unreality

nc-17 | sexual content

(It wasn't exactly how her fantasies usually went.)

The first time they slept together, he told her that he still loved his wife. She was, after all, the mother of his children, the woman he had slept with for years. She was the woman that he, at one point, had looked at and gone, that's who I want to spend my life with.

Later, when Maria was screwing him over on the divorce, she wanted to ask him if he still loved her. But he was still wearing that damn ring, so she didn't.

She nodded, because even as he was insisting he was still in love with his wife, he was taking off her shirt, exposing her simple white bra. And she knew it couldn't be like her daydreams, where she dragged him back to bed for a night of fantastic sex, resulting in him calling up his attorney before her orgasm had even subsided.

And really, she thought as he removed her underwear, she wasn't even sure that she wanted anything other than sex with him. Once a cheater, always a cheater, her mother used to say. Did she want to be the next Mrs. Malone who sat at home and wondered where her husband was on Friday night?

Except maybe he wouldn't cheat on her. She focused on that when he kissed her breasts, when he spread her legs, when he started to probe her with his fingers. Maybe it would be different with her. After all, she wouldn't be cold or bitchy or abusive or whatever the hell Maria had done to make him fall out of love with her.

And then, as he flicked his tongue over her clit, she remembered that he still loved her. Allegedly.

(How could you love someone and then go and give head to someone else? It couldn't be possible.)

She came and she bit back a cry, not wanting to let him know how much pleasure he gave her. Later, she would grow not to care; she would yelp and moan and practically scream his name.

He asked her if she wanted to be on top, and she almost laughed. No one had ever asked her what position she wanted to be in before. They either just did what they wanted or let her arrange them on the bed. And truth be told, she wasn't sure she really liked being asked.

She crawled on top of him as he put on a condom. She was somewhat offended; she told him she was on the Pill, but he insisted on condoms anyway. Maybe he was worried about diseases. She wasn't careless. She remembered the boyfriend who had called her a whore when he found out she had already lost her virginity.

So fuck it, she rode him like a whore, grinding her hips against him while she caressed her own breasts, staring up at the ceiling, pretending it was someone else beneath her.

(fin.)