Chapter 5

Early Friday morning, before the sun rose, I awoke with a start. At the tickling of silken hair on my stomach, I glanced down just in time to see my swollen cockhead disappear into Krista’s shiny lips. Those long eyelashes were closed, and again something inside me said to remain still.

It’s not that she hadn’t given me blowjobs. Although rare, she’d never shied from them. Earlier, before kids, it had been easier to trade oral fun times. But ever since, we maximized our limited child-free time. Besides, sneaky intercourse was, well, quicker. Plus, everybody won.

But it was surreal. The quietest moans escaped those supple lips, twisting along my shaft. And, unlike her usual twinkle-eyed gaze, with her eyelids sealed, she was in a whole different place.

When she shifted to slide slender fingers over my balls, I almost groaned. But remained silent as her other fist sped. She knew me well, and it wasn’t long before the muscles across my body began that telltale shuddering.

Love of my life, she was already gulping when my initial jet flooded her mouth. At the rhythmic filling of her cheeks and slow swallowing of my thick load, I kept holding in that groan. Even as she slipped from my cock with a quiet pop, it remained lodged in my core.

Only after she’d swirled that very talented tongue around my shrinking dome did her eyelashes flutter open. With my eyes slitted when she glanced up at me, I couldn’t discern her expression. But at the soft press of her lips on my very tip and the forceful suction drawing out the last of my seed, the groan finally escaped.

At first, there was no reaction from her. Instead, after releasing my expertly drained rod and tucking it into my shorts, she drifted upwards to snuggle into my ribs. But as one leg draped over mine and a clawed hand roamed my chest, she nipped at my ear.

“Tick, tock, baby,” she whispered.

At my shudder, she settled her lips to the skin of my neck and slurped. God, she was so sexy. When I caught the strange glimmer in her hooded eyes, I ignored it and focused on the love.

But as the day—the last day—dragged onward, the love disappeared. Between classes, she bombarded me with texts asking what I was doing. What progress had I made? Did I have any of the money? Once the afternoon arrived, the texts increased. Despite school rules, she was using her phone during classes. Then the messages became curt. How much? When? What’s happening?

The chirping of my phone was a steady drumbeat, accompanying me as I flailed from bank to bank. Smiling, sipping shitty coffee, begging, and at last crying as I stumbled into a parking lot somewhere across the city.

“Only dinner. Only dinner. Dancing. Nothing more,” left me in a mumbled mantra as I retrieved Ben from daycare.

Once home, just after I’d lifted my son’s sleepy form from the car, a text arrived. It was from an unknown number.

Seven pm. Sharp.

Nope, I didn’t need to know who sent it. When I walked in and showed the message to Krista, blood drained from her face. Her eyes shot to Ella playing in the family room, then to Ben wandering towards his snack. At last, white-rimmed, those glittery blue lasers pinned me in place.

“Now what, Tommy?” she whispered.

Yep, back to “Tommy.” Like steel claws, my ribs clamped. When I remained silent, checking the time, she gulped. Two hours.

One hundred and twenty minutes.

Not enough tick-tocking seconds.

At her slow exhale, I returned to find her still staring at me. Alongside her trembling thighs, both fists balled tighter. When her lips parted, I braced for a scream. Despite the children, a strident curse. A yell. Or even a punch. Maybe two. More. God knows, I deserved it and so much more. I’d failed her.