to have him jab me all the way to the end of my walls.

The orgasm I was on the verge of having, the fact that on some level I was enjoying my rape; that's the worst of it. The betrayal of my body was worse than Danny's betrayal. While my mind was pissed that Danny broke my trust, my body yearned for the forbidden cock that was the polar opposite of my husband's.

My mind and my body were at war with each other. My mind told me that Danny took my pussy without permission. He raped me. But my body told the same story with a different twist. It said he took control of me, took what he wanted, and made me submit to his desire, just like I always wanted him to.

On the one hand, how dare he? On the other hand, oh baby! My submissive lust was inflamed by the thought. My thighs tingled at the memory of him taking what he wanted from me, despite me telling him my pussy was off limits. It was so.... domineering. So Alpha. So hot.

I'm such a fucking pervert. My kinks are so confusing. This thing with Danny had opened a hidden compartment inside of me that I never knew existed. I've always been a sexual person, losing my virginity at such a young age. But Danny was pushing "Auntie Ronnie" to boundaries that were kind of scary.

And I liked it.

So, while I was angry at Danny for violating my trust, I was turned on by his audacity. My mind sent my imagination to different scenarios of being forced to submit. I imagined myself tied up again, helpless to stop him from invading my pussy, my ass, my mouth. Only this time, he didn't use my toys on me. He chose to do something much more primal to my vulnerable body.

So, on Christmas Eve morning, as I was on the phone with Martin, he addressed the elephant in the room. Of course, he didn't know which elephant he was addressing, only that something was off with me. Right in the middle of our conversation, he abruptly asked, "What's going on with you, Ronnie?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I don't know." He said, concern filling his voice. "You've just been out of sorts since I left for this trip. You're always distracted. You rush me off the phone. You didn't even tell me you got sick and lost your voice. Danny had to tell me."

Trying to insert a light-hearted joke to curb the discomfort at his questioning, I said, "Well, I couldn't very well tell you I lost my voice...you know...with no voice..."

He didn't laugh. "You could've texted. I was worried about you." He cut me off, clearly not letting anything deter him.

I sighed. "You're right, babe. I'm sorry."

There was a pause that lasted a moment longer than was comfortable. Finally, Martin asked, "Is there something going on? Should I be worried?"

I wanted to talk to him about it. There was so much to unpack. I was confused, stressed, and the guilt was eating away at me from the inside out. Martin had always been my shelter. I'm not saying that I could talk to him about anything. We didn't have that kind of communication (as much as I wished we did). In fact, a lot of times, I think he barely heard me.

But Martin has the ability to make me feel safe. He is always so strong, self-assured, and powerful. No matter what is falling apart around me, he'd calmly look me in the eyes, as if to -say, "Everything's gonna be okay, Ronnie. I've got you."

But now, I couldn't go to him with this Danny thing. I couldn't tell him that Danny fucked me without my permission, and now my heart is broken because I'd given my body to him in every other possible way. I couldn't tell him that Danny made me cum so hard and so often in the last week that I craved his touch while simultaneously chastising myself for it. I definitely couldn't tell him that I secretly wanted Danny to take me without my permission, yet at the same time was angry with him for actually doing it.

I was so confused, and angry, and guilt-ridden, and horny. But I couldn't tell him any of that.

"I just miss you, baby." I partially lied. I did miss him, but it was nowhere near the source of my aloof behavior over the past week. "It just sucks that you're gone during ANOTHER holiday."

I must have triggered his own guilt because he readily bought that reasoning. "Yeah. I know me being gone for Christmas is a bummer. I'm sorry about that."

"I'm used to it." I responded, capping it off with a passive aggressive sigh.

Yes, I know it was an unnecessary punishment as well as me deflecting my feelings towards Danny onto him. But him being gone all the time was part of the reason I was in this mess. If he were here more often, maybe I wouldn't have allowed what happened between me and Danny to happen in the first place! As much as I knew I couldn't lay my actions at Martin's feet, it didn't stop my feelings of making his absence the scapegoat.

"I'm sorry. That was bitchy." I apologized.

"It's okay." He said. Then, with a fake, sad sigh sounding identical to mine, he hit me back by jokingly saying, "I'm used to it."

We burst out laughing together.

"You're such a douche."

"I know. But I think that's what you love about me."

I let off some more laughter. It felt good considering my dark cloud hanging overhead. Honestly, I loved this man, despite my actions saying otherwise. He was a good man, better than I deserved.

In a serious tone that betrayed the playful banter we'd started, I said, "I love everything about you, Martin. Everything. Even the stuff I don't love."

"Ditto."

With that, I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. How could I love him while simultaneously enjoying all the things I was doing with Danny? Even now as I talked with him, despite the fact that Danny took my pussy without my consent, I couldn't stop the warm feeling in my tummy as my brain betrayed my outrage with memories of his tongue flicking my clit. That warm feeling spread throughout my body as I mentally relived that deliciously helpless sensation of being bound and spread. That humiliation of Danny forcing me to open all my precious orifices using nothing more than sashes from my own robes was so rich with lust that I thought I might come right there. Even the thought of his long cock sliding in and out of me without my permission was so shameful that it was...hot.

And just like that, I was turned on, my pussy moistening and thighs tingling. I tell ya, it's like a fucking light switch.

"Red." I said suddenly.

"Huh?"

I was sitting up in my bed, leaning back against the headboard. I shifted my body down to laying on my back before I said, "I'm wearing red panties."

He paused for a minute, trying to catch up to me and no doubt recovering from the whiplash of the sudden turn this conversation took.

"Did I ask you that?" he asked, curiosity and lust mixing in his baritone voice.

"I don't know. Does it matter now?"

"Nope."

I heard his throat rumble with a deep, "Mmmm." There was another pause before he said, "I'm hanging up. We're continuing this call on video."

My kitty jumped at the idea of phone sex. She needed a little release. "Okay." I answered him in a little girl's voice before hanging up and waiting for him.

Not even a full minute later, my phone was ringing again with a video call. When I answered it, the tip of my pointer finger was shyly in my mouth as I smiled and said, "Hey."

"Hey yourself." He wore a lascivious grin on his face before he said to me, "Now, let me see those red panties you're wearing."

I know he was expecting me to pan down my body and show him them, but I couldn't. I couldn't show them because in the time it took for him to call me, I'd already slipped them off. I was laying naked from the waist down in my bed, my hot pussy practically ruining the duvet under me.

I held them up to the camera. "I took them off already." I said, my little girl's voice apologizing.

"What the..."

I giggled.

In a commanding voice, he ordered, "Show me your pussy. I wanna see you play with yourself."

What could I do? You know I have a submissive streak.

So, I held the phone down between my legs with one hand, making sure the camera was catching everything. With my "mouse-clicking hand", I slipped my two middle fingers between the folds of my pussy. Clinching my clit between them, I started stimulating it by rotating in wild circles.

It didn't take long for my hot pussy to start shooting waves of pleasure throughout my body. I played with myself loudly. And I mean loudly. My wet pussy was making squishy noises as my hand, with a mind of its own, rotated faster and faster to stay ahead of the building climax. My wails of ecstasy practically bounced off the walls.

"OH GOD!" I cried out as I threw my head back into the pillow. Martin was watching me masturbate. That thought drove me even deeper into lust. He was watching my pussy...my hands...my body...

Suddenly, Danny filled my head. He'd love this vision that Martin was enjoying. He'd be so hard right now, that long, thin dick jutting out in front of him. What would he do? Would he stroke it? No, he'd probably put it in my mouth like he did that first night.

"OH FFFFFFFFFUCK!" I cried as my bodied sprinted towards that orgasm.

Danny's long cock forcing its way down my throat...

That look of triumph in his eyes...

That grin of knowing he has the power to make me submit.

Him erupting in my mouth, making me swallow every drop....

"I'm gonna cum!" I cried loudly, my hand moving at warp speed.

"Cum for me, Ronnie. Cum for me!" Martin ordered.

I had to comply. My submissive streak compelled me to do as I was told, to give Martin what he wanted. I had no choice in the matter.

Just like I had no choice that morning that I awakened to Danny fucking me, taking my pussy and using it for his pleasure...

"OH, MY GODDDDDDD!!!!!"

My internal explosion was massive. Right before my husband's voyeuristic eyes, I came with the force of a sonic boom. There was a loud noise surrounding me, but I soon realized that it was just the moaning forcing its way out of my trembling lips.

I laid there, legs splayed open and heavily panting. The two fingers of my masturbating hand were glistening shiny with the juices from my vagina. I didn't realize that I'd dropped the phone until I heard Martin's muffled voice calling out to me from the bedspread.

"I'm so sorry baby." I said in a panting voice as I picked up the phone.

He laughed aloud, obviously amused by my state. "That was fucking hot. I should've joined you."

"Yeah, you definitely missed out." I said with a breathless giggle. "Note for next time. When I show that my panties are in my hand, you best get your dick out. Now you'll have to finish yourself off all alone."

"Wait! You aren't gonna help me?"

I gave him the Monopoly Man shrug. "Sorry babe. Like I said, note for next time. Less watching, more participating."

He gave a throaty growl as he acquiesced. "Fine. I guess I'll have to accept that. I can finish myself off when I have a moment. I was recording anyway, so I have plenty of jerk off material to help me along."

"Wait...what?"

"Gotta go, Ronnie. Love you." He said, completely brushing past the fact that there was now a video out there that featured me fingering myself.

"Hold up, Martin. About that video..."

With the sinister smile of a crocodile, he said, "Buh bye!" before ending the call.

"That sneaky bastard!" I thought to myself with a small laugh.

Still, now that I was alone, I was aware of how quiet it was in my house. The silence made me blush, because it made me realize just how loud I'd been not even 5 minutes ago.

Did Danny hear me?"

My eyes looked to my closed bedroom door. It wasn't locked. Danny could've walked in while I was masturbating, or in the very least creaked open the door for a peek. A part of me expected to see him there, shyly watching me.

But he wasn't.

I got out of bed and walked to the door. I didn't know what I was going to do, or why I was going to Danny's room. All I knew was that I wanted to see him, to talk to him, to resolve this...chasm between us. We needed to talk this out.

I swung open my door, prepared to march across the long hallway to his room. However, I stopped in my tracks and gasped in surprise.

Danny was standing right there in front of my bedroom door. He was listening to me, drawn to my cries of pleasure. Like a moth to a flame

His face first looked shocked to see me suddenly there. Then, it looked guilty, his eyes wide with a "hand in the cookie jar" expression.

"Auntie Ronnie...I...uh..."

The way he stammered and sputtered nervously brought me back to that first time I was about to confront him about watching me shower. The way he was standing there trying to feebly apologize was both enduring and sad at the same time.

I didn't want to yell at him. I didn't want to be angry at him anymore.

"I'm so...sorry!" He finally got out. Then, right before my eyes, his countenance disintegrated. He broke down into shoulder shaking sobs, his head looking down at the ground as he cried. "I never meant to..."

But nothing else came out. Just more sobs.

Tears were forcing their way to my eyes too. It's not like I wanted to see him suffer, but to know that he recognized the pain he put me through, and the fact that he was just as heartbroken about it as I was, made me love him that much more. It also made me forgive him. He was still my sweet Danny.

I pulled him into me for a hug, which only made him cry even harder. "I would never hurt you, Aunt Ronnie! You gotta believe me!" he sobbed into my neck, his tears burning my skin.

"I do, baby. I do." I said, trying to ease his pain.

We stood there like that, me comforting him as he cried and apologized. It was maybe a 5-minute time span that seemed like the clock broke.

"We should talk, Danny." I said. He nodded, his eyes red with fresh tears. So, I took him by the hand and invited him into my bedroom for the first time in 48 hours. But this wasn't the illicit reunion of two lovers. This was a long overdue conversation that needed to be had.

So, we had a long talk. I was able to tell him how and why what he did hurt me so much. I also felt he needed to know about how consent works. Our "game" may have muddied the waters in his mind about the dynamic between men and women, and I needed him to understand. Tears of apology mayh not work for the next girl.