Love and Trust Betrayed Ch. 01

"Yeah, yeah," Daddy mumbled, blood gushing from his nose.

Hearing the commotion, my Mother ran out of their bedroom and knelt down next to Daddy, trying to stop the bleeding and comfort him.

"And you," Uncle Peter said getting her attention . . . "you'd better make it your business to see to it that this piece of shit stays away from Bryce, or I'll see that your ass goes to jail too."

*****

"That Fall I enrolled in college and for the next two years, I lived with Uncle Peter's family (his wife Georgina and their five-year-old twins Mark and Matthew). I don't know what transpired between Uncle Peter and my father, but each month like clockwork, I started receiving a deposit to my checking account for $750.00, and at the beginning of each academic year until I graduated, my college fees and other related expenses were always paid in advance. Thanks to my Uncle Peter, I finally got out of that hell and away from my parents."

"Jace," she began . . . "I was never close to my parents, and since leaving I have not talked to either one of them, and I intend to keep it that way . . . I have you now."

I pulled her to me and held onto her for all I was worth. She was right; we both had each other now.

*****

With Bryce's support, I got my life in order and on course again. My brothers and I slowly began to rebuild the bond we had when we were growing up, and I mended fences with my father. I knew things were moving in the right direction when with a small subsidy from my Dad I began a small engineering business that in a short period began to show promise and profit.

Bryce was the best thing that could have happened to me, so how did I let it go so wrong?

I've been in love with Bryce from the beginning, but after a couple of years, I found myself wanting to have sex with other women, believing I was entitled to this little sexual diversion because I was a man, and after all, this was part of the male nature . . . wasn't it? Sadly, my distorted perception of male entitlement was just a way to rationalize my lustful desires.

My behavior was egotistical and short-sighted, and I'm ashamed to say, I let my dick control me. After a night of drinking, I had sex with Tiffany for the first time since meeting Bryce. I tried to talk myself into believing it was because of Bryce's attitudes and issues that had pushed me to Tiffany. Hell, I knew that was a lie, what man in his right mind would every choose Tiffany over Bryce?

I foolishly thought Bryce would never find out, but she did, and I came terribly close to losing what I valued most.

*****

"Why did you have to fuck her, Jace?" Bryce had asked.

I said nothing . . . what could I say?

The afternoon Bryce had come home earlier than expected and walked into the den and found Tiffany rubbing up against me with just a skimpy pair of black panties on, her naked tits full and heavy and her nipples hard and peaked. Tiffany Reynolds was a bitch and as far as I was concerned always had been. From our first meeting, it had been a tempestuous relationship, and I had put up with her often mean-spiritedness and possessiveness for the simple fact that she was a good fucking lay. All of that having been said, if things had gone on much longer, I would have fucked her again, right there on the floor, but when I looked up and saw Bryce standing speechless in the doorway watching Tiffany whorishly gyrate and hump my thigh, I unceremoniously pushed Tiff away from me.

Abruptly, Bryce turned to leave, and I hurried to her and took her by the arm turning her around to face me.

"Bryce, Bryce wait . . . I can explain," I stuttered.

"Why did you have to bring her here, to our home?" she asked her voice barely audible and the tears brimming in her eyes.

"Bryce, baby, please listen to me, listen to me. Nothing happened between Tiffany and me," I lied, almost shouting at her in my desperation to explain. "Hell, I hadn't been with Tiffany since before I met you, I lied again. I didn't want anything to do with her, even though she kept trying to get me to fuck her," I lied again.

Despite my attempts to explain and reassure her, Bryce hadn't believed me. I could see the hurt in her eyes and she told she wanted me to get out. For some reason, I was irrationally angry with Bryce and annoyed that she had insisted I leave, but I relented and moved out of the house and in with my brother Matt. Mentally I knew I had created this mess, but emotionally all I could think about was that she was my wife and belonged to me. The thought occurred to me that I was behaving as my father would have.

I kept trying to talk to her, to tell her how sorry I was, but she ignored my calls. In spite of everything, I knew Bryce loved me and regardless of my stupidity and gross lapse in character, I felt this wasn't the end of us. We just needed to give the situation some time.

*****

The phone began loudly ringing startling her out of what must have been a peaceful sleep. Knowing Bryce, I was sure that her first inclination would be not to answer, but the insistent ringing eventually pulled her from sleep, and she reached for the phone, only to become angry when she realized it was me on the line. Bryce had already made it clear that she never wanted to speak to me again.

Finally, the ringing stopped. I could imagine her laying there holding her breath and then slowly, apprehensively exhaling, afraid the ringing would begin again. The silence lasted for several minutes and as she relaxed, she to slipped again into the welcoming embrace of sleep. Then the door bell exploded with the annoying sound of it's vibrating buzz. Bryce bolted upright in bed instinctively knowing who was at the door, and growing increasingly pissed off.

When she didn't answer right away, I began calling her name as I rang the bell and banged on the front door. I know she wanted to ignore the commotion, but I made that impossible. Bryce hesitantly got out of bed and looked out of the window. She rolled her eyes upward in exasperation when she saw her neighbor's bedroom light come on. She could see Mr. Franklyn's pudgy body outlined in the curtained window, watching, trying to assess what was going on over here. Bryce knew her neighbor would call the police and hurried downstairs hoping to quiet me down before the police were summoned.

"Jace, please go away, you'll wake my neighbors . . . go away!"

"I don't give a fuck about your neighbors! Open the damn door, Bryce," I yelled as I continued to bang on the door.

"Jace, please . . . we'll talk tomorrow, I promise," she cajoled.

"Open the door, Bryce," I demanded. I saw her peer through the side glass panel next to the door and scrutinize her neighbors who now stood in their front doorway watching raptly. It was obvious they were trying to decide if they should call the police or wait a little longer with the hope things would quiet down on their own.

I saw Bryce hesitantly reach for the phone, apparently having decided that maybe she should call the police herself.

"I just want to talk Bryce," I said in a calm, controlled voice, surprised to hear my voice had lost its drunken edge. "I just want to talk, and then I'll leave," I reassured her.

After a long pause, Bryce slowly opened the door and looked up at me with an expression of resignation as I walked into the house. No sooner had she closed the door then I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. Initially taken by surprise, her body had relaxed against mine, and her mouth opened as my tongue pressed between her soft lips and explored the familiar contours of her mouth. For a brief moment, she instinctively rubbed her pubic mound against my growing erection, before realizing what she was doing and pulled away.

"You need to go. I see what this is about; you don't want just to talk, do you? Am I right?"

"Not entirely," I said.

"I do want to talk, but I also want to make love to my wife," I stated in a dry, hoarse voice. Again, I pulled her in close as my hand slipped into the front of her panties and between the warm, velvety lips of her pussy.

Bryce grabbed my hand to keep me from inserting a finger inside her. "Stop," she said backing away and adjusting her clothes. "I want you to leave now, and to leave me alone, don't call or come here again, Jace."

"I don't know if I can promise you that Bryce. It's been a long time since we've been together, and I miss you very much."

"Go," she shouted when I didn't turn to leave.

"You know, I don't like being told to get out of my own house . . . if I wanted to make an issue . . ."

"I want you to go. Please, Jace, just go," she cut me off with a barely controlled quaver in her voice.

Sensing her rising anxiety, I relented, "Alright, alright, I finally said, I'll leave . . . for now."

*****

I tried to honor Bryce's demand to keep my distance, but after a few weeks, I found myself feeling more and more emotionally frustrated, sexually deprived and just plain angry at my wife for holding herself from me. This frustration came to a head in what even I would call an insensitive and self-centered way.

I had heard rumors that she had been seen out with some guy, and I didn't like it. I wanted my wife back, and I certainly didn't want her fucking around on me.

We had talked on the phone a few days later, the subject of this other guy came up, inevitably the conversation ended with a loud, nasty argument.

"You don't own me, Jace! She had shouted. I went through enough with my sick bastard of a father, and I don't need you controlling me, using me." She sniffed, cleared her throat and said, "I loved you, Jace, I stupidly trusted and believed in you more than any man I had ever known before, but you betrayed all of that for some tramp's pussy one night."

The phone slammed down, and then there was silence.

*****

We were approaching the three-month mark of our separation. We hadn't seen each other in person during that time and right or wrong, I couldn't take it any longer.

I let myself into the house and quietly watched her sleeping on the bed, covered only with a sheet, the heavier covers kicked to the floor earlier. I felt myself stir watching her lie there, her shapely legs slightly spread open. My mind filled with thoughts of how pleasurable it was to be between those slim legs, thrusting inside her, I wanted her badly. After that messy Tiffany business, she had sworn she'd never to let me touch her again, and I knew she would fight me if I tried to have sex with her, but I didn't care. I stealthily lay down beside her and smiled when the warmth and pressure of my hand coaxed a faint but undeniable moan from her. Holding my breath, I shifted her onto her side.

I hadn't been with a woman during that time, and my balls felt swollen and tight between my legs. My rigid cock throbbed painfully with the need to slide inside her and spew its warm, copious essence into her moist, constricting receptacle. Rather than face her anger and disgust at what I was about to do, I fleetingly thought about self-pleasuring myself, but quickly dismissed that idea knowing it would not satisfy me or quell the yearning for her. I stroked myself absently, my hand quickly becoming wet and sticky from the beading pre-cum. I gasped and pulled my hand away in mid-stroke when I felt my balls churn and cum begin to rise, inching toward explosion. I squeezed the base of my cock and lay there waiting a few seconds until my member calmed and the urge to ejaculate passed. I wiped the glistening sheen from my foreskin, catching the faint scent of my obvious sexual excitement that clung to my fingers. I reached out and pulled the sheet that covered her to the foot of the bed. She lay naked, and shifted her position slightly, reacting to the sudden coolness against her skin. Momentarily transfixed by the sight of her hard, nippled breast I reached down and caressed her smooth pubic mound, letting my middle finger lightly fondle and circle her clit until I felt her hardening nub swell and push under its protective hood, hard, pink and moist. I knew it was wrong. I was bigger, stronger than she was and despite her inevitable struggling against me, I knew I would have my way with her.

I was truly my father's son, domineering, controlling, self-centered, and sexually possessive.

In her dreamy sleep state, she whimpered, and her hips moved seductively against my hand as her legs slowly parted giving me access to what nature deemed mine.

Comforted and drawn to the warmth of my body, she pushed back against me, her ass nestling in the hollow of my hips, pressing intimately against my pulsing cock. I slipped my arm around her waist and pulled her hips closer, tighter to me. Bryce squirmed in sleepy resistance, and yet, even in her sleep, I felt her soften against me, all defenses down, physically and sexually vulnerable to me. I held her in place and parted her thighs.

She whimpered, and I softly murmured into her ear, "Shhh, shhh, it's ok baby. It's just me; it's ok." She had been dreaming, and in her sleeping subconsciousness enjoying and wanting the feel of my fingers between her legs, working their way in and out of her pussy until she was soft, wet and ready for me.

I lifted her upper thigh and rested it on my hip giving me better access to thrust my large, engorged cockhead into her deliciously tight and resisting pussy. I felt her body stiffen, and her eyelids flew open when I positioned my bulbous purple cockhead at her opening and pressed it inside of her.

She gasped, only half realizing what was happening and struggled to full alertness, furtively trying to pull away. I put my large hands around her waist and held her firmly to me as I easily, so easily slid into my baby's warm, moist tunnel and began to thrust harder and deeper into her.

"You bastard!" She cursed, trying to pull herself off my rock hard cock. "You're just like him, aren't you? Just like him," and I knew she was talking about her father.

"Bryce, stop . . . Baby, please, don't fight me. I've missed you so much," I implored.

"Let go of me Jace!" she shouted, her surprise and fear changing to anger and outrage. I think she had feared I was going to fuck her like a rutting animal, but I didn't. I gave her my full length in long, slow strokes as I held her tight and softly told her how sorry I was and how much I loved her. She finally began to calm, understanding the futility of trying to fight me, resolved to what was happening. Despite her usual facade of the in control young woman, she began to whimper in frustration under me, realizing that her struggling served only to excite me more. After a while, I could feel her small body grudgingly submitting to me, her pussy acknowledging her master's cock and accommodating to my increasing length and girth.

"Jace, don't, don't, I don't want you," she halfheartedly protested, between muffled moans and occasional gasps when I would push deep into her.

Even as I continued to fuck her, I heard her now timid voice pleading with me, I was disgusted and repulsed by what I was doing to her, taking from her, but that dark side of me was fully inflamed, and didn't want to stop. I was huge, thick and swollen, already feeling the desperate need to ejaculate, but not ready to cum. It was as if the anticipation of fucking her had built to a point where I wanted to prolong it for as long as possible.

Of course, I knew I was acting like an animal, but there was a place in my mind that whispered: "the bitch deserves to be treated like this, who the fuck did she think she was?" As that thought took hold in my mind, I began to pound her harder and faster until I couldn't hold back any longer. Like the selfish bastard that I was at that moment, I rolled her onto her stomach so that she was in a prone position under me. With my knees between her thighs, I opened her wider, my pulsing cock leaving a trail of sticky pre-cum wherever it touched on the back and inside of her thighs. Bryce began a hoarse sensual moaning that added to my excitement and urgency. With a final, almost vengeful thrust, I ejaculated hard and deep into her warm, enveloping and unprotected pussy covering her inner walls with my thick, copious semen.

"Oh my God, Jace!" She called out when her body began to undulate and quiver. She had somehow managed to get on her knees in the female doggy position, pushing back onto my cock. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and I began grinding my hips into her, using her tight, constricting pussy to milk the last drops of semen from me. As her orgasm began to subside, she submissively rested her upper body on the bed and raised her firm, beautiful white ass to me. When I finished cumming and slumped on top of her, she tried to push me off, but I was having none of that; pushing deeper I enjoyed the feel of her hot, moist pussy grasping my now semi-hard dick.

With Bryce captive under me, I dozed off on top of her, my dick still inside her.

*****

I remember waking a couple of hours later and lying there in our bed. I looked over at her lying next to me and felt the urge to take her again, not caring if I woke her. With no tenderness or consideration, I pulled her under me and mounted her. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at me. She didn't speak but lay under me, a look of undisguised reproach on her face. With my full weight on her, I spread her legs and pushed myself into her. I went deep, filling her and luxuriating in the sensation of my cock being buried balls deep inside of her. I slipped my hands under her shoulders and held her tightly to me as I closed my eyes and took possession of her pussy, slowly stroking with the full, hard length of my cock the way she liked. It suddenly occurred to me that I was no longer fucking her, but making love to her, wanting to pull a hard, intense orgasm from her. Instead of revenge and payback, I wanted her forgiveness.

Bryce was trying very hard not to let her body react, but I could feel the subtle sway of her hips as she almost imperceptibly fell into rhythm with me.

"That's it, baby, just let it go. It's been a long time; I need to be with you. You want this too. You've missed the feel of my cock inside you, haven't you?"

"No, you're wrong you egotistical bastard!" She protested even as her body reluctantly softened under me, and I felt her legs relax and open wider for me. My large, hard muscled body covered her small one completely, and I began to thrust deeper, feeling the contours of her pussy contract around my cock. With continued deep, slow stroking, I could see the expression on her face subtlety change until it reflected that anxious look of a woman on the verge of orgasm.

Despite her previous words of protest, she slipped her arms around my neck and held on to me, raising her mouth to mine. I was so hard I could feel the friction and pressure on my cock inside of her. I groaned from deep in my chest when my body suddenly stiffened as it prepared to fill her pussy with thick, warm threads of cum. Sensing my readiness, Bryce moved her hips up and down, rubbing her pink glistening clit against my rigid cock.

Regardless of my efforts to control my release, the feel of Bryce's small quivering body humping shamelessly against mine triggered my orgasm. "Ughhh! Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck," was all I could manage as I started to cum after one last hard thrust. Bryce began to call my name when her climax rippled through her, and her cries of ecstasy filled the room. After several minutes, we lay covered in sweat, the room reeking with the pungent scent of sex . . . both of us sexually sated.

I thought back to earlier that night. I had come into the dark, quiet room and taken her, possessed her in a fit of anger and what . . . entitlement? Despite what I had done to her and her initial resistance, she had experienced an explosive orgasm that now left her body quivering as remnants of her sexual release subsided. Despite her angry words and denial, I knew she still loved me.