The Man Next Door

I woke up to a slight headache and a boner stabbing my ass.

For a moment I thought I was in my own bed and that the cock belonged to Will.

Slowly I realized that 1.) I was not home and 2.) I could smell Jackson's cologne.

Snapshots of the night before slapped me in the face, one after the other.

Oh, shit.

At least we'd had the sense of mind to clean ourselves up the night before. I didn't need this situation to be any stickier. I felt disgusting enough without the evidence of the night before all over me.

Then Jackson's coarse hand moved across my stomach and his mouth kissed the back of my ear. He was awake. I didn't have a chance to slink off back home and shower. There was no pretending this didn't happen, even if I wanted to.

"It's too early to have a meltdown," Jackson murmured against my neck. "Let me fuck you first. Then you can freak out."

"Wait," I said, my voice rough. "I can't do--"

"You already have."

"Jackson." My nipples were hard against the camisole I still wore. How fucking horrible was I, that another man's touch could make me so turned on? So wet?

And what about Will? What the fuck was I going to do about him? Was I supposed to tell him? Or should I file this in the folder in my brain marked "Do Not Share With S/O"?

"That sounds like a yes." He moved from behind me and stood so that I was face to face with his cock. I looked up into his eyes and he stroked some hair back from my forehead. "Was that a yes, Ashley?"

I wanted to moan. I wanted to taste him and drink him right up. Still, I tried to restrain myself. Thoughts of Will were almost enough to cool me down. "I can't."

He knelt, swiveling my hips along with him in a motion that made me dizzy. I was so caught off guard I didn't even stop him.

My head rested low against the back of the couch, and my butt was just off it, raised in his hands. My bottom was still bare so his shiny lips were inches away from my naked pussy.

We stared at each other for a few beats. I don't know what my expression told him, but his told me that he wanted to devour me. He wanted to suck me and lick me and fuck me until there wasn't anything left. I dimly thought he might just get his wish.

And then I couldn't think at all because he'd dropped his head onto my lap and licked. The rest of the world dropped away-- all of my responsibilities, my oaths, my promises.

I screamed, I cried, I swore. I clung to his hair and desperately thrust up into his face. I could feel him smiling. Sometimes he even laughed when he pulled his mouth away for just a second and I let out a needful groan. It made me feel even more humiliated, even filthier, but I needed that orgasm. I needed Jackson's cock inside of me more than I could recall needing anything before.

"Jackson," I begged. "Please. Fuck me."

His eyes flickered up to mine and he licked up my slit with the flat of his tongue. I shivered at the dirty sight. He plunged his tongue inside with a pulsating rhythm which brought tears to my eyes.

"Please. Oh, God." I slapped the couch beside me. "Inside me. Please."

"You want my cock?" he asked, his throaty voice the only indication that he was as hot as I was.

"Yeah."

His hand crept up my thigh and he slipped his fingers around my wet cunt. The drenched lips slid against one another in evidence of how desperate I'd become.

"How much?"

"So, so much," I whispered.

He abruptly slipped two fingers inside of me. "I'm not convinced."

I couldn't think straight as he manipulated my body with his hands. A sweet orgasm threatened me.

"I'm begging you."

Jackson's lips curved in a panting smile. Fucking me roughly with his fingers took a toll on him. "That's pretty shitty begging."

My head whipped from side to side. I was helpless. "I need your cock so bad. I'd do anything. Please."

I wasn't even aware of his fingers pulling out or his body topping mine. I only cared about his cock swelling inside me, shoving deep until he bottomed out. It was a brutal, animalistic fuck. Neither of us said a word; instead we grunted and shrieked and cried out.

My body seized in an intense orgasm, sending pleasure from my toes to my head and back again. Jackson groaned, feeling my walls tighten up. It wasn't long before he released inside me with a rush of cum.

A few minutes later he pulled out and sat next to me, helping me up so I could sit. His cum leaked out of me onto his couch. Somewhere in my foggy head I wondered if it would stain.

"Are you okay?" he asked eventually.

I could barely look at him. "No."

I hated him, hated myself. Hated that my body tingled, that it craved more.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" His hand fell on my thigh, I suppose to comfort me. I jolted up and glared at him. "Don't touch me."

He leaned back against the couch and folded his arms. "Pretty interesting command to make when I'm still dripping from you."

"Don't be gross."

Jackson got up and tugged on his jeans. "Don't be stupid."

"I'm not being stupid, I'm horrified. I can't believe what we just did. I can't believe it. I can't believe it felt so good."

He handed me my skirt and panties. "Well, believe that. I never let a girl down when it comes to fucking."

"I'm sorry. That was... That was probably the best sex I ever had. But you can't expect me to be gushing over it. I just cheated on my husband. Who the hell am I?"

He shrugged a shoulder and walked off towards his kitchen. "Just a girl. You're not a saint, Ashley."

I pulled up my skirt and tossed my panties in my purse. I'd almost forgotten how to do the walk of shame.

"I know I'm not a saint, okay? That doesn't make it all right, Jackson."

He ignored me, pulling eggs and bacon out of the fridge. "Breakfast?"

"We need to talk about this."

He sighed and finally looked back at me. "I wish I'd fucked some girl from the bar, some girl who wouldn't 'need' to talk to me in the morning. Somebody who I didn't feel shit for, who I'd probably never see unless we decided to sleep together again. Of course I pick the girl from next door, the married girl, and she makes my cock harder than anyone I've ever been with."

I blinked. "I'm not sure if all of that was a compliment or an insult."

His lips twitched. "I guess it was a backhanded compliment."

I sat down. "I feel sick."

He didn't say anything back. He broke the eggs, sizzled the bacon, brewed the coffee. In a few minutes I had a full table in front of me, and the strange man who'd been inside of me watching me from across the way. He kept still, waiting for me to combust, I supposed.

My eyes watered. Will was coming home today. I'd betrayed his trust. Shat all over my vows. Made myself sick.

And worst of all, I liked it. I wasn't sure if I would have felt more guilty had the sex sucked, but the point was moot, anyway. The sex was wonderful, and I had a terrible feeling I would want more. Sure, I felt guilty. I hated myself. The nausea rolled in my stomach. My chest was heavy with regret. I kept flashing back to my wedding day when Will shocked everyone in the church by reciting his own vows. I remembered how I used to feel around him--warm, loved. I felt like Ashley.

Now I felt like someone new. Someone I hardly recognized.

And none of it mattered because in spite of all that guilt and regret I just wanted to kiss Jackson and drag him into bed.

"I'm a monster," I whispered.

Jackson finally moved. He reached for the butter and spread it over his toast like I hadn't said anything. He acted like all of this was totally normal, which made it even more surreal.

"What do I do?" A tear slipped down my cheek and I wiped it away as if it offended me.

Jackson met my pleading eyes. "Eat."

Then he went back to his breakfast. I would get no reassurance from him, no pat on the back, no encouraging words. He wasn't going to hold my hand or tell me what to do.

So different from Will. My heart broke at the thought. Will would be all over me, bringing me tea, advising me on the next step, offering subtle suggestions.

With Jackson I was just this woman. I could do what I pleased, and I had. I had done terrible things, awful things. Things that would likely keep me up at night for years and years.

Jackson's eyes pierced mine as he sipped from his mug.

I picked up a fork.

____________________

When I made it home later on that morning I was still as fuzzy and lost as I was when I woke up. The only difference was Will would be home soon. His voicemail told me as much.

I could hear the concern in his voice and it turned my regret to blistering acid.

I hopped in the shower, rinsing away traces of another man. Would Will know right away, I wondered? Would I have a chance to confess? I wasn't entirely sure what I would do when my husband came home.

When the shower was finished, I stared at myself in the mirror. I looked exactly the same. I remember trying the same trick after I lost my virginity. Would my cheeks be flushed, my eyes be bright? Would I look like a woman?

The truth was I looked exactly the same. I should have been pale or disgusting. A neon sign reading "SLUT" should have been glowing from my forehead. But the ugly, horrific, unfair truth was that I looked very much like the same Ashley I did the morning Will left for his trip.

I was in a towel when the doorbell rang. I ran for my robe, stubbing my toe in my process. The bell rang a few more times and I rushed downstairs, wondering who the fuck was at my door.

Cathy stood on the other side. She carried a bag of bagels and two coffees. It was our Sunday ritual. I had completely forgotten.

She took one look at me and swept past me. The food was placed on the table. Then she spun around with accusation in her eyes.

"Where were you last night?"

My heart flopped over. Where was this going?

I wasn't a great liar so I stumbled over, "What are you talking about? Home. Here. Right here."

Cathy picked up her coffee cup. "Riiight." She waited for me to fess up. As she paced here and there, I shook and attempted to swallow. My throat was dry. "It was the weirdest thing. I called your cell a thousand times because I was bored. I wanted to go to the movies. Finally I gave up and came over. And your car was here, so I rang the doorbell a trillion times. No answer."

My mind swam with excuses. I picked the best one I could come up with. "I was sleeping."

Cathy smiled and took a sip of her coffee. Then she came over so that our noses were almost touching. "Let's get real, Ashley. You weren't home. I used my spare key."

"I--"

"I saw you. Through the window."

My heart sank into my stomach. "What?" I asked in a faint, unrecognizable voice.

Cathy stepped back and pulled a bagel out of the bag. She was torturing me. "I saw you through the window. Fucking that guy you must have been talking about."

I almost fainted. I staggered over to the table and collapsed onto a chair. It truly was an out-of-body experience.

I couldn't make sense of the immediate world around me. Had I really painted the kitchen walls red? What was I thinking? That was a terrible idea. And those curtains clashed terribly.

Cathy made a noise and I was dragged back to reality, reality far more significant than the decor of my kitchen. She sat across from me, acting like she hadn't rocked my world. She dropped her calm facade and bugged her eyes out. "What... were...you... thinking?!"

I covered my face with hands. "I have no idea." My body shuddered with a sob. "I don't know!"

My friend came around the table and hugged me. "Shh, shh. It's okay."

"It is NOT okay."

She stroked my hair. "Are you going to tell him?"

I wiped some tears away. "I don't think so. It would hurt him too much."

"Don't you think he should know?"

I shook my head helplessly. I wished I could call my mom. My parents moved to California the year before and it felt like a world away. I still called her for advice, but it was different. She got distracted by their dog, I was running around pretending to be the perfect wife. And how this would devastate her. She thought Will was a god. She would never look at me the same way.

Cathy eventually returned to her seat. She ate a piece of her bagel calmly. "Steven cheated on me once, you know."

I stopped crying in shock. "What?!"

"It was years ago." She shrugged. "We got counseling. I forgave him."

"I never knew."

"No," she said.

I just feel like I'm in pieces. I'm devastated."

"Good. You should be. You cheated on your husband." Cathy's laugh was dry. "You should be the miserable one, absolutely."

"I can't tell him," I whispered. "It would kill him. What should I do?"

She thought about it for a minute. "Telling him right now would be selfish. It would only alleviate your guilt. Make a promise to yourself, to Will you will never, ever betray his trust again."

I sniffed. "Never. I felt so horrified after. And this morning I barely recognized my--"

"This morning?" Cathy shook her head. "You stayed there overnight?"

"Yes..."

Her eyes widened. "Did you fuck him again?"

My face answered for me. Cathy got up, collecting her purse and coffee. "Therapy. You need therapy, babe."

"I know." I stared at my hands. "It's not right."

Cathy blew me a kiss. "Call me later. I'll be here for you. Anytime."

"Thank you."

She left me alone in the kitchen. The sun set and I hadn't moved. Any minute my husband would be home.

__________

Will was home later than expected. I'd already made lasagna, lit the candles, poured the wine. I sat in a short sweater dress in a couch near the window, staring at Christmas lights that really should have been taken down by now.

Soon his car rolled up the driveway. I couldn't see him exit the car in the nighttime, but soon his blonde head appeared around the side of the front door. His gray eyes sought and found me. A large smile bloomed on his face.

"Missed ya, baby girl."

I made my way over to him and hugged him hard when I reached him, making sure he was real. Thoughts of Jackson came unbidden and I froze remembering the sensation of his lips on my body.

Will pulled me off of him and stared at me. "Are you okay?"

"I just missed you."

He kissed the top of my head. "Something smells delicious."

"I made lasagna."

Will smiled. "My favorite."

We were quiet during dinner. I inquired a bit about his trip. He asked me what I did while I was gone. When he finished he joined me in the kitchen, helping me wash the dishes.

The entire time I fought the battle of telling him what I did. Twice. Various scenarios tortured me. Acting like nothing was wrong was harder than flat-out telling him what I did.

But I remembered what Cathy said and I tried to keep my mouth shut. What Will didn't know wouldn't hurt him. I just had to look towards the future. Cut Jackson out. He was nothing to me.

Later we went to bed. He had the bathroom first. When I got my chance at the bathroom, I stared at my reflection once again, wondering what I showed in my eyes. Perhaps they were a bit brighter. To me, they looked naughty. I could swear that if Will peered in them for long enough, he'd know each and every one of my secrets.

Will knocked on my door after a bit. "You okay in there?"

I flushed the toilet and ran the faucet. "Fine! Be right out."

When I walked into the bedroom Will was under the comforter. I climbed in beside him and instantly found him naked and more than ready to fuck me. It surprised me, quite frankly. Instantly I wanted to object, to slink away with an excuse of a "headache".

His hands traveled over my body, cataloguing each curve. My eyes closed. There was a time that his touch alone would make me quiver. I'd lose all train of thought, liquify into a meaningless puddle. Become utterly useless.

Now I panicked. I tensed up immediately at his touch. My muscles locked, my knees crossed. My body was literally refusing his invasion. Something deep inside my mind thought that this was wrong, that we needed to talk. I found Cathy's suggestion that we seek therapy one of the best pieces of advice I'd ever received.

If he noticed my reaction, he didn't show it. His fingers inched down my stomach until they found my silk underwear. He massaged me through the material. My body became wet. My vagina was okay with his ministrations, even if my mind was not.

"You smell so good," he sighed. He heaved a thigh over me, pulling me into his warmth. "I need to be inside you."

"I don't think I can right now."

Will took my hand, wrapping it around his hard cock. "I need you."

His lips found mine. How comfortable. How familiar. The muscle memory of my body had me sinking into the sheets, spreading my legs. He rubbed my inner thighs.

"God, I really need you, baby."

I sucked in air and then let it out slowly. I'd been so desperate lately to hear that. For so long now my passion felt one-sided. There was no doubting his lust by the heat in his eyes, the weight of his dick sliding over my lips.

"Let me in, baby."

I reached down and guided him inside. His entire body tightened. He gave me a deep, rough kiss.

"I'm not going to be able to go gently. I've been thinking about you all weekend."

My heart burned. "It's okay."

He went at it, kissing my neck as he pounded me. He whispered words of adoration, pulled at my nipples with his teeth. It was wonderful, but I couldn't come. I didn't even feel close to it, and it honestly didn't even matter. Watching him getting off, all because of me, was more than enough.

He started tiring out, shoving into me with tired thrusts. "Baby, come for me. I'm so fucking close."

"God, baby, I'm there, too," I lied.

He fucked me hard and fast again. The ecstasy of his orgasm bloomed on his face. When he was done shaking over me, he gave me a long kiss.

He pulled out and continued petting me, groaning every now and then.

"That was so good. You came, baby?"

"Yeah. So hot, Will."

He kissed my cheek and brought the comforter over us. I turned on my side and he spooned around me, keeping a hand on my left breast. He had to feel the frantic thrumming of my heart, but he didn't know it had nothing to do with the sex.

He began snoring almost immediately. A tear slipped from eye, dancing on a never-ending path over my nose and cheek.

_________

I snuck around the next week, always on the lookout for Jackson and his bike. Sometimes it would be parked in front of his house. I felt like it was his calling card, letting me know he was around. I pretended it was calling me over, and that every time I drove past it and hurried into my house I was brave.

The horrible possibility was he already forgot me. That the kisses we shared, the understanding we had of the other--though it was brief-- were not as significant to him.

It drove me crazy. Did he watch our house through the windows, counting each turned-off light like I did to his?

As the week eked by, the guilt I'd had over our encounter shrank. In its place reared the ugly head of jealousy. Lust was in there, too. At night after Will and I went to bed, I'd lie there and replay the images of our tryst over and over again until I was breathless and desperate.

I couldn't go on like this. Cathy eyed me at work, asking without words whether I'd been a good girl. I'd always give her a nod, then talk about something else. But her knowing gaze followed me around the office. My regret and my desire mingled together until they were one great albatross around my neck that I was sure could never be removed.

_________________

Saturday came. The anniversary of my betrayal. I was alert and anxious. Will watched me fidgeting with a curious expression. I kept telling myself to cut it out, that I was only arousing his suspicion, but it couldn't be helped. Jackson had friends over, and every few moments we would hear the roaring of bikes.