Chapter Ten
T hey kept her a bit longer than they planned, Woods told her. This was after she’d been laid flat on the floor, wearing Wood’s mask as the wand continued to torture her, letting the men cum all over the mask.
The ride home, which she’d been dreading, was just as eventful as the ride to the hotel. Woods made the others sit in the front, and he and Essie laid in the back like teenagers hiding from their parents. They laid on their backs while the road bumped and jostled beneath them.
Woods took a deep breath, as if preparing for a speech. He handed her a card, a white one. It was for the hotel, but on the back, he’d scribbled a phone number. “You’re annoying,” he said, “and I don’t really know how a relationship between us would work, or if you’d even want one, but I like you. If things don’t work out between you and your husband and… You know, you take your time to heal and all that—”
She laughed. “Is that your move? Tell girls they’re annoying then ask them out?”
“No, I just throw them in my van.”
“Do they like that?”
“The slutty ones do,” he said.
“So I’m annoying and slutty.”
He covered her mouth with his hand and she licked it, causing a mild wrestling match that ended in wild, sleep-deprived laughter.
A silence fell as she turned the card over in her hands. It had his name, and with a jolt she realized it was the first time learning his first name.
Leslie Woods.
Essie held the card up as if it were a fake one-hundred dollar bill, examining it in the dim light of the van. “Your name is Leslie?” she asked, repressing a giggle.
“Family name,” he muttered. “Shut up.”
“It’s cute. So, is all of this—” she gestured at the van “—a way of overcompensating for your girly name?”
“You know what? Give me that back. I’m not taking you out on a date—”
She curled her fingers around it as he pulled her closer to him. “Nope,” she said. “It’s mine.”
"Your name is stupid, too. What the fuck is Essie—”
“It’s short for Esmerelda.”
"That’s not fair. That’s really hot.” He kissed her firmly—one of those long, searching kisses that felt dangerously like something real.
It was late; easily after midnight. Ryan would be asleep. He’d called a few times, but she’d been very, very busy. Her entire body was sore and aching and she wanted to sleep for a week.
But there was one, final thing she wanted. She turned on her side and curled up next to Woods. She whispered in his ear what she wanted, her final black card request. His eyes widened, but he said he would do it.
Essie let herself back into her own house, creeping through the darkness like a burglar. She closed the door as quietly as possible, set down her bag, kicked off her shoes, and tiptoed through the living room, down the hallway to the bedroom.
The light was on.
Ryan was lying in bed, reading a book. He glanced up at her, his face set in pre-prepared anger. “Do you want to explain what the fuck happened this weekend?”
“No.” She climbed on to the bed and on top of him, giving him a sloppy, eager kiss. He grunted, his hands automatically moving down her body.
"What is going on with you—” he muttered, but she ignored him as she seized him by the hair and gripped the headboard with her free hand. He got the message and pulled off her shorts; the very shorts she’d been kidnapped in.
Essie sat on her husband’s face and felt his mouth embrace her pussy. For once, he was using a lot of tongue.
Woods’ cum began to leak out of her. She could feel it; it was still warm.
He’d been fucking her until about a block from her house.
Ryan tasted it. She felt him pause. “Essie, there’s something, uh, coming out of you—”
She grinded down on his mouth as hard as she could.
“I want a divorce,” she said.