The Sacrifice Pt. 03

I could sense the anger surging through her but somehow, she managed to maintain control and in a forced voice she replied, "I don't think that either fair or accurate."

"Look..." I started but she cut me off.

"It was always all about your lust for her...DeAnne. I did what you wanted. You met with him and set it up," she declared, once again attempting to position her involvement as passive.

"No, Chris. You didn't make a sacrifice. Falcon put a bug in your head at the campground. You admitted you wanted him and you also put on a show for Vince in the shower," I said.

"Those...it was just thoughts...fantasies. You made it real," she countered.

I had to accept she had a point but it didn't stop my next verbal launch, "Everything I saw...the sex with Falcon...the time at Mad Dog's...you were loving every second."

"So were you!" she exclaimed and then quickly added, "You have feelings for her. It's easy to see."

"Did you tell him...Vince...you loved him?" I pushed, guessing at the truth.

At first, she didn't respond but finally, she admitted, "It was just sex talk."

For the next ten minutes, we lay in silence. My mind was filled with thoughts and fears and I felt certain Chris was in a similar place. Slowly, the fog of emotion lifted, and with the emerging clarity, I realized we were at a crossroads. One path took us towards redemption while the other led towards an ever-widening chasm that would soon be too broad to cross.

"How do we get past this?" I whispered.

It took a few seconds but she finally replied, "Do you still love me?"

"Yes...I do," I answered.

Instantly, she turned to face me and scooted closer until I felt her warm body pressed into mine. We stared into each other's eyes and then shared a soft, lingering kiss. When it ended, Chris's hand began to pull on my shoulder which told me she wanted me on top of her. I followed her direction and with only a little fumbling we connected. I moved a half-dozen times to spread her lubrication and then stopped and stared into her face.

"I want...I need to know who you were with," I whispered.

A sad look appeared on her face, but she answered, "Falcon, Vince, and Clarence...and Kelso."

"Who is Kelso?" I asked.

"A guy...he was at the trailer last night," she explained and before I could respond, she asked, "Where did you leave it with DeAnne?"

"DeAnne's going to have Falcon's baby. There is no more DeAnne," I replied.

My message made her go quiet but slowly a strange look appeared on her face and she said, "You wanted it to be yours."

"No..." I replied but she interrupted.

"Did you talk about it?" she pushed.

Now, it was my turn to become quiet but finally, I responded, "It was just sex talk."

I could tell my admission hurt her and once again the room went quiet. However, her hands moved to my hips and she gently prodded me so I began a very slow movement. At first, my attention was all on her lovely face but before long flashes of her with her biker lovers began to fill my brain. In all the scenarios, the thing that drew me in was the sexual abandon she showed. If my count was correct, she had experienced seven club members of all sizes and shapes and the only negative reaction I saw was her rejection of the blowjob with Clarence.

Despite the emotional turmoil, something in my psyche told me I needed to ejaculate into my wife. Without even realizing it, I started moving faster, finally recognizing my state when my breathing became labored. I knew Chris was far from an orgasm so when the time came, I let go and pumped a healthy amount into my wife's pussy. It made me recall her abandoned birth control pills but I decided we could have that discussion later. I finally rolled to her side and she immediately looped a leg across my thighs and arm over my chest.

"DeAnne dumped you for Falcon and Vince dumped me for his girlfriend. I guess the biker crowd doesn't want us," she whispered.

It was an odd statement and one that confused me, but deciding enough had occurred for one day, I let it drop and soon we drifted to sleep.

The following morning, we managed to wake at the needed time, and later, during a lull in my schedule, I checked my phone and saw I had a text from DeAnne. It was a simple message thanking me for the weekend and I acknowledged it with a quick reply adding that I thought our time together was more enjoyable than what Chris experienced with Clarence. I didn't expect a response and was just about to leave for the day when a ping announced an incoming message. Checking my phone, I could see it was from DeAnne and included a video. With equal parts curiosity and trepidation, I opened the file and a scene of my naked wife bent over a worn couch with Clarence fucking her hard from behind filled the screen. I fumbled with the device to turn the sound down as Chris's cries of excitement filled my office.

"Fuck me...fuck me hard...do it, baby..." she demanded loudly.

"Damn this bitch can't get enough," the biker replied as he looked towards whoever was filming.

"Tear it up," a man's voice responded.

"She pulling my balls inside out," her lover grunted, and then laughed, "Another club slut. We needed a new hole."

The video soon ended and I knew it was DeAnne's way of showing that my wife was truly a dirty girl. She had delivered the same message more than once when I showed concern for Chris or tried to defend her virtue. As I sat at my desk looking out at the city below me while contemplating the latest piece of info, I realized that despite her claim of wanting it over, a little push would likely lead to more.

It took some time but I finally managed to move past her affair with Vince. I rationalized that it was part of a bigger situation with my fingerprints everywhere so I couldn't be too judgmental. We talked about getting the tattoos removed but never took the step and when several months elapsed and it appeared they were staying, I told her I needed to mark her, too. Unable to think of a good ink design, I finally landed on a piercing and Chris became the receiver of a clit ring. Although reluctant at first, she now enjoys the sensation only occasionally complaining about how wet it keeps her.

Also, the piercing seemed to mark our transition from guilt to acceptance. After she healed, often during intense lovemaking sessions, we would revisit the biker encounters. Unsurprisingly, most of the discussion was about her and the men, although occasionally she would ask about me and DeAnne. When she determined I wouldn't use the information against her, she became even more forthcoming and soon I had learned about her experience with each of the men, including her surreptitious encounters with Vince. The openness created a change in our lovemaking which has become more aggressive. Of course, we still connect as loving husband and wife but many times we will enjoy a deeply erotic encounter using recollections of the biker meetings as a launch point. On more than one occasion, I've been on the brink of suggesting we call Falcon but each time I've backed away partly due to my desire to stay in the dark about DeAnne's condition.

"What do you want for Christmas?" my wife asked the week before Thanksgiving.

Fighting back a smirk while dying to see her reaction, I replied, "I was thinking maybe we get a husband and wife gift."

"Like what?" she pushed now sensing something was up.

"A motorcycle," I answered.

A shocked expression came to her face that was quickly replaced by an impish grin, and she responded eagerly, "Should we?"