I'd Kinda Like Seeing Him Fuck Her When Her...

My ears ring with the silence. I think sometimes that I hear your voice, beckoning to me. Though it was not. You are gone from my spell. You broke the trance and escaped my curious hands.I pull the covers back over my head in an attempt to find shelter from the pain and responsibility outside my door. My foot will not even touch the cold wooden floor, for fear that the creaking of old wooden boards would be the apparition of you as you walked nakedly, on tip toes across my room. My mind is tortured by the thoughts I have. The things I would whisper into your ear in the choicest of moments. The look on your face as you let your body give way to the convulsing throes of climax. The scenes are burned into my psyche and I crave their oddity and wonder. Cleanse me of this imprint though I want to revel there. Cleanse me of my own desire.Even now I cannot escape the internal strife. The most intense pleasure has given way to the most solemn low. Oh honest and true love, without the dark. We had been given two old toothbrushes and spent the entire time scrubbing the kitchen floor, a futile task. I was thinking of Candy out at some dive, flirting with strange men, while she had no panties on. I'm sure the other unfortunate was worrying about the same things. At last the wives returned but, to our horror, they had brought men home with them. The guys were both tall and powerfully built. They appeared to be racially mixed, but both with plenty of Black in their background. Our wives were hanging all over them. Candy already had love bites on her neck and Rach's hair was mussed. The one with my wife shoved his hand up under her top to fondle one overgrown breast. The guy with Rach felt up her bulging butt through her clinging skirt. "Hey," my wife snapped at me. "Imbecile. Get the vodka and make us four screwdrivers." I shuddered as I scurried from the room to do as I was told, unhappily aware of how weak I appeared in my underpants, and how they showed off the smallness.
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