Richard said no the therapy for the last time and I was at my wits end. How many times could I suggest something to a man who was simply unwilling to try? I thought. This was the final argument. I felt like our marriage was a complete failure. Did he mean it when he said it was my eyes that caught him? Was he lying on our wedding day when he said I was the most beautiful woman in the world? The man I married was a narcissist and I had enough of his lack of interest in anything that involved the exploration of feelings. How could I stay with a man who could not even say 'I love you' anymore? There was a point in our marriage that I would have given anything to hear him say those words, but not anymore. I had grown weary of trying to please a man that could not be satisfied. At first I thought perhaps living with someone for ten years changes them, but I did not change, I still felt as in love with him as I did when I was twenty. Not anymore, the fine line between love and hate had been crossed and I was done. I was suffocating, the walls around me closing in, trapped in a loveless marriage.
When playing a game of tug of war, two people pull on the opposite side of a rope, some sort of object is placed on the ground and paint is applied to the middle of the rope. Both persons pull until the rope becomes tort and there is tension, then the person that is able to pull the painted ring successfully over the object to their side wins. Love is a game of tug and war! And only fools fall victim to its spell - pulling as hard as they can, until one person falls. In physics, tension is referred to as a 'pulling force', and the dictionary may return the meaning as the act of stretching something tight. So tension involves pulling, stretching and tightness. Tension!
In all relationships, I think one person always loves more than the other. It's impossible, I think, that two people can love each other the same measure. We are all naturally flawed that way. That's why one arm is always longer than the other and one eye larger than the other. We were never meant to love in the same way. What a bore the world would be if everyone was perfect.
Richard and I had Tension-the wrong kind, my patience was wearing thin, pulled to maximum capacity, stretched to the point of spontaneous combustion. I was on the verge of snapping, breaking, a volcanic eruption was eminent. Heated words exchange, violent eruptions of tempers ensues, we are fighting again. Doors slammed in faces, dishes crashing to pieces on the floor-the result of the rope that kept us bound breaking. It had been pulled so tort that it crushed the tenets of our marriage us within, now it had broken into a million pieces. We were on the verge of divorce-on the verge of ending 10 years of marriage. Why not? It seems like the only way people resolve problems today- they divorce from it. The house was a scene from the movie 'War of Roses', the papers had not yet been signed yet the line had been drawn in the sand and house was divided.
I could not stand his touch anymore, especially since I found lipstick on his shirt collar a few weeks back. 'It's from a client' he says. Yeah right! What type of client leaves lipstick on your collar? Unless he was in the prostitution business, then sure, that would be fine. This is the way men sought to resolve issues in their marriage these days. They dumped their emotional struggles into the watery cunt of some tramp that had the morals of an alley cat. Imagine that bitch had the nerve to cheat on me. It sickened me to see the image of some immature cunt sucking my husband's cock while he choked her almost unconscious and giving him exactly what he wanted. After 10 years of marriage, he had the nerve to seek pleasure outside our home. It's no wonder he rejected my suggestions for therapy especially when he could so easily get his ego stroked by some ignorant trollop. Even after I so diligently ensured that my slender frame stayed intact, that my skin still glowed the way it did when we said our vows, that my hair was rich and dark brown, not a grey and dull; he still had the nerve to stray. And to think that I did the kegel exercises till my face turned blue, just so that my pussy was tight enough to grip his cock and give him the sensation he needed to climax. In hind sight, I think was such a waste. Imagine that, I preserved my beauty and for what? Huh? All that work for this piece of shit, this scum bag to fucking cheat on me. Ugh! When I think about the work I put into boosting his ego, I cringe. Waking up an hour before he did, just so I could put on a fresh face for him to marvel at when he opened his eyes. Waiting till he fell asleep then to apply the cream that kept my skin soft and face youthful and to put the curlers in, the big ones that kept my delicious brown curls bouncy. Perhaps all that did not matter, if you cannot give a man exactly what he wanted. It was hard to forgive his indiscretions and even though I could not forget.
It seemed like two months ago was the final draw for me and for Richard. Now he could not stand to look at me and after I caught him cheating, I could not bear his sight either. We were now to enemies sharing the same space. I felt so alone. I needed passion- I wanted passion, passion like in the early years before the affair, when he would tear my clothes off, pinning me against the kitchen counter, while scrambling to undo his zipper, then ramming his cock deep into my snatch. But now the sight of Richard at this stage offended my eyes. The last time we had sex, all 3 minutes of it, I was half awake and to make matters worse, that's when he decided to experiment; pulling out his cock just as he was about to cum and ejaculating in my face. I was taken off guard, my eyes had been rolled up staring at the ceiling and my mouth gaping open, just about to fake my last powerful orgasm and without warning my mouth was filled with his salty cum. I almost died from choking on his cream. As I sat there coughing and gagging, the fool had this smug look on his face. I could have punched him in the face or even better I should have sat on his face, smearing my wet pussy over his mouth and nose and suffocated the ass to death! Headline news would read "HUSBAND DIES FROM DROWING IN HIS WIFE'S CUNT". Ha! Not likely since this is a cruel world.
They say "revenge is a dish best served cold"-I was inspired. Mine was going to be beastly. Before I kick the bitch to the curb, I was going to make him suffer. I would let him to know exactly what he was about to throw away. After I was finished with him, his dick would hurt as much as his heart! "Richard could you come home…something happened" is the message I left on his voicemail. If he cared, it should take him just about an hour to haul his ass home-just enough time for me to prepare. Rapid thundering on the door, a little harder and he could have dug a whole into the frame with his knuckles. Apparently he cared, since it had not been longer than 45 minutes that the message was left on his phone. "Break the door down, you idiot!' I'm thinking to myself. It did not even occur to him that he had a key or did he think I was devious enough to change the locks since our last fight a few hours ago. Perhaps he thought I had killed myself! I hear the window break -he threw a rock through it. I guess he did think I had changed the locks after all. I was flattered by the idea. I could hear his feet crushing the sharp shards of glass scattered on the ground. He was desperate now…searching for me. Did he think I was dead? He makes his way upstairs opening doors, turning over furniture, calling my name "Ally you there..Al you ok, talk to me babe..Ally?" he cries. I could hear the frustration and anxiety in his voice, his tone breaking, he sounds almost sad. I was certain now that he thought the worst.
The door swung open, slamming against the wall and Richard stood in the midst of the threshold panting, his hair disheveled, sweat dripping from his skull, running down to his exposed chest. Hands gripping either side of the door frame. His tie was missing; the two top buttons of his shirt were undone. He must have used the tie to wrap around his fist and punch a hole in the glass window. His head bent, eyes staring at the floor. "Look up you bastard" I said to myself. I'm there lying on the bed, legs sprawled across the width of the frame. He was afraid to look at me, instead he kept his head bent; it was as if he has just walked in on the scene of a gruesome murder. Perhaps his heart was too weak and he could not bear the sight of me. "Hmmm" I groaned, to let him know that life had not left me and that it was okay to look. He looked up and if his facial expression could have spoken then it would have said 'what the fuck?" His ebony pupils dilate, his jaw swings open and I began to wonder if I had gone too far.
He looks up to see me lying on the bed with my legs stretched apart, ankles strapped to the bed post. Black leather straps wrapped around my ankle like vines to a tree trunk, just above ruby red, dazzling 7 inch pumps. Smooth ivory thighs hidden under brown laced stockings. Red peek-a-boo lace panties on covering just the tiny strip of flesh under my navel, exposing my naked tender pink meaty cunt, splayed wide open revealing the deep moist core. A clip affixed to my clit connected by a string which ran all the way up to gag over my mouth. If I moved the string would pull the clip, pinching my clit and cause excruciating pain. Bronzy metal spiral ring cups sink into the rosy flesh of my breasts with a clamp set down over dark pink nipples. Two outstretched arms bound to either side of the head board posts with leather straps. Black chain links hug my neck like a tattoo. It was quite a display. God only knows why I did this, subjecting myself to such excruciating pain. I started to regret leaving that panicked message on Richard's phone causing him to break into the house, to stand here, right now, heaving and sweating from head to toe. His light blue half buttoned cotton shirt, now transparent from soaking in his sweat stuck to his bulging chest like paint to a canvas. His dark brown nipples printed through the flimsy material.
Richard stared as if someone was dangling a briefcase filled with gold bars before his eyes. He licked his lips, forgetting that his knuckles were still bleeding from having smashed it through the window glass. His erection grew, pounding against the inside of his crotch, pressing against the side of his left thigh, begging him to put an end to its misery. He looked into my eyes, the eyes that were begging him to come set me free. Richard had never looked hotter, I forgot my hatred for a moment and I wanted him now. "Come closer" I said in my head, hoping he could read. All I could do to indicate that I wanted him was to groan. The sound rolled over the rubber ball stuffed inside my mouth and entered his ear. His eyes lit up like a child eager to bite into hard candy. He heard me and he approached slowly, scanning me with his eyes. Was this too much, had I gone too far? I began to wonder. He got to the side of the bed close enough for me to feel the heat emanating from his sweaty skin sting my flesh and my heart began to race. It thundered like the beating of drums and I realized I was way in over my head. If I wanted to back out now, it was too late. I was caught in my own snare. He traced his fingers over the straps around my ankle, checking the tension then he slid them over the shiny smooth surface of my pumps. Forgetting that the call I made was fake, that I was not in trouble and that it was in fact a carefully thought out plot to lure his poor soul in my trap. He flicked them off exposing my polished toes. He injected his fingers through the spaces in my right foot then pulled them up and out. Then he lowered his head and began to lick my toes, one by one, coating them in his saliva. He sucked on them like they were lollipops. Then he kissed my foot and slid his soft lips up to my ankle, biting onto the leather strap; he tugged gently. I wanted to throw my head back and groan, but it was at the risk of being strangled by the chain around my neck. I took the risk and nearly fainted. He made his way up my foot, kissing and licking until he reached my thigh. I could feel his hard erection pressing against my knee, his face now almost lost between my thighs. He caught the pegs of the clip pinned to my clit, with his teeth and gently squeezed them. I quivered, the pain was incredible and surprisingly it turned me on even more that I already was. I could feel my vagina getting moist to the point where slime leaked out running down the folds of my snatch, making my pussy glisten. Richard stuck his stiff tongue in my hole, digging deep into my snatch and sucked, drawing more of my juice out into his warm mouth. I wanted to grind on his face but I was bound any movement on my part would result in excruciating pain. Again I took the risk and the reward was worth it. The sensation from his sucking soothed the pain. It was salt mixed with sugar. A new kind of tension existed now.
After soaking my cunt with his saliva, he made his way up my abdomen, stopping briefly at my navel to stick his tongue in and tickle it for a moment; careful not to pull or touch any of my restraints. Then he made his way up to my throbbing breasts that were engorged and red from having been crushed in their metal cage. He bit down on my hard tender nipples, rolling his tongue over, under and around them, coating them in the moisture from his mouth. He could not stand that they were trapped beneath a cage, so he freed them only to grab a handful and caress them. The blood rushed back into the swells and filled the surface of my skin until it blushed. He was having fun with this, knowing that I could not protest, that he could do whatever he wanted to me and I could not say no or stop. He had the power to fulfill his ultimate fantasy. He slid his hand down to my inner thighs, parting my lips and mixing his fingers into my slime. He tasted it, licking it off his fingers then he dipped in again for another swim, walking two of his digits inside the walls of my snatch. I felt like closing my legs, trapping his hand inside me and contracting the walls of my pussy so that they squeezed them. He wanted to kiss me and I could feel it by just looking to his eyes. All the while he rubbed the erection in his pants onto my stomach until it hurt. I wanted to undo his zipper and pull out his enormous cock. He read my mind and pulled out the 9 inches of human steel and plunged it deep into my hole. His pelvis brushed against the clip clinging to my clit sending me into a frenzy of orgasmic spasms. Tears rolled out my eyes staining my cheeks as he slid in and out of me. My pussy hugged his cock like a vine, wrapping around his shaft pulling his foreskin over its mushroom head as he slid out and shoving it back to the hairy based as he penetrated. The pace intensified and I felt that I would choke on the saliva in my mouth. The cupped his hand around my neck and squeezed down until it was difficult to breath. I coughed and he released it slightly, just enough for me to catch my breath but hard enough for me to feel his intensity and enough clitoral stimulation to reach my climax. My cum squirted out coating his cock. He slammed his dick harder and harder into me, sending vibrations throughout my body. I shook with agonizing pleasure. He lowered his head to the side of my face, breathing heavily into my ear until it was hot and wet. His orgasm came with a roar like a lion, his body trembled and his liquid gushed inside me like a raging flood. For a moment he laid on top of me, his dick dying slowly inside my wet cunt, until he regained his strength. Then he looked up at me, deep into my eyes and I looked at him. He was Richard again, the one I married, the one before the affair. I wasn't disgusted by him; he had made me cum again. I gave him his fantasy. Was this all we needed? I wondered. Handing him the divorce papers now would surely sting. I could give him another chance. If we could make love like this then I'd give him another chance. He released me from my restraints, my body ached. He massaged my tender spots with his hands and held me close, cuddling with me. As I crouched in his arms I knew I could not go through with my plan. I abandoned my efforts, falling in love again with the man I had married ten years ago.