I asked him which memories triggered the jealousy, and I thought of my own anger and jealousy at his ex-girlfriends and lovers. He said that he couldn't quite shake my description of the relationship I had with the lead singer of a popular band. When I was first starting college, I used to go to clubs to listen to local bands in the Boston area. Like all young women, I found musicians sexy and although I didn't become a groupie, I did begin to date one of the lead singers of a band that went on to become famous (they had a big hit that was on the charts for several months).
I would hang out with him after they played their gigs, and he thought he was much more intellectual than his bandmates, who would sleep with the teased hair teenagers that mobbed the stage. At the time, I was still a little inhibited when it came to sex, and it would often take me a few long drags of pot to get me relaxed enough to really enjoy sex. But I discovered (and he discovered to his delight!) that when I was high I really loved giving head. There was something rhythmic and mesmerizing about sucking cock while stoned, and I found I could deep throat him all the way down to the root of his cock, with my lips touching his balls, in a way that I couldn't even come close to when I wasn't high. I have to tell you that he had a monstrous cock, the longest and thickest I have ever had, and perhaps that was why my husband couldn't quite get the thought of my being with him out of his mind.
I'm perfectly happy with my husband's cock--it's not the sword but the swordsman--but I think he feels insecure in comparison. The singer wasn't very tall--he was skinny and lanky and only about 5'10, but when he was hard his cock was almost 9" and was as thick as my wrist. The first time we had started to fool around and I felt his hard on through his pants, I almost freaked out.
It had only been a couple of months since I had broken off a relationship with another man, a black Cape Verdean, because his cock had been so big that I didn't want anything to do with it. Now here was another one that was even bigger! I still felt guilty about that earlier non-relationship, and so I tried to relax and enjoy sex with the singer, but it was painful and I didn't start to enjoy it until we started to make a habit of getting high before we had sex. I had told my husband all of this in the interests of full disclosure, but it was clear to me that he had taken note of everything I had said in ways that I hadn't anticipated.
Seeing the photos and videos of all these men, even though they weren't "with" me physically, had touched the same nerve. However, maybe it's because we're both able to sexualize our jealousies with each other and convert that negative energy into something positive that draws us together, but it hasn't hurt us (well, maybe the hurt is there physically in our bondage and S/M play, but converted into sexually explicit infliction of pain, perhaps it is transformed).
I asked him if he liked the idea of me with another man. He paused, thinking carefully, and then he said quietly that when he is driving in his car sometimes, the hit song from that Boston band will come on, and he feels a knot in his stomach that is visceral as he thinks about me sucking his cock, or being violently fucked, his monstrous cock pistoning in and out of my mouth or cunt and my eyes unfocused and glassy, lost in pleasure. He goes into a reverie during the song, transported into the back of the band's touring van, where I used to lie on a blanket with my legs in the air as the singer fucked me, slamming his cock into me until I made uncontrollable animal sounds of lust.
It's as if he is there in the van, watching me, hearing the wet slapping of my pussy lips being stretched and flapping on the sides of his thick cock, smelling the musky odor of my cunt. He imagines the choking sounds I make when I take the singer's cock down my throat, the gurgling of the saliva in my mouth as it bubbles up, forced up as he shoves his cock all the way down. He feels small, pathetic, a cuckold even though we hadn't even met yet at the time. But, he says, he always has a hard on at the end of the song. I kiss him, and I think about how much I love him...