The following is an excerpt from a story I wrote – what do you think about it?
The word echoed in the room just mere slices of seconds before I felt the sting of a hard slap in the face. My eyes started watering and it was all I could do not to strike back… and I knew that I shouldn’t.
The hand was coming again, this time in the form of a fist and while I had already decided that I deserved the slap, I wasn’t going to stand still for a punch in the face.
“That’s enough,” I said, grabbing my wife’s wrist in mid-swing, being careful not to cause any physical harm, especially after I caused so much emotional damage by getting caught in bed with my lover.
“How could you do this to me? To us?” she asked, tears of anger and frustration cascading down her cheeks. “And in our bed! You lousy bastard!”
“Kelly…,” my lover said from their position on the bed, their nudity partially covered by the sheets.
“Shut the fuck up! You’re just as guilty as he is! How could you do this to me? My own brother!” my wife screamed, her body shaking with pent-up rage.
“It’s not like you didn’t know I had a lover,” I said, my face still feeling the effects of the hard slap I received. “We agreed I could have a lover!”
“I don’t care!” came the sharp response. “I never said you could fuck my faggot brother!”
“Well, we never agreed on who my lover would be,” I said, regaining my composure.
“You fucking perverted son of a bitch,” Kelly growled, wrapping her arms around herself in an unconscious attempt to hold herself together.
I blinked at the use of the word ‘perverted;’ to be perfectly honest, I didn’t think having my brother-in-law as a lover counted toward any perversion I might have. I mean, yeah, he was family… but he wasn’t my brother. Sure, when Kevin and I decided to become lovers, it was something we talked about at great length and the implications were clear – but being two grown consenting adults, we threw caution to the wind in favor of our lust for each other.
That was two years ago. Kevin and I weren’t what either of us would call an item; it wasn’t as if we’d go out on dates or anything like that although we did hang out once in a while – other than the times we made love, that is. I knew that Kevin wanted to be more of a presence in my life; I had found that I felt the same way but there were some very obvious reasons why that couldn’t be realized.
“Right now, I need you to tell me why, Shane,” Kelly said, looking at me with red-rimmed eyes.
“Why what?” I asked, genuinely puzzled. “Why fucking in our bed? Or why Kevin?”
“Both, asshole,” she growled in reply. “You can at least explain this shit before I divorce you!”
Like I’d never heard her say that before…
“I thought you said you didn’t want to be bothered with, how did you put it, the gory details?” I asked.
“Just answer me, faggot!” she shouted, causing me to recoil at her words.
“I resent that,” I said, feeling my own temper starting to flair. “And you didn’t seem to think I was a faggot when I fucked you last night!”
I had the satisfaction of watching her recoil for a change; she knew I was right, too, because we could both easily recall the noise she was making as I did her in the very same bed I just got busted in. It didn’t make me any less guilty – but it was a proper payback for being called a faggot, something I never was.
“Why don’t you sit down before you fall down?” I suggested, noticing that my wife was starting to wobble a bit. I knew explaining myself in this wasn’t going to be easy – but it would be better if she didn’t pass out or something and fall flat on her face.
“That’s not going to change the way I feel right now,” she said, carefully moving until she was able to sit on the bed.
“Maybe not, but it’s better than lying on the floor,” I said, taking a seat on the bed as well; Kevin moved his feet to give me room to sit – but to also be out of Kelly’s reach. Once seated, the room got very quiet save for the sounds of our breathing and it gave me some time to think about the predicament I found myself in.