Monogamy: It's Complicated Ch. 03

I felt confused. I watched Annie, but my senses drew her to me. I was becoming less an observer and more a participant. I was losing Marcie and becoming Annie. I wanted to stop now. I wanted the scene to end; but then, I didn't. I was losing my identity. I was losing control.

As Annie once again said "no", Paul forced his hand higher on her leg under her skirt and extended his fingers. With the brush of his fingers across the soaked fabric of my panties and the swollen lips within, my control failed! I lost the separation between Annie and me. I locked my legs around his hand. My last will power was lost and my avatar, Annie, vanished. Now it was me sitting at the bar staring into Paul's dark, demanding eyes and rocking against his fingers. He again whispered into my ear that he wanted to feel my body against his and his cock inside me.

This time, instead of shaking my head "no", I said in a low, mournful voice, "I can't. I'm married and my husband will be here any time now."

I searched for a way out of the bar. I scanned the darkened booths but didn't see Bill. Again, I wanted the scene to end...but then, not to end. I wanted the director to scream "cut", but then I didn't.

Paul whispered, "I don't believe your husband is coming. But we'll wait a little longer. Let's get a booth while we wait".

I was powerless to stop as I reluctantly nodded my ascent.

I loosened the pressure on my thighs and Paul withdrew his hand from between my legs. He told the bartender to deliver two more drinks to the back booth. He then rose, retrieved my jacket and took my hand. My mind said "No, I can't. I'm married." Without seeing Paul move his lips, I heard his voice say, "Yes you can. Bill has abandoned you."

I was confused, "How did he know Bill's name? Can Paul read my mind? Did I say those words or did I imagine it?"

I reluctantly rose and almost swooned when I felt the river of moisture between my legs. I looked toward Bill's booth but all I saw was darkness. I franticly searched the room for him, but he was gone. I kept saying to myself, "Bill doesn't want this. He said only some flirting and a little touching and feeling. This is going beyond that. This isn't what I want!"

"Yes, Bill wants this. He wants me to fuck you and fill your pussy with my cum. You want this too. Your soaked pussy is begging for my cock." I heard Paul say, but his lips didn't move.

In a fog of lust and failing control, I walked with Paul to a rear booth that was virtually invisible in the darkness.

Paul slid behind the table and dragged me in after him. He immediately threw his arm around me and drew me to him. He leaned forward and his mouth met mine. My lips involuntarily parted as his tongue plunged into my mouth. He grabbed me by the back of the head and held me against his lips. He began to tongue fuck my mouth, and without my conscious acceptance, my tongue responded.

He released my head when the drinks arrived so I turned toward the table and took a swallow, hoping for the liquid courage to stop this madness. It didn't come. Instead, Paul reached over and tore the zipper all the way down. I gasped and moaned as the cold air washed across my exposed breasts.

Paul roughly grabbed my breast and through the lace of my half-bra, his finger and thumb squeezed and twisted my erect nipple. The ecstatic pain shot through my breast and up my spine like a lightning bolt where it exploded into tiny, white sparks in my brain. The pain only intensified the heat of a growing orgasm beginning deep within me.

With his arm around my shoulders, Paul forced me to face him and, without releasing his grip on my nipple, he again kissed my lips, my face and my throat. He gasped into my ear that he wanted me and that he needed to fuck me. He described fucking me doggy-style; fucking me standing up against the wall; and, fucking my mouth. His words, which would have revolted me a few minutes before, simply fed my growing fever like lighter fluid on a fire.

I reached out and felt the bulge in his pants. My fingers tingled. Without any voluntary command, my fingers worked the clasp of his belt and lowered his zipper. I reached through the opening in his underwear and freed his cock. I looked down at his long, thin dick as I slowly stroked it. I rubbed his balls as he placed his hand on the back of my head and slowly pulled me forward and down toward his lap.

As my head sank below the table, and my vision of the room disappeared, I thought, "Bill, why don't you rescue me...from myself?"

My mind then shut-down, my resistance failed and I was left only with my desire to taste this stranger's cock. To suck it until my mouth filled with his cum; to be fucked in every possible way. I wanted him to be the possessor and me the possessed. I was lost, and didn't want to be found!

As my mouth approached his cock, a small drop of pre-cum oozed from the head and my tongue reached out to taste it.

Suddenly, Paul's hands fly away from my body as I heard Bill say, "Annie, I'm so sorry I'm late!"

I popped up from leaning over Paul, yanked the zipper of my dress up and looked at Bill. He was standing nonchalantly before the table grinning at me as though his sudden appearance was quite natural.

"What do you want?" exclaimed Paul as he gathered the top of his pants.

"My wife," Bill said in a conversational tone.

"Get the fuck out of here! I don't think she wants to go!" Paul said in a low, menacing and threatening growl.

Bill, who never backed away from a challenge, imperceptibly moved his right hand to his side where I knew his off-duty gun was holstered beneath his jacket. I jumped up, gathered my coat and grasped his right hand to keep it from going any further.

"No, dickhead I won't!" Bill said in his cop, no-nonsense voice. "Besides," he continued, returning to his conversational tone, "I think she'd rather be with me!"

We turned and walked out of the bar.

Bill

We rode home in silence holding hands.

I drew a hot bubble bath for Marcie and joined her in it. She sat, leaning back against me with my legs around her torso, as I rubbed her shoulders with warm sudsy water.

After a while I asked her, "Are you OK?"

"Yes." She whispered.

"Did you like it?"

"No!" She said emphatically.

"Marcie. I'm so sorry. It was all my fault, I shouldn't ..."

Marcie twisted around and put her finger over my lips.

"No Bill," she interrupted. "That's not true. I did like it." There was a long pause. "I liked it too much! I liked the excitement, the thrill and the feeling of another man's attention and desire. I felt like a slut. It was so exciting to have Paul's hands exploring my body, his lips kissing me and his tongue in my mouth. That doesn't mean I loved you less! I promise. I didn't want him to arouse me so much; but, in a way I did. I guess my lust overcame my brain. I liked it too much! Please don't hate me for that, but I did. I just had no control."

"Marcie, I could never hate you! I love you too much."

Marcie was quiet for a long time before she again whispered, "When he pushed my head down, I wanted to suck his cock. I didn't actually do it, but I wanted to. At that moment I wanted him to fuck me over and over again. I had no control. If you hadn't been there, I would have gone with him. I'm so ashamed."

Marcie began to cry softly.

"Marcie, don't be ashamed. It wasn't your fault," I said emphatically. "Remember my parents never stopped loving each other. You were simply responding to the natural, sexual drive of your body. It doesn't threaten our love or our marriage. You didn't do anything wrong. Morality is not that simple. It's not the same for everyone! It's just complicated. We all are".

I kissed the back of her neck and shoulders as I gently began to massage her breasts with warm, slippery, sudsy water and gently squeeze her nipples. She stopped crying and snuggled back against me in the tub.

When we finally climbed into bed, my penis was as erect and hard as it had ever been. Marcie welcomed me into her arms and we made quiet, passionate love.