My entry for the Twi Kink Fest. Thanks to the prompt writer, I hope you enjoy my efforts to bring it to life :o)
Prompt: E/B/A E&B are married. He cheats with her bff Angela. B finds out & tortures herself reading their very dirty email exchanges, sexts, & vms (described within the story) while trying to decide what to do. Even follows them one night & watches them fucking in his car (very graphic, dirty talking, & hot). Goes home to bed thinking about what she saw. Turned on by the raw fucking, gets wet, and masturbates thinking about them, coming very hard but then feels awful & heartbroken. ANGST!
Warning: Contains scenes of a sexual nature and infidelity. If the themes mentioned in the prompt are at risk of upsetting you, please do not read on.
Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, as do the 'fade to black' scenes ;o)
Of Pleasure and Pain
He even looks tired as he sleeps, I think to myself as I tiptoe around the bedroom putting the clean clothes away. His boss has been working him so damn hard lately. He's never at home, and when he is, he's either working or sleeping. We've not even eaten our evening meal yet; he came upstairs to change, but apparently only got as far as taking his shoes and tie off before he surrendered to the comfort of the bed.
His cell phone lays next to him on top of the duvet. I look at it with disdain. It's actually silent for once, although I'm pretty sure that it won't remain mute for long, then he'll be up, about and stressed again. I reach over and pick it up, careful not to disturb him. I quickly switch it to silent so the sound of it doesn't rouse him if – no, when – it rings, and tiptoe from the room taking it with me. If anybody wants him, they'll have to get through me first. I'm determined my man will get some of the rest that I know he desperately needs, whether he admits it or not.
He's not been the same lately. He's short with me, he snipes at me, he makes me cry…and then he apologises. He's sorry, he says, he's just so tired and stressed. He doesn't know if he's coming or going, and here I am, with my simple little job. He wishes I could understand. He wishes he had my life.
Yeah, because it's so great being me. The company at home is scintillating; I feel so blessed.
I enter the kitchen and sigh as I plate up yet another meal I'll sit and eat alone. I've just put the plate down on the table, when his phone starts to vibrate next to it. I glance at the screen to see who's calling. No number, just 'A'. I decide I'll let it ring and check his voicemail after.
I'm putting the second forkful of pasta into my mouth, when a text comes through to say he has a voicemail. As I wait for the service to connect, I wonder if he has a pin number on his account. He doesn't.
"Edward, Baby, it's me," a girl's voice says. My heart stops, and then begins to pound. This isn't right. Something isn't right. "I thought you were going to meet me tonight?" I feel sick as I rise to my feet. "I've been thinking about you all day…you, and that magnificent cock of yours." She giggles. I know that giggle. I know that voice. "I want you. Call me."
She hangs up, I fall down.
I'm trembling on the floor, too numb to feel, too confused to cry. Is this some mistake? A misunderstanding? Her words replay in my head. No. No misunderstanding, it couldn't be clearer.
Oh, Bella, he's never here. He's always working. You should have known. Why didn't you know?
I did know. I absolutely knew and she talked me out of it. She made me feel ridiculous for considering it. She. Made me. Feel guilty. Bitch. How does she sleep at night? When she's not wrapped around my husband, that is.
I slowly get to my feet and manage to sit back down at the table. I push the plate as far away as I can reach, and then turn my attention back to the phone in my hand. Where to start? I open his text messages and scroll down the list.
Work...work…A. I stop breathing as I touch the screen and look at the conversation in front of me. He texted her last.
You were amazing bb. Can't wait to make you scream my name again xx
Bastard, bastard, bastard. I look further down.
Can't get out of my head what you did to me yesterday! Keep touching myself when I think about it. Thinking of you gets me so wet x
And further still.
Every time I close my eyes I see my cock sliding in and out of that tight, wet pussy of yours. You ride me so good bb x
Scrolling down I see more and more of the same. And then, a picture she's sent him. I was right, it is her, I know that butterfly tattoo above her left breast; I was with her when she got it. What I didn't know is how much my husband loves to kiss it. I know now, because it's written here. I suspect his words will now be as permanently etched onto my brain as that tattoo is onto her skin.
I press the button so they disappear from the screen and are replaced by the picture of me that adorns his screen. I look happy. It's an old photograph.
I stare into space for a moment, my knee bouncing frantically at the same speed at which my head is spinning. Looking back at the screen, I press the email icon. There, nestled amongst his work emails, is one from this afternoon. I open the oldest one first.
Angela angela_ to me 11.03am
I'm so bored, waiting for my next meeting. I wish you were here, you know all the best ways to kill time ;) xxx
Edward to Angela 11.05am
I'm hard just thinking about it, good job I have my own office. Actually, that really didn't help. All I can think of now is bending you over my desk.
Angela angela_ to me 11.06am
Oh God! I wish I was there, I would love you to! You think we can do that sometime? It may just have become my next fantasy. Describe it to me… xx
Edward to Angela 11.14am
I'd be working late, the only one left in the office. I'm getting a little restless because it's late, when there's a knock at my office door. I answer it, and there you are. You step inside and I close the door behind you. You turn around in your fuck-me shoes and slowly unbutton your raincoat. As it falls open I see that you have on a tight shirt, tiny skirt, stockings and suspenders. You stalk towards me, dropping your coat on the floor. You back me up to the door and kiss me hard. Your hands are all over me, inside my shirt at first, but then unbuttoning my pants and sliding down, inside, until you wrap your hand around my, straining, rock hard… ;)
Angela angela_ to me 11.15am
DON'T STOP! I can't stop squirming ;) Please, tell me more xxx
Edward to Angela 11.16am
What's it worth?
Angela angela_ to me 11.17am
Oh, come on, we both know that blow jobs are the international currency of sex. And you know how much you like it when I let you cum in my mouth ;)
Edward to Angela 11.18am
And we both know how much more I like it when you let me cum on your face. I love a dirty girl.
I pause for a moment. I've never seen this side of Edward before. Our lovemaking has always been just that; making love. It's sweet and it's nice. As devastated as I am by this whole situation, there's a tiny part of my brain that is intrigued to know what dirty sex with Edward would be like. I feel a stirring between my legs, and immediately feel sick. What the hell is wrong with me? I've just found out that my husband has been having an affair with my best friend, and I'm thinking about sex? I try to ignore what just ran through my brain, and carry on reading, out of some sort of sick, masochistic urge.
Angela angela_ to me 11.19am
Don't I know it :p. So, we have a deal, now carry on! I want to know what happens next xxx
Edward to Angela 11.30am
Ok, so, you're holding me in your hand, and I'm leaking all over you as you work me up and down. You're moaning into my mouth because you love the feel of me in your hand, and you're imagining how good it will be when you have me where you really want me – inside that delicious, wet pussy of yours. My hands are all over you now too. I slide a hand up your thigh to your ass to find you don't have any panties on. I can't wait any longer. I begin to push you back across the office until you bump into my desk. I spin you around, bend you over and slide my cock into you. You're calling out, telling me how fucking good it feels. I bury myself inside you over and over, and my balls slap on your ass. I grab one of your thighs and lift it to spread you wider for me, placing your knee on the desk. You want it harder, and I wrap your hair around my hand and tug your head back, making you gasp as I pound into you. You begin to cry out, calling my name as you cum once and then again, before I cum right inside you, filling you up. As I pull out of you, you turn, drop to your knees and suck my cock clean, then you stand and we kiss. Holy fuck, I'm about to cum in my pants. Are you busy tonight?
Angela angela_ to me 11.32am
Well I am now. What time do you want me there? I am soaking wet now, getting through the rest of the day will be hell xxx
Edward to Angela 11.33am
I have to go home first then I'll try and get out of the house later. I'll call you x
I press the button and set the phone back down on the table. Above my head I hear footsteps: Edward is up. I'm not sure I'm ready for the big confrontation yet; I need more time to process the information that has just rocked the foundations of my world. I get quickly to my feet, scrape the remains of my dinner into the trash and rinse my plate. I'm just putting it into the dishwasher as Edward walks in. His top buttons are undone, his shirt is creased and his hair is sticking up all over the place. He catches sight of himself in the reflection of the window cast by the kitchen light against the dark glass, and runs his fingers through his messy bronze hair. He rests against the counter and reaches for me. I'm hesitant, not sure I want the hands that have been touching another woman, to touch me. I give in and stand close, although I can't bring myself to put my hands on him, instead resting them against my own chest as his arms wrap around me.
"Are you OK?" he asks, kissing my head. "You seem tense."
"I feel a little ill," I tell him. It's not a lie.
"You should get an early night," he tells me. He strokes my hair and I wonder what it would be like for those hands to make a fist around it and pull it as he fucks me, instead of his usual gentle touch. "I have to go back to the office anyway; I just remembered something I forgot to do."
Yeah, we both know what that is now.
"Do you have to go? I'm feeling a little low. I could really use the company."
Choose me. Choose me. Please choose me.
"I'm sorry, Bella. It's important."
So am I. I hang my head and he cups my face, bringing it up so I'm looking into his eyes. I search for something different there, although what, I don't know. Guilt? Regret? Anything to make me feel even the slightest bit better. There's nothing; he just looks the way he always has.
"I could come with you and keep you company?"
Please say yes. Please prove me wrong. He laughs softly.
"No, I'll be fine. You get some rest; I'm just going to take a quick shower before I leave. I had a nightmare and it's left me a little sweaty."
You had a nightmare? Baby, you don't know the meaning of the word…Oh, hang on a moment. Was that a flash of guilt? It's brief, but I know I saw it. I wonder about his nightmare – could it be that it's the same as my reality? Now that would make for an interesting twist.
He eases me aside and leaves the room, his whole demeanor screaming awkwardness. It's so unlike him, he's usually so self-assured. Whatever the nightmare was, it's certainly unsettled him.
He's only been gone for a moment when he's back.
"Have you seen my phone? I can't find it."
"Yeah, I have it here." I cross to the table and pick it up. His eyes dart from the handset to my face a couple of times.
"Did…" His voice cracks and he has to clear his throat. "Did anyone call?" I deliberately hesitate a second longer than is normal, until I can see that he's somewhat shaken.
"I have no idea. I just switched it to silent and brought it down here so it wouldn't disturb you." He reaches out and takes it from me.
"Thanks." He pockets it as soon as I let go of it, but I know it will be out again with his fingers flying across the screen as soon as he's out of sight.
I stand there, wondering what to do next. It doesn't take me long to decide.
"Edward!" I yell up the stairs.
"I just need to step out, we're all out of Tylenol. I think I'll call in to see my dad while I'm out."
"Ok, Baby," he calls back. I shudder at his use of the term he also uses for her. "I'll most probably be late, so don't wait up." I narrow my eyes and shake my head at the top of the stairs, then I grab my jacket and purse and head out. As I close the door behind me, I know he's probably already on the phone to her.
I'm already heading out of town, when I suddenly realize there's no way he'll miss me in my truck. The thing embarrasses the hell out of him, but I refuse to let him upgrade me to something shinier; I have a strong affection for this hunk of junk. I look for a place to turn around. The next junction is the road that leads to Angela's house. I consider stopping by uninvited; talk about the ultimate cock-block. Deciding that it won't actually get me any more evidence, I continue on with my original plan and drive to another familiar house.
"Hey, Jess," I say to my friend when she answers the door.
"Bella! Are you OK? You look a little—"
"I'm alright," I reassure her. "Just tired. Hey, I hate to ask, but do you think I could borrow your car? I have an errand to run and the truck's making some strange noises. Edward's working late, or else I'd take the Volvo."
"Working late again? He's never home," she says, smiling. I return it weakly, as I wonder if she knows. If anyone knows. Am I the last to find out, I wonder? She looks at me and I look at her and I realize that this is definitely what's known as an awkward silence.
"So…uh…your car? Is it OK? I mean, if you need it, it's fine, I'll just—"
"No! No, sorry. Of course it's OK. I'll just get the keys." She disappears into one of the rooms off the hall, and Mike sticks his head out of the doorway of another.
"Oh! Hi, Bella."
"Hi, Mike. I'm just borrowing Jess's car," I explain. He laughs.
"The truck giving you trouble again?"
"Yeah, something like that." I manage a small smile, and mercifully Jess arrives back then, handing me the keys. "Thanks so much. I shouldn't be too long."
"No problem. I'll see you later."
As I sit in the parking lot of Sully's Burgers, I hope I haven't already missed him. I sit, watching and checking each and every car that passes, until finally I see his car. As it passes, I wait a moment to put a little distance between us, then I pull out onto the road behind him.
He drives for a while, but as he passes through Beaver (ha! Could he have picked a more aptly named location?) he pulls into a parking lot. He'll see me if I pull in behind him, so I drive on a little, glancing in my mirror in time to see Angela running across the lot and getting in his car. I pull in further down and wait for them to drive on, before continuing to tail them.
Forty minutes after leaving Forks, they pull off the 101 onto a dirt track next to Lake Crescent. I know for a fact that it isn't just a dirt track, but a picnicking area. It's bound to scare them off if I pull straight in behind them, but I'm sure if I wait a short while, they won't even notice me sneak in.
I do just that, pulling off the road and through the trees. I know that the road doesn't lead straight down, but snakes around dotted picnic tables, each with a parking space. I pull into the first one, pretty sure that they'll be as far from the road as they can get.
It takes me five minutes of following the road and taking short cuts where I can, grateful of the brightness of the moon casting a glow through the trees, until I finally find them. I linger beside a nearby tree, pretty sure they won't even think to be looking for someone out here, but keeping close to a source of cover just in case. I squint at the windows of his car, trying to make them out inside it, but all I can determine is that they are fogged up.
I prepare to move a little closer still, when the sudden gentle sliding sound of the electric window moving down, stops me in my tracks. A voice…her voice; breathy.
"Oh God, that's so much better. It was getting kinda hot in here." The innuendo in her voice is clear – as are the obvious sounds of kissing that follow it. I can hear everything now; the moans and groans, the sound of shifting bodies, whispers and lips on skin. Gradually the windows clear and I get a much better view than I'd expected. I'm not ready for it and I'm certainly not ready for the effect that it has on me.
My husband, the man who once promised to love, cherish and honor me, as well as all that other bullshit, hovers over my best friend in the half-reclined front passenger seat. He has both her wrists in one of his large hands, holding them above her head. He works his mouth roughly down her neck as she tilts her head back, allowing him full access to the flesh there. Down…down he continues, on the path allowed him by her open shirt, until he reaches her breasts. I watch as he uses his free hand to yank the cup of her bra down to expose her right breast. He's throwing off waves of base instinct, as he roughly takes her nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting, making her cry out, the sound a heady mix of pleasure and pain.
I'm transfixed. I feel ill at the betrayal, but a twisted part of my brain is intrigued by how different the man I'm watching is from the one I know. The one who worships my body in bed as though it's something fragile that can be broken.
"Oh God, Edward," Angela moans. "I want you so much, I can't wait any longer. Fuck me. Please."
I hear him growl – a motherfucking growl! I've never heard a sound like that emitting from his mouth before, and the sound hits me straight between the legs. I shift, trying to relieve the ache that has begun.
"I'm not sure I should. How do I know you're ready for me?" he asks her in a low, sultry voice, his mouth returning to her body.
"Touch me. Feel how wet I am for you," she gasps. He moves her roughly, and her foot appears at the window, her bare knee bent up as he finds access to what she's promising him.
"Shit," he hisses, and sits back quickly in his seat. Angela follows him, landing hungry kisses on his mouth. "Put your mouth on my cock," he begs her. "Make me wet too and then I'll fuck you."
Angela ducks down and he gasps loudly. I suddenly realize I'm digging my nails into the moss on the trunk of the tree. I loosen my grip and smooth my hands on my jeans. As I slide them back up my legs, I give in and slip my right hand between my legs, rubbing lightly in exactly the right place and trying hard not to make a sound. My eyelids flutter a little and I struggle to keep my eyes focused on the people in the car in front of me.
Edward is pushing Angela off him now and back down into her seat. He rips open a foil packet and I can imagine him rolling the condom expertly on. I've seen him do it plenty of times. He slides across onto her and her leg comes up again.
"What do you want, Baby?" he asks her. I cringe at his use of the term of endearment that he's always used for me, but then she's clawing at his back, and I'm engrossed again.
"I want you," she tells him.
"Oh, yeah?" he's bending to kiss her and then pulling back; teasing her. He always gives me everything I want. I wonder why.
"Yeah," she breathes.
"Any particular part of me?"
"Your amazing cock," she giggles. He gasps and then gives her what she asked for. There's no gentle build up. She wants it, he gives it to her. Hard. Again and again he slams into her, neither of them caring that they're somewhere where they could be caught. Where they have been caught. By me.
This should be my moment. If it's proof I was looking for, then I have it now without a doubt. A confrontation at this very moment could yield no denials. And yet…there's something about it that's heating me up; turning me on. This raw display of innate behavior playing out in front of me is fascinating and eye opening. Who knew it could be like this? No wonder he strayed if this is what he likes; we've never even come anywhere near this in our marital bed.
They're clinging to one another now, both grunting like some kind of animal, as they lose themselves in one of nature's most basic acts.
"Oh fuck! You feel so fucking good," Edward pants as he continues to drive himself inside her.
"You too," is all she manages to moan, before she's back to just making sounds again.
I squirm and I touch myself a little, and then I realize what I'm doing and I hate myself. My reaction can't be normal. I actually feel a little disgusted with myself. But then one of them will moan, groan, say something or move in a certain way, and I'm turned on again.
I know when the end is approaching. They're moving faster now and the sounds are louder and more frantic. Finally he cums, his body jerking as he empties himself. He collapses onto her for a moment and kisses her.
"You didn't cum," he says. He sounds disappointed.
"No," she sighs. "I was close though." She's stroking his hair.
"Don't worry, I won't take you home unsatisfied. Give me a moment and we'll go again. All about you this time, baby." They kiss.
Well at least one thing about him is consistent – he's a diligent lover.
I decide I've seen enough. I need to give myself chance to get home before him, and also collect my thoughts before I face him. There's something else bothering me too; an urge that I'm trying to block out. I don't think I can stand how much worse this particular urge will get if I have to watch them fucking some more.
I find Jessica's car again easily enough and drive it back to town, replaying everything I just watched in my head. My heart thumps in my chest and my body is flooded with adrenaline. I still can't calm my thoughts long enough for my emotions to settle and the tears to come. What's wrong with me? Why can't my reactions just be normal? I wonder what normal actually is in these situations.
I drop the car back, thank Jess, laugh off her comments about looking flustered, and roar home in my truck.
As I walk into our home, I'm struck by how everything still looks the same. Maybe I imagined it all? If only. I head straight upstairs and into our bedroom. I undress and go to the bathroom to prepare for bed. After five more minutes of physical normality combined with mental turmoil, I'm finally ready to slip beneath the sheets.
I lie there waiting and begging for sleep to claim me. It doesn't come. Instead I'm bombarded with visions from my psyche; replays of the scene I watched earlier. The more I think about it, the more difficult it is to deny the feeling building at my core. Once I've accepted it, I attempt to ignore it. My body thwarts me yet again.
I start to wonder what it would be to have that kind of sex with Edward. I can't forget the rawness of what they did. As it replays in my mind once again, I let my hand travel down my body, ghosting over my breasts as they stand proud beneath my tank top. As I reach my pajama shorts, I let my fingers push below the elastic of the waist, and travel down to the place that has been longing for my touch. As I slide a finger between my lips, the sudden slickness I find there causes me to take a sharp intake of breath. I spread my legs wider, opening myself up to my own fingers. I push ever so slightly with two fingers, and they slide inside. I explore a little as I imagine how Edward's mouth looked on Angela's body. I stroke here and I circle there, soft moans escaping my lips as I touch myself in exactly the way my body craves.
As the action in my head builds, I want more. Pausing, I roll over and pull open the drawer in my nightstand. I pull out my vibrator but leave the bottle of lube. There's no way I need that tonight.
I turn it on, the vibrations causing my hands to tingle as I position it ready. This time though, instead of sliding it home gently as I usually would, I imitate Edward's fucking action as I watch it in my head, pushing it roughly in and out of myself, my hips bucking in time and thrusting to meet the vibe on its way back in. It feels fucking amazing and I wonder why I've never done it this way before.
In my mind I'm not a voyeur; I'm the one on the receiving end of Edward's cock as he slams it in and out of my pussy, treating me with the kind of consensual sexual force that I've seen he's capable of.
It's only a matter of minutes later that I feel the sensations building. I panic a little because I can tell that it's going to be powerful to the point of being unbearable, but there's nothing that's going to stop me claiming my release now. Keeping the rhythm going as I brace myself, I finally feel the waves of my climax beginning to build, gently at first, but growing ever larger and stronger. I cry out loudly, unable to stop myself, as my muscles clench violently around the toy, my face screws up and my toes curl. I've never come so hard in my life, and it seems to take an age for the waves to ebb completely away.
My muscles all relax at once, and I flop back, stretched out on the bed. My breathing is labored and I still can't open my eyes, I'm so spent. Suddenly it's as though the physical release has also shifted whatever mental blockage my brain had put into place. The scenes flicker through my head again, but this time I see nothing erotic about it, just the deceit and betrayal by two of the people I loved and trusted the most in the whole world. I feel disgusted with myself at what I've just done, turning as much anger inwards onto myself, as I project outwards onto the two of them.
My breathing hasn't even returned to normal when it begins to falter and hitch in my throat. The next thing I know, I'm on my side, my whole body wracking with violent sobs as the tears finally pour from my eyes. What right did he think he had to do this to me? To our marriage? I was happy, damn him. I hadn't wanted our union to end, how dare he force this onto me?
I lay like this for a while. It could have been five minutes, it could have been two hours, I have no idea; but then I hear the front door opening and closing. I'm exhausted from the crying, but I move enough to yank the covers up around my head, and shove my vibe under the pillow for now.
He's coming softly up the stairs now, and in through the bedroom door. He closes it behind himself and heads straight for the bathroom, where I hear the shower start up. Of course he needs a shower, even though he had one just before he left; he has to scrub all traces of her from his skin.
I listen to the sounds from the bathroom as the water stops, and then he's cleaning his teeth. I hear the lid go on the laundry basket, and realize that I'd wondered why he'd suddenly stopped leaving his dirty clothes lying around.
The bathroom light clicks off and our bedroom is in darkness as I hear him padding over the carpet, before the bed dips with his weight as he climbs in. He rolls over to me and puts his hand on my arm as he stretches up to kiss the top of my head. The move infuriates me, and I feel my hands clenching involuntarily into fists. What to do? Can I do this? Should I save it? I'm not going to sleep anyway, I know that much.
Speak or feign sleep?...Speak or feign sleep?...Speak or feign sleep?
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.