Rich was putting away the last of the dishes. Wednesday night. Another night when he and the kids ate dinner without Marie.
"I'm going to bed kids," he called into the living room. A muffled chorus responded that it was ok.
As the house began to darken, Rich brushed his teeth, studying himself in the mirror. Had he aged, or was he imagining that he had? The past few months he had been deprived of Marie's company while Tim dumped his load into her. Sure, it was a "noble cause" - helping their friends to have a second child, but it was taking its toll on him. He unceremoniously spit foamy toothpaste into the sink. Leslie's company never quite made up for the empty feeling he seemed to perpetually carry around. Rich was sure his work was suffering as well. To top it off, the holidays were rushing onward like a freight train in the night. Marie had become the decorating type in the past few years while he felt relegated to the Grinch cave. "All I need is a dog with a stupid set of antlers," Rich mused; it was almost funny.
"Wipe your mouth, turn off the lights, crawl into bed," he thought. A quick search brought the plastic remote to his hand. Rich flicked on the TV, the blue glow filled the room with its cold light. He dozed fitfully. The zombie movie or Mayan apocalypse invading his dreams just enough to prevent him from falling into a deeper slumber, yet not enough to cause him to awaken and vanquish it with the power button. He became aware of a zombie gaining ground on him grasping at him trying to pull him to the ground. Rich awoke with a start. Slowly the grey turned to light as he realized that Marie had made it home and was laying next to him in their marital bed.
"Hi honey, gotta pee," he rolled himself out of bed to flick on the light in the bathroom. His piss splashed and echoed in the tiny room. She was home. Although Rich was not shy about peeing in front of Marie, he had closed the door. He felt it gave him the tiniest amount of privacy, the door becoming the incarnation of their emotional boundary widened with each passing week. A half night's sleep looked worse on his face than the weight of a full day of distracted work. Rich slowly washed his hands, dragging out the moment when he would return to his chaste bed – at least as far as sex with Marie was concerned. He gave himself a half-hearted smile, telling himself that this wouldn't be forever. Soon Marie would be pregnant and the additional nine months of celibacy would come to an end. He would no longer have the pleasure of Leslie's company, nor would he need it. Rich smiled a little more with the thought of being wrapped into Marie's welcoming arms again. Of course, that was down the road.
He flicked the light and walked the short distance back to their bed. Curiously, Marie was still dressed. Even curiouser, the light was still on. Rich looked at her inquisitively, but figured it was merely an oversight, that she was tired and just hadn't gotten the energy up to changing to her pajamas. "Plus you were hogging the bathroom, idiot," he told himself.
But Marie had a different look, a tiny glint in her eye. She moved so she was sitting at the edge of their bed. Her gaze became intense, "Rich," a single word escaped her lips. The sound of his own name puzzled him.
Rich was intent on climbing back into bed and falling back asleep. She was home, done with the weekly "deed". He paused when she spoke when she spoke his name. Her light skirt fell around her knees, she had already kicked off her shoes. Marie played with the buttons on her blouse opening the top ever so slightly. He was stopped dead in his tracks. "What is she up to?" he wondered. His analytical mind told him there was nothing at all up. But she was playing with those buttons. Slowly, almost tauntingly. Her left hand fell along her thigh and looked to be pulling up her skirt in small pinches of fabric. Yes, quarter inch by quarter inch her thigh became more exposed as Rich just stood watching.
"Marie," he started. She shook her head - demanding silence in that single action. His mouth closed, his body still in a peculiar state of paralysis. The skirt made its way past mid-thigh. She was pulling it up. "Really?" his subconscious yelled at him, "she's just been out fucking Tim and she's playing games?" Again he tried to vocalize her name. The curve of her ass on the bed came into view. Rich's internal struggle with his own soul made his pulse pound in his head. Rage fought with desire as his penis nudged his pajama pants. In a final swift movement Marie brought her skirt above her waist as she spread her thighs, pulling her pussy lips apart. She was glistening. Cloudy white semen trickled out of her as a tiny stream made its way down the crack of her ass. Rich's anger gained the upper hand – pushing his erection away.
Like a car wreck, Rich's eyes could not turn away from his wife's nakedness. Marie inserted a finger into her dripping love canal – baby canal, his subconscious reminded him, for Tim and Leslie's baby. "Rich, it's been so long," she breathed at him, "it's just not the same."
"You're telling me!" his mind screamed. He was mesmerized as she added another finger, drawing sticky, slippery cum from within her to slide over her clit. Her eyes rolled back as a moan took over her body. The internal battle Rich engaged in was now being lost to his arousal. His cock rose with each thumping beat of his heart until it strained against his inadequate PJ bottoms. Another man's semen filled his wife, seeking her womb and the egg it held. But she was rubbing it over her clit, her fingers beginning a more furious tempo – not fully on fire, but close. Animalistic desire began to overtake him. Blood rushed to his engorged organ, sapping his brain of essential oxygen. Rich realized which head was in charge now. In the war that was his body, the battle tide shifted to the littlest general. He dropped his PJs and stood before her. She smelled heavily of sex: pussy juice, sweat and spunk. As he stepped closer, ready to plunge his throbbing cock into her soaking wet pussy, Marie placed a hand on his chest, holding him back.
"Wait," she taunted him. Her fingers slipped even deeper into her snatch. Marie removed her fingers and traced a new glistening trail around her tiny sphincter before sliding just the tip into her forbidden cavity. She reached toward him now, touching the head of his penis lightly. Rich watched as she began lubing his lonely cock with sperm. Her touch was electric. Tim's cum repulsed and excited him at the same time being rubbed onto him as it was with her gentle hand, his penis bouncing with each consecutive beat of his heart. Rich leaned forward into her body but again she held him back. Marie aimed his love arrow downward to the bullseye of her tiny tight ass muscle. His cock stiffened in response. "Now lover, you can't contaminate the 'deposit'. You have to be content with my ass."
"Content? Content!?" his mind screamed at him. "How often do you get to fuck the pretty little ass?" Rich was more than content as he felt the electricity shoot down the length of his love rod, his balls tingled in excitement and his own sphincter twitched in anticipation. Only moments before he had felt rage and abandonment. Now with the throbbing head of his cock resting at the tiny opening poised to invade her bowels those feelings began to melt away. The surge of testosterone that flooded his body begged him to spear his treacherous wife, to rip open the flesh of her tiny, tight back door. To reclaim that slutty body. Rich paused his forward momentum, the tip of his penis slowly peeling back the outer muscle. Slippery cum covered the head and still slowly oozed from her full pussy. Rage and desire quivered through him as he slowly began to push his impossibly hard dick forward. Her anus opened to swallow the head, the ridge and slowly the shaft of his rigid cock. Rich watched as his cock eagerly stretched the tiny ring of muscle, thrust the floor of her vagina from below and pushed more of Tim's cum out of her love tunnel to dribble over them, still lubing his cock as it slowly entered her.
