I’m not sure I understand your critique. You had a hard time with the fact he went home to his wife? Cause it wasn’t really meant to be a story about reminiscing over a lover, but about an affair and the effect it has on his life and marriage.
Any elaboration would help, thanks.
Short Story / Aftermath
The line of her body was soft and fluid across the bed. My eyes caressed the curve of her waist, and neck and gently poured over her legs as they stretched and stretched over the sheets. The half moon silhouette of her breasts drooped ever so slightly toward the bed into lovely smiles that seemed sweet and young. The memory of my mouth closed over her nipple flitted ever so quickly across my mind and for a moment awakened a desire to take her again.
Her dark hair hung across the pillow, in stark contrast with the white sheets that were a rumpled mess. Her stomach and chest rose and lowered softly with sleepy breaths. Her lips were still dark and wet from hard, hungry kisses. I thought of those last few moments; of her hips lifting up to meet each thrust, her nails in my back. We moaned into each others mouths and pounded on and on almost endlessly, wordlessly.
I thought of how different she was from my wife, and swallowed hard. I would have to get home. Soon. I walked to the bathroom and checked to make sure there was a hairdryer before stepping into the shower. It was steaming hot, hotter then I liked, but I wanted to be clean. I picked up the soap, but put it down when I decided that it would be just as suspect if I smelled like soap. I just sat under the water, turning it up to a mild scald. I picked at a black chunk of grease under my nail, and looked at the hundred tiny cuts all over my hands and fingers that I received every day at the machine shop where I worked. My wife hated them; they scraped at her skin as I drew my hands across it. I thought more about my wife. She had gained a lot of weight these last few years. I had asked for a family, I can’t blame her entirely. But I had already been sleeping with the same woman for years, and suddenly it had been changing so much for the worst. Her once taut belly now thickened her entire waist, adding a pouch that was like a soft bowl of bread dough. I thought of her ass, once heart shaped and sweet, now widened and drooping. I told myself at first the ass was okay, it jiggled oh so gently when smacked and I was always an ass man. But there’s only so many times you can smack a huge ass and tell yourself its sexy. Her breasts were small and flattened. She had love handles and saddlebags and a double chin when she wasn’t smiling. She had gained at least fifty pounds in three years. Our children’s bodies may be healthy and lithe, but I could only forgive her that effort for so long. I take that for granted now, I thought as my scalding shower quickly changed to lukewarm.
I stepped out onto the linoleum and could barely see my garbled reflection in the foggy mirror. I dried my face, and never wanted to take it out of that towel. I lingered there a moment, soaking in my situation. It had been just what I needed. I had started at a bar with my friends, listening to a band, talking, laughing, maybe flirting. I progressed to my car, fogged windows, pushing panties aside and effortlessly slipping my fingers into an eager young woman.. We managed to drive to the Embassy Suites, and clamor into the glass elevator toward her room. I remember her legs wrapped around my waist in the elevator as I pressed her back against the glass, kissing hard, grinding my dick into the crotch of her soaked underwear. Suddenly we were in her room, at the end of the bed. Panting, desperately tearing each other’s clothes away. That whole night seemed a single moment, and suddenly I was inside her, and there was no time to think, to regret, to stop myself. Hell, a freight train couldn’t have stopped me. Worries were gone then, there were just no problems. There was no “ignore the cellulite” thoughts, this ass was perfect to me. I grabbed at it as I slammed into her from behind. Her breasts were perfect, perky, and I mouthed them over and over. I wasn’t having to grip at my dick to maintain some semblance of an erection because the woman I was screwing was both overweight and boring. With my wife I was happy to even be able to come, with this woman I held it back again and again. But the thing that was the most different, that was so important, was what this woman felt like from the inside. A snug fit; tight and clenching. It enveloped me and held me there. It had not been a passageway for life, a tunnel both miraculous and yet simply used. It was not stretched and slack. It, thus far, had been for fucking alone. And I took that use seriously for over an hour, bringing her to climax and myself to the brink over and over again. And as we finally fell to the bed, spent, my heart pounding out of my chest, I just wanted to stay there. To curl into the nape of her neck and fall asleep. But I thought the better, and stood.
And now here I am, and where do I go from here? My wife’s smile grazes my thoughts, haunting. I love her so much. Why did I do this? All the other stuff seems so meaningless now as I think of losing her and our family. All the firm tits, tight pussy crap seems so useless and trite. I dry my hair with the towel with another too-small hotel towel. I just want to be home now, to collect my thoughts and make this go away. From the other room, I hear my cell phone ringing in my pants pocket. I hurry out the door and across the room and scoop it up to see my wife’s name across the screen. I wasn’t sure what to do, should I answer, and lie, in front of this woman? Should I let it go to voice mail and leave my wife suspicious, leaving a message or calling again?
”You gonna answer that?” The woman asked, smirking.
”Me? I-no. Its just a friend. They probably just figured out I wasn’t at the bar.” I laughed a small, fake laugh. She propped herself up on her elbows as the phone stopped ringing, and smiled.
” Do you want a drink?” She asked.
”Oh, no. I’m okay. I should probably get going. Its pretty late now.”
She shrugged, and stood, and walked toward the mini-fridge. Her movements seemed playful, her legs long and slender. As she leaned over into the fridge, sifting through tiny bottles for her preferred liquor, her ass was in the air, and her perfectly groomed, still glistening womanhood peeked ever so slightly out. I felt my penis stir, but shook the thought out of my head. I turned my back to her, avoiding the urge to look at the beautiful lines of her body. I opted to reach down and pick my boxers up off the carpet, and pull them on. I thought of my wet hair, and returned to the bathroom and blew it dry. As I walked into the main room again, she stood there, just looking at me, smiling coyly.
”What?” I asked, trying to seem ignorant. She was unfooled.
”You’re really leaving so soon?” she asked.
”Yah, I-uh, you know, its pretty late. I gotta be up kind of early.”
”You work Sundays, do ya?” She asked, smirking. She began to walk toward me, so I walked toward another side of the room.
”No, well, ya know, I have to help my brother move.” But she would not be put off. She came up behind me as I reached for my pants. I straightened quickly, and turned.
”I know your married.” She said, rubbing her body against me ever so slightly, the points of her nipples brushing against my chest. “I don’t care. I’m not looking for a relationship, you know. I just want to have fun, and you were fun.” She put a hand to my ass. “You don’t have to try to lie to me… But, really, what’s another 20 minutes gonna do?” Her other hand slid across my boxers and cupped my growing dick. She raised her head and kissed me. I kissed her back; afraid, but just as hungrily. I was quickly losing will power. I pulled her body to me, the flat of her tummy pressing against my erection. I groaned and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her harder into me and moving her toward the bed. She laid against it, and as I began to slip my boxers back off, eager to penetrate her again, my phone began to ring.
”Oh, I can’t -I have to-” I rose and answered the phone this time, my erection still throbbing.
”Hello?” I answered, trying to sound normal.
”Hey! Are you having fun?” She was unsuspecting.
”Yah, I was just getting ready to come home.”
”Oh yah? Its quiet, are you in the car already?” she asked, still unknowingly.
”Yah. I should be home in… maybe an hour.” I felt like she could see my dick through the phone. Like the naked slut on the bed was too obvious and would travel via satellite to her line of vision.
”Okay, well I really just wanted to see if you would get milk on your way home so we can have some for breakfast in the morning.”
”No problem!” I said; too nicely, too enthusiastically.
”Okay, see you in an hour. I love you.”
”You too.”
”Bye.”
”Bye.”
As I closed my phone, I didn’t want to turn around. My erection was quickly withering. A realization was coming back to me and I doubted a hot bitch on the bed would take it away: I was an asshole. No, strike that, I was a total and complete son-of-a-bitch of an asshole. As my kids slept softly in their beds, my wife having gently tucked them each in and kissed their tiny heads goodnight, I was at a hotel banging some tart I met at the bar. As my wife smiled at home about the fun “boys night out” that I was having, eager to hear the details when I return home, I was pounding someone else. A woman who hadn’t earned my respect with years of strength that had kept me, our whole family, safe and afloat. A woman who hadn’t birthed me a strong healthy son and a beautiful daughter. I turned to pick up my pants again, trying to avoid the sight of her. As I reached to pick them up, she pulled herself to the end of the bed and let her crotch rest in my line of vision, giggling. I tried to ignore it, smiling, but as I stood she put an ankle on my shoulder. I looked her in the eyes, which was my first mistake. She looked hot. Coy and flushed.
”Please?” She swooned.
”Please what?” I asked, trying to be rude.
”Just once more, and you can get back to wifey.” She teased.
”I don’t think-” She cut me off.
”Don’t think…” she said, raising from the bed and gently pulling the pants from my hands and letting them drop back to the floor. My erection began again, betraying my good intentions. She gripped it, and began to kiss me hard, pulling my hand down to help me find her dripping wet again. I wondered if knowing I had a wife waiting for me at home turned her on. She moaned as my finger fell inside her, and began to pull me down to the bed again. My dick was so hard, so eager, that it hurt. I slid inside her slowly, filling her over and over, but wrenched myself free suddenly and scooped my clothes up from the floor. I walked quickly to the bathroom and locked the door.
”What are you doing?” she asked a little angrily; irritated, confused.
I didn’t respond. I hurried out the door and just as quickly exited the hotel room. I tied my shoes in the elevator, and was in my car and driving before I’m sure she could even have gotten dressed. I had to go home. I wondered a little as I drove and the ache of my ignored erection waned, if I shouldn’t have just fucked her again. The level of guilt I felt was overwhelming, I would probably never do this again. That may have been my only chance to fuck another woman, should I have done what I had wanted so much to do but knew was wrong? I was already an asshole, how much more of an asshole could another screw have made me? I turned the radio off and listened to the hum of the tires against the highway. I tried to think about what to do. Would my friends rat me out? Would they tell a friend who tells a friend who tells my wife? Should I just fess up? When? It seems distasteful to come straight from fucking to telling her that I fucked. Should I wait a week? A year? Maybe if I waited a year, it would make a difference by showing her that it was a one time occurance. That it would never happen again. Would it? Now that I know how good the rush is, would I have any will power next time? Is a cheater just a cheater? Jesus, I’m a cheater. My whole family is gonna fall apart and it’s gonna be all on me. I thought of my wife’s smile again. God, I love her smile. Her whole face just lights up and it makes you want to smile. I thought of making love to her. Of how even though she felt different and looked different she still knew all my buttons and how to push them and push them until I feel like I could explode. How she liked it rough, and soft. How on just the right day she could go down and I didn’t need anything else in the world but that. To see her beautiful face and watch her take it all in. How such little things made her happy, like when I opened her car door, or told her she was sexy. The huge smile she got when I finally proposed. I cried for the rest of the drive. I cried for her, and our marriage and our kids and for ever having hurt any of it for a good lay.
As I pulled into the driveway, I saw the lights were still on. Odd, I thought. She’s usually in bed when I get home from a late night out. I walked up to the door and unlocked it. I slipped in quietly and locked it again behind me. The house was silent and still. I walked by the empty kitchen, and was about to turn the lights off when I saw the cordless phone on the floor, broken apart. I quickly turned the lights off and walked out, beginning to fear for her. Had someone broken in? Was she hurt?
I walked past the dining room, also empty, and into the living room where I found her on the couch crying. She was wearing her pale pink satin bathrobe, and her hair was cascading from a messy ponytail. She looked pretty despite the tears.
”Are you okay? What happened? How did the phone break?” I asked in rapid succession. She stood, wiping her face quickly, and then smiled very slightly.
”Nothing, I’m fine.” She said, but her smile was gone and her face read anguish.
”What happened to the phone?” I asked again. She didn’t answer, but with the same unsmiling face, she wrapped her arms around me, pulling herself to me hard. It might have been sexy, if she didn’t look so desperate and if tears weren’t still all over her face. “Honey?” I asked again, disturbed. I swallowed hard.
” Where’s your cell phone?” She asked. My heart sunk. I paused, too long.
”I must have left it in the car.” I said, not too calmly.
”In the car?” , she asked a bit shrilly. I nodded. “No!” she screamed, “Not in the car! Its not in the car! You know where it is?” she was frantic now, pushing my chest, “It’s at the Embassy Suites hotel, you asshole! Its in the Embassy Suites hotel in the same room as the girl you fucked tonight. The same girl who was in the background when I called asking you to bring home milk!”
Terror shot through me. Never before have I wanted to defend myself and kill myself simultaneously. I wanted to run, to throw up, to hide. I couldn’t look at her. Her anger turned to hurt. She begged me to explain it, but I couldn’t. How can you tell a woman that you owe so much that you broke it all because sex with her was like a chore. That its something done quickly, and only because its more entertaining than masturbation. That this woman was sexy and young and tight and I’ve never fought with her over the bills or how much I work. You can’t and you don’t.
She looked awful, her face contorted in pain. Tear stained, swollen. I reached out to touch her, to comfort her, and was thanked with a hefty right hook to the left eye. I let it land, I deserved it. We did that all night, my wife and I. It was all a blur. Anger, hurt, resentment. When she finally left me to go to bed, I curled up on the couch with my knuckles to my eyes and mulled it all over. How her whole life was this family. She was the stay at home mom she had dreamed of being, but now it must have felt like a trap. I thought of all the times she had sacrificed to make me happy. I fell asleep and dreamt that she hung herself in the bathroom, and woke up screaming. The Embassy Suites called and left a message that they had found my phone in one of their rooms and I could come retrieve it. My kids woke up walking on eggshells. They had heard the fight, they had heard the bad words and anger even if they couldn’t understand the topic at hand. They quietly played, and curled up to me on the couch.
”Daddy, what did you do?” my little boy asked.
”I’m not sure yet, buddy… Nothing good.”
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maddenlaw reviewed Version 1 -
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Wow, ths is damn good. I like the way the protagonist starts out being impressed with the woman, justifying his actions because his wife gained weight, then realizing he had done something wrong, then actually idolizing his wife in his guilt. I thought the scene where he realized he was caught was telegraphed a bit, however. I would have preferred it if he came home, heard her crying, then agonized over what it was about for a while. You know, the old “I hope I’m not caught,” thing. I think the piece could benefit from some line by line editing. There may be a over use of active voice at times which disrupted the rythm of the story. For example:
I picked up the soap, but put it down when I decided that it would be just as suspect if I smelled like soap. I just sat under the water, turning it up to a mild scald. I picked at a black chunk of grease under my nail, and looked at the hundred tiny cuts all over my hands and fingers that I received every day at the machine shop where I worked.
Might read better if more passive voice were mixed in from tme to time:
I picked up the soap, but immediately put it down, deciding it would be more suspect if I smelled squeaky clean. Standing under the showerhead, I turned the water up to a mild scald and studied the hundred tiny cuts all over my hands that I received every day from machine shop where I worked.
Also, there were a few items that I felt cold be left out of the story altogether. For examle, the grease under his fingers, and other small things that didn’t seem to add much to the story.
Overall, I thought it was excellent and merely in need of some editing before submitting it for publication.
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Spunkles reviewed Version 1 -
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Your use “Ever so” it two back to back sentences at the begining. It would sound better if you were to change one of htem to something else.
“I dry my hair with the towel with another too-small hotel towel.” You might want to take out “The Towel” and just keep the “too-small hotel towel”
I must say I enjoyed it and I thought it was quite good. I would say a decent chance of getting it published. I would have gladly read this for plaeasure and not ust to review. Good work.
Good_Monica reviewed Version 1 -
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First of all, oh my God!
And it isn’t because this story has been written a thousand times, it’s the WAY you’re writing it.
I love the first person point of view and I love the words you use to describe how the man feels.
We don’t even know any of the character’s names, which I think is a creative way to write a piece.
What I want to know is, where’s the rest? It’s an excerpt from a novel you’re doing, right?
I was seriously hooked and then it ended!
My favorite part is where his wife confronts him and he starts thinking about how he wants to kill himself and defend himself and run or throw up! That’s great. I can remember times when I felt just that way!!
A few problems are just grammar and mechanics. Nothing major and definitely not enough to deter me from reading your work.
Review quotes. A lot of writers mess up on them. I do it all the time. Also, there’s a sentence where the girl in the hotel says “I know your married.” Change that to “I know you’re married.”
Other that that, I think it’s a great piece and I would love to read the rest of it.
Thank you for reading my review!! :}
OweFiresRight reviewed Version 1 -
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I was having trouble following the end, after reading what seemed like a nice reminisce over a lover I think you lost me .
There were a few past/present errors, and I am sure that if you send this through word then you will be ok. I related to your thoughts on this, and I think that if it gets cleaned up then I would pay to read it.
solarflare reviewed Version 1 -
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This is very well written. The descriptions create a vivid picture when one reads it and flows along smoothly. I like how you have the husband getting pleasure from being with and looking at the girl, and then feeling very guily about it. It makes him seem very human. He has faults and makes mistakes that he regrets once he has finished with the girl. Then he almost makes the mistake again and starts with her again but makes his mind up and gets out of there. Very real and believable.
I can see how he thinks about not really wanting to be with his wife since she has gained weight, but then reasons that sex is just one part of it and the rest really isn’t worth losing just to have a fun night with a stranger. I like this part. He still loves his wife and is of sound enough mind to remember all the good aspects of her.
One thing I wasn’t sure about was when he got home and his wife freaks out and says she heard the woman in the background. That part wasn’t totally believable because you didn’t give any dialogue to the woman while he was on the phone. If you just rewrote the phone part and had the woman do something, like laugh or try to talk to him or something, then it would make more sense. That is the only part I would change. I liked how the woman tried to get him to have sex again after the call and he almost went with it. It showed some weakness and how hard it is to think straight in that kind of situation. Then he got his head thinking clear and finally made a good decision. A very human and realistic character. I would like to read more if you plan on writing more to this. Just let me know. Thx.
MoJoe reviewed Version 1 -
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~ Wow.
~ You are in your character’s head perfectly. You nail how he thinks. It’s a perfect dissection of an affair.
~ In fact, it’s too perfect, now that I think about it. The way he regards the fling in the materialistic sense, comparing her and his wife like he’s shopping for a car…it’s almost stereotypical.
~ Still, a damn good story.
March 09, 2007
Deleted User
Review of Version 1 -
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WOW, I went from being completely turned on by the bed scene, to hating him, to being turned on again, and then feeling bad for both of them. This is such a real life situation. I truly enjoyed reading it, its just too bad it ended already. I would have liked to read further into their lives, what happened next. Great piece of writing.
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