FidèleChapter 10 free porn video

I’m so sore. Unable to rub the ache out of his protesting muscles, he settled for turning up the shower temperature until it was on the very edge of what he could withstand, hoping without much confidence that the excess heat would ease the pain shooting through his limbs. Three days of the most athletic sex I’ve ever had, and the price is that I feel completely spent after a relatively short run. I know I’ll never be able to bring myself to abandon her to go for a jog or a lift, but I’m going to be terribly out of shape if I don’t get at least a little platonic exercise.

The back of his hand accidentally brushed the side of his cock as he reached between his legs with a bar of soap. Though he’d done his best to ignore it, he’d been periodically erect for much of the morning; a condition that hampered his run almost as much than his aching limbs. Well, whatever. Every single moment with her is worth any possible physical cost.

After a brief, scalding rinse, he turned off the water, ran a towel over his reddened flesh, and exited the bathroom, drying his hair as he wondered just how much self-pleasuring would be required before he could concentrate on work.

“Awwww, that’s sweet. You miss me after all.”

Startled, Luke barely stopped himself from tripping as his towel dropped to the floor. Kathryn was sitting on the couch with an amused but unmistakably eager expression as she stared at his erection. She was also wearing an uncharacteristically modest casual ensemble, which was almost certainly for the best. After a few moments of detailed study of his swelling organ, however, she closed her eyes and turned away. “Could you please put something on? Boxers, a towel... anything.”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he teased.

“No, but it’s the first time I can’t do anything about it. Put on some clothes.”

He decided that he was feeling feisty. Horny is more like it. “I’m not the one stopping you, you know.”

“Luke,” she groaned, “please don’t make this har ... more difficult, I mean. Just put it away. For now. For me. Please.” Sighing, he picked up the towel and wrapped it around his waist.

“Okay, I’m decent.”

She turned back towards him and cautiously opened her eyes, only to be greeted by the bulge that tented his thick cotton towel. Exasperated, she buried her face in her hands. “Will you please...?”

“Alright, alright. Hold on.” The was a rustling sound as he tucked himself beneath the bedcovers. “There we go. Now you can’t see anything below the waist.” With well-justified skepticism she peeked through her fingers. While he’d spoken the literal truth, he’d neglected to mention that he’d also abandoned the towel. Visibly unnerved by the knowledge that he was naked, erect, and waiting in the very bed upon which they’d shared so much pleasure, she nevertheless decided to quit protesting and carry on with what she’d come to say.

“Thank you, I guess. Anyway, how did you sleep?”

“It wasn’t exactly the sleep of the righteous man, but I managed a few uninterrupted hours. You?”

“Better than you, I suppose, although still not very well. I was pretty exhausted.”

“Well, you put in quite a day’s work ... and that’s even before we got into the hot tub.”

“Luke, could you please just ... not?”

“Sorry. It’s ... I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“Thinking about it is fine. Talking about it isn’t.”

“Are you telling me that you have stopped? Thinking about it, I mean?”

She sighed, shoulders slumping a bit as she evaded his question. “I was hoping to gain strength from your resolve.”

“That’s a no, then.”

Shrugging, she attempted another change of subject. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For everything. I know it was a lot to take in, especially all at once.”

Fighting the urge to say something salacious, he decided to speak from the heart instead. “Thank you, but I know I didn’t live up to your expectations.”

“Luke...”

“No, you don’t need to placate me. When it comes to dominance and submission I’m well aware that I was in over my head last night. I need to learn more about it, and I promise to try.”

Relaxing enough to offer him a wry grin, she shook her head. “I have no complaints. You know, if you’re trying to seduce me into abandoning my resistance, you’re dangerously close to succeeding.”

He put up a hand. “Now it’s my turn to ask you to stop. Because I’m dangerously close to taking you up on that offer, despite my promise. No, no, I’m not going to,” he assured as a riot of emotions cascaded across her face, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

Intensely interested in some minute detail of the floor, she muttered, “I knew this would be difficult, but...”

“Thank you, I’m glad you agree. But Kathryn, trust me, I know I’m teasing you and I know I probably shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. It’s not just that we can’t have sex while ... well, you know. It’s that everything has to change. The way we talk to each other. The jokes we share. Even the way we look at each other. It’s ... okay, I’m going to stop avoiding the word: it’s hard to just change everything all at once. It’s not even like we’re going back to the way it was; we’re trying to recreate something that’s never actually been. I’m sorry for being so blunt, but I can’t imagine you’re not experiencing the same struggle.”

Her face was once again covered by her hands. “You have no idea. But Luke, even if every word you say is true, saying it out loud makes everything even harder that it needs to be. That’s why...”

“ ... we have to stop. I get it. So, one more thing about last night and then we can change the subject for good.” He ignored her reflexive wince and continued. “My insufficiencies aside, I really want to thank you for showing...”

She leapt to her feet and started pacing around the kitchen, waving her hand at him as if trying to ward off both his words and her anxiety. He noted with dismay that she’d deliberately put more physical distance between them. I guess it’s not the right time for that conversation, either. “Well, anyway, what’s on your agenda for today? More charity prep?”

Grateful for the respite, she nonetheless gripped the back of a chair for support, quite clearly struggling to keep her emotions in check. “Yes, or at least until late afternoon. Bill gets back around 6:30.”

His tone soured. “I’ll try to be elsewhere when that happens.”

Her eyes darkened in disapproval. “Luke, stop it. You’re never unavailable at that time of day, and trying to hide will look suspicious. You’ll almost certainly be invited over for a drink, you know.”

Great. “I know. I just ... can I at least get away with putting off socialization for a single day? I accept that he’s going to want to talk to me sooner or later. But even if ‘later’ only means tomorrow, can I at least manage that without setting off any alarms?”

Though she didn’t look particularly happy about it, she relented. “Fine, I’ll tell him you haven’t been sleeping well again. Might as well take advantage of the truth.” The internal conflict she felt was all too evident, yet she pressed on. “But tomorrow, whatever he asks, you have to do it.”

“I know. I will. And thank you.”

Their brief dispute resolved, she walked back to the sofa, paused, sighed, moved closer, and finally sat on the far edge of the bed, hands primly folded between her thighs. For the first time since they’d started bickering, he realized that he was still painfully erect.

“Luke, I need to tell you something. If I don’t, I’ll be wishing I had all day, and that’s ... bad, right now.”

Uh-oh.

“It’s not what you’re thinking. It’s good. But I can’t have it in the front of my mind. I want you to know that being with you, even though it’s only been a few days, is reawakening things that I thought I’d left behind or deliberately buried. Bill’s a good...”

Since she was obviously unable to complete the sentence, he solemnly supplied the rest. “He’s a good lover. It’s okay. You can say that out loud, and even if it upsets me I’ve absolutely no right to feel that way. He is your husband, after all.” That will never get easier to say.

“Right. Well, anyway, I’ve never had much reason for complaint, except that he’s not particularly imaginative or adventurous. I’ve done my best to guide and encourage, and I’ve had some success, but there are things I enjoy that I ... can’t. Not with him. Please don’t ask for details,” she cautioned when he appeared to be readying a question, “because I’m not ready to have that conversation with you, and I might never be. But I am ready to admit that I’m immensely grateful to you for reasons beyond the sheer number and intensity of the orgasms you’ve given me, and I hope that as long as we’re together, we can keep exploring; both the known and the unknown. I think you already understand just how important sex is to me, but the farther we go, the more you’re going to realize that what we’ve done so far is just the tip of a very large and not particularly safe iceberg. I hope you won’t get scared, or think that I’m...” Again she paused, struggling to wrestle a thought into coherency. “You make me want to be bold again. To be brave. To push my sexuality into dangerously exciting realms. I want to lose control, but at the same time I want to be controlled. I’m even ready to be depraved, which is something I haven’t allowed myself to be in a long time. But one thing I’m sure of is that I won’t be able to do any of it without you. Don’t answer now,” she interjected, silencing him with another wave of the hand. “Mull it over so I don’t have to.”

“And Luke,” she added, her expression earnest and (for the first time in a while) focused directly on him, “stop worrying about last night. You were cautious, but you were also wonderful. Holding back, no matter the reason, was the right choice ... because now I trust you even more than I did before. And you will have another chance. Soon, I promise. I don’t know when, but it will happen. My best advice would be to focus less on choreography and more on emotions. There are things I know I like but can’t allow unless there’s sufficient recovery time, so you’ll have to be creative. Anyway, you have at least a week to rise to the challenge.” As if suddenly uncomfortable with the intimacy and erotic promise of their conversation, she stood and retreated to the center of the room. Facing the far wall with her fists clenching and releasing, she once again implored him to be not just civil, but overtly friendly, with Bill.

“I will. I promise that I will. Anyway, I don’t really have a choice, do I? After all, he’s...”

“Your friend? The one and only innocent, if not strictly blameless, party in all of this? Yes, I’m all too aware.” To this, neither of them had any satisfying response, and so she straightened her shoulders and descended the stairs. The moment he heard the door click shut, he flung the covers to the side and began furiously stroking his cock. Only a few seconds later he was filling a hastily gathered handful of tissues with ejaculate ... a liquid breakfast he greatly preferred pouring directly into Kathryn’s thirsty mouth.

“Oh Kleenex, my oldest and most loyal friend-with-benefits, it looks like it’s you and me again. Do I need to buy you dinner? Take you to a movie? No? You’re only in it for the sex?” Sighing, he crumpled the sticky bundle of tissues and tossed them into the small bedside trash receptacle, then extracted a few more from the box. “I feel so used...”

How strange that this should already feel so wrong. Working alone — which was, after all, exactly what he’d expected to be doing until the current job was finished — seemed not only unacceptably lonely, but palpably oppressive now that Kathryn was no longer at his side. It took him a while to fall back into a solitary rhythm, but it was better than dwelling on his situation, and eventually he found the groove with which he’d started several weeks ago.

One wine-free and sinfully healthy lunch later, he was back at work. It was well past six when he finally decided to call it a day, but he still felt full of energy and wondered how he’d expend enough of it to wind down to a much-needed rest. He’d just finished tidying his workspace when he heard a knock on the apartment door.

That’s odd. Why would she need to knock? Readying a salacious quip, he opened the door.

He looks like death.

Indeed, Bill’s exhaustion — a fatigue of spirit well beyond the merely physical — was so shocking that Luke temporarily forgot to be anxious about this unexpected and unwanted reunion.

“Uh ... Bill? Welcome back. I ... I didn’t think that...” Good job. Quality acting. Incoherent stuttering will put him right off your scent.

Fortunately, Bill was too dazed to take note of Luke’s tension. “Thank you, son. I just got back and I’m already about ten minutes from total collapse. Kathryn told me you were a little tired yourself, but I just wanted to check in and see if everything’s okay. I’m sorry I’ve been away so long.”

He really does look like he regrets his absence. I suppose it’s a vaguely positive sign for my karmic wellbeing that, rather than dwelling on my own selfish desires, seeing him actually makes me feel worse ... as if I want to take his side against everything I’m doing. “You have responsibilities and every reason imaginable to be exhausted, so there’s obviously no need to apologize. As for me being tired, I keep waking up in the middle of the night in a fit of sneezing. Kathryn suggested that it might be a mild allergic reaction to something that grows out here, so she gave me some medicine that I hope will clear it it up. Meanwhile, the work’s going great and I’m enjoying every minute.” Lying with the truth is always an effective strategy. Here’s where, if things were different, I’d tell him what a great job his wife’s doing and how much fun I’m having working with her. But since I’ve no idea how to make that sound innocent, I’m going to avoid the entire subject. “I just hope you’ll be able to get some actual rest this week.”

“Don’t worry, I will. But before I fall asleep on your doorstep, I wanted to invite you to dinner tomorrow. Is six okay? I’m going to need early starts until I’m back on my feet.”

Well, there’s no talking my way out of it. “Yes, that sounds wonderful. Six it is. Want me to bring the wine?”

“Of course.” After a weak slap on the shoulder, Bill turned and wearily ambled away. Luke noticed that Kathryn was watching from their doorway. If her attention was divided between her husband and her lover, it wasn’t clear at this distance.

There’s nothing I can say or do to make this easier for her, save to let her know I understand just how hard this is. He put his hand over his heart, tapped his chest twice, smiled, nodded, and retreated to the safety of his apartment. She’d offered no sign of acknowledgement, but he knew she couldn’t even if she wanted to.

My wine ration’s going to get a workout tonight, but first I’m making myself a trough-sized gin and tonic. I need a serious drink.

Luke looked up from his laptop. Another knock? I guess it must be Bill again. Look tired, Luke. Look exhausted. You might even be able to worm your way out of dinner if you play it up enough. And now for the door...

“Hi.”

Even distressed and consumed by anxiety, she’s incredibly beautiful. I really want to gather her into my arms and comfort her, but...

“I said hi.”

“I heard you. Hi back. I miss y...”

“Stop it.”

“I can’t. I do miss you.”

“You have to. I mean it.”

Cold. “I’m sorry, I didn’t...”

“Shut up and listen. You’re coming over early.”

“And you seem just thrilled about it.” When she said nothing in response, instead continuing to bore a hole through his chest with her stare, he relented. “Okay, why?”

“We’re having afternoon cocktails by the pool.”

Christ. “I’m not sure...”

“I don’t care. You’re coming over. Bring dinner wines — I have no idea what we’re eating, so either bring a bunch or resign yourself to several back-and-forth trips — and a change of clothes. We’ve got the rest of the drinks sorted.”

“But...” She was already walking away. “Why are you angry at me?” he grumbled at her retreating back, but either she didn’t hear him or, as was more likely, she was purposefully ignoring him.

“If I fall asleep, which seems like it’s going to happen pretty soon, please don’t wake me until dinner.” Bill was dangling a half-finished Americano from his fingertips, endangering the sanctity of the patio with the possibility that he might grow tired enough to lose his grip on the sweating glass.

“Let me grab that for you,” Luke said as he extracted the cocktail from Bill’s hands and set it on a nearby table. “Kathryn, do you want another Negroni?”

“Yes,” she groused, having more or less mainlined her fourth cocktail in the last hour ... though it was also pretty obvious she’d started well before he arrived. Despite his own roiling tension, Luke was experiencing a growing sense of panic at the inexplicable and threatening emotions emanating from her. She was wearing a red variation of what he was beginning to suspect was the only style of bikini she owned. It didn’t quite match her hair, and as a result was the least appealing of the three he’d been lucky enough to see her wear, but it still covered so little of her exquisite form that he was unmanageably aroused whenever he was at her side. He was definitely surprised that she’d wear it in front of him with her husband present, but he kept that to himself.

For his part, Bill was clearly enjoying the opportunity to lay back and turn his mind off for a while. His eyes were closed, and Luke took the opportunity to study his rival for Kathryn’s affections. No, not rival. Husband. He has an actual claim on her. I’m the interloper. Despite long hours in the office and on the road, he’d somehow managed to keep himself in good shape, though the grey hair that metastasized the more he worked had long since spread across his chest. I know he’s disappointing her right now, but he’s a handsome man, and a good man, and I know both of them well enough by now to understand how she could fall in love with him. Whatever the future brings, if it ends up with them still together I’ll force myself to be happy for them.

The thought was a stiletto piercing his heart, but last night — tossing and turning in a pathetic attempt at sleep — he’d resolved to confront the reality of what he was doing head-on. The urge to evade or slink or hide is reprehensible and childish. If I’m going to deliberately fail his trust in such a devastating way, the least I can do is to try to live up to it in others. I need to face him, look him in the eyes, and feel everything that makes me feel. Even if — maybe especially if — what it makes me feel is awful.

Unfortunately, any chance for a relaxing poolside sojourn was being sullied by Kathryn’s foul mood. Nothing he’d said or done seemed to assuage or even contain her mounting rage, and as he delivered her fifth cocktail he knelt at her side, checking to see if Bill was watching or not before whispering, “Do you want me to leave?”

“Fuck off,” she hissed.

Completely taken aback — she’d never before treated or talked to him this way, and he still had no idea why she was doing so now — Luke stood, preparing to do just that. He was trying to remember where he’d put his dinner clothes when she grabbed his ankle. Tragic tears welled in her beautiful eyes, and she seemed like she was struggling to breathe.

“Luke ... please, please don’t go,” she whispered. “I’m so very sorry. I’m being an absolute cunt and you’ve done nothing to deserve it. I just don’t know what to do with all this anger.”

He sat down next to her; this time on the opposite side so he could keep an eye on her snoring husband “Can you at least tell me why you’re angry in the first place? Or if there’s anything I can do to make it better?”

“No, there’s nothing you can do. I’m paying a price I knew I’d have to pay sooner or later. But it’s so much harder than I imagined.” After checking to make sure Bill was asleep, she continued. “He’s ... well, ever since he got back, he’s been...”

“Apologetic? Attentive? Loving?” She needs me to be noble and wise right now, no matter how much it costs me. Now’s not a time for me to be a jealous lover. Now’s a time for me to be an understanding friend. “You want to be mad at him, but he’s doing everything in his power to make it up to you, and so you’re turning your frustrations on me because you can’t justify taking them out on him. Especially because you already feel guilty. Being mad at him is a way to excuse your choices ... but since you can’t be mad at someone who’s doing what he can to make things right, you’ve decided to be angry at the choices themselves. Which means being angry at me, because I’m one of those choices.”

Suddenly, her walls crumbled and the tension in her voice and body fell away. With a deep sigh she reached out for his hand, gripping it with fierce intensity, then letting go. “Luke, you already know me far too well. You’re absolutely right about almost everything. Here’s the one exception: despite the way I’ve been acting, I’m not actually angry at you, and I’m only a little bit angry about my choices. I’m not even angry at myself, or at least not in the way you probably think I should be. I’m angry because I’ve tried to feel all those things, tried to nurse them into a justified and righteous fury, tried to take that fury out on him, on myself, and on you ... but I just can’t. Because the truth is, the only thing I’m actually angry about is that I don’t feel as awful as I should. I thought he’d come back and I’d be shattered by shame and guilt, or that I’d finally confront him with just how much he’s endangering our marriage, or that I’d reconsider what I’m doing with you. Instead, I’m still just me ... the same person I was yesterday, the same person as I was a week ago, the same person I was before you met me. Nothing that’s going on between us seems to have changed that part of who I am. And what upsets me so much is that I’m no longer sure quite how to feel about that person. Anyway, I beg your forgiveness, and I’m deeply ashamed that you had to see me acting this way, much less be my undeserving target. I promise I’ll get it together, sooner or later.”

“Well, I’m obviously no teetotaling saint, but you might want to consider easing your way clear of the Negroni-fest. I brought a lot of wine, and the drunker you get, the more likely it is that you’ll...”

“ ... say or do something else that I regret?” In response to the look of concern that flashed across his eyes, she offered a half-smile. “Luke, you’re not a regret. You’ll never be a regret. Don’t worry. The only things I regret at the moment are entirely within my own head and heart. As for my current state of protective inebriation, you remain wise beyond your years. Could you fetch me an iced tea? And,” she took his hand again, “please say that you forgive me. This is just about as shitty as I’m capable of being, and I’d thank you to forget you ever had to endure this behavior.”

“Done and done. Let me get you that iced tea.”

In the temporary safety of the kitchen, Sevinay regarded him with silent amusement. He sighed, ostensibly searching the fridge for Kathryn’s beverage, but really just taking a few moments to realign the fraying threads of his equanimity. I can’t imagine how we’re going to get through dinner unscathed.

“I was too tired to ask you last night, but how’s it going with Kathryn? The work, I mean.” Luke was grateful for the quick correction, because his foot had started to shake uncontrollably. “She’s not distracting you or slowing you down too much, is she?”

Ignoring the peripheral tragicomedy of a morsel of food slipping from her quaking fork and falling back to her plate, he forced himself to stay focused on Bill. Isn’t overly intense staring supposed to suggest that someone’s lying? Maybe I should look away instead? Well, it’s too late. Don’t say anything suggestive. Ready? Here goes. “She’s been wonderful, of course. While I’m sure you’re used to it by now, it turns out she’s really good at everything she does.” The sharp click of tines against china as she stabbed the plate a little too hard didn’t stall his rush of words. Was that innuendo? It didn’t sound like innuendo. Did it? Was that Kathryn trying to get me to stop? Am I making it worse? He was desperate to interrupt himself and collect his thoughts with the assistance of a mouthful of wine, but Bill was still looking at him, waiting for the rest. What’s he hoping to hear? Does he suspect? I need to say something. Maybe get him to focus on her instead? “As for a being a distraction ... well, I don’t think there’s anything I could say on that subject that you don’t already know.” He could feel her eyes scorching the side of his face. Oops. Maybe that was too much.

If Bill took his words at anything other than face value, he showed no sign. Instead, he turned to grin at his wife. “Well, that’s true. Were I you, son, I’d count your blessings. I do remember what it’s like to work with her.” She was smiling back at him, but Luke thought he could see the strain in her eyes.

“Oh, I do. This week’s going to be a dull grey pit of loneliness by comparison.” In more ways than one. “Now, what do you think of the wine?” Thank god I brought a lot of it tonight. I bet I can use it to bail out of an uncomfortable conversation at least a half-dozen more times before it starts to look suspicious.

“If you’d told me I’d be drinking, and liking, an Australian chardonnay, I would’ve suggested that you pull the other one, though with somewhat more colorful language. Speaking of my talented wife, why aren’t you two doing your usual guessing game?”

“Because she’s already had it. It’s something I intended to show you for exactly the reasons you just mentioned, but when my friend Wendy was here she insisted that we drink it on the boat. So...” He paused, not wanting to say too much about what else happened on the lake.

“ ... so I liked it so much I asked him to order a case,” Kathryn interjected. “I assume that’s okay with you?”

Bill put up his hands. “You know I have complete faith in your judgement, and anyway you have a much better palate than I do. But are you sure you didn’t buy it because of the name?”

“You mean Luke Lambert? Now, Bill ... don’t fluff the young Master Sommelier’s ego more than it already is, or his head won’t fit through the door.” Uh-oh. She’s teasing me. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but she’s still pretty tipsy and I can see a lot of ways for this to go wrong.

Waving her off with a laugh, he retorted, “If anything’s going to keep me from passing through a doorway, it’s another helping of this risotto. It’s amazing.”

“You remember your little soliloquy about risotto a while back? Sevinay was listening, as you might remember, and she did this just for you. She also said that I should ask you what’s unusual about it ... though since she didn’t give me the answer, feel free to make something up. As long as it’s sufficiently authoritative and convincing, I probably won’t notice.” Now they were both gently mocking him, and though he offered a sheepish grin, he felt a little twinge in his guts at an easygoing bonhomie he couldn’t quite manage to share. They’re really such lovely people. In a different universe we’d all be good friends, and there would be nothing but happiness and satisfaction at this table. Maybe... His thoughts turned dark, as they did whenever he tried to peer into the uncertain future. Maybe, when this is all over, we can figure out a way to be just that. But that means I won’t be with Kathryn anymore, and I have no idea how I’ll ever be able to be happy about that.

“Well, considering how you’re both teasing me, I’m guessing false humility will be laughed out of the room, so I’ll admit that I do think that I know. But I bet you can figure it out, too. It’s a seafood risotto, obviously, but do you notice anything unusual about it?”

Bill poked at the rice for a few moments, but his insight didn’t arrive soon enough for Kathryn, who over-excitedly blurted out, “There’s no seafood!”

Luke nodded while Bill shook his head with feigned exasperation. “One day ... just one time ... I’d be really interested to find out what it’s like to not be a step behind her, all the time, in every damned thing.” Though his words were pointed, the affection behind them was clear, and Luke decided that the conditions were right for him attempt another compliment. I feel like I should get him used to me praising his wife. That way, if I slip and say something a little too gushing, it won’t stand out as much.