The Christmas Exhibition (27 page)

             
“You'd love to know what we did, wouldn't you?” Jill was calculating in her taunting.

             
I felt so humiliated, and yet I admired her cunning.

             
“Wouldn't you?” she insisted.

             
They were both watching me, his hand caressing her right breast. I looked to the floor.

             
“Look at me when I'm talking to you.” Jill turned and whispered something to Gary. It was drowned out by the rain beating against the conservatory roof.

             
“Look at her,” Gary ordered, though his voice was calm and not very loud.

             
I could feel my face redden as I looked up. “Yes,” I said.

             
“Yes what?” she demanded.

             
“Yes, I would like to know what you did while I was out.”

             
“
Like
?” Gary asked.

             
I was silent.

             
“Gary asked you a question, Matt, answer it or you'll be sent out again.” Jill had such a dominant tone to her voice that I dared not tempt her again.

             
“I would
love
to know what happened,” I admitted. We had enjoyed years of incredible, mind-blowing sex. That Jill had been alone with Gary was both devising and destroying my night.

             
“Well...” She parted her legs and slipped two fingers into her pussy. “Mmmmmm.” I wanted her sex there and then. “Oh...” There was something glistening when she pulled out her fingers again. “You can tell what this is can't you, Matt?.” She stared at me, neither offering nor implying apology. “I let another man cum in my pussy.”

             
I was seething, staring at her fingers and doubting first my eyes, then her words. This was something we had discussed together in private detail. Jill had confessed a catastrophic lust for the sperm of another man to swim inside her. The sperm of
this
man. I was repulsed by the idea, and argued my point. His vasectomy didn't matter. Precaution failing to serve as predilection for her argument. He could cum on her, I thought we agreed, but not inside her.

             
Jill smiled at me as she rubbed his cum into her pussy lips. My head was spinning, my heart pounding and every inch of me awash with nerves. The cruellest of betrayals and yet my balls were bulging.

             
“Jealous?” Jill asked.

             
“Yes,” I admitted.

             
She laughed, crossed her legs and kissed his chest. “I think this is going to be a regular thing.”

             
“I hope so,” Gary said.

             
Jill ran her hand down to his crotch. “Oh my God, Gary, you're hard again.” She looked at me. “Matt, go pour yourself a beer.”

             
I did as I was told and entered the kitchen. I opened a tin and was pouring it into a pint glass when I looked through the window, viewing into the conservatory, and saw Jill pull down Gary's trousers. I watched her take his cock into her mouth. When I finished pouring, I rushed back into the conservatory.

             
Jill looked at me as she held his cock an inch from her lips. “Who told you that you could watch?”

             
“Fuck sake, Jill,” I said. I was no longer in the mood to be out of the room. I wouldn't let her force me to leave again. Enough was enough.

             
“Let him watch,” Gary suggested.

             
“Do you mind?” she asked, wanking his cock slowly, treating him as lord of the manor.

             
“No.”

             
“Okay.” She looked up to me, pushing her blonde hair behind her ear. “You can sit over there in the corner, Matt, but no interruptions. I'm going to give my boyfriend a wonderful blowjob and nothing is going to get in my way.”

             
I sat on the chair on the other side of the room, my head repeating her reference to him as her boyfriend. I both loved and hated the idea. Desired and despised. Found it as wonderful as it was worrying. I watched, breathing in a fantastic view of her ass as she bent over on her knees to take him deep into her throat. I could see some of what she was doing, but not all of it. The rain beat harder on the roof, droning out his moans.

             
Jill pulled her mouth away from him for a split-second. “Your cock is so fucking beautiful, Gary.” I knew she was saying it as much for my ears as his, teasing my love of dirty talk. She slipped it back inside and sucked up and down for several seconds, then licked the shaft down to his balls and back up again. “The head is so big.”

             
I wanted to masturbate as I watched.

             
“I can't wait til you cum in my mouth.”

             
I felt unable to in my home.

             
“Will you cum in my mouth?”

             
Gary nodded.

             
I noticed Jill's free hand play with her pussy, the juices evident. Were they hers or his or a mixture? Her tongue was all over his balls.

             
“I'm gonna swallow every drop and clean you up after.”

             
I wanted to come behind her and fuck her pussy hard as she returned to sucking his cock. I was desperate to, but the rules we had set in place beforehand were clear. This was her night of one-on-one sex with him. A threesome was out of the question.
I
was out of the equation.

             
“If you were my husband I'd do this to you everyday,” Jill promised, then her blonde hair bobbed back and forth on his crotch.

             
Gary grabbed the back of her head and pulled her down deep, his hips forcing his cock to fuck her mouth hard. Jill gleefully swallowed his length, moaning, purring and playing with her pussy underneath. Gary grunted and yelled a tremendous roar. His body appeared to spasm. I was frozen on the spot, useless and helpless, unable to react. My eyes zeroed on his member in her mouth. Powerful and pulsating. He was emptying load after load of hidden cum between her lips.

             
Jill guzzled it down – behaviour which she had relegated in our relationship to once per year.

             
She swept her hair away from one side of her face, manoeuvred her mouth around his cock and swallowed the final load of his ejaculation. Her pupil shifted in her eye. Shifted to me. Crude and perverse. Erotic and elusive. Denied and exclusive. I was subjugated in her manner. Subjugated to him.

             
“That was incredible,” Gary groaned, as Jill licked slowly around his circumcised head. “You're amazing, Jill.”

             
Gary dropped his feet to the floor, grabbed Jill under her arms and threw her onto the sofa, spreading her legs and diving his face into her pussy. Jill squealed as his tongue licked up and down her lips.

             
“You taste fantastic,” he stated, then circled her clit with acute precision, rested his tongue on her centre for several seconds and finally clamped her entire sex under his lips.

             
Was he using his teeth on my fiancée's most sensitive part? I couldn't tell. I couldn't know. Her face, contorted by lust, longing and a passionate, growing liveliness, invoked primal feelings of misogyny in my mind, erupting similar urges of rampant arousal in my loins. I was locked in a static sense of disorder, unable to react or to respond. Commit or comprehend. Caught between sensations of commiseration and congratulation. Happiness and misery collided. Desire and disdain mocked laughter, and restraint rode over my every impulse.

             
Gary added his fingers, first to her clit, then to her insides.

             
Jill's naked body surrendered to his touch. Her breasts shivering. Her teeth chattering. Her throat expelling a succession of sensual, menacing moans.

             
I was terrified of the neighbours hearing her and turned on the stereo.
Metallica's
Black Album
, the last CD I had listened to, blasted suddenly out of the speakers
. Neither Gary nor Jill appeared to notice. Or care.

             
She ran her hands over his head and pulled him closer. Her eyes were shut, her body close to shuddering at his mercy. “You've no idea how good that is,” she said.

             
Gary's physical appetite increased with her encouragement, and he pounded his fingers into her pussy.

             
“Oh my God,” Jill cried. “Keep doing that... Fuck...”

             
Gary grunted an animalistic tone and shoved his hand deeper between her lips.

             
Jill indignantly squirted her juices into his face, and yanked him tighter to her pussy.

             
Gary relinquished his roving mouth to her gush, burying himself in her expulsion. He lapped at her labia, providing his tongue as a ventricle for her vagina's most gruesome and brilliant ejaculate.

             
My genitals generated a shocking protrusion in my trousers, scraping the material and fighting my mind and my manners to shatter the shackles of conscious control. The urges were overwhelming. The need for relief devastating. The impossible situation ordering a cacophony of concordance in my head.

             
“Fuck, you're the best I've ever had,” Jill confessed in a frenzy.

             
I looked at her face.

             
She was staring back at me, smiling and knowing I would never forget a single word. That her sentences would ricochet in my head for several weeks and months to come. That I would relive the moment over and over again.

             
“I wish you could do that to me every night,” she said.

             
Gary grunted below her.

             
Jill bit her lip as her body jerked again, reverberating under another round of gushing. She tried to force her eyes onto me throughout the moment, but Gary's momentum carried her forward. His fingers driving into her at phenomenal speed. She tried to hold my stare once more, until her body inevitably surrendered to the superiority of his touch.

             
“Keep... Doing... That.” Her body was beginning to shake. “I'm... Gonna... Cum.” Her orgasm was earth-shattering, her naked form bouncing over the sofa and held down only by his grip on her thighs. She tried to pull away.

             
Gary held her in place and teased pleasure beyond her limits.

             
“No,” she begged. “Please.”

             
He gave a final lick of her pussy and released her.

             
Jill collapsed onto the sofa. Her eyes glazed. Her hair a mess. Her naked body an image of penetrated filth.

             
Gary touched the back of her knee, ran his hand up to her ass cheeks and gently brushed against the lips of her pussy.

             
Jill began to shake once more, her body threatening to squirt again, and she pushed him away.

             
I rubbed the scar on my temple with my fingertips. New boundaries of pleasure had been broken in her. Something would never be the same again.

5

I turned off the music.

             
“That was amazing,” Jill said after a couple of minutes, flipping onto her back.

             
“I know,” Gary agreed, and pulled her into his arms.

             
I watched my naked wife-to-be in the arms of a naked man, listened to them complement each other some more and struggled to sit still. I had never needed release more in my life. I felt like a young teenager experiencing arousal for the first time, fighting the most desperate of urges to be alone.

             
“I need the toilet,” I said, and walked out of the room. It was tempting to jerk off over what I had witnessed, but I was lying and only pretended to leave. I closed the living room door to the stairs and crept back to the kitchen, eager to discover their secrets.

             
There was silence for twenty or thirty seconds, broken only by occasional sounds of their smooching.

             
“I really got off on humiliating him.”

             
“I hope he's okay,” Gary said. “I wouldn't want there to be any animosity between us.”