My ass slapped against my husband’s hips. The slapping sound echoed in our ears. Mark’s fingers dug into the soft flesh as he pounded harder into my core. He was working on his climax. He was using me for his own pleasure, but I knew I’d soon get off again anyway. I felt it building.
His cock became a piston. It pounded at my clenching vagina relentlessly. The friction against my G-spot and against the erogenous zones deep inside my pussy was urgent, forceful, and exquisitely satisfying.
I shook. I convulsed as Mark sent me over the top, whining and mewling as he grunted his satisfaction into my protected womb. My contracting pussy sucked his cum into its depths. We climaxed together. He grabbed me around my waist and planted himself inside me more deeply than I’d imagined was possible. Trapped, I relaxed onto his cock and allowed him to keep me pinned against him. My hands held onto the arm wrapped around my waist. We fell to the bed on our sides as the moment washed over us. We panted and gasped for air.
After a minute, I went to get a towel for my husband and returned after I had removed most of his love from myself. I cleaned him as we kissed and reveled in our love and passion. He got up to undress and relax for the evening. I pulled my pants back on, readjusted my shirt, and exited onto the balcony.
I spotted Tim about fifty yards from the entryway. The upper portion of his wetsuit was tied around his waist. He wore a rash guard to hide his wounds. He said it’s to keep from scaring the kids, but I knew it was protection from the gawkers who would stare and who wouldn’t understand his sacrifice. I could still see the deep gouges down his neck and then re-exposed, running down his left arm, deep, red, and angry looking. I couldn’t help but think he was still so handsome. The damage only added to his mystique, to his persona. I could see how he might look scary to people. I’m sure more than once, someone has crossed the street when they saw that Frankenstein monster approach. But for me, my heart swelled with pride and love. I couldn’t help it.
I said a silent prayer, hoping that Saturday’s conversation would go well. I heard the guys talking in the kitchen, and then I heard Tim’s door close. I knew we probably wouldn’t see him much tonight. It had become his pattern. He interacted with us individually but appeared to limit his exposure to us together as a couple. I could only guess why, but it was okay. I needed him here. I thought Mark did too. And strangely and wonderfully, I knew Tim also needed to be here.
I genuinely love both of my boys, but Mark is still my man.
I ordered brunch from our local bistro to be delivered Saturday around ten and sent Tim a text asking him to join us. Though it would make him uncomfortable, I knew he’d be there.
The next few days were nerve-racking. On Saturday morning, I made a pitcher of Mimosas, and I started partaking earlier than I planned to, mostly to settle my nerves. Brunch was excellent. We ate it out on our deck, where we enjoyed the food, the smell of the saltwater, and the ocean breeze. We were already on our second pitcher of drinks and were feeling little pain. We sat in a triangle, equally spaced from each other. Mark had his back to the ocean, and mine was to the door.
“Tim, there is something Brie and I would like to talk to you about.”
I tensed up, knowing that this was the point of no return.
“It’s personal.”
Tim locked eyes with Mark. The reflective sunglasses hid those wonderful eyes, but I imagined they were dark, stormy, and concentrating on his friend.
“Okay.” My man.
“Okay, please, let me get this out there before you respond.”
“Okay.” That was Tim-speak for: you better not be hurting my friend, or I’ll break you in half, you weak human.
“Brie and I are in a, ah. Sort of an open marriage. We are free to be with other people if we choose to be.” Tim’s head spun towards me, but the terrified expression reflected in those glasses was all I could see.
“It started in college when Mark and I began dating. Well, I should back up a little. We didn’t seriously date during our sophomore year. We were ‘friends with benefits,’ nothing more.” I took an un-lady-like gulp of my drink.
“I told Brie that I couldn’t just be with one woman. Guess I’m just kind of broken that way.”
We all knew that Mark had narcissistic tendencies. He had to be the center of attention and the one in charge. I figured that his need to bed other women was a manifestation of his self-centered personality.
“When we decided to officially date in our junior year, we continued that arrangement,” added Mark.
“Do you sleep with other guys?” There was a hint of anger and disappointment in Tim’s voice. At that moment, I was glad I couldn’t see his eyes.
“I’ve slept with a total of five guys, Tim. Two of them are here at this table. The three others were in my sophomore year before we committed to each other.”
A grimace crossed Tim’s face.
“I haven’t been with anyone since then. We have rules that Mark has followed since the beginning. He must be discreet and let me know when, where, and who. He has to be safe. Absolutely no diseases. And first and foremost, he must, without fail, make our relationship the number one relationship in his life.”
Mark jumped in quickly. I thought we both knew we just might lose Tim here.
“And I have. I’ve always put Brie first. I love her.” He paused and took my hand, and smiled that amazing smile. “I always have, and I always will. She’s all the woman any man would need, but I have this weird quirk that I, well, I need to sleep with different women.”
Tim sat up straight, his glasses came off, and the glare he was giving Mark sent chills down my spine. I could tell that Mark was affected as well, his shoulders slumped, and he moved to the edge of his seat. Like he was ready to run. I reached over and took Tim’s hand. His body relaxed immediately at my touch, his glare softened, and he looked at me, hurt. I saw the hurt in his eyes. I’m not sure if he was disappointed in Mark, me, or us both. Our revelation appeared to hurt him to his core.
“Why tell me? Why now?” Tim settled back in his chair, looking out over Mark’s shoulder into the ocean. It felt like he also wanted to escape.
“Two reasons. First, I’m leaving for a week on Monday, and I’ll be with a friend. We sure wouldn’t want an accidental word to get back to you and blindside you.” Mark paused and took a deep breath to prepare himself for the next part. I’m sure he couldn’t believe what he was about to ask his friend. “Second, I thought you and Brie might take that time to explore your relationship.”
“What?” Tim was tense again. “We don’t have a relationship. I haven’t said anything, nor have I done anything with your wife, Mark!”
I wasn’t sure if I should have been offended by how quickly Tim denied being interested in me. I understand now that he was very attracted to me and that he was fighting his feelings every day, including that one. The way he would listen to me drone on about my day and the looks of longing he would give me from across the room were telling. I knew he still had feelings for me, but I could now see and hear the turmoil churning inside this man. He was torn between his love for me and his loyalty to Mark.