Chapter 28

She looked at him curiously once Steven was out of the room. "Okay. So. What were you really thinking?"

He grinned. "That, if you feed off of orgasms, what's this weekend going to be like for you?"

"Oh." She blushed. "Um."

His grin got broader.

"We may not actually-- I mean, he could say 'no', you know," she protested.

He raised an eyebrow. "Love, from what Kayla said, there's no way he'd turn down the chance to sleep with not just one but both of us."

She blushed brighter. "Well, he could. If he gets scared, or if the idea of both of us is just too much for him."

"I hope he doesn't," Mark said, suddenly serious. "Um. Honestly, love, I'm ... well, to be blunt, the thought of sucking his cock is really turning me on." He looked at her anxiously. "Does that bother you?"

His anxiety wasn't relieved when she mumbled something indistinct and hid behind her hair. "What, love?" he asked.

She still wouldn't look at him, but she whispered, "No, it doesn't bother me."

He hesitated, then asked, "I don't think that's what you said, was it?"

"Essentially, yeah," she said, blushing, and still avoiding his eyes.

He put a hand under her chin and tilted her head up. "Tell me, love?"

Her face was bright red. "It really turns me on, okay?" she said, a touch defensively. "I mean ... a lot."

He smiled, understanding at last. "How much, love? How much does it turn you on to think about his cock sliding between my lips, his cum shooting into my throat?"

She closed her eyes and moaned, and he slipped a hand between her legs. She was soaking wet.

He lowered his head and whispered against her ear, "Do you want me to swallow his cum, or would you rather I make him come on my face, so you can lick it off?" His fingers rubbed her clit in little circles. "Do you want to see me trying to deep throat him? Do you want to lick his ass while I suck his cock?"

"Mark! Oh god..." She shuddered, whimpering pleadingly.

He nibbled on her ear, his fingers moving faster as her hips arched and she squirmed beneath his touch. "Do you want to slide your fingers in his ass while his cock is buried in my mouth, my love?"

She gasped loudly then squealed and stiffened, her body arching hard against his hand as she shuddered in orgasm.

He waited until her shudders eased, then bent and kissed her. "I see you do," he said teasingly.

"Oh god." She put her hand over her eyes, turning her face away from him. "I'm sorry."

Mark blinked, confused. "Um, why?"

"It doesn't bother you?" she asked incredulously.

He peeled her arm away from her face, looking down into her eyes. "Why would it?"

"I ... um, I don't know how to explain, but ... I mean, it turns me on to think of you with another guy. Most men would totally freak."

He stared off into space for a moment. "Um. Well." He took a deep breath, then looked back at her. "Um. Love ... I think maybe..." his voice trailed off.

She finally looked up at him. "Maybe what?"

He took another deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Love, the idea of sucking Aaron's cock turns me on. A lot. So does the thought of him fucking me. I think ... maybe I'm ... bisexual."

"Good," she said, matter-of-factly, and it was his turn to be confused again.

"It doesn't bother you?" he asked, unconsciously echoing her earlier words.

"Well, if you are, then it's okay if I have a ... a ... fetish?" She looked up at him, unsure of herself. "A fetish for it. Right?"

He smiled. "Ah. I see. I guess that makes sense." He hesitated, then decided now was a good time to ask about something that had been bothering him. "Um. I've noticed you kinda seem to have another fetish."

"Huh?" she asked, and he flushed a bit.

"You really seem to like rimming me and Kayla," he said.

"Oh." Her cheeks went red. "Well, see, since the first guy, I haven't done that for anyone else. So ... it's special to me, I guess. Cause you don't act like I'm a perv for doing it."

He kissed her, gently. "I like it. I love it. I just ... there's something I don't understand."

She nuzzled against him. "Mm?"

"Well," Mark said, "I'd like to do it to you. But you don't seem to want me to."

She blushed again. "I told you ... it just makes me uncomfortable."

He bent, tilting her chin up and kissing her very gently. "Love ... tell me why? Please?"

She sighed. "It's okay for me to do it, because I've done everything else," she explained.

Mark kissed her again, tender and feather light. "My love ... it's okay for you to do it because you want to do it, not for any other reason. I liked it before I knew how special it was to you; I love it now that I do know. It has nothing to do with what you've done before that makes it okay. It's simply the fact that you want to do it for me. Do you understand, love? I'd like to do it to you. I'd like to show you what I feel when you do it to me."

Kristen bit her lip. "I ... I'm really glad you like it. But what I like is doing it for you. Having you do it to me wouldn't be the same."

He stroked her cheek, looking down into her eyes. "Wouldn't it? Doesn't it make you feel good, feel warm inside, to know that I want to do that for you?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head violently. "No!" she blurted out. "It makes me ashamed of doing that to you!"

He looked puzzled. "Uh. I don't understand. Why?"

She pushed at his chest, rolling away from him. "You shouldn't want to do that, not to me."

He reached out and pulled her back into his arms, holding her close. "Why not, love?"

She buried her face against his chest, her shoulders shaking. "You just shouldn't."

He tilted her head up, forcing her to look at him. "Why? Because you aren't good enough to have me do that to you?" he asked, and she shrugged miserably.

He kissed her softly, first her lips, then her forehead, his arms tightening around her protectively. "You are worth it, love. You are good enough. I love you more than I can ever say, more than I can express. You are the best thing in my life, and I don't like the idea of you thinking you aren't good enough for anything. I want to worship you, to treasure you for the rest of my life. I want you to know there's nothing I wouldn't do for you, gladly, and that there's nothing you could ask me to do that would be beneath me, or make me feel degraded or used. I love you, my wife, and I will do anything I can to show that. Please, please, please don't feel you aren't good enough. It's not true."

She blinked back tears and kissed his chest, trembling in his arms. "Mark. Love ... I can't undo the the things I've done. There's a lot that I would if I could. But if you-- I don't want you to--" She broke off, shaking her head. "I don't know how to say it."

"You don't want me to degrade myself?" he suggested softly.

She nodded hesitantly. "There are things I'm ashamed of. They are real. They've already happened. I know you love me, even so. It's not that I'm not good enough, it's that you're ... too good, I guess."

He kissed her again, firmly. "Love, there is nothing that I am too good to do for you. I'm not ashamed of anything I've done with you, or anything I want to do with you, and you've never done anything with me to be ashamed of."

"I'm not ashamed of anything I've done with you!"

He kissed her softly, then stroked her cheek. "Then how could it be something I should be ashamed of?"

"Because it would make you be like me!"

He looked her straight in the eye and said slowly, "My love, that would be the highest compliment you could pay me. I love you. I'm not ashamed of you, or anything you've done. You are ashamed of what you've done, the people you've slept with, but you shouldn't be. You didn't know why you needed sex that much. You didn't know you had any choice -- and you tried, when you found out, even though it almost killed you." He gathered her to his chest tightly, burying his face in her hair. "Oh, Kristen ... I'm proud of you, not ashamed. Never ashamed."

She sniffed, and rubbed her wet cheek against his chest. "I love you," she whispered.

He kissed her head. "I love you, too, my wife. Don't be ashamed of what you've had to do. Simply don't do anything you don't like again."

She sighed. "I don't plan to. But I haven't forgotten what I used to feel like. Someone could probably get anything from me, just by locking me up for a day or two."

He closed his eyes and stroked her hair. "I love you, and if they do that, they do that. Rape is rape, love, no matter what form it comes in. It means they deserve to die, nothing else."

She cuddled closer to him, pressing as tightly as she could. She was quiet for a moment, then she said, softly, "I'm scared to go back to sleep."