DELIVERANCE 2

There was nothing he could say to me.  There was nothing that would appease me.  There was no way to deny, nor deflect what I had just been witness too.  The cum from this “Dee” was running down my husbands face.  He tried to wipe it off quickly.  But that was the only movement he made.  This “Dee” looked over at me and shook his head, but not in a shameful way.  No!  It was more like he had anticipated that this would eventually happen. And now it had.  I was still sitting on the floor.  I wanted to run out, but my legs weren’t functioning.  I had heard about women in these situations.  Oprah had talked about it, Montell, and it was always on Jerry Springer.  I remember I use to sit there and say things like, “If that was me I would kill him, or I would whip his ass”.  But the truth is you don’t know how you’re going to respond until you find yourself in the situation.  Now I was living it.  And I couldn’t even run let alone fight.  Tyrone kept staring at me.  Dee grabbed his clothes and dressed quickly.  There was only silence in the room.  The air was so thick and sweaty you could see it.  My mind was scattered.  My senses, against my will, took in the scene with incredible depth, the smell, the size of Dee’s dick, which had to be a fucking foot, not to mention Dee was incredibly handsome with a body to match his beauty. Was he married too?  I hated my thoughts.  The visuals were too much.  My husband was semi hard and leaking the remnants of his pleasure onto our carpet.  Then of course there were the streaks of cum on his face.

Dee was obviously still aroused.  I could see the print of his dick through his sweat pants.  How disgusting I thought.  He didn’t even take a shower.  Maybe he would have taken one had I not been here.  Maybe that’s what they normally did.  Washed there filth off in our shower….. caressing and kissing each other.  Having those after-sex moments, that me and Him use to have a long time ago, when I was his wife and he was my man.  But now, I had caught them in the act.  I had fucked up there routine, and there was no time to shower now.  So Dee had to leave with a shitty dick.  Surely my husband had scattered shit debris on this mans dick.  Good for him. Let him go home smelling like I felt…….but then again, I didn’t smell shit.  And if I didn’t smell it, that meant a few things.  My husband had prepared himself for this man to fuck him, or my husband had been getting fucked for longer than I knew, and now was able to easily take dicks up his ass or both scenarios were true.  I knew about the cleanliness factor when it came to anal sex because whenever this fag of a husband wanted to fuck me in the ass, I always cleaned it out first.   I used my douche bag.  It came with other devices that included an enema nozzle.  Had my husband used my douche bag to clean his ass out for Dee and whoever else he was dealing with? I had never seen another bag in the house. Had I given him the tools to satisfy his men.  Fucking pervert! .  Nonetheless, that’s what I used to make sure there were no accidents, further more, its the only way to ensure that there’s no stench. And here in this musty, sweaty balls, cum smelling room, there was one scent missing.  And there was no way a man with the dick the size of this “Dee” could just fuck somebody in the ass on a whim without there being shitty consequences. It’s amazing the things that run through your head when you’re placed in extreme circumstances. 

Tyrone attempted to speak, but no sound came from his voice.  I looked at his lips part.  Those filthy lips that I had once kissed, and sucked. Those same lips that spoke vowels of life long dedication and commitment sealed with a binding kiss before our Lord and Savior.  Those lips that had been inside my body and on my most intimate sports.  Those lips that Dee had soiled with his shit stained dick and his seed.  How many times had I sucked Dee’s dick?   How many times had Dee been inside me?  How longs was this threesome going on? Tyrone had polluted my body, and unknowingly committed me to sexual acts I could never have conceived on my own.  No, this threesome was against my will.  This was rape.  A violation of Loves Holy Trinity, mind body and spirit. 

Every personal space on my body ached.  Without realizing, I covered my breast and grabbed my crotch extending my hand to cover my asshole.  I wanted to remove them from my sight, from his sight, or something like that.  But they no longer felt like mine…and they were hurting, throbbing, aching.  My mouth felt sour and bitter, and I smelled the rankness of my breath.  My neck where he had planted kisses so many times began to itch uncontrollably, and my hair which he had grabbed so many times when he made love to me from behind swarmed with lice, or so it felt.  I was filthy. 

I mustered up the strength to stand.  I didn’t say a word.  My throat was in knots.  I could barely swallow my own saliva.  My stomach felt like liquid mush, and there were anxiety cramps.  I lethargically walked into my kids rooms to pack there clothes.  Tyrone and Dee stayed in the bedroom.  It was the loudest quiet I had ever encountered in my life.  I could hear the silence, and it was alive, screaming, dragging me to my knees.  But I fought to move forward and bear this weight, until I was somewhere, where I could be weak and vulnerable.  Now was not the time.  Besides who would be there to comfort me if I did right now.  Tyrone….Dee.????.

My emotions were unnatural to me. My movements were unnatural to me, as if everything were in slow motion, except my heart, which was racing so fast, I was sure they could hear it.  Still, it hadn’t settled in yet. Nothing felt real.  I had just caught my husband getting fucked in the ass. My husband was a bitch! My strong man whom I had looked to for support, and guidance, and dominance.  My man who was the firm hand in my life, my children’s life, my families life.  My man who my girlfriends envied me over, was nothing more than a faggot, getting his ass tossed in the air, by a man who was more man than him. He wanted him to cum on his face.  He asked for it.  He begged this man to fuck him harder.  To violate him and make him his bitch.  So what was I then?  If he wanted to be another mans bitch, then what the hell was I?  What depths had he reduced me too?

I left my kids room and walked back into the bedroom.  My husband and Dee were standing near the window.  Tyrone was afraid.  Dee was ashamed.  He kept his head down.  I simply walked passed them grabbed a few things and walked out.  I went into the next room which was where our closet was.  The closet me and my gay ass husband shared. Oddly I almost laughed when I walked in it.  That R. Kelly song ran through my head, “Come out of the Closet”.  Where the hell did this humorous thought come from with all this shit going on?  Maybe I was on the verge of lunacy, or maybe my mind was saving me by allowing me to have one happy thought. Maybe I was one evil thought away from killing him, so my mind was balancing me out.  Who the fuck knows! I grabbed a few things to get me through the remainder of the week.  My bitch ass husband made no attempt to comfort me. 

With my and my children’s things in hand, I quietly walked out the house.