Jaloux et Excité

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In making love to his wife, a husband discovers infidelity.
886 words
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I remember once waiting for my wife - of that time - to return home.

It was past midnight. I'd been working on a novel most of the day and far into the night. Some time between eleven and twelve I'd done as well as I thought - for the moment at least - I was capable.

The achievement relaxed me and made me think about what might be an adequate reward.

One of the chapters had been about a night at a club called the Mogambo in equatorial Africa. The dancing was wild, the sweat ran down the backs of the dancers and trickled between their legs. The girls wore no underclothes. The men held them by the buttocks, pressed their bodies close and gyrated. Occasionally a couple left urgently for one of the "rooms of convenience."

I began to feel angry that she was so late. That was unfair. She knew - both of us knew - that she could come home at whatever time she liked but she shouldn't take undue advantage of it.

What was undue?

I was sleeping in a separate room while I was so immersed in my writing; so she would not ordinarily expect to disturb me by returning late. Nor would she expect any late return to make me feel lonely or neglected.

But I was like most men when their prick takes over and governs them.

Reason flies out the window.

I wanted a fuck and she should be there to be fucked when she was needed. It was her basic conjugal duty.

When she came in about a quarter to one, I was just about desperate. I couldn't sleep and, for hours it seemed like, I'd had a huge erection and nowhere congenial to put it....

The two went together: as soon as my prick got the solace to which it was surely entitled, I'd instantly drop off to sleep and be dead until late morning.

I didn't hear her come through the front door and she took her shoes off to make as little noise as possible on the way to our bedroom.

The first I knew she was back was when she gently opened the door of my workroom, presumably to check that I was still alive and kicking - or sleeping.

She must have been surprised what hit her.

If she'd never been ravished before, she must have got some idea now of what it was like.

I grabbed her before she could say a word and threw her on the bed.

I was kissing her as though I'd never stop - her lips, her eyes, her ears, her neck. I paid passing attention to her breasts and then my hand was between her legs, rubbing, probing, getting a feel of HQ before I sought relief - it was no more than that - by plunging my throbbing joystick into her.

She still had her pants on. Why should that be something particularly to note?

It shouldn't be of course and it wasn't - until later.

Then you have to wonder whether she had them on because she'd put them back or because she'd never needed to take them off anyway.

My only interest was to relieve the unbearable pressure in my lower abdomen. It wasn't love - not the knightly or courtly love we spend so much time dreaming about anyway.

I'd had a raging erection for so long that all I wanted was to get rid of it.

Oh, the relief - the utter joy - it would be, after all this time, finally to slide "him" into her accommodating crevice....

And then, as I tore her pants off and my fingers gently - I did my best to be gentle - fondled between her legs and traced the line of her outer lips, I realised....

She'd been with someone else.

She'd been with him, it seemed to me, only minutes before.

My first feeling was one of jealousy.

Then it was one of excitement. I was turned on by the thought of another man having so recently been in that exquisite spot where I was about to go...

He'd been there, perhaps just minutes ago. I imagined the ecstasies of his last moments as he exploded into her. Oh, how he would have loved it - those moments of joy without equal in human experience...

Now it was my turn.

I'd make love to her in a way she'd never be able to forget.

With a fierceness that was uncharacteristic, I plunged my throbbing cock into her and, all too soon, felt the glorious moment as the world exploded and then went on and on exploding...

I don't know how long it lasted; but it wasn't enough.

I wanted to fuck the life out of her and out of the alien mess her lover had left behind.

I didn't let her go at all that night. We got very little sleep.

Just as an aside, because it doesn't matter now, she did forget it - or she didn't treasure the memory as I thought my performance deserved.

Our marriage ended only months later.

But the memory lingers...especially of the way it is, for a man, to be both jaloux et excitè at the same overwhelming moment of sexual ecstasy.

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5 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousover 17 years ago
Lovely fuck; fucking lovely

Basic lust: get your cock in and fuck her to death. Feel the soft clasp of her sleeve of love massaging your dick, squeezing, tickling, hugging... She must have loved it too: you can almost hear her scream in ecstasy as his prick thrusts in and out and then the marvellous climax as he floods her cunt with hot semen : his tribute to the ultimate joy she has given and shared. Oh, lovely, lovely, lovely!!!

AnonymousAnonymousover 17 years ago
Bullshit

You, writer, are a fucking idiot.

KOLKOREKOLKOREalmost 18 years ago
What’s wrong with 'jealous' and 'excited'?

I was afraid it's one of those submissions in foreign languages, and my French is rotten... If there was some inherent value to the French in the story it would have been ok but since there is none, it feels like an empty posturing. Now, I hope (for your sake) that you don’t eliminate my posting as well. Then you could definitely mark for yourself a more serious issue than just a stylistic lack of integrity.

A second problem: I am usually not turned on by cheating, but the story should not be punished for that. A different question which comes to mind is as follows. Would not it be justified for a reader to expect some effort on the author part, in selling the point of the exciting qualities of the sexual encounter of this soon to be ex- couple? I mean the more you get away from the common denominator of readers preferences, shouldn’t you make a more vigorous effort to sell your POV? Doing little more than just stating that it’s great to sleep with a freshly fucked wife does not sell it.

Good luck with your future submissions.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 18 years ago
Hmmm 2 Deleted Comments - Not Nice

You get to say in your story what you need to - when you leave public comments open (good for you) we say what we need to! Fair & Free Speechlike.

So then - constructively - your premise was gollie she fucked someone else a few minutes ago - how cuckfully exciting - however when she left him in several months he had no hint that she saw him as a wimp and needed a pimp she could respect.

Thats your premise? Well that was sick of him and her actions were humanly expected.

The only problem is that unlike many others - this is a quality erotic site (although some just plain sick weak male demeaning shit leaks through) and you didn't bring anything to the party that could have been arousing to 99.9% of us semi-normal readers.

You have some talent - so try again - perhaps or not as it is your choice isn't it.

duddle146duddle146almost 18 years ago
Short and Hot!

Bellydance,

You do write an intense story. No wasted words, you get right to telling it with gusto. I double loved this story because it was short, and left a lot of the eroticism to your reader's mind. Congrats on a story well told.

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