What's Left Unsaid - Chapter 9

I parked next to the curb rather than pulling into my driveway. Mainly because I couldn’t. Someone’s car was parked where Daisy’s car should have been. I didn’t recognize it… but it wasn’t hard to figure out who it belonged to. A sports car. Sparkling cherry.

I gripped my steering wheel as I stared at the red paint… seeing red… red… so angry… an image of a bull snorting and grunting, hoofs stamping on the ground, head tilting down and aiming deadly horns…

What I wouldn’t give to smash into that stupid little car. Ram it over and over with my Subaru. But that wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t even make me feel better. It would just result in paperwork. Police. Charges. Money.

So many people, mostly men, dreamed of revenge. Breaking the bitch I’d heard it called. Ruining the woman who was unfaithful. And I could understand it. There was a primal sort of catharsis in the idea of being a cave person and simply smashing the guilty party with your club. Hooting and hollering and dancing around as if you’d accomplished something. But that was before our frontal lobes had developed. Before we gained feelings. Emotions. Consciousness. Besides, we lived in a world of rules and consequences. No more caves. Still had the clubs though.

Revenge felt like a good idea. But practically speaking… It was never a good idea. No matter what you imagined, there were always moving parts and consequences you’d never expect. It was like trying to plan the perfect murder. There was no such thing. There was always a loose thread. A missed detail. And revenge was even worse because it was even more emotional and reactive. I’d read plenty of erotic stories over the years (not something I did often but every once in a while my brain needed some sort of distraction from all the coding I did), and all the ones that had revenge as the main point, were more fantastical than even the most fantasy fantasy to ever fantasy.

In real life, revenge was never clean. Never harmless. Never satisfying, at least in the long run. If I smashed Ash’s car, it would only feel good for the few moments the adrenaline was pulsing through my veins. Then I’d have to deal with the fallout. The shouting. The authorities. Lawyers. Finances. Etc. And that wouldn’t solve anything. It would just make things worse.

But… maybe the worst thing about it was… I didn’t really want revenge. My anger was isolated. Temporary.

It had been a month since Daisy had sent that text to Ash ending their affair. Since then, whenever I’d checked their text exchange, it was all professional. So, unless they were saving all the illicit things for in-person or they had moved to another chat app that wasn’t synced with the cloud, she had maintained her fidelity this entire time.

Maybe she still was. Just because Ash’s car was here didn’t mean…

I leaned forward and put my forehead against the steering wheel. “Don’t be a fool, Conner. Just don’t. Stop trying to make excuses. There’s no need.” The words spoken by my own mouth were knives in my chest. But I happily sheathed the blades into myself. I deserved them. I deserved it all.

This was all my fault. I was the one driving. Maybe if I’d looked both ways a second time at the intersection. Sure, the man was drunk, but… still… Surely there was a way to avoid it. And now my body was just… lacking. I had basic functions but not the ones that defined me as a man. And God help me, I knew that was so utterly toxic. The idea that a man’s worth was measured by his dick size and ability to get erect. Stupid. So fucking stupid.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, along my chin. My lip quivered, and I held in a sob. God… everything was so dark. So heavy. Why did it feel like I was underwater, trying to breathe but only getting lungs full of liquid? My heart was pounding. Faster. Faster. Everything was oppressive… stifling. Hot and yet cold. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck was like the prickles of a cactus.

A panic attack.

I was having a panic attack.

It had happened before, after the accident and the surgeries. But it had been a while since I’d had it happen like this. An overwhelming sense of anxiety and… and… the world was ending. Everything was pointless. I was going to die. Right here. Now. In this car. Sitting in front of my house while my wife was inside, no doubt getting fucked the way she deserved.

The feelings washed over me. Crushing me. Pressing down harder and harder. I was a man lost in a dark sea. A storm making waves pound, pushing me beneath the surface trying to drown me. And I didn’t know if I wanted to fight back. 

I’d come home early. Early because I wanted to talk to Daisy. To try… maybe to confront her finally about what was going on, or what had been going on. I thought maybe a month removed from the affair would be enough and now we could sit down and really discuss things. To air it all out and start working towards something better. Our sex life was getting better. We’d found a sort of balance. And though I hated that damn plastic penis, it was helping. The one advantage of it was that I could just go and go. It didn’t matter if my real cock was hard or not. So it gave Daisy nearly endless pleasure.

The look on her face when I was ramming into her as hard as I could, focusing my frustration and rage into the penetration of her, was all-consuming. And the satisfied look after… It was worth it.

My breaths were coming in short and shallow. Watery. I gagged. I pushed my door open and stumbled out into the street, trying to gain perspective. To get out of the confines of that stupid claustrophobic car. Out in the open air. It helped, but only marginally.

I bent over, hands on my knees, like I was about to vomit into the street like some drunk. But all I did was dry heave breaths. The doctors told me that when a panic attack took me, it was important to ground myself. To remember that I wasn’t dying. It was just my body going insane (not the clinical term but an apt description). I fell to my knees, hands on the rocky, rough asphalt, and felt the heat, the grit. I breathed in deep and smelled gas and oil and sun-blazed stone.

My pulse slowed.

I pressed my hands on the ground harder. This was real. This was steady. Sturdy. Real.

My lungs filled with air. I breathed out. In. Out.

Slowly but surely, everything calmed down, and in the panic's place was exhaustion and… emptiness. As if I’d felt all the emotions a person could physically handle in a day, all compressed into a handful of minutes. I was empty. Devoid of anymore panic, but no other emotions either. They’d all burst out in a singular moment in time, and now it would take time to refill. 

I stood up, dusting off my jeans and hands, seeing the indentations of the little pebbles and stones that had pressed into my palms. 

Real. Real.

I flexed my hands, feeling the pain of those little indentations.

Real.

Slow deep breaths. I stood. Calmly taking things one little movement at a time.

I shut my door quietly, stood for a moment considering what I should do… but I knew… I knew what I was going to do.

…

Everything I did was slow and quiet. The last thing I wanted was to… well would it be so bad if I surprised them and made them scramble? 

I shook my head. No, I didn’t want that.

Making my way down the hall to the bedroom… our bedroom… I kept close to the wall. I was familiar with my wife’s sounds. There was no doubt what was happening. Any hope that maybe I was wrong had been shattered almost immediately when I stepped into the house. She wasn’t doing anything to hide her pleasure.

I’d seen videos and pictures. But… knowing I was about to see it in real life had my stomach clenching. But my emotions were still missing. I still felt empty. Drained.

The door was open enough to peek inside easily.

What I saw… It was like an arousal attack. Like a panic attack but with lust.

She was drenched in sweat. Sweat from work, no doubt, but also from… who knows how long she’d been home and doing this. Hair up in a messy ponytail. Completely nude. Breasts bouncing gently as she had her hands planted on Ash’s shoulders. He was lying back… in my place… my side of the bed… hands on her hips and that fucking grin…

Some men were lucky. And they knew it.

Ash was one of them. He was almost a walking cliche. Charismatic. Good looking. Big dick. Good in bed. Casual. The only thing he wanted was physical, and though most of the time women wanted some sort of emotional connection, that didn’t mean they didn’t enjoy sex for the sake of it either. Besides paying for it, Ash was the next best thing. A man totally willing to give a woman what she wanted, when she wanted.

From the angle I was at, I could see Daisy’s ass. Beautiful. Firm. Cheeks naturally opening as she moved, allowing me to see… God…holy fuck. Ash’s cock seemed even bigger in real life. That was stupid, of course, but still… it just seemed more real. Thick and throbbing and slick with Daisy’s cream as it slid out from her smooth mound. Her lips were clinging tightly to him. Sucking and gripping as he slid out. Then swallowing him back in, stretching around his thickness and accepting him into her body.

She was moving slowly. Something we hadn’t done in a while. Nothing about any of our intimate sessions had been slow. It had always been frenzied, needy. But she was moving up and down on this monster like she was savoring every inch and feeling.

“Fu…fuuuuck ohhhhhh….” Daisy whimpered softly. Hands gripping Ash’s shoulders tighter as she kept herself propped up, moving as if she were in a porn, a camera set up behind her and the director telling her to go slower, open those ass cheeks, show off that dick inside your married cunt.

I watched, frozen in place. There was no denying how erotic it was. The times I’d watched my plastic sheath enter her were never like this. It just looked… false. Hollow. Poetic actually since it was hollow, and what should have been inside my wife was limp and languid inside that emptiness.

“Oh, shit D… fucking how are you tighter now… you been doing your kegels or something?” He was breathing deeply, no doubt trying to pace himself. I couldn’t blame him. Daisy could milk a cock with her sex like she was a succubus.

“Such a dick.” She groaned, sitting up straight and moving her hands to her breasts, rubbing her nipples slowly as she rose and fell on the thick member Ash was happy to give her.

“Yeah… a fat dick. Just for you. God, you feel fucking good. Ohhhh shit, I should give you rides home more often.” Ash chuckled and let his head fall back on my pillow, moving his hands to fold them behind his head, watching my wife ride him.

“Can’t you just… shut up? I just need your cock, not your fucking commentary.” Daisy growled a little, the frustration in her tone clear.

Ash smirked. “What? You don’t like me telling you how good that cunt feels?” He reached down and gave her ass a slap. “How tight this ass is? I love climbing behind you. Watching those glutes tense and sway. It’s fucking sexy. Even better when you’re doing it on my dick.”

“God…” I wasn’t sure if the utterance was one of pleasure, frustration, anger or maybe all of the above. She kept moving up and down. The soft squelching of her pussy sucking in Ash’s dick filled the room along with her moans.

“Holy fuck D… my fucking god how in the world is Conner not fucking you every minute…”

Daisy froze.

Ash sensed something wrong immediately. I guess I couldn’t say he was a complete meathead. Maybe he wasn’t the most emotional person, but it was clear he wasn’t completely out of tune with body language.

“Wh…what?” He asked tensely.

I couldn’t see Daisy’s face. But the way her body went rigid and stopped moving told me she was tensing up like she was getting ready to punch someone.

“Don’t talk about him… don’t you fucking dare talk about Conner. He’s twice the man you are.” Her words were husky, raw, and I was sure she was on the verge of tears.

“I… hey I didn’t mean… I’m not into that sort of thing… like, I…” Ash stammered. I could see his face, and he looked mortified. Though that fear wasn’t enough to make him go soft, he was still balls deep inside her and still throbbing.

“Let’s be clear, Ash… maybe I should have said this sooner. That’s on me. This is just fucking. It’s sex. And I don’t want you getting into that stupid rock brain of yours that you’re somehow better than my husband. I’m not some unhappy wife looking for some good dick because her husband doesn’t pay attention to her. Conner gives me far more than I deserve.” She put her hands back on Ash’s chest, but this wasn’t a posture to try to steady herself. It was almost threatening. “You don’t know what he’s been through. What we are going through.” Her voice was so raw… on the verge of cracking.

“I… hey Daisy… I’m sorry… mmm, fuck seriously…” He was clearly conflicted about feeling her pussy squeezing him and what was most likely a look of blazing intensity from Daisy.

“You’re a dick, Ash. That’s all you are. What I… god help me, it’s what I need. Conner can’t… I… fuck it… you don’t need to know. But I need this. I need your raw cock. The feeling of skin. Of cum. So you can either get with the program and just fuck me. Use me. Claim my fucking holes and use me like a whore. Or you can get out. I’m not replacing my husband. You’re not better. I don’t want your attention. I want your penis. Now… don’t say another damn fucking word about my husband, a man you can never hope to be compared to.”

Her nails dug into Ash’s chest. He groaned. Maybe in pleasure. Maybe pain.

“I… I get it, Daisy… I get it… I’m not gonna make waves… I swear.” He was panting as if he’d just gone through a trial that would decided if he lived or died.

“Good.” Daisy sat back up, trailing her nails along his chest. “Now… fuck me. Fuck me till I fucking cry…” It sounded like she was already crying. A soft sniffle, a hitching gasp in her throat.

Ash lay back for a moment, hesitating, staring up at my wife, who most likely looked like a weeping goddess.

The moment passed, and Ash nodded, accepting the role my wife had cast him in. Grabbing hold of her hips, he rolled her over, so she was on her back. His sweaty muscles rippled as he pushed her legs up and wide. Daisy gasped. His cock never left her pussy. And now I could see between his legs. Her asshole puckered and smeared with her dripping cream. His cock buried to the hilt and balls pressed against her.

“Hold the fuck on.” Ash growled and began to ram. He pounded her relentlessly over and over, blindingly fast. His balls swayed and smacked against her ass, and she screamed. I cringed at the shriek she let out.

Her pussy was dripping and gripping his cock as it pounded into her, a lubed-up piston going at full speed. “Take my fucking dick, you slut! Take it!” Ash groaned.

“Oh…oh my fucking god!” she cried. And now that she was lying back, I could see the tears in her eyes. On her cheeks. Her lip was quivering as she took Ash’s assault.

“Yes! Yes! Oh god fuck me! Fuck my little fucking cunt!” She cried out and gripped the sheets, digging in her nails and ripping little holes in the fabric.

“Yeah! You like this fucking fat dick inside you? Huh? You need this raw meat? In that fucking oven? Huh. Say it! Say you fucking want my cock, you slut!”

Ash’s sudden dominance after his apparent fear and submission was intense. I’d already cum in my pants. I never got erect. But I’d felt the stirring, the rising feeling of my cum and orgasm. But this time… it didn’t hurt. Well… not as much. It had been an uncomfortable pressure, but it hadn’t been milked out of me. It had come naturally. Watching my wife’s pussy getting pummeled by a fat dick. Her pale mons were getting red, puffing up as Ash slammed into her.

Cum dripped and stuck to my crotch and around my flaccid penis in my boxers. I felt… humiliated. And yet… hearing what Daisy had said… there was a sense of pride in my chest. It clearly wasn’t performative. The only one there as far as Daisy knew was Ash, so her vitriol had been for him. Her defense and affirmation of me were raw and real and powerful. But it was also painful. Because it wasn’t me that was on top of her making her cry in orgasm, it was Ash. Another man. Someone she needed, because she needed to feel skin. Raw hardness and not something molded and false.

“Yes! Yes! OH GOD FUCKING YES ASH FUCK ME FUCK MEEEEEE!”she cried out.

I looked on, no longer trying to hide.

“I’m gonna cum D! I’m fucking gonna cum inside you. You want my cum? Hmmm? You want my thick cream in this tight little cupcake? Yeah, you fucking whore?” He pushed her legs up higher and pounded like a star, ready for the climax of the scene.

“YESSSSSS FUCKING FILL ME. I WANNA BE YOUR FUCKING CREAMFILLED PUSSY PUFF! DO IT!” She was screeching. Eyes open wide and wild, staring up at Ash with determination to take everything he was giving her.

“AAAHHHHH!” Ash yelled out and unleashed his semen. Shooting into her deep and fully like a fire hydrant that was bursting.

“OHHHH FUUUUCK!” Daisy was clearly feeling it, and her head was shaking from side to side… and then… her eyes met mine.

I moved quickly and was down the hall and out the door in less than a minute. Had she noticed me? Seen me? I’d felt her gaze. The meeting of our eyes firm and full, but it was only for a split second. Maybe she was too enraptured in her orgasm and Ash’s ejaculation to really register that I’d been there watching.

It was quiet outside. Only the sound of scattered leaves being blown across the concrete.

I slipped into my car quickly and was down the road in a minute, not thinking about where I was going to go or what I was going to do. Daisy wouldn’t be expecting me for another couple hours.

In a daze, I found myself pulling into the parking lot of a local coffee shop that was a few miles away from my house. I sat there in my car, staring out into space. The image of my wife under Ash, screaming and crying and getting her pussy filled with thick cum burning into my brain. I’d never forget it. Ever. Even if I wanted to. And I wasn’t sure that I did.

A buzz from my phone made me jump. I blinked and realized I’d been sitting in my car, just staring, for nearly an hour. Picking up my phone, I saw a text from Daisy. I left it unread, sitting back in my seat and trying to figure out what I should do. What I needed to do.

I felt so empty. So aroused even though I’d already cum and felt the drying stickiness in my pants. Thankfully, it hadn’t leaked out and stained my jeans. It was already humiliating enough to cum watching my wife get fucked.

My grip tightened on my phone. Everything inside was tormenting. Mixed and tangled to where I was still numb. So numb.

And then I thought of Ella. Numb. 

I’m numb, Conner…

I thought of our discussion so many weeks ago. Of her offer.

I thought back to just an hour ago. How I’d cum, and it hadn’t hurt. Still uncomfortable, but not painful. Was it because of watching Daisy? Or was it something more fundamental?

I picked up my phone and pulled up Ella’s number. It barely had time to ring before she answered. 

“Hello? Conner?” Her voice was soft and sweet.

“Yeah. Um… about what we talked about… is that offer still valid?”