Again I lie awake in bed, the rickety wooden frame vibrating from his snores. He’s on his side, facing away from me, having slept peacefully for the past four hours. Even in the dark I can see the familiar lines of his body; the little bumps from where his vertebrae press against his skin, the back of the unkempt mop of dirty blonde hair he wears like a crown.

Another snore, enough to make my eardrums ache.

 I could reach out and run my hand over him, feel the little mole by his stomach, his sinewy back muscles and the tips of his ribs. I could run my fingers down his side, past his waist and down to the crotch I had grown all too familiar with in three years of marriage. After all this time, I still blush when I see him naked, when he smiles at me, when he looks deep into my eyes and tells me he loves me and my body fills with excited, nervous warmth. I could wrap my arms around him and press my body against his, feeling him against me, let the heat of his body warm me in the chill air of our house. But I don’t.

Another snore, this one throaty and with a bit of phlegm. I shut my eyes and roll on my side, trying to will myself to sleep. Though the attraction that brought us together in our youths was still there, his sinewy frame and boyish charm only growing more irresistable over the years, something else had vanished. It had been eight months since he became one of the mayor’s clerks, a job that paid far more than we had ever earned working on a ranch, and one that carried much more influence with it. But the town hall was far away, and we were apart more than ever. Times he would have to spend the night in town so he could work early in the morning were frequent, and when he did spend his time with me he was too exhausted to share any of the caring, sweet personality I had fallen in love with. He returned from the town hall, gave me a dry peck on the cheek, ate whatever I had managed to cook for the day and fell asleep. 

Another snore. My late night introspection has brought a few salty tears to my eyes, leaking out the corners of my shut lids as I bury my face in the pillow. 

Rarely did we ever make love anymore. When he returns to me, on those few nights he still has energy, we try. But far too often-and it makes me sob to think this, that it may somehow be my fault-my beloved can’t finish; his member turning flaccid before it can spend its load. He apologizes profusely, and I forgive him every time, but it’s myself I struggle to forgive. Have I been a bad wife if I cant even please my husband? Is it some lack of attractiveness or talent on my part that keeps him from climaxing? Is that part of the reason he stays away from home so often? The very thought evokes a sad whine. Our unions are so infrequent and so short I haven’t experienced my own climax in weeks, something I’ve promised myself I would save for him, and not selfishly indulge in while he’s away. I could only wish that we could find the time and the energy to enjoy each other again, to both release what had been pent up, both physically and otherwise.

I fell asleep bemoaning our lost intimacy, a few rays of sunlight just peaking between the trees outside, the unwelcome brightness burning my vision even through my eyelids.

I woke up late the next day, my usual sleep cycle thrown off by something. My husband had already left for his job, and I regretted last night’s self-pity. What he did was good for us, and I should only wish him the best. Regardless, I washed and moved to get changed, but when I returned to the bedroom I found my beloved standing there, as though he had never left.

He smiled, a broad grin full of affection and happiness, as though seeing me was enough to bring him ecstasy. A slim, smooth olive dress shirt with white buttons hugged his body along with a fresh, crisp pair of brown trousers, and a crimson scarf hung loosely about his neck. He held at his side a bouquet of white and pink flowers-winter cherry blossoms I think-that matched the excited blush on his face.

“Honey?” I asked, my hair still wet and in a mess beside my head.

“I thought you had work today, what’re you still doing here?”

His grin spread even wider as he walked-no, glided across the room, never taking his eyes off mine, those two orbs more full of fire than I’d ever seen them.

“I’m really sorry dear,” he said, slipping an arm around my damp waist, his touch sending my sensitive skin alight with sensation as he hooked his elbow around and pulled me in close.

“But I wanted it to be surprise! I talked to some coworkers, I got my position covered, for the day, all so I could spend it with you!”

He embraced me then, his thoughtfulness and affection making my heart swell. He ignored how the dampness of my skin wet his clothes, and held me tight, his arms interlocking behind the small of my back. He stood but a few inches taller than me, and the bridge of his nose nuzzled my forehead. His warm breath, which smelled odd, like swamp water or brine, gave my skin goose bumps from sensation and excitement, and I could feel the warmth of his body through his shirt. My breasts were pressed against his torso, his crotch against mine, and as if by instinct my leg raised up and I let him take my weight. Gone was the lethargy, the exhaustion that plagued my beloved for so long, and returned was the youthful fervor of our early days of love. 

“I want to make up for how I’ve acted these past months, a woman like you deserves better than me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” I whined, my fingers interlocking behind his head, running through his coarse blonde hair, my heart rate accelerating. We were so close I could feel his own heartbeat, and it seemed somewhat slower than normal. I wondered if he’d been drinking, or if my own excitement had made me misjudge.

“Don’t say things like that. I know you’ve been trying your hardest, doing your best for us.”

He sighed and fluttered his eyes, blinking them just so slightly out of sink, like an oversized frog, to make me giggle. He opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to decide better of it, as he then leaned his head in closer to my neck and took deep, powerful breaths, smelling me and exciting me further. His hands, his strong, dexterous hands, roamed my backside, one hand cupping my buttocks, eliciting a short gasp from me.

His lips, wet like he’d been licking them, touched my neck, and my eyes shut reflexively as he tenderly kissed, the tip of his tongue occasionally tracing the line of kisses he had made. 

My legs quivered with excitement and anticipation, my knees weak, and I gasped in pleasure as he kissed the bottom of my cheek, my face blush from arousal. My hands wrong through his hair, clutched at his shirt for purchase, to bring him closer, as if those scant few centimeters of proximity would make him love me more.

“I love you so much,” he said, as if on cue, “I wish I could just drop everything and spend every waking moment with you.”

I swallowed, my heart beating faster by the moment, his proclamation everything I dreamed about for these past months.

“I love you too sweetheart,” I began as his hand cupped my chin, “I wish we could too. I miss you so much when you’re gone, it drives me crazy.”

He chuckled and pressed in for a kiss, one which I was eager to return. His lips-wet, and a bit cold-against mine, his tongue slowly worming its way into my mouth, the feeling of his hot breath against my face, all drove me wild with love and arousal. His taste was practically unfamiliar, so long had it been since we enjoyed each other like this, but I didn’t care. This was my beloved, he belonged to me and I to him. His body was mine to enjoy again, liberated from the bondage of his responsibilities, returned to me like a present. I grasped, nearly clawed at his back, craving to feel him against me. 

He slowly withdrew from the kiss, leaving me panting and my eyes half-lidded, a thin string of drool connecting our mouths. My loins were practically soaked from our embrace, and the need within me swelled, my desire for him overwhelming me.

I looked up into those wonderful eyes, and slowly ran my hand down his shirt, popping the buttons off as I did so. He smiled at me, his hands resting on my shoulders, his body growing warmer and his breathing faster as I worked my way down to his pants. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” he said between excited breaths as I slid his trousers down to his waist. 

“All those nights without you honey, every one I’ve cursed myself for not being there. Every time I have to sleep in cold bed without you I…I…” he stammered as I wrapped my hand around his member, already at half mast.


“I know dear,” I said, my voice deep and needy, making sure my mouth was close enough that his penis could feel my exhalations.

Instead of saying anything further, I took his length into my mouth, savoring the salty flavor of his member. It had been too long, far too long, since given him oral, and I took the opportunity to make sure he enjoyed it. I leaned back so my body was beneath him, so that not only could he thrust down into my throat with ease, but I could cradle his testicles with ease. Gently at first, I suckled on him, savoring every fraction of an inch he gave me. I slurped on his penis, my lips forming a seal around it, working my head up and down his wonderful shaft. I grew more and more excited as he got harder and harder in my mouth; how much he craved me, desired me, and how his body reflected these desires all combining to excite me.

As I cradled his balls he wrung his hands through my hair, gasping as I stroked him, suckled on him ran my tongue along him, feeling his member swell from the pleasure I gave him. His hips bucked, thrusting into my throat, his pubic hairs rubbing against my face and his balls slapping against my chin. I shut my eyes and spread my mouth wide, letting him claim my mouth and throat as his own. He was never this energetic, this lusty, even when we had more time to ourselves, and it was the best I could do to grab hold of his rear and hold on as he pounded my face. I coughed for air as he pounded me, saliva mixed with salty pre dribbling from the corner of my mouth. I shut my eyes and swallowed some of the precum the taste deligting me after so many months without it. My loins practically gushing with fluid, and I had to practically push my ravenous husband away, lest he spend all his energy on my face and leave me unfulfilled.

“Oh my god,” I coughed as I disentangled myself from him, “if you can keep that pace up all day baby, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

He said nothing, picking me up by my arms and dragging me to the bed, keeping his eyes fixed on my flushed, amorous face. I crawled on hands and knees, offering my rear to him as he stood by the bedside, waggling it seductively as I could. 

“You’re amazing,” he said under his breath, placing his hands on my hips. “You’re so wild, so willing. I love that about you.”

“Thank you,” I gasped, “you say the nicest things.”

From my position I could  only see the front door, but I could feel his body against mine, his penis pressing against my ready, wet entrance. How satisfied his face looked I could only imagine, but mine contorted in pleasure as he slid in to me and I bit my lip as the pressure of his penis filled me. 

“Say you love me,” he said as he began to thrust forward, waves of warmth and pleasure washing through me each time he pressed into my sex.

“Say you’ll always be mine, forever and ever.”

He punctuated that with a powerful thrust into me, nearly causing me to lose my balance. Groans of enamored, animalistic pleasure overwhelmed me, and for a few hazy seconds rational thought escaped me, so great was the sensation of being bent over and railed by my husband. His hands slid up my back and gripped my shoulders, forcing my back to arch as he pressed in harder, his scrotum slapping against the outside of my sex. 

“Say it dear,” he grunted, hilting himself and still pressing further, causing me to cry in a mix of pleasure and pain. A great, hot pressure had built up inside me, and every one of my husband’s smallest motions inflating it and causing it to spread throughout my body. 

“I love you baby!” I cried, shutting my eyes and slowly rocking my hips to slide up and down his pole, quivers of physical bliss shaking me.

“I’m all yours! I’m yours forever, as long as you keep fucking me like this!”

That energized him, and he pressed against me, forcing my face against the bed as he rose up. A grunt of effort escaped his lips, and he began to thrust-no-to pound me, vigorously ramming himself to the hilt each time. I was ragged now; hoarse, uncontrolled moans of pleasure the only thing I could vocalize. Every thrust of his galvanized my adoration of him, my husband reclaiming me as his. Every powerful buck of his hips, every yelp of pleasure he drew from me, showed me how much he loved me, how much desire he’d suppressed over that long fugue.

My back arched and I cried out as I came, my vagina contracting and squeezing on his engorged member.

“Oh, please baby, give me more,” I whined, looking back over my shoulder at my husband, his eyes shut as he continued to pound me.

It was then that the front door opened. 

“What the hell?” I heard, in my husband’s voice.

My eyes went wide and I whipped my head around, even as I gasped and moaned from the intense pounding I was receiving. Hunched there in the doorframe, his eyes heavy with dark circles and his brow sweaty, was my husband. He looked aghast, his face pale and afraid, his bundle of work things dropped in a heap by his feet. 

“Who the hell is that?” He asked, pointing a quivering finger at his copy, who had not skipped a beat and was still thrusting into me from behind.

“You’re too late,” he said, curving a thrust up to reach my sensitive g-spot, a second mini-orgasm causing me to tremble, “this one belongs to me now.”

He stood up, pulling me with him. I was powerless to resist, and besides, why would I want to? This was the one I loved, the one that gave me the attention and the love I needed, the one I was married too, right? Whoever was before me must have been some imposter, or some figment of my pleasure-addled mind.

“Tell him honey, tell him what you told me,” he said as he hooked his arms behind mine, holding them like handles. He must have been very sweaty, because his skin felt slick to the touch, almost clammy. 

“Let go of my wife!” Screamed the apparition before me, whoever it was, straightening up and doing his best to look intimidating despite his boyish looks. He marched forward, his fists clenched and his face now a grin of jealous anger.

My husband-or whoever it was that was giving me such incredible pleasure- kissed my neck and pulled me closer, causing me to roll my head back and shut my eyes, forgetting the furious duplicate making its way towards me. If it was my husband, he would have seen my breasts pressed forwards, my body held by a continuous spasm of intense pleasure. I couldn’t help but cry out repeated indistinguishable moans, my hips moving of their own accord as I did so to match my lover’s pace.

The clothed double seized me around the waist then, forcefully pulling me from his opposite’s grip. I fell to the bed, still quivering with pleasure, my vision cloudy and unfocused as I watched the confrontation above me.

The one that had been making such wonderful love to me stood impassive, seeming larger and more muscular than he had when I last looked at him, his cock still erect and slick like a menacing weapon. The clothed one shouted something at him, something that the ringing in my ears made unclear, but the nude one smiled at it and seized him by the shoulders and pushed him to the ground. I wanted to cry out to tell him not to hurt him, but so far gone was I that it was impossible.

I felt a surge of unwanted emotion then; being fought over like a prized jewel by the man I loved, and whatever his opposite was. The one on the floor stood up, his expression dismayed, and held his fists up like he meant to strike.

“Honey, its me,” he said, his voice fearful and desperate, his eyes wild, “whatever that thing is you have to get away from it it’s dangerous!”

“Then why weren’t you here to protect her?” Said the unclothed, sweaty, beautiful copy, looking at me with proud, protective eyes. I felt safe then, that whatever my husband would do would be for the best, that he would do me no wrong.

“Why was she alone for another miserable day? Don’t you care about her?” He said.

“That’s none of your concern! Now get out of here before I lose my temper! Come on honey, I‘ll get you somewhere safe.”

He held out his hand to me, his sad tired eyes fixed on me. I met those eyes, and realized who I was looking at. He didn’t look at me like the nude one did; there was no fire, no love or affection in his eye. He saw me as his; as an object, something he had to protect not out of mutual love but out of possessiveness. 

I was looking at my husband.

“I’m sorry honey,” I said, slinking over to the erect phallus of whoever it was that had shown me such wonderful love, never taking my eyes off my true husband. Slowly, I ran my tongue up the length of his phallus.

“I belong to him now. You’ve never shown me love like he does, you probably forget I exist. If going back with you means you ignoring me every day for that damned job then forget it. He’ll love me every day, in ways you could never match. Now please, leave before he hurts you.”

“Like hell I will!” He shouted, lunging towards my lover.

The naked Adonis above me reacted with unnatural dexterity, it’s arm twisting at an unnatural angle to strike my husband upside the chin. He was forced back a pace, and came again, his hands raised above his head and his eyes wide with menace. He brought the blow down on my lover’s head, sending a strange ripple through his body.

Like a wave, it ran down him, changing him as it went. He became taller, thinner, almost sticklike, with pallid grey skin that glistened with mucus. His hands ended in long, many jointed fingers, and his eyes, his eyes were like the great yellow eyes of some amphibian; with a sideways pupil and no lids. The disturbing creature seemed unmoved by the blow, but it’s terrible strange eyes flitted independently from me to my husband and back.

For a moment my husband and I both stared petrified at the monster before us, before the ripple happened again and it reassumed the form of my husband. It turned its head around to face him and opened it’s mouth unnaturally wide, long dripping fangs like a serpent’s spontaneously shooting out of his maw.

My husband bolted then, fleeing out the door and leaving me and my lover alone, and as his form returned to normality I found myself questioning whether the exchange had even happened.

“I do love you my sweet,” said the doppelganger, caressing my cheek and lying by my side, running his other hand up my thighs. 

“More than he ever could, more than he ever did.”

Shameful thoughts raced through my head; the indignity of betraying my husband like that, of pettily throwing away our marriage vows for the pleasures of the flesh. But what I had said was true; he wasn’t the one that had shown me such tender love this morning. It wasn’t my husband who made me regret hating him last night.

Wordlessly, he entered me again, and I did nothing do resist, kissing him passionately as he resumed his conquering of my body. I gasped, and clutched at his back, the feeling of dirty defilement and treason heightening my lusts. It wasn’t just love that drove me on; I was doing something forbidden, something so wrong that felt oh so right. And I loved it; loved the smacking of his wet, inhuman crotch against mine, his wonderful caresses and kisses, everything. 

My legs locked behind him, and my back arched as I came again, crying out my husband’s name as I did. My dripping pussy clenched his member, and I felt it spasm. My cry continued as he emptied himself into me, a rush of warmth that filled me to the core.

As he disentangled himself, he came to rest by my side, his form slowly changing into the grey-skinned monster he truly was.

“You belong to me darling,” it said, though it had no visible mouth, “now and forever. I can be him, but I can be a thousand other men. You will never want for money; I can be kings and emperors, bankers and merchants. You won’t fear for safety; I can be a general or a knight, and I am as deadly as any warrior. And pleasure. Well, you’ve felt what I can do.”

I rolled to my side and looked the creature in its strange yellow eyes, seeing myself reflected in them. This was all happening so fast, so suddenly, but I had already reconciled with what fate I had chosen.

My lips pursed and I planted an affectionate kiss on it’s slimy forehead, taking a deep breath of its strange scent. It had made me into an adulteress, an unfaithful tart, an impure whore. I had betrayed the trust of the one I loved dearly, the one I had made vows to love forever and only. There was no going back.