Her back arches and twists and her body pulls away from me.
I hadn’t even gotten the head in, but maybe I was rushing it. I pull her hips back and she resists me slightly. “You’re giving me this ass doll.” I pull her hips to mine and watch as she buries her face in the covers. It doesn’t seem right. Something’s off. I don’t like it. Fuck it; I’ll have to wait for her ass. That’s fine. I got in a finger today and I know she loved that shit. She just needs to work up to it. My fingers run along her pussy lips before dipping in. “Your greedy cunt wants more doll?” I fuck my fingers in and out of her swollen, sore pussy, making sure to hit that front wall and stroke her g-spot.
I don’t get the reaction I expect. There’s no moan, her eyes aren’t on the mirror and she pulls away from me. I still and my chest tightens. Fuck, she’s hurt. What the fuck happened?
I gently place my hands on her hips and try to pull her towards me lightly, but she doesn’t budge. My heart clenches and adrenaline pumps through my veins. Anxiety floods my system. She didn’t safe word. I know she didn’t. I would’ve heard her. “What’s wrong doll?” I keep my voice calm and even, but I’m freaking the fuck out. I don’t like to see women cry. Sure as fuck not because of me.
“I hate you.” Her breathy words barely register as she lifts her head from the sheets. Her eyes are red rimmed and glassy from tears. Her chest spasms as she takes in a shuddered breath. She may as well have punched me in the gut. What the fuck happened?
“I hurt you?” I just don’t see how. I don’t know what I did. “I didn’t mean to hurt-”
“Get out!” She screams with tears leaking from the corner of her eyes and then covers her mouth with her hand. She winces as her son lets out a wail from down the hall.
I don’t know what the fuck happened. I open my mouth to protest, but she moves past me to get off the bed and immediately puts on her robe. She leaves the room without taking a look back.
She hates me? Did it really hurt that bad? It couldn’t have. I didn’t even get my head in. I slowly climb off the bed as I walk myself through everything that happened. She was loving it.
Your husband never fucked you like this did he? I close my eyes and let my head fall back. Fuck! I groan out loud and grab my shirt off the floor. Fuck! How could I be so fucking stupid! I lean my forehead against the wall and close my eyes. I’m such a fucking asshole. She’s not some bitch, looking for a night of fun and running around on her husband. She’s a widow for fuck sake.
I bend down to put my underwear on, trying to think of a way out of this shit. I need to back peddle fast. As I reach for my pants I catch a glimpse under the bed. I sink to the floor and cover my face with my hands. There are boxes under the bed with his name on it. I look on the dresser and see pictures of them. A cute fucking family photograph.
I feel like such a prick. He just fucking died. I shake my head and scowl. She doesn’t need this. She doesn’t need some prick bossing her around and using her like I am. I swallow the lump growing in my throat and pull my pants up. I need to get the fuck out of here.
She deserves better than this. Better than me.
I huff a humorless laugh and push my emotions down. She’s too good for me anyway. And I have no place in my life for her. I start to open her bedroom door, but I can hear her humming a lullaby to her little boy. My heart clenches and tears prick at my eyes. I don’t fucking cry. She said she hates me. Told me to get the fuck out. That’s fine I can do that for her.
I take a peek down the hall. The door is only cracked. I clench my fists and walk silently past the door and keep going. I don’t look back or even wince when the floor boards squeak on the stairs. I don’t stop moving until I’m at the front door. I hesitate, but only for enough time to hear her words over again.
She hates me.
I take one last look at the house before opening my car door. Her picture perfect home that I forced myself into and I climb in my car and leave her behind.
It’s only after I’m half way home that I realize I forgot my tie. At least she’ll have a piece of me to hold onto. Sadness overwhelms me.
I’m sure she’ll just throw it the fuck out. I would.
Becca
I wake up to the sound of Jax squealing into the monitor. My hands fly to my eyes to rub the tiredness away. They’re so sore. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve cried myself to sleep. Divorce and death will do that to even the strongest women. So I’m not ashamed of that.
But I am filled with shame.
I roll over onto my back and stretch my sore body. My pussy hurts from last night. Evidence of what happened. I let it happen. I wanted it to happen. My throat closes and my chest hollows. I can’t cry over this. I don’t even want to believe it happened. I wish I could just forget him.