Reopening Old Wounds (part three) [loving sex] [friends] [cheating]

He pushed me back, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked as he looked me over.

I wiped my eyes and looked at him, “I fucked up. I…I…didn’t think you’d ever…and we only have a few more days together. Why do I fuck things up so horribly, B?” I asked through my tears.

“You didn’t think I’d ever what?” He asked.

I motioned down to us, still connected and tilted my head, “Fuck me,” I said, “I…need to…I have to try and prevent a pregnancy and you just made me not want to.”

“You’d want to…”

I nodded and he pulled me to him in a tight hug, “And you can’t because of Nat and Grady?”

“Yeah.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t want you to have a kid by them either,” he said.

“Why not? It has no bearing on you. We have a few days together at best. What would it matter?” I asked.

“If you go home pregnant, your husband is going to assume it’s mine and might tell my wife,” he said.

“Odds are better that it wouldn’t be yours since I slept with them first. I’m going to tell my husband about sleeping with your brother and neighbor. I won’t say anything about you, so there won’t be a risk to your wife finding out,” I said.

“When do you leave?” He asked as he tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Saturday morning,” I said as I started to climb off of his lap.

His hand grasped my hip and held me to him, his brow furrowed as he studied my face, “You never gave me a chance to come back into your life. You were just no longer an option one day and I hated that. It has taken an effort on my part to stay your friend. Some days it’s hard to see a message from you, especially if you’re down or hurting over something. I am trying to be a good friend to you but you constantly give me these mixed signals. Flirting one minute then talking about your husband and how great he is another. I don’t know whether to flirt back or back off. You confound me to a point where I don’t know how to interact with you,” he said in an exasperated breath.

“Is that why you left after I kissed you?” I asked.

He shook his head, “I left because I didn’t want you to look at me like I was just another bad choice. I left because I still wanted to be your friend once you leave here,” he said.

“And what changed your mind?”

“Grady showed me the post you put up and he explained to me why my shirt that you had been wearing was on the floor, not on you, with cum dried to it,” he said as he looked away from me, “Then he told me what you did after you came home and he confronted you about it. He said he was weak, horny, and very sorry because it was obvious you were using him as a connection to me. He said you got up right away and ran to the bathroom to take a shower.”

I was blushing brightly and turned away from him, too, “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“I know you are. I want to be furious with you. But, I know you’re impulsive and reckless, especially when you’re feeling hurt. I know I hurt you by walking away last night,” he said with a sigh as his gaze fell back on my face, “Did either of them…force you at all?”

I shook my head, “I know you want that to be the case, but no, they didn’t. Your neighbor gave me a drug but I didn’t feel out of it or unaware or anything like that, I knew what was going on and I wanted to do it. I can’t take any of it back, Brendan and I won’t pretend I didn’t do exactly what I wanted to at the time.”

I tried to get up again and he was still reluctant to let go as I looked him in the eye, “Tell me, B, would you be here right now if I hadn’t fucked your brother? And be honest with yourself and me. The only reason you came here tonight is because you were jealous of the idea of him having intimacy with me and you not having that. If it had just been your neighbor you would have called me a slut and washed your hands of me, right?”

“No, you’re not right. I wouldn’t have washed my hands of you,” he said with a slight smile.

“You know, until last night the only person I’d ever had sex with was my husband,” I said.

He brought his hand up to my cheek and pulled me to him in a kiss. Being the greedy whore I am, I kissed back, rubbing my hand along the back of the neck. I pulled back and looked at him, “I’ve just upended both of our lives, and I’m so sorry.”

“I never should have broken up with you, ‘Ven.”

“But you did and we both moved on, right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said as he looked me over, “we clearly moved on.”

“Why are you here with me right now?” I asked.

“Because with you is where I’ve wanted to be since I was eighteen. I got so much shit for wanting to be with you. No one understood that we’d been friends for nearly two years before I started falling for you. They thought I was crazy for spending so much time with an American girl I’d never see in real life.”

“Was I worth the wait or did the fantasy not live up to reality?”

His hand slid down my hip and over my thigh as he looked my body over, “Worth the wait. Were you a virgin when you got married?” He asked.

I nodded.

“Then I really hate how things went between us because I was waiting for you to be my first too,” he said as he caressed my cheek.

“Is your wife…”

“The only woman I’ve been with until now,” he said. “I never even knew you were dating someone when I got that wedding announcement you know?”

I looked away from him, “I never actually went on a date with Ron before I married him. He was just someone I talked to about stuff when you weren’t around. Things were bad at home and he saw that when my dad made me kneel down and pray for forgiveness for being a whore because I was talking to a guy without the family’s knowledge. He talked to my dad and convinced him to let me get married.”

“You used to talk to me all the time…did you get in trouble for that?” He asked.

I nodded, “Remember when I wasn’t around for a while? I missed telling you happy birthday for your nineteenth?”

He looked me over, “Yeah, you didn’t talk to me for almost two months and when you started again you were short with your replies for a while.”

“I got sent away to a religious camp that was basically constant slut shaming for even looking at a guy, let alone talking to them. I played along to get out. I was scared I would get sent back if they found out I was talking to you again. I had to learn how to reprogram my phone so I could make the key logger my dad put on it turn all of my messages to you into verses and chapters of the bible just to talk to you and it wasn’t easy, so I had to be very careful in what I said to you. When you broke things off with me, it felt like I was being punished for lying to my parents and family. Ron became easier and easier to talk to and I already felt worthless so when he started saying he loved me it felt nice. I felt wanted and he wanted more and more of me.”

“You never told me about any of that,” he said softly.

I shook my head, “No, I didn’t. I wanted you to like me so I only showed you the best parts of my life.”

My hand slid over his cheek, wiping a few tears from his skin, “You know, Ron never actually asked me to marry him. He said ‘I convinced your dad to let me marry you. I want to do it around your birthday.’ And that’s what we did. I’m grateful for it. He didn’t control me like my family did. He let me talk to you freely. He didn’t care that I loved you still. The only thing he ever said about it was, ‘Love who you want, talk to who you want, just be home at night for me,’ and for six years I was.”

“Why’d he let you come on this trip?” He asked me.

“I started therapy a few years ago and I realized that, not only were my parents abusive towards me, but my husband took full advantage of that abuse to force a relationship with me. This trip was an ultimatum. I take it and we go to a marriage counselor when I get home, or we get divorced and he risks jail time for receiving photos of me before we got married.”

He looked at me, “I don’t think that’s…”

“We got married on my eighteenth birthday, B, I was technically still seventeen for a few hours after he married me,” I said.

“Are you actually going to try and salvage a relationship with him?” He asked.

I finally climbed off of his lap and he reluctantly let me, “I don’t know. He takes care of me. I don’t want for anything. Staying married and having sex with him seems like fair compensation for getting me away from my parents and keeping me alive. I don’t have to be in love with him for that.”

I took his hand and pulled him up to his feet, leading him towards the bathroom with me. Without another word I shut the bathroom door and guided him down to his knees in front of me then put my high heel up on his thigh. He unfastened the buckle at my ankle and slid the shoe off of my foot then did the same with the other.

I felt powerful in this moment, with him looking up to me from a more subservient position than myself, looking to me for direction as his hand caressed my ankle. It wasn’t a position I was used to and a flutter of butterflies tingled through my mid section. I leaned down slightly and ran my hand over the back of his neck and guided him to me. He didn’t resist me at all, letting me pull him towards me as his hands slid up the backs of my legs until his lips were on my pussy. I moaned and he smiled.

I was trying to stay in the position of power but standing up while someone sends cascades of pleasure through your body in seismic waves from the epicenter that is your cunt it much harder than I thought it would be. My legs nearly buckled and his hands grasped the back of my upper thighs and lifted me up onto the bathroom counter, where I leaned back and accepted the warm, wet invasion of his tongue in my cum-filled pussy.

I moaned and he lifted my feet up onto the edge of the sink so that my thighs were fully spread for him. I grasped my breast and he worked his tongue over my clit, laboring over it until his tongue could press flat and rub roughly back and forth across the swollen, nerve-filled organ. It didn’t slide side to side with his tongue, it was firm and the deliberate movements he made coupled with his fingers pushing into me and curling forward, rubbing me roughly, made me curl my hands into fists, my back pressed firmly against the mirror behind me and I lifted my hips as my body trembled and my voice came out in pathetic, needy, gasps.

He kissed his way up my body and looked me in the eye, “Did I ever take advantage of your situation?” He asked.

“You didn’t know my situation,” I said, my voice trembled as much as my body as he moved closer to me.

“I didn’t have to know it to use it. Did I ever make you feel like you had to be a certain way for my affection?” He asked.

“Only once,” I said as I felt him slide his cock up and down my slit.

“What did I do, Raven?” He asked as he started to push back into me.

I could feel myself spreading open to accept him and I looked him in the eye, trying my best to speak, “You told me…you said…said…ohh,” I moaned as he eased himself fully back into me, his lips found his way to my neck and I squirmed, pushing myself against him as he clasped his fingers in mine.

“What did I do, Raven?” He asked again as he pulled back and thrust into me again.

My eyes were closed and the peppery and bourbon scent of his skin made me lean towards him and bite his neck gently. He groaned and tightened his grip on my hands. I gasped and arched my back as he deepened his hard thrusts into me, “You…said…that…that you wanted me…wanted me to be mature, and to not be so…so needy of…you,” I said, gasping and moaning as he fucked me slowly and deeply. My lip quivered as I thought of it but my mind was trying to root itself in the feel of his cock rubbing me inside while his thumb moved down between us and rubbed my clit as his other hand grasped my hair at the back of my head, pulling it as he got me to turn my head slightly and arch my back.

His lips closed over mine and he kissed me as slowly and deeply as he was fucking me, teasing me with his strength and obvious want. I was breathing heavily and sweat was collecting at the center of my breasts, I don’t know how much was mine and how much was his as I felt the drips of his sweat falling onto me as well. I tried to fight the building orgasm, to hold out on him. All he had to do was pull his lips from mine and lift my upper body towards his for me to reach the crest of that orgasm.

My hands had found a comfortable place on his right shoulder and the lower left side of his back, pulling him to me in another kind of need as I felt him twitch within me with a deep thrust that pressed his body as firmly against mine as it could go. I opened my eyes and looked at him, “I gave you the space you asked for. I stopped reaching out and being so needy of your time and attention,” I said in a gasping breath, “then Ron begged me to need him and I needed someone and you weren’t there,” my eyes glistened with tears as my lower lip quivered, “I just did what you asked me to do and it wasn’t enough because I still lost you.”

He held me to him in a tight hug and I tried to squirm out of his grip, “Let me go,” I begged.

Brendan squeezed tighter and I gasped as he shook his head, “No,” was all he said as he held me.

“You’re hurting me, B,” I said, trying to sound as pained as I could.

His grip loosened and I pushed him away from me, slipping as I hopped off of the bathroom counter and ran out into the room. I don’t even know what clothes I put on, I think some of mine and some of his. He scrambled out of the bathroom after me and I pushed him away from me again then left the room, nothing on me besides a shirt that was much too large for me and my jeans. I didn’t even have any shoes on and I noticed it as I cut my feet on the sharp gravel outside of the Inn.

I winced but kept running, though I didn’t know where I was running to, or if I was running from him or myself. What I’d done…what I’d tried to do? It all raced through my mind as an ache began to sting my side. I looked to the ground and held my side as I tried to catch my breath. It hurt, my feet hurt too and then I noticed the blood on them. I was leaning against a sign on the road when headlights lit me up. I opened my eyes and looked back, expecting to see Brendan step out of the car.

Instead I watched as the form moved closer to me and a feminine voice said, “Angelica? I believe we need to talk,” it was Brendan’s wife, I was sure of it, though I couldn’t see her over the brightness of the headlights in my eyes. I quietly walked back towards her car and opened the passenger seat.

Once my eyes cleared, and before I got into the car, I looked at her, “My feet are bleeding and I don’t want to stain your car,“ I said.

She looked around and grabbed a blanket from the back seat. I looked behind us as another car came around the bend in the road and slowed as it passed us. I saw Brendan look at me as he passed us and his wife spread a blanket in the bottom of the floorboard, then I climbed into the car and shut the door.

Ceri looked over to me, “Why are your feet bleeding?” She asked.

“I cut them on the gravel outside of the Inn.”

“Why aren’t you wearing your shoes?”

“I didn’t want to take the time to put them on,” I said, reciting my response to her like a robot listing off meaningless facts.

“And you’re wearing my husband’s shirt because?”

I was quiet.

“You’re not Grady’s friend are you?” She asked.

“I am…”

“My husband was at the Inn for over an hour before you came running out the front door,” she said.

I was quiet again, fiddling with my thumbs and looking to the floorboard at my still bleeding feet.

“Is your name even Angelica?” She asked.

“In a way,” I said softly, “My screen name is Angelic Nightmare. Angelica is what Grady called me before he knew my real name.”

“Is it also what Brendan called you?”

I said nothing.

“You’re Raven, right?”

I nodded.

“Brendan talks in his sleep. I know more about you than he thinks I do,” Ceri said.

I looked at her, she was smiling as she drove, “Where are we going?” I asked.

She ignored my question, “You know, I’ve wanted to talk to you for years. When we first started sleeping together he would wake me while he apologized to you in his sleep. Weepy, begging apologies for betraying you. Somehow I doubt that if you had fallen asleep next to him tonight he would have woke you with those same apologies to me,” she said.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked again, a little louder this time.

She glanced over at me, “A clinic that a friend runs,” she said, as though this were the most normal thing in the world.

“What kind of clinic?”

“The kind that can make sure you’re not a diseased whore and won’t get pregnant with my husband’s child,” she said with a sigh.

Her phone rang and she laughed then put it on speaker, “Hello, love,” she said, her bubbly and chipper tone was off-putting to me.

“Ceri…where are you?” Brendan asked.

“On the road. Grady’s friend was running down the road and I spotted her and picked her up. Silly girl wasn’t even wearing shoes and got her feet all cut up,” his wife said, clearly trying to bait him.

“Where are you two headed?”

“I’m going to take her over to Grace’s place, get her feet cleaned up, make sure you’ve not caught anything from her and such,” she said.

Brendan was quiet, “Am I on speaker?”

“Yes, love,” Ceri said.

“Okay, I’ll meet you over at Grace’s so we can talk,” he said.

Ceri laughed, “What makes you think I want to talk to you right now?”

“We need to talk,” he said.

I stayed quiet, her expressions ranged from amused to almost maniacal as she gripped the steering wheel.

“Why isn’t Raven saying anything?” He asked.

“Ah, now you’re open to telling me her real name,” Ceri said.

“Raven? Are you okay?” He asked.

Ceri sighed in disgust, “Relax, dear husband, I’m not going to hurt your whore.”

“I’m not his whore,” I said softly.

“Would you prefer trollop? Slut? Slag? Harlot? Tramp? What would you, as the supposedly married woman fucking another woman’s husband prefer to be called?” She asked.

“I said I’m not his whore. I didn’t say I wasn’t a whore. Brendan only had sex with me because I had sex with Grady. He was jealous and I took advantage of him. I won’t speak to him again if you don’t want me to,” I said as I looked at her.

She was smiling, “Isn’t Grady like twice your age, girlie?”

“Fourteen years older than me, just like my husband,” I said.

“And how’s your husband going to feel about you running around like that?” She asked.

“What makes you think my husband wasn’t watching the whole time?” I asked.

She looked at me in disgust for a moment too long while I was looking out the window. She missed a curve in the road, sending us off the main road and down a lightly wooded hill near a ravine. We both screamed as the car rolled with us, crashing through saplings as it picked up momentum from the steep angle. The car stopped tumbling and I tried to look towards Ceri, but I couldn’t turn my head.

The headlights lit up the river slightly ahead and below us, the lights flickered but I could see we weren’t at the bottom of the hill, we were stuck in some slightly larger young tree growth, it didn’t look strong enough to hold the car. I heard Brendan’s panicked voice asking if we were okay, but everything went dark and silent before I could say anything.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/imywvm/reopening_old_wounds_part_three_loving_sex