Fidelity Ch 03 - Sex Stories

Fidelity Ch 03

After a restless night I woke early, before Matthew, and I ran. Sunday runs were usually 5k, more if I needed to process something like a problem at work. I ran close to 10k that day. As my feet pounded the pavement mindlessly, I mentally played conversations I would have with Matthew. Mental Matthew agreed with every one of my explanations. In the end it was just mental masturbation. I needed to talk to the real Matthew, not a strawman . I found him on the couch reading wearing jeans and no shirt. I’m usually horny after a run, my half naked husband buried in a book on a lazy Sunday morning… mmm. No, I wouldn’t be distracted. “I tried thinking my way out of this, Matthew. We need to talk, that’s all.” He sat up and put his book down on the coffee table, looking concerned. He held out a hand to me wordlessly. Thinking it a peace offering I put my hand in his, and for a second I felt relief as his hand gently gripped mine. He burst my bubble, yanking me down onto him and grabbing a handful of my hair, forcing my head back so we were eye to eye. “ l checked his phone. You called him twice.” For a second his words confused me, then I remembered, he’d taken Jimmy’s phone before running him off. “I told you,” I said. “No pictures of you,” he said. Of course, not. I’m no idiot. “But I found some of that girl down the street, Seth’s daughter.” “Ruth?” She was college aged, but innocent and sheltered, the child of strict religious upbringing. “Yeah. Quite the slut, seems to have a ...

... thing for sleazy slackers.” Matthew’s grip on my hair it made difficult to shrug. It wasn’t my business who Ruth let take pictures of her. “Pictures of other women, too. Including her mom.” I gasped, that shrew? “You’ve got some real competition with that one. She’s had more at least four of them together and she definitely likes her face painted.” I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Who knew Jimmy would turn out so industrious.” I’d made a mistake, I could tell immediately by Matthew’s expression. “Yeah, he’s got a regular cottage industry of whores. Probably wanted to add you to his photo album, but didn’t get the chance.” Yanking my head back further, he smiled at me cruelly, seeing my pain, then pushed my head down to his belt buckle. I looked up at him, outraged as he pushed my mouth into the bulge of his hard cock. “‘Whore’ might be the wrong word. A whore is an honest line of work. ‘Slut’ isn’t right either. I dated a couple of sluts between Karen and you. Nice girls, forthright about their desires. They had some self-respect, too. Not you, though.” As if to prove his point, he lifted my head back and unzipped. After a bit of maneuvering, his cock jumped out like a jack in the box, hitting my cheek. He laughed and pushed me toward his spear. Again, I’d like to say I resisted. That I somehow pulled away and struck back, at least verbally. What I did was I swallowed the tip. I spent a minute like that, in disbelief, sucking the head of his wonderful cock, wondering what the ...