Abuse by the Muse

Abuse by the Muse, Chapter Five

Editing for this series/novella by the estimable MikePaulWrites.

Chapter 5: Does Becca need a pecka?

"Did he make her shave her pubic hair?" Becca asked. "And he likes to come in her ass, right? It's all part of his power trip."

It was late, past midnight, later than I'm usually awake on a weekday, and the bed in Becca's little makeshift studio apartment behind her health food store was really too small for two people. It was an old-fashioned "matrimonial" or "double" bed, the size couples shared before queen and king-sized beds became the norm in most middle-class bedrooms. I wondered how people slept this way without rolling over and falling to the floor.

I was tired, but I was buzzing. Becca had just fucked my brains out.

We hadn't needed much in the way of preliminaries. There hadn't been a need to vet each other for creepiness, or to see if we were physically or socially compatible. As I've mentioned, we'd known each other since we'd been kids, and it didn't take much to reignite my schoolboy crush.

Our meeting, over some vegan dinner salads at Cutler's only (partially) vegetarian restaurant, involved a little bit of catch-up and a lot of commiseration. The two of us were in complete agreement that Becca's husband and my wife's paramour was a complete and total asshole. And we agreed to forego dessert in favor of a rich helping of nookie.

We had come to dinner in separate cars, so I followed Becca to her shop, just two blocks from the Cutler State campus. She unlocked the front door, and I followed, threading our way past bulk bins of whole wheat flower, brown rice and lentils, through the storeroom to a small, neat, simply furnished studio apartment she'd fixed up when her marriage to Tyler had gone south. "It's not much, but the price is right," Becca told me as she set her purse down on the table. In one room, there was a kitchenette, a table with two chairs and that mattress, just large enough to meet our needs.

And we were both needy indeed. On that first night, we just about wore each other out. Making love with Tippi was so satisfying, so central to my life, that I had seldom seriously drifted to thoughts of having sex with other women. Sure, I looked at porn from time to time and I had my fantasies, but my sex life was good, more than good, and I wasn't ever seriously tempted.

Becca was neither shy nor subtle. Fucking her took sexuality to another dimension entirely. Tippi was an active sex partner, but Becca was forceful and demanding.

"Let's get our clothes off," she ordered, moments after we walked through the door. In seconds, we were both naked, and she gripped me, still standing in a tight clench, her hands reaching for my package as I nuzzled her neck. She felt warm, soft but strong. Her right hand weighed my testicles, cupping them firmly but not painfully before moving up to my rapidly hardening shaft. My hand was on her ass, then between her legs, feeling for her labia from behind. Our breathing was heavy, and she moaned.

"You've got nice hands, Drew. It's good be with someone with a gentle touch for a change."

Aside from the pity blowjobs and hand jobs Tippi had been giving me those past months, I hadn't had real sex since my wife had taken up with Tyler. The feeling of this woman's body, the only body other than Tippi's that I'd been with since my marriage six years earlier, was overwhelming. Becca's breasts, round and full, pressed against my chest. As my right hand worked her lips and inched up to her clitoris, my left hand drifted from the small of her back down to the firm but substantial globes of her ass, luxuriating in their perfect spherical shape and the satin smoothness of her skin.

We kissed, deeply, and with our mouths still joined, Becca nudged me down to the mattress and gently but firmly rolled me on my back, Her lips left mine and began to trial down along my body, lingering on my chest, sliding to my belly and down to my rapidly hardening cock. She grasped it with a hand and lowered her lips to my glans, and quickly took it between her lips, almost inhaling it as she sucked it fiercely into her mouth. She didn't move her head at first. Instead, she used her tongue, swirling around my shaft as she sucked on it forcefully, using the roof of her mouth and her lips, every part moving in perfect synchronicity, creating a sensation that I still remember to this day. It was unimaginably exquisite.

I wouldn't have lasted long if I allowed her to continue. With some insistence, I broke free of her grasp and moved my body to a position where I could reciprocate her oral ministrations.

She took me by the shoulders and stopped me.

"Hold that thought, Drew. Don't do that now. Just fuck me. I need you to fuck me."

I didn't need much persuasion.

She rolled onto her back and I slid between her legs. Her legs spread wide as I entered her, then flew behind my back, grasping me and pulling me deeper inside her. I hadn't been inside a woman in months, and the feeling of warm, wet, satin smoothness was intensely pleasurable. It was if I'd forgotten how good it felt to have my penis inside a woman's pussy.

I kept a steady tempo for a few minutes, but when I started to increase it, signaling my increasing stimulation, she flung her arms aroundme and swung my body around beneath her, never allowing my cock to disengage.

She began to ride me. Hard. Her face taking on a fierce look of absolute concentration, her breath deep and fast, as she leaned over and forced her breastagainst my mouth. I raised my head to reach it, taking her right nipple between my lips, sucking greedily as I pumped my hips up to meet hers as she ground her pussy against me. I didn't last too long. The spasm engulfed my entire body, forcing a yell from somewhere deep in my guts. It was as if the energy from months of relative abstinence had all been discharged in a single orgasm that continued for almost 30 seconds of continuous ejaculation. It was bliss.

But as I softened inside her, I knew that Becca hadn't yet come. She raised up off my cock and began to move up along my body, moving until her pussy was flush against my face.

"Lick me!" she ordered.

I had never done anything like this. The idea of taking my sperm from a woman's vagina into my mouth had never occurred to me. I hesitated for just a moment, but she was having none of it.

"Lick, it, Drew. Come on. Do it."

She began to grind against my mouth as I stuck out my tongue and complied, tentatively.

And then she stopped, remaining momentarily still.

"Drew, you're going to have to learn how to properly lick a pussy. Didn't Tippi teach you?"

I didn't know how to answer. Tippi always seemed to respond when I gave her oral sex. Were we both missing something?

"Start by moving your mouth around my lips, back to front. And I mean all the way back, back to my asshole. Just keep doing that, back and forth, back and forth. And use your whole tongue, not just the tip. None of this dainty shit. I want to feel it!"

I complied, and she moved atop me in a synchronized rhythm. My cum was leaking from her pussy, and I tasted its salty taste mingling with her own sweet juices.

A big dollop of pearly white semen plopped from her vagina and coated my tongue. It was weird. The texture was like runny eggs. I resisted the urge to gag and swallowed it quickly while continuing with the motion of my tongue. My tonguetraveled up to her clitoris.

"No," she said. "Not yet! Keep working the lips. Get your tongue in there."

I pressed my tongue deep between her lips; the tip probing her vagina. More cum seeped into my mouth. I struggled again to avoid gagging.

"Now!" she said. "Now get your tongue against my clity. Flatten it! Not the tip, damn it, the whole tongue! I want to feel your whole tongue against my clit... Good. You're getting it."

"And now get your finger in there. Crook your finger, get the g-spot on the front of my pussy. Not that deep! Slowly! Easy! And start sucking on my clit while you do that. That's it! Keep going! Yes! Yes! Yes! Keep going!

The action of my fingers caused the last remnants of my sperm to drip onto my tongue, but the saltiness was soon overwhelmed by a sweet gush of Becca's own juices.

From above me: "Yeeeeesssssss!"

I was completely caught up in the excitement of thiswoman's arousal. I sucked and slurped every drop of fluid as I felt Becca convulsing on top of my face. Her strong thighs gripped my head as she ground her hips down on my mouth.

Her pussy had become over-sensitized. "Stop! Stop!" she yelled. We remained frozen that way for a minute, her body heaving above me, my face soaked in come and vaginal fluids. She rolled off me, slid down and kissed me.

"Not bad for a guy," she said. "You have a nice tongue, good potential as a pussy licker. You just need a little more experience, and we'll take care of that. But wow, you're really a mess," she said, regarding my dripping face and matted hair. She smiled. "You do look so sexy with come all over you," She reached down and felt my cock, which had again become intensely aroused.

'Looks like someone's up for another round. And maybe you'll get a little further instruction before the night is through." And so it went. And went. It was epic.

******

"It was like making an impulse buy," Becca told me as we lay propped up on the pillows in her bed one night, just a few days after our first date. "I'd just broken up with my girlfriend Lana in San Francisco and I was tired of women. I like fucking women. I'm still attracted to them, but it wasn't enough. I cheated on her with some random guy, and she was understandably furious. I guess I'm a little too hetero to be in a long-term dyke relationship."

"Anyway, when I broke up with Lana, I came back here and ran into Tyler. We dated only a few times. There was a lot to dislike about Tyler, right from the beginning. We had different values, different politics, a very different outlook on life. And he kept wanting me to recruit other women so we could do threesomes. It was so annoying!"

"But there was something about him that worked. You know that couple that used to be in the news a lot? The Cajun guy--James something-- who worked for the Democrats while his wife was a staunch Republican? It felt kind of like that. Tyler is a pig, but there was an undeniable chemistry between us and then, of course, we got into this whirlwind sex thing. I have to admit; he's good in bed. Orgasms can be a powerful incentive. It isn't just that he has a big one--yours is just fine, by the way-- but he has this very commanding bedroom presence."

"It blindsided me when he asked me to marry him. And I don't know, I thought, well, the sex is great, he has a lot of money and he could bankroll my health food store. It was like a crazy whim. We got married like a week later and both of our families were totally pissed off. At first, I really thought we could make it work. Even the arguments were interesting at the beginning. And then... they weren't. It was stupid, I know, but at least I still have the store, if I can make it profitable enough to keep it. It's not the best business to be in."

Tippi and I had dinner together at home the next evening. We hadn't had a chance to talk much in the preceding few days. The awkwardness of our situation had begun to crystalize the growing distance between us. We both struggled to overcome it.

Tippi looked up from the bowl of pasta I'd prepared. "We both know he hasn't a right to say anything about this, but you should know that Tyler is furious," said Tippi, her fork twirling some spaghetti. I loved watching Tippi eat: her mouth taking little bites of food, nibbling as daintily as a kitten. I marveled at how she could be so dainty in some things and so forceful in others. Like fucking. When she was fucking, Tippi moved on a man's body more like a tigress than a kitten.

Someday soon, I'll get to show Tippi all that technique I've learned from Becca, I thought.

But we weren't there yet. Tippi was still talking about Tyler. What Tyler felt. What Tyler wanted.

Fuck Tyler.

I hadn't set out to piss Tyler off, but I was more than a little pleased that he was upset that his wife--they were separated, but they were still married--had responded to my Bumble page. There was a justice to it, a balancing fairness. Tyler, that selfish prick, didn't see it thatway, and I was fine with that.

I was seeing Becca a couple of times a week as the month progressed. She hadn't replaced Tippi in my affections, but I grew increasingly fond of her, enjoying her candor, her strong opinions on everything from politics to organic tomatoes, and her unabashedly aggressive attitude in the bedroom. She was very frank about her bisexuality, and even let me know, without embarrassment, how she had lusted after my wife all during their school years. "I usually don't waste my time going for straight girls, Drew, but I sometimes masturbated thinking of Tippi. She's definitely my type."

I marveled at the contrast between my wife and Becca: Tippi a chiseled blonde-haired blue-eyed Viking. Becca the ultimate brunette with jet black hair and eyes like dark pools. Where Tippi's was narrow and slender, her small but perfectly formed breasts riding high on her chest, nipples frequently at attention. Becca's breasts were more ponderous things, not saggy, but large and round with small nipples surrounded by big areolae. They offered a deliciously squeezeable softness, pillows in whichI happily buried my face.

Most of all, I marveled at how I could be so attracted to both ladies simultaneously. It gave me a dose of empathy when I thought of the predicament of my marriage and Tippi's expression of love for me and fascination for Tyler. Okay, I thought. This is how this works. And without rancor, I thought, maybe two can play this game. Becca can help me get through this.

How Tyler had maneuvered his estranged wife into visiting my house has remained a mystery through all these years. When I stopped off at my house between client meetings, Becca's car was parked on the street beside my driveway. It was right behind Tyler's. And Tippi's was there, too, of course, parked on the driveway. At least there was a space for my car.

As you may have guessed, they were there together. The three of them were in my bed, atop my sheets, using my pillow.

Tippi was sitting atop Tyler, her ass impaled on his pistoning cock, her legs spread wide open and her nipples, those nipples were as hard as bullets. Drew could see the thickness of Tyler's penis as it rammed methodically into his wife's ass.

Her eyes were half-closed, looking like slits, the pupils rolling toward the ceiling, and her face screwed up in intense concentration. Her mouth was set in a grimace that reflected the intensity of both pain and pleasure. There was another body prone and facedown between Tylers's legs, and I could see that it was Becca, her head flush against Tippi's pussy, her tongue lapping busy at my wife's clitoris, while her right hand rubbed furiously at her own vulva. Nothing was being said, not even a grunt or a moan. The only sound was that of Tippi's panting and mewling, her breath quickening imperceptibly with each of Tyler's rapid thrusts, a high-pitched whimper interspersed with those breaths.

Tippi's eyes didn't open as I stepped into the room, and Becca was focused on her cunnilingus.

Tyler was the only one of the threesome who reacted to my presence. He turned his face toward me and, without breaking rhythm, flashed big, satisfied grin. A taunting grin. Infuriating.

I stood there, paralyzed, not knowing whether to discretely withdraw or to confront them.

I finally broke my silence. "What! The! Fuck????"

Tippi's eyes opened, and a split second later, Becca raised her head from my wife's pussy. Tyler didn't stop until Tippi raised up and slid forward to disengage her ass.

There wasn't much to say, and all she could manage was, "Jesus, Drew, I didn't think you'd be home. Sorry about this. We'll clean up when we're done, okay, sweetie?

Becca looked uncharacteristically abashed. "It's a long story, Drew. I swear I didn't plan this, but I had to drop some stuff off for Tyler and he said he'd be here and then, well, one thing led to another and..."

And then Tyler spoke. "Hey Drew, do you think you could give us a little privacy? We're kinda busy right now. We'll be finished in a half hour or so."

I left my house. Honestly, it didn't feel much like my house any longer. I called my friend and business partner, Simon, and asked if I could stay with him for a few days. A few days stretched to a week, and though we texted, I didn't take any of Tippi's calls. Finally, at her request, we agreed to meet for dinner.

We met at Cutler's best Italian restaurant, a place that had been the site of some of our most romantic dinners. This dinner would be anything but romantic.

The waiter poured two glasses of Cabernet, and after Tippi took a long sip, she reached her hand out to grasp mine. Even in my unabated anger, the touch of that hand, those long fingers, still gave me comfort.

"This is hard for me to say, Drew, but please hear me out. I made promises to you. When we were married, I promised that I'd be faithful to you. And then, when this whole business with Tyler got started, I promised I'd end it soon and that I'd make it up to you. I haven't been very good at keeping my promises."

"I've taken this too far, sweetie. We had such a good thing going, a truly beautiful thing, and I just blew it. This obsession of mine... I can't ask you to hang around waiting for me. I thought this would be a temporary thing, that I'd do the work I was planning and get all this out of my system. But I can't tell you now if and when I'll ever get back to simply being your loving wife. I can't make any more promises, knowing I may not be able to keep them. It kills me to say this, honey, but the guilt is driving me crazy. I still love you. I always will. But it's time to just rip off the band-aid. I can't stay married to you anymore."

"We need to be divorced."

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