A very dark love story:
"So many machines," Patty thought, as she closed the door behind her. The digital gauges on the bank of monitors mounted behind her husband's bed displayed an array of numbers and graphs, signaling every infinitesimal change to Brian's blood pressure, oxygen level and breathing rate. The up and down movement of the electrocardiogram display reassuringly showed that his heartbeat was steady. Patty saw the jumble of monitors as a reflection of the enormous, hopeless effort that was being made to stave off the inevitable. Her husband, as everybody knew, was in the last stages of a fast-moving terminal disease, and no medical technology would keep him alive much longer.
She was relieved to find him awake and relatively alert, though a bit groggy from the drugs that barely kept his pain in check. There was a chair near his hospital bed and she pulled it closer to him and settled in, reaching over to take the hand that wasn't encumbered by an IV needle. The lighting was harsh and the room too cold, she thought. It smelled, as all hospitals do, of piss and disinfectant.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" she asked. "Are they keeping you comfortable?"
Patty shifted uncomfortably in the straight-back chair. She hadn't had time to thoroughly shower at her lover's home and she could feel dollops of his cum still leaking into her panties.
The hospital bed was raised to prop him up from his waist, and he managed a half-smile as she sat down beside him. Patty gazed upon the rapidly aging face of the man with whom she had shared the past 20 years of her life, her sympathy and sadness tempered by a resentment she had nursed for years after discovering he had been cheating with one of his work colleagues, a discovery that had almost derailed their marriage.
Although over five years had passed since that marital storm, the hurt and rage she experienced back then had subtly lingered, mitigated only partially by the revenge she had taken in the form of a flurry of her own extramarital affairs. She took a measure of satisfaction in having repaid his betrayal completely and repeatedly, having enthusiastically transitioned from loyal, faithful and devoted wife to unabashed slut.
"I'm feeling better now, but this morning was horrible until they upped my fentanyl. But I'm so doped up these days that I can't ever poop," said Brian, his voice halting and weak. "I tried calling you last night but I couldn't reach reach you. I left a voicemail. Were you out with Darren?"
"Yes, honey. I spent the night at his house," she answered, smiling sympathetically and patting his hand. "We overslept. I didn't see your message until late this morning when we woke up and I figured we'd talk when I got here to visit."
"Did he fuck your brains out?" asked her husband, a little wistfully, with just a tinge of jealousy creeping into his voice. He guided her hand under the sheet that covered the lower half of his body, moving it to his flaccid penis which had just begun to twitch as he imagined his wife in the arms of her current lover.
"Yes, Brian, Darren was insanely horny last night. I don't know what got into him, but he was really wild for my pussy," said Patty. "As soon as I walked through the door, he grabbed me and started kissing my neck and slipping his hands beneath my top. I usually like to ease into things with my lovers--I mean, I'm not 25 anymore-- but he just went for it and for some reason, I responded right away. I was lubricating like crazy while he was tweaking my nipples. I could feel my pussy juices soaking through my panties. I was standing just inside his front door when he moved his hands behind my back and unclasped my bra, pulling it down and turning it inside out around my waist. He got it unclasped and tossed it to the floor and then he just lifted my top and set my tits free. It was so abrupt! So sexy! Jesus, Brian, I was so fucking hot."
"Oooh, husband, you're starting to come awake here,." Said Patty, as her fingers gently stroked her husband's cock. "I guess that fentanyl isn't making you completely numb, is it? Wanna hear some more about my night with Darren?" Brian didn't respond, but the movement of his cock gave her all the answer she needed.
"So yeah, Darren lowered himself to his knees, raised the hem of my skirt, and started licking my thighs, moving slowly up to my pussy. By the time he pulled my panties down, I thought I was so wet I thought he'd drown in it. My knees were kind of supported by his shoulders and he got right into it: licking along my lips, avoiding my clit until I was crazy for him to put some tongue on my button. When he finally did, it was like an electric current going through me. I wish I could explain to a man how incredible that feeling is: I came right there, standing up. I don't think I've ever done that before. I fell forward as I was cumming and he held me with his hands on my ass. He lifted me and carried me to the bedroom and just pushed right inside me. I wanted it so bad! He didn't hold out very long that first time. I could feel him spasm after maybe a minute or two, but it was OK. I kind of needed a minute to recover from that first orgasm. It took him maybe 20 minutes to re-charge and then we did it again, and again, with a blowjob between fucks. We got into it again when we woke up this morning. I'm telling you, Brian. I am SO sore. And I didn't shower at his place. Do I smell like sex? My pussy is still full of his cum."
Patty had come to love telling Brian about her sexual escapades even before he'd been diagnosed with stage four cancer just six months earlier. She could recall how it started, how she'd been a faithful wife for 15 years, unquestioningly abiding by the "no cheating" agreement they'd made when they first became engaged. And then then came that long 4th of July weekend five years ago, when she'd caught him at the big party at his business friend Jimmy's summer place at the shore, fucking that woman from his New York office on the pool table in Jimmy's basement. She wasn't even that hot, Patty recalled, with just a touch of bitterness. Brian pleaded drunkenness, said he'd never strayed before, but after just little bit of investigation, he'd been forced to admit to having an affair for at least several months.
For Patty, the very thought of Brian cheating was devastating.
She yelled. She fumed. She auditioned two lawyers. Brian cried. He begged. He swore that it was over, that he'd never, ever cheat again. And Patty, who had truly loved Brian and treasured their marriage, began to adopt something like a grudging acceptance. She cancelled her meetings with her lawyers, deciding against a divorce. They hardly spoke for a month, but their lives gradually resumed their rhythm. She didn't quite forgive her husband, but in the months that followed, the realization began to slowly dawn upon her that she could turn Brian's transgression to her advantage. She had been given the ultimate hall pass.
Soon, an opportunity arose when Miguel, a personal trainer at her gym, made a pass. She took the leap, following the muscular young man to his place after her workout and allowing him to screw her senseless with a cock much bigger and more practiced than Brian's. She hid that evening's event from Brian, and she kept the next one concealed as well. But as her taste for extramarital sex grew, so did her sense of righteous retribution. "If Brian could cheat, so can I, and he will have to accept it," she decided.
After a third date with Miguel resulted in an especially vigorous bedroom episode, she returned home determined to have The Talk with her husband, the You Did it, Now it's My Turn talk. It didn't go down well at first. Brian pointed to the penance he had served for his own transgression, how he had made amends for his mistake, how their marriage was based on a newly pledged honesty. It was the latter argument that guided the course their marriage would take.
"Yes, we've agreed that honesty is essential and so I am being honest with you, Brian. "I don't want to sneak around you or do anything behind your back. I'm going to continue fucking Miguel--and maybe some other guys--and I'll be happy to tell you all about it. Please remember that I still love you and only you, but you started all this. And just like you told me, it's just about sex, not about love. We will be open and honest. There will be no secrets, no sneaking around." In the end, Brian reluctantly agreed to her demand. She had left him no choice. To seal the deal, she led him up their bedroom and fucked his brains out.
That night, while they were resting and even before their pulse rates had returned to normal, Patty propped herself up on her elbows and faced her husband. "I'm going to make you two promises, Brian. One, you'll never be able to complain about not getting enough sex. Fucking other guys just gets my wheels spinning. Every time I come back from fucking Miguel, I can't wait to jump on your bones. And two, I'll tell you about every sex session I have outside this marriage, in as much detail as you want to hear."
Brian sighed. He loved his wife and knew there was nothing he could do to stop her. It was his own damned fault.
The affair with Miguel petered out after a few weeks. In the end, after they'd had a full session of sex, they'd had nothing to talk about. Their meetings became boring. She was waiting for her car to be washed one Saturday afternoon and a young man sat beside her in the waiting room. He checked her out. She met his gaze. She loved his silky shoulder-length hair, the twinkle in his eyes, his 20-something athletic body. Thick-dicked Christopher became her next lover.
Christopher's apartment smelled like incense. He lit a stick of sandalwood every day before his meditation. They sipped a glass of wine before he scooped her into his arms and kissed her deeply, coaxing a soft moan from her somewhere deep inside her body. They melded together on the couch and she felt his hard cock as they embraced and made out like a pair of teenagers. She unbuttoned his jeans and reached for his cock, smiling as her fingers had difficulty enclosing it. He pulled off his longsleeve t-shirt and revealed a chest that was as smooth as silk, muscled but not over-worked, the pectoral and abs firm but not in a showy, work-out junkie kind of way like Miguel's were. His cock was thick, but it was shaped beautifully, as if a renaissance sculptor had fashioned it from marble.
She had her first orgasm while she enjoyed sucking it in a 69 position, still on the living room couch. And after he led her to his bedroom, and he entered her slowly sweetly, checking her face for any sign of distress or discomfort before moving in a languid, meditative pace. They stayed in that slow rhythm, fucking sweetly for over two hours. Patty's orgasms seemed to run into each other in a continuous stream of ecstasy. She couldn't wait to get back home to Brian and tell him all about it.
