An Erotic Picture Worth A Thousand Words Contest - August 2012
“Bondage.”
I looked up from my plate of bow-tie pasta. My wife stared at me, her lips a tight line, gauging my reaction to her non sequitur. We’d been talking about property taxes.
“Excuse me?” I put my fork down, watching her as she straightened in her seat. She bit her lip, then sighed and turned away. I followed her gaze to our high-rise picture window, now darkening with night.
The darkness of the city a ghostly backdrop, I examined our reflection in the large window. A twenty-first century inverse Norman Rockwell, call it “Modern Love.” Husband and wife, taking dinner at opposite ends of a rich mahogany dining table, a translucent portrait pierced by shimmering city lights. Tiny twin candle flames making strange shadows of our expensive decor. Two lives barely held together, without depth, without substance.
I looked at my wife’s reflection. Though we had been married for ten years, her beauty still struck me. Lovely face, long brunette tresses, dark eyes, long legs; she was trim of waist, with full yet firm breasts--all a man could desire. But as I looked upon her, my heart again settled into that cold place that had for so long grown between us.
“You want to leave me.” As I whispered the words, I knew it to be true and hoped that it was not. I had an urge to dive through her reflection and fall screaming the thirteen stories to the loud, filthy street. Of course she would leave me. She was successful. She was wealthy. Independent. Why stay with a man who couldn’t forget?
“I want you to want me to stay. I want you to want me again.” A sob made her choke on her words. She hadn’t cried in so long. She hadn’t even cried when she lost the baby. Now, though, I saw tears reflected in her eyes.
I took a deep breath, and turned to face her. I could see the hurt in her face, but I couldn’t feel anything except a deep empty ache. “I want that too, Sarah. And I forgive you. But I can’t forget what you did, to us. I can’t forget all that pain.”
“I know. But David, I want you to do something for me. For us. Promise me. Will you?”
I said yes without hesitation. Despite all my anger, I didn’t want to lose her. She rose, and when I began to do the same, she silently motioned for me to sit. She left the room, and I sat there, confused but curious. And, I was afraid to admit, hopeful.
“Are you ready?” Sarah peeked her head into the room, eyes gleaming mysteriously behind her loosened hair. Upon my nod, she slowly walked in, a shy smile teasing her lips. Tight black leather climbed from her spiked heels to her milky thighs, leaving her pale crotch and buttocks bare. Another strip of blackness curved under her naked breasts, and she held a long stiff riding crop idly in her hands.
“David, I want you to hurt me. I want you to promise me to try to find pleasure in my pain. Will you promise me that?” As she came around the table to me, I saw she had shaved herself. She stood next to me, and offered me the crop. “Please,” she breathed.
I stood and took the thin, stiff riding crop from her. “Turn around, Sarah,” I whispered. Despite my earlier melancholy, Sarah’s unexpected and uncharacteristic debasement aroused me fiercely.
Standing behind her, I drew the crop across her breasts, pulling it tight against her supple flesh. She gasped and I felt a shiver run over her body as I rolled the crop over her hardened nipples.
I leaned into her hair, intoxicated. We looked at our reflections in the window for a moment, then Sarah bowed her head. Roughly, I bent her over the table. Running one hand over her round bottom, I raised the crop. She looked at my reflection.
“Do it, David. For us.”
I don’t know how many times I hit her. When I finally stopped, her buttocks and the backs of her thighs were pink and welted. The table was slick with her tears and saliva. Her long red nails had worn jagged grooves in the dark mahogany. My arm ached and my cheeks were wet with tears. I was panting and I realized that I had a throbbing erection.
“Fuck me now David,” Sarah gasped, “Fuck me any way you want to.”
“With this?” I ran the tip of the crop up the inside of her thigh. At her nod, I pressed it between her swollen labia lips. She was wet with her juices, so I pushed the tip inside her, watching as her soft buttocks quivered. She squirmed as I pushed it deeper.
Suddenly I knew I must have her. Leaving the crop lodged deep inside her vagina, I dropped my pants. My erection hard between my legs, I mounted her, pressing the thick head against her puckered anus.
She groaned as I pushed myself inside her. It hurt both of us. Anal sex was new to us. She was dry back there, and so tight around my thickness. But I pressed harder, holding her hips and pulling her back against me. When I felt my cock’s head finally push past her sphincter and inside her rectum, she spasmed and bucked hard, awkwardly balanced on her spiked heels. I thrust deeper, and I could hear the clack of the crop as it smacked the tabletop under us.
Still impaling her, I climbed up with my knees on the tabletop, my cock deep in the rectum. I thrust, again and again, the loud clacks of the crop punctuating Sarah’s hoarse, guttural moans. My hard thrusting lifted her feet from the floor.
Using my cock for leverage, I lifted her atop the table. Still deep inside her, I pressed all my weight on top of her and wrapped my hands around her neck. My fingers pressing harder, I leaned close, my lips against her ear.
“You insufferable bitch. I wanted a family. You said you wanted a child. You never did, and you lost our baby on purpose. For your damned career.” Each venomous word came out of me in staccato bursts, in time with my hard, ruthless thrusts and the scraping of the crop on the wood.
I held her like that, restricting her air. I lay my head on hers. She tried to gasp, but I held on tightly. In the window, we shared a long look. Our minds seemed to meet. Her body began to buck hard involuntarily, but her hands did not move to try to pull my hands away. While her body struggled, my hips moved faster and faster, slapping against her upturned rump.
At the moment her eyes began to close and her struggles weakened, I released her neck. She drew a long sobbing breath, then another. Her whole body quivered under me, and I came hard, my cock pumping my seed deep inside her. As I pushed a final time against her, I was surprised when she orgasmed, grunting as her mincing thighs clutched around the riding crop.
We slept that night, limbs entwined, feeling easy and in love again after so long. We talked and cried, and promised each other to explore our newfound passion, and soon. And frequently.
True forgiveness can be a painful thing.
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