EroticReverie

Jackson 

It’s five after six when Peyton comes down the stairs her gown lifted in her hand. I forget how to breathe when I see her. The white stain gown falling over her body, the draped neck that shows off a touch of her perfect cleavage. Her white strapped heels click against the stairs as she flashes me her perfect smile. 

I came home and fucked her over the table in the foyer, fucked again on the stairs and a third time in our bed. My guilt for what had happened in the office, driving me to fuck her harder than ever. To remind myself of the perfection that is my fucking wife. To remind myself my cock belongs to her and only her. 

“You look perfect.” I say with an exhale as she reaches the last stair and I take her hand and she smiles. 

“It’s the white , isn’t it?” She smirks playfully. 

“No, wife. It’s just you.” I say. Meaning it.

“My makeup” she leans back as I go to kiss her. 

“Fuck your makeup” I growl and grab her throat and push my mouth over hers. Her pulse beating against my fingers and hold her neck and she moans on my mouth. 

I wanted to tell her about what happened. But I knew what it would do to her. To us. I couldn’t. I’d fucked up and had a lapse in judgement. I was already plotting for ways to get rid of Natalie. To keep her from me. Already called and was having her replaced and her moved to another secretary position in the building. It’d be handled by the end of next week. I couldn’t tell Peyton. Because I had no excuse for what I’d let Natalie do. No excuse for the way I’d looked at her and wanted her this afternoon. I hated myself for it. Hated myself for being unfaithful to Peyton. For letting a woman’s clothes be the reason I disrespected my own fucking wife.  I’m not proud of it. Not in the least. Not proud for how I’d jerked off to the vision in my head of Natalie’s ripped skirt and her bouncing on my cock in that blouse and ripped pencil skirt. Not proud of how I’d imagined her on her knees sucking me off with her inviting mouth. Not proud that it was more than just the outfit that had made me hard. 

“Someone’s horny tonight” Peyton teases as she pulls back. “Didn’t you get enough of me earlier?” She smirks and then grabs my hand. 

“I never get enough of you. Ever.” I say and then walk her outside to the car waiting for us. 

Things have been so good these past few weeks. After those two months of hell. So why the fuck was it that I’d lost control of myself AFTER I’d fucking fixed things? Why was I eye fucking another woman when I had Peyton? Peyton. Fuck. If I lost her I don’t know what I’d fucking do with myself. I’d hurt her today. Doesn’t matter if she doesn’t know about it. I’d promised her I’d only ever have eyes for her and I’d gone and let Natalie sit on my fucking lap, grind her ass on me in that tight white skirt. My cock hardens as I sit beside Peyton , her hand in mine. I was getting hard for another woman with my wife’s hand in mine and I hated it. 

When I fidget slightly and adjust my pants , Peyton looks over and down to my lap. 

“You like the dress that much?” She smiles and reaches over with her hand, and I grab it. 

“Not right now” I smile softly. 

Her brows pinch. “Why not, I want to take care of you?” 

How do I tell her it’s because I don’t want her taking care of a cock that’s hard because of another woman? I don’t. That’s how. 

“If we start. We won’t stop. Not with you in that dress. When we get home. Later.” I say and lean over and kiss her mouth. 

“I’ll be quick” she says and reaches again for my cock. 

“Peyton. No” I say and grab her hand and her brows pinch. 

“I’m really trying NOT to be crazy Jackson, but what the hell is going on?” She says and she angrily pulls her hand from mine and glares at me. 

“Nothing.  I just told you, I’d we start-“

“Bullshit. That’s bullshit.” She says cutting me off. 

“Since when do you ever tell me no?” She asks as she glares at me. 

She right. I’ve never said no to her. Ever. I’ve let her tell me no. Of course. But I’ve never not taken the opportunity to have her. 

“I’m just , stressed alright?” I say and she narrows her eyes. 

“About what?” She crosses her arms and shift angling her body away from me. 

“Nothing that concerns you.” I say. Lying to my wife for the first time. 

“I think it very much concerns me. Since you’re my fucking husband. Why don’t you want to tell me?” She asks and my palms fucking sweat. 

“Can we please not do this right now?” I sigh and rub a hand over my face. 

“Is it that bitch?” She bites out and my eyes go to her. 

“Peyton. We’re not doing this right now.” I say. 

“You told me I had nothing to worry about!” She says , tears filling her eyes. 

“And you don’t. Stop it.” I say through my teeth. 

“It’s her. It’s her isn’t it? She’s why you won’t let me touch you?!” 

“Peyton. This isn’t the time.” I say. 

“Did you fuck her?!” She screams and put up the partition when the Peyton’s angry cry draws the drivers eyes to the back. 

“No. I did not fuck her.” I hiss at her. It wasn’t fair for me to be mad at Peyton. But I was. 

“Then what? What happened? Did you kiss her?” She asks her voices cracks. “Did you touch her?” She cries. 

“I didn’t not fucking kiss her.” I bite out. 

“So you touched her?!” She screams.

“Peyton. Calm down.” I glare at her. 

“YOU DID !” She shrieks. “You fucking touched her!!!!” She says and slaps me right across the face. I don’t grab her hand as she winds it back to slap me a second a time.  A third. I deserve every single one of them and she cries when I don’t stop her. Because I always stop her. If she has no reason to hit me. I stop her. 

“I fucking knew it!!!” She screams as she slaps the shit out of me again and again. I wince and take each slap as my wife goes crazy and calls me every fucking name in the book while slapping me. 

“You fucking bastard!” She sobs and slaps me again. 

“I knew it!” She cries. “I fucking knew it!” 

“Tell me what the fuck you did with her!” She screams. “Tell me right now!” 

“Tell me!” She screams and she pushes and shoves at me and keeps hitting me. 

“Tell me you fucking bastard! I hate you! I hate you!” She screams and then turns and grabs the door handle. 

“Peyton!” I yell as the door opens while the car is moving and grab her around the waist hard as my heart races. 

“JESUS CHRIST PEYTON. WHAT THE FUCK?!” I growl angrily and pull the door shut and slam it hard and pull her to me , wrapping my arms around her as the car comes to a stop on the side of the road. 

“Let me go!” She shrieks and thrashes against me. 

“Let me go!” She screams when I just hold

Her tighter. 

“I can’t” I growl. “I can’t fucking let you go”

“I hate you!” She cries. 

“I’m having her removed from my office.” I say. Letting her know I’m taking care of it. 

“Fuck you! I don’t care! Go ahead! Fuck her! Touch her and fuck her all you fucking want? Get your god damn hands off me!” She shoves at them and then is pushing open the door as cars drive by and I dart out as Peyton run into the fucking road. 

“PEYTON!” I yell as a car blares it horn and pull her back to me by the arm and throw her against the car as she sobs and I grab her face. 

“Look at me! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOURE DOING ?! ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF FUCKING KILLED?!” I yell at her. 

“YES!” She screams right back and fights against my hold. 

“YOU MAKE ME WANT TO KILL MYSELF!” She screams at me and my heart fucking shatters. 

“Baby please don’t say that” I say as a lump forms in my throat. 

“How could you?” She sobs. 

“How could you do this to me!?” She goes weak and her legs collapse and grab her before she can fall to the ground and pull her against me. Holding my arms around her and holding her up. 

“Peyton. I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. But I didn’t….I don’t fucking know…but nothing…” I couldn’t finish my words. I couldn’t tel her nothing happened. Because something did happen. Not much by some standards, but too much by the ones I’ve always held myself to when it came to Peyton. 

“I’ll tell you….okay? “ I say and she shakes her head. 

“Fuck you Jackson, I want a divorce” she says and I shake my head. 

“No you don’t”

“Fuck you! I do!” She cries and still let me hold her against me and her hands and clutches so tightly in my tux jacket at my back. 

“I hate you” she cries. “I don’t want to be your wife anymore”

“You’re not leaving me” I tell her. 

“Yes I am!” She cries against my chest as I hold her. “I’m leaving you this time” 

“No you’re not Peyton” I say. 

“Youre a bastard” she cries. 

“I know” I whisper and she cries harder and doesn’t let go and I close my eyes. 

“I can’t live without you” I whisper to her. 

“Tell me what you did with her” she pushes me away. Getting angry again. “Tell me what you fucking did!”