This Is What I Want. Right?

He pulled his cock out of her dirty hole that gaped a little before it managed to close itself, and a thin line of cum stretched from his dickhead to her ass. It was soon capped as he sat back in the bed to watch the show.

"Give it to her, Pat!" he encouraged his friend, and got an aroused grunt back.

They kept going for a few minutes, then suddenly Pat exclaimed: "Ew! Your jizz is dripping down on me!"

And it was. Her asshole apparently couldn't hold the stream of greyish cum inside, and it had dribbled down upon his thigh.

"Then turn her over!" Mark laughed and Pat did, pushing her down on her back. He evidently wasn't so troubled by the feel of another man's cum that he wanted to stop and get it wiped off - rather he kept fucking my wife who seemed... well, fucked. But also tired.

Nevertheless, she kept fucking her newest lover. Mark bowed down and kissed and licked her ear a little and she shrugged, not really liking it it seemed.

The fucking went on. Maybe Mark had expanded her too much with his thick cock - maybe Pat's thin tool couldn't get much friction going after that. I smiled at that thought. At least I could feel her after Mark had been there.

"Oooh, yes, Pat... are you gonna cum?" my wife sighed in a sexy, suggestive way. Maybe she had seen something I hadn't? Or was just hoping?

"Fuck yeah!" he grunted in reply, "gonna cum in your married pussy!"

"Yeah? You're gonna give me your baby-juice?" she wondered.

"Hell yes!" he merely grunted, "fucking fill you up!"

"Yeah, yeah do that!" she gasped, her voice still holding that provocative quality, "yes, knock me up! Please, Patrick!"

What?

No, really, what?! My world stood still. What had she just said? She couldn't have said what I thought she said.

"Fuck yeah!" the pathetic stranger fucking my wife exclaimed, "fucking yeah! Gonna knock, ugh! you fucking up... yeah!" His movement became hectic, irregular... intense.

"Yes! Yes, gimme your baby! Oh please, give it to me! Put your baby in my married pussy..." she begged, and the bat I had been clenching slipped from my powerless fingers, as my entire body lost... everything. Why was she saying that? What was going on?

On the bed Patrick was hammering into her, making her quiver beneath him, her tits shaking... her tits that would swell with milk for another man's baby. No...

"You're gonna take my bastard! Ngh! Take it! Make your hubby... raise it!" he grunted, quickly losing control in there.

"Yes, he'll never know! Oh, yes, give me one more child! Please!" she pleaded, and my legs collapsed under me and I ended up on my ass. Was this because I didn't want more kids? I knew she wanted at least one more, and we'd have lots of talks about that (that had often degenerated into actual fights) but we'd agreed that two were enough. Hadn't we? Had she found another way? Oh God, what had I done?

"Take it! Take my bastard!" the rotten prick on top of her hissed and grunted one last time in time with Katie's delighted "yeeeeesss!"

It was too late now. I couldn't stop it, even if I had been able to muster the will to do so. Millions of little egg-seeking sperms were heading up into Katie. Had she stopped taking her pill? She must have. Oh God.

The three of them stayed in bed, laying and talking a little but I had no more energy. No more interest. I closed the door, not even caring if they heard or not and crawled up in Mary's bed. Mary. Elisabeth. Would they get a half-brother or -sister now?

I laid in that bed, trying to figure out Katie's motivation, and stayed there, even when the sound of our mattress squeaking and Katie's moans, and the guys' grunts told me another round had started. I stayed through Katie's cries of agonising pleasure and the shouts and cheers of the idiotic boys she'd invited into our home.

Anger. Resentment. Betrayal. Bile. Was she begging Mark to knock her up now?

I tried to rationalise it. Maybe it was just sex-talk?

Well, if it was sex-talk, it was something that would turn her on. Why would the thought of getting that loser's baby turn her on?

This had all gone wrong. It was supposed to be some fun but instead she had invited that loser into our home, into her pussy, into her fucking womb! She had laughed at me and told them that her ass was off-limits to me. She had begged a low-life stranger to impregnate her!

"Fuck..." I muttered. This was worse than when she snuck out to meet Mark. This was... was her telling me I wasn't her man. She didn't want me. She wanted someone else to father her child.

Oh, sure, I would be good enough to raise it. Sure. But not to sire it.

All my clever little schemes; my planning, cloning her phone to stay informed, manipulating her into holding her rendezvous here so I could watch and be 'involved'... what a joke. Nothing had helped, it had all spun out of control, and I was powerless.

I heard her cry out again, the little whore, followed by Pat's passionate shout. Oh good. Another load of baby-juice for Katie's fertile womb. Nice.

Mark took a long while and my wife came at least twice more before his grunts of pleasure sounded down the hall. Then blessed silence.

Then, after a while, voices. Right outside my door.

"Until next time!" Patrick grinned in his sleazy voice. I cast a look at the bat - it wasn't too late to remove his teeth...

Mark grunted something.

"Make sure to stay still and calm," the oily voice came again, "to take care of my kid!" And then a disgusting, little giggle.

"Come on," Mark told him and they left. About at the same time, I heard a car pull up at the curb, and when I went to the window I saw a cab. Soon after the two Katie-fuckers stepped out of my house, relaxed and pleased as punch, joking and having a good time and got into the cab. Then it drove off, and Katie and I were finally alone in the house. Now what?

We needed to talk.

I got out from Mary's room and stepped into our bedroom, the stench of sweat and sex hitting my nostrils. I looked at the bed, and there was my wife, completely naked. She was on her side, her pale ass with a pink shape on each cheek towards me. Her breasts were covered in bite-marks, her hair was a wild mane, her make-up had run and her pussy and ass wouldn't shut all the way, and out of both orifice lines of cum were dripping. But her eyes were closed, and she was snoring slightly... and she had the most peaceful, serene expression. Maybe because she was dead-exhausted.

She had been well-fucked, and I found myself becoming a little aroused. More than a little maybe... and I found myself growing angry, at myself for feeling that way, at Katie for letting this spin out of control, at Mark for letting that loser tag along.

I don't know how long I stood there, looking at her. Anger and resentment battled lust and love, and in the end, there was no winner. I took her quilt and put it over her and left. I knew what I had to do.

--

The next morning Katie stumbled down the stairs at around half past ten. She looked disheveled and groggy and made her way to the kitchen, where I was sitting at the table, waiting for her. I'd slept in Mary's bed but gotten up several hours ago. She entered the kitchen and noticed me.

"Tom?" she gasped in surprise. Then she looked at my face, that showed no emotions and at the glass of water and the packet from the pharmacy that stood in front of me. Plan B it said in big, obvious letters. Her face tightened and she swallowed noticeably and she sat down heavy in the chair across the table from me.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"I was there, Katie," I said in a low, controlled voice, and she shut her eyes in defeat, "of course I was there. I couldn't risk anything happening to you." Well, that was only part of the reason but the least creepy and selfish one, so that's the one we were going with.

"And you wanted to watch," she commented. I merely shrugged, not willing to get baited into anything.

"Look, if you heard," she nodded towards the packet, "it was... nothing. I... I don't want..."

"Another kid?" I finished for her, doubt seeping into my voice.

"Okay, yeah, but not... that guy's! I want your kid, your child!" she argued. I didn't go into the argument - I had promised myself I would stay calm. Instead, I pushed the Plan B-box closer to her.

"Take the pill, Katie," I merely stated.

"Why are you being like this?" she asked, a hurt note in her voice, "I only did what you asked!"

"I didn't ask you to fuck some lowlife loser, I didn't ask you to stop taking your pills, I didn't ask you to beg him to knock you up!" I told her in an angry voice before taking a deep breath and adding: "Take the pill."

"I did not stop taking my pills, Tom! I don't need this," she picked up the packet and threw it towards me - it landed next to my coffee-mug, "because I'm already on the pill, and I haven't missed a single day in two years! If you don't believe me, you can check my pill-dispenser."

"I already have," I told her, having found my calm again, "I know no-one is missing. But that doesn't mean you have taken them..."

Her eyes were narrowing, and she was growing cross.

"So I've thrown them out then?" she said, voice rising, "I'm so desperate for a child that I've stopped taking my pills and then waited for Patrick and Mark to give it to me?"

I shrugged.

"I don't want that guy's child, you idiot! I wanted yours! And I've taken every single pill I need - I AM protected! And even if I wasn't, why the hell would I need Patrick or Mark? I could just as easily get your baby after I'd gotten rid of my pills, couldn't I?"

That... that actually made sense. Why hadn't I thought of that? Were my own fears screwing with my perception? I swallowed embarrassed but nevertheless, I had to see this through.

"Then there'll be no harm in taking this one too," I said and pushed the packet back towards her.

"Except that it'll prove that you don't trust me!" she argued. She was a little too stubborn in not taking that pill.

"Katie, I don't trust you! Not anymore! You lied about sneaking off to Mark, remember?" I reminded her, "just take the damn pill!" I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that this was all going wrong. It didn't feel like I was talking to the love of my life, but more like an adversary.

"And I thought we agreed to no more secrets! I've kept my word but it seems you're still keeping secrets from me. Why didn't you tell me you were watching?" she wanted to know, her voice still carrying.

Well, she had me there.

"I... I wanted to give you the freedom to enjoy yourself without... knowing I was there," I said, and even to myself it sounded lame.

"I guess that's why the bedroom-door won't shut anymore?" she figured. I shrugged, fighting a wave of humiliation and she continued: "whatever. But I'm the untrustworthy one?"

"Why won't you take the pill?" I demanded to know.

"Why won't you trust me?" she bit back.

"Because you lied to me! And suddenly there were two! Two fucking guys! And one of them was a fucking loser, and you fucking begged him to knock you up! That was your words, remember?" I exploded, throwing my calm overboard.

"Mark asked me to say that - he said it would get him off like nothing else. And it did!" she spat back, her temper flaring, "what should I have done? Stayed quiet and spent half the night with that idiot humping me? I could barely feel him after Mark, for crying out loud! You saw him, it's not like he was packing! And about 'two of them'... well Mark showed up with Patrick in tow and demanded I take them both! Should I have said no thanks? You would have been pissed too if I'd done that!" She stared at me with her lips curled back from her teeth and with a challenging look in her eyes.

My anger deflated. It made sense. Her explanation. But still...

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, "I... I want to believe you. But... please... take the pill. If... if only to show me that you don't want his kid..."

She gave me a long, hard look but finally she tore the packet apart, pricked the pill out of its plastic-case and swallowed it. She took a healthy swig of water to wash it down with.

"There. Happy? Or do you need to check my mouth to see that I've swallowed?" she asked cattishly, and I could only shrug. No, I wasn't happy. Far from it. I was disgusted, with myself with her and with how we were acting. She must have read it on my face because she softened.

"What is it?" she wondered.

"No..." I sighed, "I'm not happy." Her brows furrowed as she prepared herself for the fight to continue.

"I haven't been happy since... since the first night you spent with Mark, I think," I admitted after some thought. I'd been thinking about this since last night.

"Honey?" She looked positively worried now.

"I asked you, after our last fight, if you could stop seeing him, remember?"

"Yeah, of course," she replied and looked at me, "I said yes."

"I'm asking again now: can you stop seeing him?" I needed to know. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I think some of my apprehension shined through, because she got up and sat down next to me, taking my hand.

"Of course, honey," she told me earnestly, "as I said then, you're much more important."

"Then... then please stop seeing him, or anyone," I said, slowly. She looked a little surprised at that, actually. I think she only thought I needed to check on her loyalty, not actually cut her off from the Mark-sex.

"But... I thought this was what you wanted?" she asked, and that did not feel good, let me tell you that. Was she going to try to persuade me to keep seeing him?

"It... was. But... well, it's sexy, yeah, but it's at the expense of our marriage, our relationship and our... or at least, my happiness. Like this stupid fight... suddenly, I don't even trust you any more," I told her honestly, "what kind of marriage is that?" She studied me for a while but then nodded slowly.

"But then... you have to promise me one thing," she said, and my eyebrows flew up. Were we gonna negotiate her not seeing other men?

"Don't... don't ever ask me to sleep around again. I know you. In a couple of months or a year, you might look back and think that it was hot, and that we could try again but with another guy. And I'll say no, remind you of what happened but eventually, you'll wear me down and we'll end up here again with me eating hormones to kill a fetus that was never gonna be because I'm on the fucking pill!" She actually managed to smile at that, make light at one of the low-points in our marriage. I hugged her. It felt so right.

"You're sure, though? That you can cut off the best sex of your life?" I wondered, maybe a little teasing.

"Oh honey," she sighed, "he wasn't the best. The most explosive, and the orgasms... you wouldn't believe the orgasms! But... well, afterwards, I was always... disgusted with myself. Like how I did that loser, Patrick last night? Or how they took me for granted... No, when I was with Mark, I came and came hard. But with you?" She gave me an appreciative look, "with you, I feel loved and... worthy. For a while, I lost sight of why that's more important..."

Yeah, I kissed her after that. What else could I do? I was married to the most wonderful woman in the world after all, and she was all mine.

There you go. Thanks for sticking with me and Tom through all of this. Please vote and comment.