Decisions 21

I'd like to thank sbrooks103x for doing such a stellar job on editing this story.

I'd like to thank you all for reading this, whether you like it or hate it. I'd equally appreciate your feedback.

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His hands caressed her lithe frame as their bodies intertwined together in the age-old mating dance. The dimly lit room was filled with the smell and noise of blissful sex.

She writhed under him; her words leaving her mouth, only sounding out as unintelligible cries of passion. Her nails dug ferociously in his back, as if she was trying to assimilate him, become one with...

His mouth sucked hard on her puffy nipples with matching eagerness, as he pumped himself in and out of her wet, loving and hungry channel.

It wasn't long before her second orgasm for the night tore through her wildly shaking body.

He did not care as he started thrusting harder and with more vigour. He did not stop even when her walls tightened even more around him. He was focused on his own approaching release. Like a man possessed, he worked towards it.

A few seconds later he came inside her, unloading his release and his day's frustrations as he did. He kept pumping until he felt himself go soft.

This wasn't an act of making love. It was pure, unadulterated fucking.

He turned to lie on his side of the bed as he tried to catch his breath.

She turned to him and wrapped a dainty arm around him and gave him a loving, satisfied smile. Parting his dark, sweat-matted hair from his forehead, she asked, "Are you going?" She tried to keep her voice neutral, but couldn't control the slight bitterness from seeping through. She already knew the answer.

He looked straight in her eyes. His face betrayed no emotion. "Sorry. Wife gets mad if I stay out too late."

-----

She was sitting on the sofa waiting for him when he entered the house. Her hands were folded as she stared at him. Her gaze was questioning, burning with fury and most of all, it was judging.

"My sister?" she asked, no, spoke in a clipped tone. "I expected better of you, Steve," she said. Her voice went up a bit as her blue eyes tried to burn holes into him.

He sighed. His tired eyes didn't quite match the intensity of hers, but they didn't back down, either.

"Um... so you found out?" he asked without too much enthusiasm. "Well, whatever." Shrugging his shoulders, he went upstairs to the bedroom. He really needed a shower.

She just sat there blinking, as her brain tried and failed to process what just happened.

Getting on her feet after a couple of minutes, she went upstairs. She needed to confront her husband. She needed to lay it out for him. She just needed him to return to his former self. Oh, she would have that! Her eyes burned with quiet resolve.

He took his dear time showering, washing away the sweat, the smell of sex. It stung when the warm water hit his back. He smiled dryly as he thought, 'She isn't gonna be happy when she sees those marks.'

As he exited the shower and wiped himself dry, his mind wandered places. He thought about how his life had been a few months ago, and realised the stark contrast between his past and the present. He momentarily smiled, until it turned into a sneer.

He shook off his stray thoughts and entered the bedroom.

There on their bed was his wife. It wasn't anything unusual, except she was wearing the black teddy she'd bought for their anniversary seven months ago.

Oh, and she was giving him the best "come hither" look she could muster.

For his part, he just stood there as he took in the view. His face was a mask of indifference. Until a few months ago, he would have taken a bullet for the blue-eyed, blonde-haired beauty that was his wife. Now, his thoughts bordered on strangling the life out of her. If it had been his past self, he'd have jumped her the moment he laid eyes upon the beauty on his bed. Now, he just couldn't; he showed no signs of arousal, and definitely no signs of interest. He had expected to be enraged, but all he felt was an empty ache inside.

She waited. She expected him to come to their bed in an instant and take her with wild abandon. She knew she had that effect on him.

But it didn't seem to be the case now. Her sensual smile turned into a frown as he made no move and just stared at her with an unreadable look.

"I'm... really tired tonight. Would you mind...?" He discarded the towel and let her have a look at his body which was firm and lean from rigorous hours of working out. He didn't bother to put anything on and just slipped under the covers, turning his back towards her.

The silent anger and the hurt she initially felt at being rebuffed, had quickly morphed into a dull heartache as he slept quietly with his back turned towards her. She gritted her teeth as she saw the marks on his back. It took everything she had to not outright scream as she realised exactly who had given those to him.

Although a part of her just wanted to grab his flaccid shaft until it hardened and ride him to exhaustion, she just couldn't. Not after what she had seen. She had thought of talking to him, sorting out their differences. But now, the will had left her.

She cried herself to sleep. Lamenting the drastic change in her husband and vowing to fix it. Wondering how two people so close, could be so far apart. She couldn't see the bitter smile on his face, as he heard her sniffle.

-----

Morning brought yet another surprise with it. He found it strange when he woke up and found her side of the bed vacant. Usually, it was the other way around.

But that just had been the start; a teaser.

As he finished his morning rituals and had gotten ready for the day, he hadn't seen any signs of her entering their bedroom.

When he did find her, he had been more than surprised. There she was, sitting at the kitchen table, without a single piece of clothing on.

She caught his gaze with her own as she lightly munched on a piece of toast, smeared with more than enough blueberry jam, her favourite. Some of which had gotten on her breasts, he noted idly. Her eyes not leaving his, she made a show out of swiping the bit of the fallen spread from her breasts and licked it off her fingers, slowly and sensually.

He was ashamed by the fact that his first thought upon witnessing the vision in front of him, had been one of suspicion. He hadn't been aroused; he just wondered what she was playing at.

She sashayed over to him. Her smile widened at the look of stunned surprise on his face. Her eyes never left his.

She draped an arm over his shoulder and brought her free hand over to his mouth, gently nudging his lips with a browned piece of bread.

Without wasting a second, he took a bite of the offering. Their eyes never left each other, as if silently speaking to one another; conveying what had been on their minds.

He swallowed the last bite and before he could ask her what exactly bought this on, his mouth was engulfed by a hungry pair of lips and a tongue trying to explore every nook and cranny of it.

He responded with equal enthusiasm and his own tongue fought a battle for dominance with hers. A part of him noted with a tinge of sadness that the kiss was not a loving, tender one; the kind he yearned for. Rather, it had been a hungry, passionate and lustful kiss. Still, he responded.

She rejoiced when she felt his strong arms embrace her and pull her closer to him. Her joy escalated as she felt his cock respond to her. She lost the fight and let his tongue hungrily invade her; she was just content with being in his arms. A part of her wanted this moment to last further and to escalate beyond just an oral cavity check-up. But she had a plan to follow.

Reluctantly, she separated from him. Giving him a small smile, she chided, "Hurry up, love. Else you'll be late." She leaned in closer and whispered huskily into his ear, "Besides... we'll do a

lot

more later."

Her smile disappeared momentarily as she got a hard look in her eyes. "We need to talk when you're back," she said and turned her back from him and climbed the stairs to their bedroom, after he had nodded his acceptance.

As he had watched her shapely rear disappear around the corner, he smiled to himself. It did not take a genius to know what she was playing at and he was glad she said those seven words.

It was time to put an end to this charade.

With that thought in mind, he took his leave.

-----

She had been sitting there, on the sofa, when he returned home.

He was greeted with a bright smile and a small peck, as he handed her the bouquet of flowers.

"Why, thank you, dear husband," she said and gave him a loving kiss on the lips. Her blue eyes shone with joy. Admiring the flowers, she spoke, "Roses and..."

"Red dahlias; nothing too special," he said with a smile.

"I'll put them in a vase." She turned away from him and as she did, her smile vanished, only to be replaced by a slight frown. Her husband was in a good mood; a stark difference from last night. To her, this was unnerving. She knew how much he had changed over the past few months and his loving gestures now, made it all the more alarming. She teared up slightly as she realised the hidden message he was sending through the flowers.

While his wife was busy arranging the flowers, he went to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. He pulled a chair and sat at the dining room table, patiently waiting for her to come and start with what she had in mind.

It wasn't long before he found her eyes, hard and unyielding, focused on him, as she sat in front of him.

"Steve... I'm tired," she started. Her voice held a resigned, pleading tone, masked by her efforts to appear as commanding as possible. "Let's stop this foolishness; let's go back to being the loving couple we were."

He smiled inwardly. "What do you mean, Lydia? I don't understand," he asked in mock confusion. His wife still had enough pride not to accept defeat out loud. She fumed. Not the least bit interested in his games, she just sighed and continued, "Please, honey... just... just stop."

He frowned. After all he'd been through, he couldn't bear to see her anguish. After all she'd done to him, he couldn't completely finish off his love for her.

"Why." It wasn't a question; he already knew the answer. "Why should I stop? After all, wasn't it you who suggested open marriage in the first place?" He spoke the two words he hated with as much venom as he could muster. "Surely, you don't think it was a bad decision on your part, do you?"

Suddenly, she couldn't meet his gaze. His rage, his hurt, it was all evident in those eyes. But, it was now or never; she couldn't let her guilt get the better of her.

He had to compliment her effort. When she had made eye contact with him again, she did so without flinching.

"I know, alright!" she stated as tears pooled in her eyes.

He looked at her quizzically. "So, you want me to stop, Lydia? Why should I, just because you don't seem to like it?" His emotions were getting the better of him. He needed to stop before he blew up. "You should be happy; after all, it was you who pushed me so far," he added in a much calmer voice.

She stared at him with open hurt. His words really stung and a part of her knew why they did; because they weren't false. Then, she couldn't control herself anymore.

"I know I've made a mistake, okay!" she almost screamed at him. "You've already isolated me from my parents! You've slept with all my single girlfriends and the married ones have cut off all ties with me because their husbands don't trust you with them! They said I'm a bad influence on their wives!" As an afterthought, she bitterly added, "From last night, it seems you've successfully taken my little sister away from me, too. What more do you want?!"

He saw the tears cascade down her rosy cheeks, but didn't even bother to offer her a handkerchief. In fact, he wanted her to cry; it was only fair.

He chuckled to himself after hearing about her so-called friends. "It's hilarious; those were the same men who criticised me of not being 'man enough' to trust my wife going wherever she pleased, on her own, even when many of them knew about your affair with that Freddy guy!" He was holding his sides as if someone had cracked some really inappropriate joke. "Even when they knew I suspected you had an affair, all those months ago." He shook his head at the irony. "Now, they think

I'm

not trustworthy? Oh, you have to admit it, Lydia. it's more than hilarious! Some men they are!" He took a swig of the beer, as he controlled himself. "Guess, that's how people are; they don't understand or care about the situation with the other guy, until it happens to them."

She winced as he reminded her of her first affair. He had the right to be enraged at her friends and their husbands; after all, it was she who had told her girlfriends not to warn Steve about anything. What frightened her was, she didn't detect any vehemence or resentment in his tone as he talked about them.

"Honey," he began. He was calm as he looked at her. "It's not what I want; it's what you want. It's always been about you, remember?" His eyes radiated sadness. "You wanted a big house with your dad's money? You got it, even though I asked you to wait for a while, so I could buy a home for us with my own money. You wanted to disregard our marriage vows and have an affair with some guy? You got it, until I caught you. You didn't want a divorce and kept asking for a second chance, quite insincerely, no? You got that, too." He did not raise his voice, even a bit. The look in his eyes conveyed more than enough of what he felt. "After I caught you having another affair with a colleague of mine, you didn't want a divorce. Instead, you suggested... no, you threatened me to accept an open marriage, or else you'd have ruined my life with daddy's connections, remember? Again, you got what you wanted... and let's face it, you opted for an open marriage instead of having me completely cuckolded, only because you had so much faith in me." He took another sip of the beer; his voice cracked as he tried to keep himself together. "Do the words, 'He couldn't land any other woman even if he tried to,' ring any bells?"

She looked at him in shame, more than shock. Those words... she had told those to her friends when they'd prodded her for information on her setup and warned her that the plan might backfire. "Steve..."

"What had I done to deserve all of that?" he asked, more to himself, than to her. He looked solemnly at the ceiling; partly, to stop his tears from falling, and partly, to lament his fate. Was there a God in this world? He had always wondered.

She saw the hurt in those eyes. She heard how weak and vulnerable he sounded... and she had only herself to blame for that. She wanted to rush to his side and embrace him tightly, never to let him go. Instead, she settled on reaching for him across the table and holding his hands with her own.

She looked at him. Her eyes tried to silently assure him. Seeing the pain in those eyes tore her from the inside. "Honey... baby... you did nothing wrong; it was all my fault," she admitted. "You... you were always working and I was lonely..."

He let out a bitter laugh at that. Looking at her with an unreadable expression, he spoke, "Do you still need to lie to me? After all that has happened?" He removed his hands from her grip and gave her an unamused look. "Please, none of those clichés. You and I both know that's bull. It's about time you tell me the truth."

She shrunk under his glare. She knew he was onto her. She knew he deserved the truth.

"It was... was..." She had trouble getting it out. At that point, her hands seemed really fascinating to her.

"Was what, Lydia?" He prodded. "I'm going to meet Julie, if you're done wasting my time."

"Wait!" She glared at him, which turned into a look of helplessness. "I did it... because l was angry at you."

He did not speak a word. His silence urged her to continue.

"I was angry at you, jealous of you." She couldn't meet his eyes as she spoke. Her hands, on her lap, clenched into fists. "I was happy... when we started dating; I was the luckiest woman in the world when we got married." She smiled a bit at their happier memories. "Still, a part of me had always felt the revulsion... this bitterness towards you." Her voice had an undertone of repressed anger and it surprised him. "I was daddy's little girl; someone who never had to work for anything in life. I knew what everyone thought of me! I heard what my so-called

friends

used to say behind my back!" Her words dripped with venom and then, she looked straight at him. Her eyes were full rage and hatred. Or, at least, they seemed to be, as he could see the hurt and the helpless girl hidden behind that mask of contempt. "It got worse after I married mister self-righteous, mister goody-goody, over here!" He didn't flinch at the look of hatred he received. He sure was surprised at the revelation, though. "Even mom and dad! The two people who hadn't ever criticised me in my whole life, had suddenly turned into different people! They were... judgmental... disapproving of my lifestyle." A quiet sob escaped from her lips. "You! You were the sole breadwinner for our house and to everyone, you just couldn't do any wrong! Anything I asked for, you made it happen! Never did you forbid or keep me from anything! You don't even know how I felt! How everyone used to gush about what a wonderful husband I had, and how lucky I was to have you!" A lone tear trickled down her cheek.

"I saw the hidden remarks and the scornful looks! Knowing they were indirectly telling me how I was an ungrateful and undeserving bitch, made me feel even more hatred towards everyone and most of all, you!"

For the first time in many months, her gaze hurt. He knew that was because she was telling the truth; something she had not done in a long time. Seeing her like this, he realised: for all her pride and airs, she was still a weak little girl... and her self-esteem had plummeted a lot after marrying him.

That last line of thought stung, he admitted.

She wasn't done with her tirade. "That's why I decided to have an affair; and soon after I met Freddy." He was surprised at her tone. He had expected her to gush about her lover, but all he heard was a voice filled with regret. "He was so very different from you; impulsive, rash and bold. At first, I was attracted to him, but after I had been with him, the novelty wore off; he just wasn't right. He wasn't you!" This time, she gave him a look that was part hate and part love. "It wasn't long before you caught us... and I half expected you to blow up! But, no! You couldn't even manage that! You just silently asked for a divorce! You didn't even seem to be a bit angry!" She looked at him as if there was something wrong with him. After being caught and forgiven the first time, she had felt like a loser. She had felt as if he had mocked her, insulted her by accepting her back.

"I wasn't done with you, though; I wanted you to break! To show everyone that you're just a weak man!" She wiped another tear with the back of her hand. "Then, I met Jean; the guy who worked with you." She cleared her throat and tried to compose herself. "He was a gentleman. At least, everywhere but in the bedroom. I liked the wild sex for the first few times, then I started hating it." She got a faraway look in her eyes. "He treated me as an object, a piece of meat, rather than a person. I yearned for my husband's soft, loving touch. I missed how his warm body felt on mine; I missed how his soft lips felt on mine," she said as she choked back a quiet sob. Her eyes came to focus on him. "You caught me again... and then, I saw the hurt in your eyes; the betrayal you must have felt after catching your wife with a colleague." She took a deep breath. "A part of me was celebrating that I had finally gotten through to you, that I had... proven you weren't infallible." Now that she was admitting it all, she realised how warped her actions and thoughts sounded. She wanted to openly cry, but she couldn't. Not until she had said it all.