One of my favorite authors on this site is misterstan, mostly for how he is able to show the relative powerlessness inherent in some relationships. In the stories he published here, the female characters tend to be on the mean side. Lately, however, he's been writing amazing stories under the name Ben Boswell on that giant corporate site that sells everything. This story is derived from a short story that he recently published there. In his tale, the husband and wife ended up happy. It made me think what would happen if life wasn't so rosy.
I'm not sure if this story is done or not. There is no resolution to the conflict, so it's classic short story in that regard, and I do have a vision in mind about how it should proceed. I'm just not sure.
Anyway, first time publishing and I have no editor. Am I just asking for abuse?
"Oh, come on," Grant teased. "You've been here all night. Rob won't care about ten more minutes." He lazily stroked his cock as he leered at me. And I began to wilt, as he knew I would.
"Besides," he said as he closed the distance between us, "knowing Laurie, she's got him lying flat on her bed right now, fucking the shit out of him."
"She does get wild, doesn't she?" I sniggered.
"Wild? That girl's a freak," Grant growled as he gently pulled my head down to his now fully hard cock.
It was a thing of beauty. Long, thin, blacker than the rest of his skin, and veiny. I grabbed it by the base and just breathed on tip, enjoying feeling naughty. As I started to stroke him with two hands, I heard Grant suck his breath in and throw his head up, eyes squinted.
"Enjoying yourself?" I teased.
"Mm hmm," Grant breathed, looking back down and smiling at me.
It hit me then. Here I am, naked in a summer house in Wellfleet, jacking off my college booty call while my husband is two doors down fucking Laurie. Grant wasn't kidding about her being a freak. I can still remember watching her wear out those two lacrosse meatheads freshman year. They must have cum about three times each, and Laurie just kept screaming for more. When they couldn't get it up any more, she unceremoniously opened our dormroom door and told them that she had an early class. As soon as she shut the door, she turned to my bed and smirked, "How was the show?"
Grant broke me out of my reverie by lightly smacking me across the cheek with his dick.
"You reliving last night, Cor?" he chuckled.
"As if, asshole. I'm just wondering what I'm going to get out of giving you a morning hummer.
Grant just burst out laughing. "Oh come on, Cor. This is me you're talking to. You love sucking dick. How many times did you come by playing with yourself while you sucked on this big thing?" he teased, as he smacked me again with it, a little more forcibly this time.
I grabbed hold of it again with two hands. It was beautiful. "I don't know, Grant. Maybe the magic is gone now that I'm married to one of your best friends."
Grant took hold of my head with both hands and moved me slowly over to the tip. "We'll have to make new magic then," he growled.
"Mmm," I responded as I slowly started to go down on him. Naturally, one of my hands found its way down to my well used clit.
***
Fifteen minutes later, I found myself examining my naked body in the hall closet mirror. I noted the hicky with dismay and got especially worried when I saw that my ass was a little red from when Grant smacked it last night. Oh well, I sighed. I'd have to smooth this out with Rob. Besides, I'm sure that Laurie left plenty of marks on him, so he'd be in no position to complain.
As I walked past the cheap mismatched rental house furniture to our room, I started to think back to last night. My ass was still a little sore from when Grant fucked it. More than anything, that was what I had been wanting since the six of us decided on this impromptu college reunion. I wanted Grant to take me . . . to feel completely in his power. The feeling of giving myself to him completely, and trusting that Grant would use me but keep me safe. I mean, Grant's a jackass - way too full of himself to ever be marriage material, but that narcissism sure came in handy in the bedroom. He started slow and gentle, but everything was about his need, about how he needed my body. By the end, he was just a machine.
Breathe, I told myself as I approached our door. Rob will need a lot of love and reassuring right now. He needed to know that last night was a one-off, or maybe a once in a while off, that Grant really did nothing else for me. He needed to know that we were still good.
Right as I turned the handle, I realized that I hadn't washed Grant's cum out of my mouth. Fuck! I couldn't turn back now. Taking one last breath, I opened the door and found -
An empty room? The bed was still immaculate from when Rob made it yesterday morning. Panic started to creep in as noticed a couple of drawers left open. Rob's clothes, meticulously refolded and put into drawers with a surgeon's care as soon as we got here two days ago, were all gone. My stomach lurched again when I saw that his phone and wallet were missing from the bedside table.
I ran over to Laurie's room and burst in without knocking. She was asleep on one side of the queen bed, the other side pristine and definitely not slept in. I almost tripped over an empty bottle of wine as ran to her bedside and shook here awake.
"Fuck! What?" Laurie's body responded groggily as recognition started to dawn on her. "Oh, Cori. Shit, what time is it?"
"I don't know. Morning," I screamed. "What happened last night? Where's Rob?"
My yelling brought the others into the room. Grant, shirtless, wearing a pair of jogging shorts, John, doing the button on last night's shorts, also shirtless, and Audrey, with John's t-shirt on.
"Fuck, Cori, stop yelling!" Laurie pleaded, screwing her eyes shut. "I am so fucking hung over right now. The room won't stop spinning."
Audrey came over to me, concern all over her face.
I was starting to get hysterical, but I took as deep breath and tried to calm myself before turning back to Laurie. She had pulled the sheet over her head and was trying to cover her ears with her hand.
"Laurie," I soothed, "you have to listen to me. I know you're hurting right now but I need to know where Rob is."
"He left," she mumbled from under the sheet.
I felt an ice tendril in my chest. Left? As in left me? As in getting a divorce?
I pushed everything down and tried again with Laurie.
"What do you mean, hon? You were going to sleep with him last night, remember?
"He didn't want it," she said with twinge of anger.
"What?"
"I had my tits in his face and his cock in my hand and the fucker said that he didn't want to do it, ok?" Laurie exclaimed, throwing the sheet off and looking at me. The light in the room and the movement made her wince in pain and she turned back away immediately, groaning.
"I - "
"I followed him into the house," she went on, from underneath the covers again. "He was at Grant's door staring in. I guess you too were so hot and bothered that you didn't have time to shut it. I looked over his shoulder and saw Grant eating your ass out. I reached around him and tried to jack him off but he was completely limp. When Grant started to put his dick your ass Rob pulled my hand off and walked back to your room."
"Laurie, that was eight hours ago!"
She continued as if I hadn't said a thing.
"When I got to your room, he was already throwing his clothes into his bag. I told him to calm down, that we would just go over and get you. He grabbed my arm, hard." Laurie involuntarily grabbed her arm as she said this. I noticed the vague outlines of a handprint there. The ice tendrils began to grow larger in my chest. "The fucker said that if I interrupted you, he would tell Steve that I fuck around."
Steve, her fiancé. Of course, Rob was such a boy scout that he wouldn't want to hurt him, regardless of what Laurie wanted.
I was starting to get hysterical again.
"But why didn't you come in and get me as soon as he left?"
There was an edge to Laurie's voice again. "Fuck him - I threw myself at him and all he could do was cry."
"He was crying? When?"
"When he was looking at you and Grant. I'm trying to jack him off and the fucker's crying," she said, bitterness evident.
Oh god, I cried as I ran back to our room and grabbed my cell off its charging cord.
Answer, please answer, I pleaded into the phone, but all I got was Rob's familiar message.
"Rob, honey," I blubbered. "It's Cori. Where are you? Please call me as soon as you hear this."
I followed up with a text and collapsed onto my bed.
Ten minutes passed and I called again. And again five minutes later. I started to see horrible images of Rob's car wrapped around some tree. Wait, maybe he didn't take the car. I ran past John, Audrey, and Grant, who were busy cleaning up the bottles and Solo cups from last night. Oh god, Rob hardly ever drinks but he did last night. He did it to be social - for me. He even took a couple of hits off the roach that we passed around.
He had that look of surprise as I passed him the clip. The look morphed into one of exasperation as he took it from me, took a long hit, and began coughing. As the others sniggered, he looked back at me, smiling, and just shrugged.
I threw open the front door and my heart sank when I saw the empty spot in the driveway where our car was. As I leaned against the door jamb in exhaustion and despair, Audrey came over and gently led me back to my room.
"Let's get some clothes on you, honey, and then we can figure this out."
I woodenly complied and came back out and collapsed onto one of the awful sticky white rattan couches and just started sobbing. It started to hit me that my husband just left me, that my marriage could be over.
"He loves you, Cori," John softly said. "He just needs a little time, that's all."
"We drank a lot last night. I don't know where he is . . . if he's safe . . . if he got into a -"
The horror of that thought made nauseous. I ran to the bathroom and lost whatever was in my stomach. Again, Audrey helped clean me up and led me back to the living room, where she gave me a cool wet towel for my forehead.
"Shit," Grant said. "What the hell is wrong with him? Laurie would have given him one of the best nights in his life."
He saw the look of horror and disgust on my face and murmured a "no offense" and went silent again.
John suddenly got up and got on his cell. I heard him leave a message on Rob's phone.
Five minutes later, we heard a ping on John's phone, which he had thrown on the glass coffee table.
We all stared at it for a second before John grabbed it and read the text. His face was inscrutable for a few seconds before he turned to me.
"Well, he's fine," John said very slowly.
"What do you mean fine," I yelled. "Where is he?"
"Home. He's home."
I grabbed the phone from him and read the text still on the screen. HOME SAFE. TELL CORI TO HAVE A GREAT REST OF THE WEEK WITH GRANT.
Home? It's a six hour drive back home to Albany. I tried calling again but all I got was the recording. I called our home number and got the recording there as well.
"Whatcha going to do, Cor," Grant asked.
"What do you mean, what am I going to do? I'm going to go to my husband."
