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‘Was she any good?’
It’s four in the morning, and I watch my husband undress. Aaron has just arrived home and, momentarily, I feel sorry for him as he finds it impossible to look me in the eye. He drops his jeans to the floor, leaving them in a crumpled heap, and that will probably infuriate me in the morning.
But, right now, his untidiness is irrelevant. I have other things to think about, more pressing issues. Such as, who has my husband fucked this time?
We have an ‘open’ relationship but, strangely, Aaron is usually embarrassed after he’s been out with another woman. I flick off the bedside lamp, knowing darkness helps shut out the awkwardness he feels. When he climbs into bed, I quickly curl into his hard body and feel the warmth of his arm as he pulls me close to his chest, kissing me on the forehead.
‘She was okay, I guess,’ he admits, his dulcet tones echoing in the inky darkness, and then he sighs. It’s a heavy sigh, and I’m aware he’s shaking his head up above me on the pillow. ‘I always feel sorry when you ask me,’ he murmurs.
My fingers curl among the hairs on his chest. I know Aaron so well; I feel like I know every hair on his chest and his head. I love him with every fibre of my being, which is why I permit his penchant for sleeping with other women.
We have a fantastic marriage; Aaron looks after me, and I take care of him. The other women? Well, is just , right? Plus, being honest, a part of me gets a huge thrill when he tells me exactly what he’s been up to. I know it may sound a little weird but, somehow, I get a kick out of it because Aaron always returns to my bed.
However, the same rule doesn’t apply to me. Aaron is insanely jealous of any man even being in a close vicinity to me, but that somehow makes me feel protected.
‘So, tell me,’ I insist, nudging him in the ribs.
He groans. ‘Must we do this?’ There’s anguish in his voice, but this is where I have the upper hand. Yes, he can do what he wants—but I insist he tells me all about it. I get off on it. It makes me feel powerful.
Before you start to think I’m a walkover in this marriage, I’ll tell you something about our circumstances. I’m the primary breadwinner. I run a successful business, and, to all intents and purposes, I own Aaron. I’m the boss.
I look after our finances, and I keep him in the way he has become accustomed. Aaron other women is a perversion for me and a pleasure to him until he feels guilty. Like he does now. I’m the ultimate accommodating wife, but I also like to be in control. I can’t imagine how awful I’d feel if Aaron slept with a woman behind my back. And God forbid if he fell in love with her because I need him in my life.
Aaron has always been a bad boy. I guess that’s part of the attraction. Let’s just say he had lived on the wrong side of the law before I persuaded him to retire. However, when someone has led an exciting life—a life also dripping in danger—something has to replace it to stop boredom kicking in. So, I came up with our ‘arrangement.’
‘Did she suck your cock?’ I ask, cupping his balls, massaging them gently, and feeling his cock stirring.
‘Yes, but she was rubbish.’
‘You always say that, Aaron,’ I whisper in his ear before licking his fleshy lobe.
This is our routine. Aaron tells me they’re rubbish and then he fucks me hard, violently at times, and tonight is no exception. He grabs me, turns me around onto all fours, and shoves his hard cock inside me. There’s no foreplay because Aaron likes hard and I moan before he pushes my face down into the pillow with one hand, using the other to grab my hair and yank my head to the side.
‘You make me fuck them.’
I like it when he says that. It’s like he feels humiliated, and the very thought causes me to come over his cock.
‘Can we make love?’ he suddenly asks, and I find myself laughing.
‘No, I want it hard,’ I tell him. ‘I want you to fuck me and say how crap the woman was. I need you to show me how much you want and appreciate your wife.’
He flips me back over, climbs on top and kisses me hard before biting my lip, his hands stroking my face. ‘No one will ever be as good as you, bitch,’ he hisses.
I drape my legs across his shoulders as he pumps my pussy hard like he has finally come home.
Harder and harder he pounds me until I feel my orgasm building. My nails dig into his back, and he grips my thighs, pulling me harder and harder onto his cock as I come, gushing all over his cock again and soaking the bedsheets. That triggers Aaron, and he spurts, filling me with his hot seed.
I cling to him and get off on the warmth of his sated body, and the fact that someone else’s mouth has been around his cock earlier and it wasn’t at all satisfying.
Slowly, Aaron withdraws and lies beside me, pulling me to him. I close my eyes and smile. We love each other, and it may not be conventional but who cares? We have a special bond; it’s just that our idea of love is different and it’s good to be different, isn’t it?
Aaron whispers into my ear, ‘I love you, Victoria,’ and promptly falls asleep.
I don’t doubt him for a second.
