You’re Not My Husband

It was the way he was fucking me. There was something different. It was wrong. He was on top of me, I was under him, and Simon didn't fuck like this. He had both his hands on my wrists, pinning me down. I was coming, but then I saw this look in his eyes, darkness and hatred. I got scared. I tried to get up. He held me down.

"Simon, we're done. I need to go to the bathroom." He laughed and kept fucking me. "Simon come on." He put his hand over my mouth and then let go of one of my wrists. Then he shoved a pillow in my face.

I screamed, my voice muffled. Everything was black, I couldn't see. I struck out with my hips and my legs and somehow I got him off of me and I could see again. He was at the foot of the bed, breathing fast. I had kicked him in the balls. I stared at him and screamed. His face didn't look right, it was all twisted and the color was wrong. It was like he was wearing a mask that got ripped off.

"You're not Simon." I got off the bed slowly. He was watching me; his mouth was pursed into a thin line as he glowered at me. "Who the fuck are you?" His come dripped from my pussy as I found my robe. My nipples were still hard and my pussy was still wet. Was I turned on?

"Come on, bitch, you're not this basic. You know who I am. You've always known."

"Are you the devil?" I looked around the room for a weapon, something I could use to hit him again. My phone was still downstairs.

He laughed. "Only to Simon. Come on. You've always suspected. I know you know."

"Are you .... Virgil?" Virgil was Simon's alter ego in his writing. I found his blog last month. He was writing all these really weird sex stories, dark and obsessive, talking to women, and I thought he was cheating on me, but I hadn't confronted him with it. He's been having so many troubles at work, I didn't want to put something else on him.

"You've got it. I'm Virgil. I'm the guy your husband has always wanted to be. I look how he wants to look, I talk how he wants to talk, I fuck how he wants to fuck." He got off the bed, and I could see his erection. I ran to the bathroom and locked the door.

He pounded the door. "You fucking bitch. I'm going to break this door down." This was the one knob in our house without the privacy lock. My heart was beating too fast and my throat was dry. My pussy was throbbing. It didn't hurt ... I wanted him to keep fucking me. Shit! I felt like an animal, panicking, running back and forth. I needed to take some control back.

"Hey asshole! Quit pounding the door. You get away from the door and stay on the other side of the room and I'm going to come out."

"OK." I heard his footsteps, and I slowly opened the door and came out. He was still nude, now sitting on the chair opposite the bed. There was something awakening in me, something I couldn't understand and control. My whole body was vibrating.

I sat on the bed. "You need to tell me what the fuck is going on."

He shook his head. His face looked like Simon's again, but something was off. "I don't think there's a word for what I am. Simon's not ... he's not what he is. He's not what he was. He never was."

"You're just talking bullshit. You're not making any sense."

"I'm trying to explain. There's nothing in him, just a chill." I shivered. There was a shadow of unreality, like I had entered a parallel universe. "He used to think that everyone was like him, but they're not. He learned how to pretend. He learned how to act. And he got used to being so many people; no one would suspect he was nothing."

"Why did you hurt me?"

"I thought it would make him feel something. I thought it would make him come back to protect you. But he didn't. I think he's really gone." Virgil looked frightened for the first time.

"Where did you even come from? Are you a demon?"

"I don't know what I am. He made me. I was a shape in his dream. Then he wrote me into a story, and one day I was in his car and we kissed and he was gone. He made me too good."

He would have passed for Simon, but his voice and movements were completely different. It was more like an actor who looks like another actor, but you know they're different. There was something wild about him. Something sexy and beautiful and tragic. I should have been frightened. But there was a sweetness to him. I wanted him.

"Look, it's OK. It's OK if Simon doesn't come back." I sat back against the headboard and opened my robe. I spread my legs and opened my pussy with my hands. "I want you inside me."

He locked eyes with me, and moved across the room like a panther. He was in the bed, eating my pussy as I clung to the headboard. Then he was on me, all arms and legs, his mouth hot on mine. He was fucking me, fast and strong. I moved with him, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him to me as he pushed in. And then he was turning me over, drawing my ass up to him, pulling my arms behind me as he fucked me, my head buried in the pillows. He was fucking me deeper than I've ever felt, hitting part of me I'd never known. I was screaming, I was coming.