Temptation's Consequence

"Almost?" Angela said with her jaw agape. "Almost!? How the fuck do you almost have sex!?"

"It was just mostly oral. Fingers. I—"

"And then you came home to me!?"

My brain went totally off-line. I was no better than a vegetable that had no ability to wash itself. I was a vegetable who could only stand and stare at the blonde woman in front of me. She was in wet clothes. Her hair was almost totally wet.

"Yeah. I needed you, Angela."

"I needed you too, Kyle. I've needed you forever. You've been ignoring me, you've shut me out of our bed, you've... and now I know why. I know why now. Now I know why."

"What—" I stopped my question. I didn't think I was worthy of asking questions.

"What? What what, Kyle?"

"What did she do to you?"

Angela sucked her lips in and looked away from me. "She. She and five guys came in and grabbed me and put me in that chair. They gagged me and they... I thought it was a robbery or something. You know? Like drugs?"

"Did they... are you hurt?"

"Only. Only by you."

I frowned at her with raised, pleading eyebrows.

"It's over, isn't it?" I blinked tears over my wet face.

"Is it over between you?"

"It wasn't like that—"

"You said you'deat her shit, Kyle."

I gulped. I wondered how many other details were burned into her mind. Probably every breath and every syllable was recorded through the camera of trauma.

"You want her snorting cocaine off of your cock, isn't that right?"

"Angela... those, it's games, you don't know what it's like."

"What it's like!? Whatis it like!?" She whined at me. "Fucking your only daughter!? Did it even occur to you that's the most disgusting thing a father can do!?"

"She wanted me!"

"And what, you just went with the flow!?"

"Yeah. Mostly."

"You want her more than me?"

"No. No, Angela."

"I wasn't enough?" She popped the buttons open on her wet blouse. Her heaving breasts were behind her soaked white bra. "This doesn't do it for you?"

"Answer my question, Angela. Is it over? Are we done?"

"I'm a dumb bitch cunt, Kyle. I'm just a dumb bitch cunt, right!?" She frowned at me and brought her fists down on my shoulders. Those balled up fingers trembled on either side of my neck. "I mean, right!?"

My hands grabbed her wrists and I held them away from me. "I hated her saying that."

"You just wanted to come then? That's why you didn'tobject!?"

"YES!" I shouted into the shower. "Yes. Exactly. Exact-lee." The last syllable fell into a long whine and I smacked my own head.

Angela grabbed my hand away from me and held it to the water.

"Kyle, I'm not going to stand here and watch a grown man abuse himself."

"I just want to hurt," I blurted. I realized it was true as I said it. "I just want to hurt more then you do."

Angela stared at me with sadness behind her eyes. "I don't think you could, Kyle. Not in this moment. We need to talk."

"Yeah, I just thought if I cleaned first." I questioned my own logic.

"Come into the bedroom."

"Right after I wash."

"No," Angela spat. "Don't wash. Don't youdare."

"I want to be clean for you," I whimpered.

"You'll never be clean enough," Angela cried. "Just come with me now."

The defeat I felt was intense. Every thing beneath my heart surrendered to my wife's truth. There really wasn't going to be anyway to absolve myself of sin and appetite. There was nothing I could do to help my defense.

I had been silly to try.

I followed Angela out of the shower without turning it off.

I followed my wife to our marriage bed still covered in our daughter's sweat. I followed my beholden with the stench of our daughter's ass and pussy all over my entirely limp and withered cock.

"Lay down," Angela commanded.

I did as she said. I laid myself out on our marriage bed. My wet hair touched to a heavy latex pillow and I stared at her.

"How many times here, Kyle? In our bed?"

Before she could finish the question, she was already grabbing at the sheets and pulling them off. Her temper made me feel like a set of dishes on a tablecloth trick.

"Never!" I shouted. "Never here!"

Angela's knuckles were white as she gripped the sheets beneath my weight.

"Our bed wasn't good enough for it?"

"No," I blurted.

"Oh. Did you defend it? Did you tell her that you wouldn't do it here?"

"No," I conceded.

"Ah," Angela sighed. "Just didn't get around to it, then?"

She suddenly started crying and I found myself without the motor to reach out to her. I watched my wife's wrists go to her eyes and she sobbed above me. The sheets beneath me were a tangle.

As my wife sniffed and heaved, I realized that I hated our sheets. They were a strange Egyptian cotton number with a high thread count. They were also green. In that moment, I arrived to the conclusion that green was the ugliest color in the world.

I ripped the sheets from the bed and from beneath myself. I tugged and pulled and gathered all of the fabric and gave it a toss.

"Angela," I spoke honestly. "Angela, please, come onto the bed."

My wife couldn't look at me. She just shook her head as all of the information culminated in her beautiful mind.

"Lay down, honey," I pressed. "Please?"

Angela dropped her wrist and looked at me with red eyes. The amusement on her face as she considered the request would have given Yvette a run for her money. She then shrugged and sat on the bed with her back to me.

"Lay down."

"No," Angela said. Her neck dropped her head again and I could hear her sobs begin all over again.

"Okay," I apologized. I stared at the back of my wife. She was small shouldered. Her white blouse was soaked from the shower. I could see the tones of her flesh through the wet and sticky white cotton.

She sighed and curled up on the bed with her back to me. "You're sick," she said.

I didn't say anything. I just stared at her damp blonde hair.

"She's your daughter. Family vacations. Parent teacher night," she whispered. "All of that shit."

"I know."

"Is it really that good?"

"What? Sex?"

"Yeah," Angela rolled her head to look at me over her shoulder. She was clearly amused. Her expression was a dare. She was also obviously very serious.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I saw it."

"I know, Angela," I interrupted her. "I wish you hadn't. It was over anyway."

"Over? Is that what she meant when she said she'd had it with overweight cocksuckers?"

"Yeah."

"So she ended it."

My breath trembled, "Yeah."

"You never would have ended it."

"Probably not."

"And where do I fit in, then?"

"Anything you want," I said. I meant it too. I didn't care in that moment if these choices made me homeless and begging. I was prepared to wander the streets unloved and totally ruined.

"What did she have that I don't, Kyle? Name calling?" Angela narrowed her eyes and pushed off of the bed. "Is that all? That makes you hot and hard?"

"I don't know, Angela."

"Asshole."

I stared at her and she tried another one.

"Fucker," she glowered down at me.

I shook my head. I could see Angela had locked herself into some sort of competition with our daughter.

"Little bitch," she spat through her teeth.

I sat up. "It wasn't. It wasn't a game for her, Angela."

"Then she actually hated you."

That though had never crossed my mind. Had she started the affair out of hatred for me? Is that how she had perfectly engineered the affair to be at once ravenous ecstasy as well as total misery?

"Well we have that in common now," Angela said and climbed onto the bed. She lowered her nose to my long, naked cock and sniffed it. It was kneaded with sweat, our daughter's juices, and the signature of her ass.

I felt my wife's breath on its helmet. Her tongue slipped out of her mouth and traveled up the full length of the shaft to my hairy pubic bone.

"Angela," I said from a world of confusion.

"Shut the fuck up," Angela said up at me. Her hand raised my limp and heavy offering and she laid it across my belly. With a change in her footing, Angela knelt between my legs on the bare mattress and touched her tongue to my heavy ball sac. Her tongue prodded the loose skin and her lips lowered to embrace a testicle.

This sent tremors through my legs. The combination of sexual attention and discomfort caused me to gasp out.

My wife sucked gently on the testicle through the skin. Her hands rubbed up my thighs and lifted my balls away from her lips. Angela's tongue touched the place between my balls and my anus.

An erection grew above her closed eyes. My hands went down to stroke her blonde hair. She knocked my hands back.

"Don't touch me," she glared.

I rested my hands on either side of my flabby body as my cock continued to fill out. Angela's hands gripped my growing pole and she pointed it toward the ceiling. I watched her raise her head up and her blue eyes locked with mine.

As she peered at me, her wide tongue came out and licked the full length of the shaft. "Oh, Kyle, she tastes very good," her tone was condescending. "So sweet!"

I only swallowed. I was in no position to deny her this game.

"If I had a big dick, I just might have put it in her myself."

She reached up and tore her wet blouse off and threw it aside. I watched her reach behind and unhook her bra. My wife's large breasts fell and I could see that they were still a little damp from the shower water.

She bunched up her skirt and scooted over me.

"I'm only half-serious, my dearest husband," my wife breathed. After she pulled her panties aside, she touched my familiar length to her very wet folds. "You can see how wet I am. How totally drenched. Do you see how wet she made me, Kyle? Do you see the other consequence of me finding out like I did?"

I felt myself slip straight into her.

She leaned forward and bit my lower lip. "What if I want her more than I want you?"

She kissed me and I felt her lips sloppy against mine. I moved to kiss her back and she smacked my cheek. She raised her chin up and looked down at me. She had my daughter's eyes.

Angela lifted her hips. I felt the base of my member slick and exposed to the air. Her breath shook just in front of my nose and her eyes closed as she took me back inside of her. I swallowed and watched her.

"This is how she started, Kyle," my wife hissed. "Do you remember San Diego?" She rolled her head to the side and let her mouth hang open. "Married. Maybe a little bit bored? The doctor had told me to stop taking the pill." Her hands went to my shoulders.

"I didn't want you fucking me without a rubber rain coat, right?" Angela groaned and lifted her hips all the way up again. She raised her chin and closed her eyes. "But you had to do it to me anyway. You weren't happy with just a blowjob." Her eyes screwed shut with one part nostalgia and one part stimulation. She rubbed her hard clit against the helmet of my pusher in circle after circle.

She knew her body and mine so well.

"You weren't even happy waiting for the room," she sighed. "Did you ever fuck her on the beach, Kyle? Like you fucked me?"

"No."

Angela opened her eyes and reached between us. I felt her fingers wrap around my erection. She pulled it away from her pussy and then she smacked her full clit with its head. With a flick of her wrist, she did it again. Angela started slapping her clit with the head of my dork with speed and accuracy.

Her breathing mounted gasp upon gasp as she increased the attention to the little detail. I could hear her wetness with every flick as she worked her wrist to the frequency of a vibrator or other automaton.

The few bursts of pleasure I received were too minute to register.

I watched my wife please herself with the tippy-top of my high-hanging tier.

My wife concentrated on orgasm as if she were the only thing in the room. I watched her skin mount little beads of sweat. I saw her pull her bottom lip in with her teeth. She opened her eyes to slits and looked at me while she did it. Her voice tainted her breath as her climax mounted.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, I don't care. I don't care!" Her breath shook out of her voice when she discharged all over her hand and my cock. The skin on her cheeks flushed with the exasperation and the satisfaction of the release I didn't help her earn.

Angela fell to her side of the bed and her blonde hair crashed against the mattress. I reached between her legs and rested two fingers on her clit. I just held it and her breathing stayed elevated. With my motionless fingers, I helped her continue to ride the wave of orgasm.

Her eyes closed and she whispered words at me sleepily.

"I never cheated on you, Kyle," and a resigned sigh shot out of her nose.

I removed my hand from her clit and blinked my own eyes closed. Her scent was sexual perspiration and that perfumed deodorant she always wore. My arm slipped beneath my wife and I forced her body onto its side. I settled myself behind her and placed my nose in her blonde hair.

I spooned my wife Angela Jean Baron and allowed myself to pretend that everything was fine. I rubbed her belly while she slept went running with the belief that I had never cheated on her. That I had only ever had eyes for her and that it would only ever, always be that way. A sleepy notion of normalcy took me to a place that only existed in my imagination,

In that place, the fantasy was to be truthful, loving, and a good man. I knew I wasn't that man, but it felt so good to fantasize that I was. All judgements inside and outside of this bedroom were to be damned, because I let myself feel that way for as long as I could.

Me, my wife, and my daughter down the hall. We were a real family in the eye of my temporarily blinded heart and I let myself believe it for a little while.

There was the sound of dishes being broken. One after another. After another.

My eyes opened. It was dark in the bedroom.

The sound came from the kitchen. Angela was still asleep next to me.

Yvette.

Had come home.

Angela snored the relaxed sleep that comes only after emotional exhaustion. I stood from the bed and grabbed my pants from the floor. There was the sound of pots and pans being bounced on the tile floor below.

What did she think she was doing?

Hadn't she already gotten her revenge?

I slipped a shirt on and tip-toed out of the room to Yvette's door. I peeked in and could see the room was still trashed from my tantrum. I wondered if my daughter was committing a little payback.

I was as quiet as I could manage as I came down the stairs. The living room was intact. The front door was closed.

I came to the kitchen and saw the mess Yvette made. She had shattered every drinking glass. Smashed every plate. Spilled reams of paper. Broken bottles of condiments --everything from ketchup to Tabasco sauce. There were torn books strewn about the floor. Cans of food had been opened and dumped onto the tile.

My daughter sat Yoga-style on the kitchen island with a cigarette burning in her hand. Her make-up had a professional touch to it. There was intensity to her bronze skin --as if she had been dipped in mild glitter. Her make-up colors reminded me of a model magazine. Her black hair had been teased and styled to accompany the perfect face.

She wore a simple black tank-top and her black suit pants.

"Hey, dad," her voice toned like a teacher doing role call.

"Yvette, I think I've been punished enough."

She blinked at me and smiled as if I had made a polite joke.

"Angela. She saw us. Like you wanted."

"Did she leave you?" Yvette asked and blew smoke from her nose.

"No. I don't know."

"You fucked her, didn't you?"

"No, baby, she fucked me."

I looked down at the broken glass and my bare feet.

"If you want to come in, you might want to get some shoes."

"You can pack up and get out," I heard Angela say from behind me. I turned to see she had a robe on. She had said her words at Yvette. "You destroy this house on a regular basis, you almost destroyed our marriage, and I hate you."

Yvette brought her cigarette to her lips and she weighed Angela's request..

"Not bad, mom," she said finally. "I'll do it. I'll go if that's what both of you want. A girl can take a hint, but what do you mean by 'almost destroyed your marriage?'"

Yvette hopped off of the island and tossed her cigarette to the trashed kitchen floor.

"I'm going to forgive your father," Angela said.

"Awesome," Yvette smiled and kicked aside debris as she approached the entry to the kitchen. "Good for you. I guess chivalry isn't dead. I know if I'd seen my man putting it to another bitch, there is no end to lengths I might go. Maybe I'm just not as good a person as you, mommy."

"Yvette," I interjected.

"I'm not finished with you yet!" Yvette barked at me, her eyes burned with hate. She then looked back at Angela. "See, I don't think this marriage is almost destroyed. I think it's unsalvageable."

With those words, Yvette grabbed my hand and forced it down the front of her pants. My fingers slipped deep behind her zipper and her panties. Her public bone was the smoothest I'd ever felt it. My daughter had been out getting every part of her groomed. "Because I broke him. He'll never think of your old pussy again."

I struggled to pull my hand out of her grip. "Let go of me, Yvette."

"Jesus Christ, you're full of yourself," Angela growled at her and approached the two of us.

"Wanna watch him go down on me?" Yvette giggled and tightened her hands on my wrist to keep me there. I felt her wet pussy smear my non-compliant hand as I pulled upward. "Even now he wants to!"

"I will never go down on you again!" I shouted at her. "I fucking hate you! You're mother's right, get the fuck out of here!"

Yvette let go of my wrist. I wanted to slap her. I restrained myself. It didn't really matter though because she didn't flinch.

With a smirk. Yvette looked back at Angela. "Truth or dare?"

"I'm not playing games with you!" Angela yelled.

"Don't say truth, mommy," she smiled and rubbed her lips with her cheek. "Cause you know what I'll ask."

Angela glared at Yvette.

"Just take the dare and I'll let you have Kyle back."

"She's already got me back, Yvette, we're not doing this."

"Come on, mom," Yvette's tone was dipped in an unapologetic hatred. "Dare."

"What the hell is going on here?" I asked and looked between them.

"Of course, if you choose dare," Yvette said lightly and unsnapped her slacks. "There are consequences. I'll start by having your husband put his tongue in my ass. He likes that, but you already know. Your husband, the man whose sperm you carried to term, will then suck on my tits and muse loudly about how much he wants me to give him milk. We'll fuck and share a cigarette. Or don't you think so?"

Yvette's pants dropped to the floor.

I didn't want to look down at her panties. I wanted to ignore the waxed legs and the perfect, hairless pussy. I didn't want to know the color of her panties. If I could have one victory over lust, it would be to not look at her panties.

I listened to what my daughter threatened Angela with. She was going to use me for a sex act unless Angela admitted a truth. I had no idea what secret Angela had that Yvette knew about. Then I remembered that Yvette knew about Anne Marie and me.

But Angela had told me she'd never cheated on me.

"What is she talking about, honey?" I said at my wife. Tears welled up in Angela's eyes as she stared at Yvette.

"Come on, mommy," my daughter sighed. "How much do you have to think about it? If it helps.It is all about you."

Angela's lips trembled and I stared at her.

"Will you look at that, daddy?" Yvette said with amusement. "You can almost see her putting it together in that stupid brain. Imagining how long I've been working on this. Wondering how I got you to do me. Wondering how close I was to just snatching you out of her life altogether."