Chapter 15: The Videos and the Guilt

I kept every video Ryan had sent me. They were still on my phone in a folder I had renamed fishing gear so Sarah would not notice or look if she ever looked. Late at night, after she was asleep, or in the bathroom at work, or in the car before I went inside, I watched them. Especially the last one with Alan. The one where Alan’s hands were all over her, fondling her breasts, grabbing her ass, touching her pussy. The one where they had made out, and she had moved her hand into his pants. The way her body had moved while she stroked him and her tongue had danced in his mouth. The white stain on the front of her dress when she finally pulled away. I watched that clip and jacked off until my cock was raw. I came thinking about it more times than I wanted to count.

Sometimes, while I watched it, I would replace Alan with other men she had danced with, the two Latino men from the first night—the dark-skinned Black man. Sometimes I think back to my evening with Sammie, and I would replace Sammie with Sarah. I pictured her on her knees in Richard’s living room with my cock in her throat while some other man fucked her from behind. I pictured her riding me the way Sammie had ridden me, with her cumming on my cock the way Sammie had, then getting down and sucking me until I came and swallowing everything I could produce. I pictured her looking up at me the way Sammie had and saying thank you. The fantasies made me hard every time. They also made me feel sick to my stomach. The next morning I had stood in our kitchen and promised her I would never hurt her again. Yet here I was jerking off to the idea of her being used by other men while she sucked me. I told myself it was just leftover adrenaline from that night. I thought it would stop, but it never did.