Sometimes I look at him and I swear I don't know my own husband.
In a moment the light will shift and I'll recognize him as the man I married back when I had barely gotten graduated from college. It sounds crazy perhaps but it's like being married to two different men. Part of that's the day job, from the time he had been recruited by military intelligence to the time he worked as a covert operative until he abruptly quit and then went into business for himself.
Not by himself because back then, his partner had of course been Brock. The two were as different as night and day because although both had been star jocks, they'd played different sports. Brock liked to go camping and mountain climbing which honed his body to perfection while my husband kept himself closer to his small town lifestyle, aching for life in the larger cities.
I don't know how I'd picked one of them over the other. Only that Devlin had been the one that had gotten me to the altar courting me through high school and college if it could be called that. Small town life often breeds high school sweethearts who marry young and then have lots of children.
That didn't happen for us, not right away and the son; a younger version in looks to his father came first after much of trial and error. Devlin called it his toughest mission and I didn't know if he was joking. But our son was finally born though Devlin had been half a world away on some assignment.
Tiffany of course came along later.
My husband headed off to do some errands including picking up some things at the hardware store to finish his repairs on the deck out back. He keeps himself busy with projects when he's not holed up in his office or god knows where.
I'm not naïve and I've only been stupid a few times in my life. I know my husband better than he thinks and I know that he's been with other women. I've heard the whispers around town that he's got the eye for young girls but I pretend not to listen. I'm not going down that road of being the object of pity among those who engage in small town gossip. I keep myself busy improving the town that gave me so much, gave me life.
He had been gone on his errands longer than I'd expect him to be. Soon enough, there'd be a flurry of whispers about where he'd been and who with; would it be the daughter of the town banker in the bathroom at the bookstore? Would it be that piece of trash Elsie at the deserted drive in movie theater in the back seat of the car? He used to take me there when we first dated in high school and neither of us remembers what movies had been playing when we steamed up the windows in his Mustang.
It's just better to ignore what's going on rather than confront Devlin on his wandering cock. I've got my kids to think about mostly Tiffany who's been going through so much lately. Though she resisted his authority as a parent, she's very close with the father who raised her from birth. She'd always been daddy's little girl until the awkward teenage years pushed them apart for some years before she started college and had been comfortable with spending time with him again. I don't have the heart to tell her that her father's fucked his way around town; probably going back to before she'd been born. I know that he had started with the nannies who we hired during the summer months.
He spent too much time alone in the house with them and some of them seemed overly friendly with a man who could be their father. It sickened me from the time of the first girl he had seduced, one of the neighbors had heard the noise they'd made one summer afternoon and had casually joked to me later on about how it must be great to be married and still doing it au natural. I played along and she had told me she'd heard us going at it while gardening in her own yard and I just blinked my eyes.
Shock hitting me because I'd never fucked Devlin outside in the backyard. In fact, I hadn't even been home at the time of course. I had studied their faces later that night at the dinner table while feeding my son and the way they acted…Devlin could hide anything from me if he wanted to badly enough but the au pair, I looked at her face, the way her mouth quivered and knew it had wrapped itself around my husband's cock and blew it.
If I sound crude, god chalk it to how much it pisses me off to think back to the day he first spit in my face and then the way I spent years just enduring it.
But I hadn't been innocent either and I had my own secrets. One of them had been Devlin's business partner and best friend Brock who spent a lot of time at our house. I knew he liked me, I knew he looked at me even when I wasn't looking. I'd catch him at it and damn if he were cocky enough to not look away embarrassed to be caught coveting his friend's wife.
Not that I had planned to do anything, certainly not to cheat on my husband. I had been raised a good girl after all.
But as it turned out Brock had other plans.
I looked out the window and saw Tiffany talking with Ruby out by the swimming pool. Probably worried about her friend because Ruby had been looking a bit peaked lately when I saw her…but who can blame her? She's got so much on her plate to overcome having a father who abandoned her and a mother who spent years being the town slut. Not being given much by her parents, Ruby found it at our house and she spent most of her childhood in to her teens here and both she and Tiffany were roommates back in college.
They ate the sandwiches I had prepared for them and sipped the chilled iced sweet tea I'd made last night waiting for my husband to come home and while Tiffany had been out with her latest boyfriend.
I don't spend much time out on the deck anymore preferring to stay out of the hot sun and spending most evenings at meetings But I held onto the panel with my hands as I remembered one lazy afternoon many summers ago.
My husband had been working on a project out of town and so that left me alone with my son and the latest nanny who he'd probably fucked before he left to the airport. I hadn't been so sure back then as I would be later but I felt the unease when I saw them exchange glances as she held our son and he picked up his suitcase to leave.
Brock had come over to help fix the barbecue out back so it'd be ready by the time Devlin returned. It had started out innocently enough but by then, we were both well on our way to being guilty. I knew he wanted to fuck me, I'd known for a while but I held back…because damn I was married and even if our vows meant nothing to Devlin, they mattered to me.
Right up to the moment I stood in my pink string bikini in front of Brock in his denim cutoffs and stained work shirt. My pussy throbbed beneath my bikini bottoms in ways it hadn't in too long. I knew if he slid his fingers underneath the fabric and teased me there with them, he'd find me very slick and wet. He'd know how much I'd wanted him. But he smoothed my hair off of my face with one hand while he brushed my mouth with his lips coaxing my own lips apart. We'd kissed before, steamy and hot until one of us would break away remembering.
Not today…he ran his hands over my sides, my hips and teased the hem of my bikini bottoms as his mouth explored mine. I opened it up for him and his tongue filled it, so hot and wet…I felt exquisite pleasure which wound me up even tighter.
"Oh Brock…god…I've wanted…," is what I think I said. But coherent thought left me and he sealed my mouth closed with another kiss. My body feeling all bothered fidgeted against his hard frame. Then he lowered himself until he was on his knees, my pussy still sheathed in cotton near his mouth. He flicked his tongue at it, before using his lips to nip at my pussy lips not letting the barrier stop him. I nearly jumped out of my skin…I'd always been so damn sensitive down there and for so long, I'd wanted my husband to lick me, eat my pussy until it turned inside out with more pleasure than I thought I could handle.
But if Devlin did oral on women, it wasn't me and I'd been so frustrated for so long that when Brock toyed at me with his hot tongue I almost fainted. He gripped my upper thighs to hold onto me before inching his fingers to pull my bottoms down at last.
I arched my back as he licked the folds of my wet pussy, tracing every part of it, teasing my clit which drove me wild. I clutched his head with my own hands willing him closer to where I wanted him. His tongue traced the seam gently opening it and then his tongue thrust inside.
I knew I couldn't scream but then what the hell? My husband had titillated the neighbor's ears when screwing one of the nannies so what was so wrong with giving into my urge to cry and scream my way to the point I came against Brock's mouth.
"You taste so damn good," he said, "Now you know I'm going to fuck that pussy later but I couldn't go any longer without tasting it."
I sighed in response, words no longer possible. Just holding onto him as his amazing tongue fucked my pussy and slid against my clit, sending me skyward.
When I came against his tongue I screamed and the whole neighborhood could have heard me. I didn't give a fuck; excuse me because it had been what I'd craved for so long.
As I came down, I knew that I'd let him fuck me. I might just beg him to do me but as it turned out I didn't have to do that. We heard the door open and my husband stood in the doorway looking at us.
There wasn't anything to witness. I'd pulled my bikini up by then and the only trace of what we'd done was on Brock's lips.
Though I fucked Brock after that, it was that memory that I still used when I lay in bed at night either alone or next to my sleeping husband and I fondled myself, the part of me that so badly needed it. I think about fucking Brock still but I know that what we had was in the past.
Still the past has ways of revisiting you that you don't expect.