Oxygen Games Ch. 13

[Recap: While trying to get his wife pregnant, Aidan has come up with a game to spice up their love life. It appears to be harmless enough, so Rosa reluctantly agrees. The games are over now and Rosa won the final bet: a hall pass. She took it, having sex with a stranger across town, but hating herself for what he made her do. Aidan has to make a choice: can their marriage still be saved?]

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HYPOXIC

Rosa wakes with a start, alone in the bed. She rolls over and finds she's still in her underwear, her summer dress discarded in a little heap on the floor. Her panties are stained from yesterday, her bra scratchy with the dried sweat of passion. She stretches out tentatively, feeling her body ache, and the memory of Haro's bedroom and the things he made her do washes over her. She needs desperately to find out where Aidan is.

Rosa swings her legs over the side of the bed and feels the soreness between her legs from where she'd let a stranger extract orgasm after orgasm as he'd fucked her. She huddles on the side of the bed, head in hands, trying to will herself upright. She needs to talk to her husband. With an almighty effort, she pulls her body upright and begins to put one foot in front of the other, her body protesting, as she creeps out of the bedroom.

Aidan is in the kitchen, already dressed for the day, leaning against the countertop with a bowl of muesli in his hands. Rosa had heard the clink of the metal spoon on ceramic from the bed, shuffling towards the sound. As she gets to the doorway, Aidan looks up.

"Looks like Davey rode you pretty hard," he says, taking another spoonful and chewing it carefully.

"Uh. Davey?"

"Sure. You were a cheating slut with him, right? I saw you talking at the bar."

Aidan's tone is measured, even conversational, in stark contrast with the words he's using. Rosa struggles to deal with what he's said to her.

"Babe...."

"Don't. Don't say babe."

"Uh. Aidan," she mumbles, "It wasn't Davey. It was a guy who works in the coffee shop across town. I wouldn't have done that to you, with your friend."

"So, that's a positive then. You fucked a stranger."

He stops eating and he's now looking at her intently. He's waiting for her to say the words, to admit.

"Yes," she gasps, head dropping, folding in on herself, "I fucked a stranger."

There is silence, punctuated by the sound of his bowl being placed on the countertop. She can't look up.

"Say something," Rosa whispers.

She hears him move and cringes inside, seized by an irrational fear that he's going to shout at her, or even hit her. Instead, she feels a tiny kiss on her cheek and hears the jingle of car keys.

"I'm going out, I'll take the car. Have a good day at work."

Seconds later she hears the front door open, and then close. Rosa is left standing in the kitchen in just her soiled underwear, empty. It's a long time before she finds the will to move, to run herself a shower, eat, get dressed, order herself a cab to get to the gym and somehow start her day.

---

Aidan just drives. It's his day off and he has a ton of things to get done, but it's all on hold. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her standing in the kitchen in only her bra and panties, the white lace showing off the perfect curves of his wife's sculpted body. It makes him ache. So fuckable, he thinks to himself, then with bitter irony he acknowledges the truth: so fuckable by anyone.

He could see her remorse, the hurt on her face, but it was nowhere near enough. She'd won the hall pass, finishing the games with a devastating climax, but he still can't bring himself to terms with the fact that she actually used it, that winning was so important to her. A car honks behind him and Aidan realises that he's stopped at the lights, but they're now green. He pulls over to the side of the road and turns the engine off, his head slumping against the steering wheel. Fuck it.

Aidan reaches for his phone and dials a number. He waits, feeling the nerves building, and then the call clicks into life.

"Hello?" says a woman's voice.

"Hi, it's Aidan."

"I know, I have caller ID."

"Look, I don't know if you're busy today."

He hears a muffled sound and voices calling out, and then she's back. "I'm about to do the school run but after that I'm free. What's up?"

"What we talked about. Can I talk to you? I need... I just need...."

"Not a problem. Where shall I meet you?"

"I'll pick you up if that's okay."

"Sounds good, see you soon."

Aidan lets out a long breath. "Thanks Cass," he says.

---

Cassidy is waiting outside the front of her house when he drives up. She's wearing a long-sleeved top and a pair of dark leggings, her blonde hair tied back from her face in a loose ponytail. She sees him and waves, crossing the street to get into the passenger side. Aidan pulls away and they're in motion.

"What's up?"

Aidan's gripping the steering wheel a little too hard.

"Aidan, hey, just take a breath. Whatever you tell me, it's okay."

He looks across at the woman in the passenger seat. Cass is concerned, her pretty face frowning. He can see the way that her top falls loosely over the curves of her breasts, shielding her toned body from his view, but he knows what's beneath because they'd honed her body together, sculpted her over months of training at the gym.

"You look good," he says.

"Testament to your skill," Cass replies breezily, trying to keep the conversation light until Aidan reveals his burden to her.

Aidan smiles, reassured by the familiar exchange between them.

"How're the kids?"

"Good. Took a while to get ready this morning. It's Russian roulette when you open that bedroom door first thing."

He looks across at her again, sees her smiling. She holds out a hand. "Tell me," she says.

Aidan hesitates a moment, then places his hand in hers. She interlaces her fingers between his and holds his hand in her lap. Aidan is acutely aware of the back of his hand resting on the top of her shapely thigh. She gives his hand a little squeeze.

"Where are we going?"

Aidan doesn't answer immediately. "Figuratively or literally?"

"Let's do both. Literally, first."

"I don't know. Just rolling forward."

"Okay. Figuratively?"

"Same."

He can feel the warmth of her skin through her leggings. Somewhere in the turmoil, he feels reassured by her body close to his. He begins to piece it together, tells her about the bet, how he lost, what she did. Cass listens in silence all the way through, letting him get it out as they roll out of the city and up into the hills. It feels like he's talking forever, but then they come up to a look-out spot and Aidan decides to pull in. He parks the car facing out at the view of the city and switches the engine off. In the distance, the high-rises fade into grey as a wall of rain moves across the landscape. They are the only ones here.

"Before the bet," Cass says, "If I asked you if you love your wife, what would you have said?"

"Yes. I would have said yes."

"And now, after she's done what she's done?"

Aidan's head sinks. He's told her everything and now Cass is using her training as a psychologist to pick through the wreckage. He knows it's what he needs, but he doesn't want to relive it.

"I dunno, Cass. I'm just.... Fuck, it's just so hard. I can't decide."

"Do you think she loves you?"

"I thought so. I think so. But that's what I can't understand. If she does then why did she do it?"

Her hand is on his arm, soft and delicate. He feels the reassuring warmth of her touch.

"Have you talked to her about it?"

Aidan grimaces. "I can't, Cass. I just can't. All I can think about is her being fucked by someone else. It makes me so angry. Bitter."

Aidan lays his hand on hers and she gives a gentle squeeze. His emotions are churning inside and he knows she can see his conflict. Her face is close to his, her eyes wide and honest. Her skin feels so soft. He can smell the scent of her skin.

Aidan kisses her.

Cass doesn't pull back. Instead, he feels her grip tighten on his arm as he explores her delicate lips with his. Her free hand wraps around the back of his neck and she pulls him closer, giving him permission. Aidan feels himself react, his manhood firming as the beautiful, married woman in the passenger seat opens her mouth to admit his tongue. Aidan knows what he's doing is wrong, but he hadn't expected to kiss her, or for Cass to react like that in response. He feels himself fraying at the edges as he feels the soft pressure of another woman's lips against his.

They don't speak. Aidan's hand reaches out, cupping Cass's breast, feeling the weight of it through her top. Cass responds, slipping her hand off his arm and down between his thighs. He feels her thumb brushing against the swelling bulge between his legs.

In answer, Aidan's hands bunch in the fabric of her top. Cass understands and leans forward, letting him pull it over her head. She's undressing herself now, popping open her bra clasp and freeing herself.

Aidan stares at her, topless, as her earnest face watches him in return. He stoops to her breast, drawing a nipple into his mouth, sucking. Cass sighs, a low stuttering breath through clenched teeth.

"You've no idea how long it's been since someone paid me any attention," she breathes.

She raises her hips, peeling off her leggings and underwear all in one motion. She has a trim little patch of dark hair between her toned thighs. Aidan's hand explores her body, tracing over the flat stomach and taut legs that he's been watching and moulding as he put her through her paces on the strength machines, helping her transform her curvy housewife physique into a rippling hard body.

Cass is in motion, slipping between the seats into the back. Aidan has a view of her perfect, naked bottom as she wriggles through. He can see her pussy lips, gleaming with moisture already. His pulse surges, watching the body he'd helped to shape unfold herself on the back seat, sees the eagerness in Cass's face. He still can't believe that he'd kissed her, much less that she would strip herself for him. His cock is solid in his jeans, aching for release, needing to enter her after weeks of Rosa's denial.

A spike of guilt: the memory of Rosa's face in this same car on the way to the spa, smiling at him like the sun coming out, her dark hair curling around her face in the breeze from the open window. The limitless possibilities. The endlessness of the future. The thing they lost.

Aidan chokes the memory down and pulls himself between the seats into the back. Cass has shuffled up to make room, propped up against a door, her legs spread wide for him. He unfastens his jeans and strips off, seeing how her eyes follow every movement as she savours the revelation of his body. He tugs off his underwear and leans forwards, planting kisses on her toned stomach, feeling her muscles ripple beneath the touch of his lips. Her hands are in his hair now, tracing around the back of his neck, stroking behind his ears. He can see how ready she is for him and he moves closer, kissing up between her breasts until he reaches her chin, her lips.

Her eyes are staring into his, fathomless. Aidan is intensely aware of the position of his cock, hovering just above her waiting entrance, already wet for him. A single motion, a fleeting moment, and then he'll be inside this gorgeous, willing woman. Her tongue slips into his mouth, encouraging him, showing him how much she needs him to penetrate her.

Aidan squares his hips, holding himself taut above her. Rosa must have done this. She must have come to this moment, spread wide on some stranger's bed. She would have looked into his eyes just like this and in that instant, she had changed everything. Aidan hesitates. His tip is close enough to feel the heat of her skin. The point of no return.

He breaks off the kiss, sitting back on his haunches, his body trembling, watching the realisation dawn on Cass's face.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I want to, believe me, I really do, but I can't. I can't be that guy."

He feels himself softening, as he waits for Cass to respond, bracing himself for her words. Instead, she surprises him, rolling forward to hug him to her. He feels her breasts pressed tightly against his chest as she holds him, letting time pass.

"I know," she breathes, holding her bare skin against his and whispering close into his ear.

He wraps his arms around her, cradling her naked body. Eventually she pulls back, and he can see in her face that she's forming the words she needs to say very carefully.

"I understand, I really do. I can see you still love her Aidan. It's up to you where you go from here," she murmurs, "But, you need time to work out what's really happening with her, not what you're feeling right now straight after being hurt."

Cass draws a deep breath and he can see the hurt in her now, but not because of him. It's from the rest of her life: deeper, more profound, vast.

"Believe me," she tells him, "Sometimes the real things are not the same as what we tell ourselves in the dark."

---

Rosa dismounts the spin cycle warily, braced for the protests from her body. The class is breaking up, but in the front row her two spin stars are comparing notes.

"Whatcha get?" says the petite woman, the one who looks a lot like Rosa.

"Oh Anya, why not come and see?" the older woman says, gesturing to her control panel.

She's in her forties, tall, angular with sliver threading its way through her long, natural blonde hair. They cluster around the little screen. Anya's face creases.

"What's up?" Rosa asks, pushing her soreness from her mind.

"Morgan beat me by a hundred metres," the shorter woman replies.

"You beat me last week," Morgan says.

"For once."

"You'll get better. My advantage isn't going to last forever."

"The fact that you're a professional athlete, and I have a toddler bod you mean?"

"Ex-professional. The Olympics were a long time ago. I didn't even get a medal."

"Which Olympics was that again?"

"Oh, honey, probably the one before you were born."

Anya laughs at this. "Next time," she says as she heads towards the change rooms.

"It's nice the way you do that," Rosa says to the taller woman.

"What?"

"I looked up your race times. You were phenomenal. Less than a quarter second off the podium. Some people might make a big thing of that."

"Ah, Rosa," Morgan says, "One thing I learned. Gracious in defeat, magnanimous in victory."

Morgan smiles and follows Anya to get changed, leaving Rosa alone among the spin cycles with Morgan's words echoing in her head.

The day moves slowly after that and she's grinding through the hours until closing. She checks her phone, but Aidan hasn't replied to her messages. She's tempted to call him but hesitates. She doesn't want to do this over the phone. She wants to show him how sorry she is in person.

That's the thing. She's not ashamed, this wasn't anything done behind his back, but she's sorry for going through with it. Aidan's face in the kitchen showed how much he was trying to keep it in, but the hurt was there, etched in his face. They needed a reset, to go again from the start, use the games to draw a line. The more she mulls it over in her head, the better she begins to feel. Babies, bets, injections, all of it was noise. She loves him and she knows he loves her.

At closing time, she bolts the door and goes to her locker. She unlocks it and pulls out the parcel that's been sitting there all week. Ripping it open, she extracts the garment inside and lets it unfold to the floor. Rosa runs it through her fingers: sleek, seamless black latex.

She'd researched the bodysuit when Aidan had revealed his side of the bet and had spent most of her lunchbreak travelling to and from a little shop halfway across the city to pick it up. It fitted perfectly into her plan to demonstrate to Aidan that she was willing to give him what he wanted even though he'd lost. It was her way of balancing it all up, making his latex doll fantasy come true of her own free will rather than having it forced on her by a bet. It would show him how much she loved him and everything she was willing to do for him. It all made sense.

Rosa strips off her exercise wear and pulls out a small bottle, squeezing some of the liquid into her palm and rubbing her hand over her naked body until she glistens. She turns, inspecting herself in the mirror, before picking up the bodysuit. She'd selected one that was neck-entry because she didn't want the look of the smooth, black surface to be interrupted by a zip down the back. When she was wearing it for him, she wanted it to look like she had flawless latex skin.

Gradually, she works her way into it, threading her legs through the neck opening, stretching it wide. The bodysuit had socks and gloves built in and a discreet zip in the crotch; she wants the experience to be perfect for her husband.

Her toes slide down into the socks and she begins to pull the glossy material up her legs, inching the black latex carefully over her skin to avoid wrinkles. She pulls it up as far as her crotch and then stops, tracing her fingers over the zip. Taking a deep breath, Rosa pulls the suit up over her bottom, settling her buttocks into the tight, glossy confines of the latex, and wriggles her hips.

Rosa takes a few steps, walking around in a circle, getting used to the way her lower body feels now it's compressed by the suit, sensing the latex snug against her waxed crotch. She explores the space between her legs, the familiar contours of her labia and hood transformed now into a featureless expanse of shiny latex. She's tempted to draw down the zip and touch herself, but she resists.

Rosa begins to tug the rest of the bodysuit up her torso, pausing to slide one arm and then the other into place. She flexes her fingers, making a fist, watching the smooth black digits curl and uncurl in front of her face. Rosa pulls the suit up higher, easing her small, pert breasts into place. The latex cups built into the suit are padded, building up her cleavage into large, firm, mounds. She runs her fingers over the sleek black hemispheres, watching as twin points appear in the shiny latex as her nipples react to the sensation of being gripped and compressed by the plastic.

There's only a little bit to go now, tugging the neck up, unrolling it until the collar of the suit sits just under her chin and she feels a spike of excitement as the collar fits into place. She smooths her hands over her shiny, featureless black body, feeling the way it holds her in place, completely enveloped and shaped by the tightness of the slick material. The adrenaline surge fades, but she is surprised by what else she feels. Between her legs she's now slick with her own moisture.

Finally, Rosa turns back to the mirror. She's so used to seeing the reflection of her body, picking out the curves and the little birthmarks that identify her, the shade of her hair, the colour of her eyes. Now, revealed in the frame is a glossy latex doll, shiny black curves under the harsh lights of the gym. The only distinguishing feature of her body is the line of the zipper disappearing between her thighs, begging to be undone. The doll's hand moves, exploring its surface, passing over the prominent domes of its breasts, down over the stomach until its finger reach that enticing aperture. She strokes herself, feeling the latex pressing tight against her labia.

Rosa shudders with illicit delight and withdraws, admiring her work. She's chosen to become his doll on her own terms to demonstrate how much she cares. Morgan was right: magnanimous in victory. She's sure that Aidan will be blown away when he sees her. He'll understand what she was thinking; this was going to be the way she was going to make him see. Her heart lifts: it's a good plan. Everything was going to work out.