I Could Strangle Him

On the drive home from the department store, I try to figure out what this damn video is all about. Dirk sits in front of me in the passenger seat, relaxed as always, evading every question with a casual smile or a lighthearted remark. No clues, no slips of the tongue. Nothing.

It's driving me crazy. I hate being kept in the dark—especially by a man who knows exactly how much it irritates me.

As soon as we get home, Thomas and Dirk disappear into his office and close the door behind them. Of course. Men among themselves. Secrets. I roll my eyes as I take my time in the kitchen. For a brief moment, I toy with the idea of listening at the door, but I dismiss it immediately. I'm not that ****.

Not yet.

Once or twice, I “accidentally” walk past the study. I stop. Of course, I'm not eavesdropping. I'm just hearing. Muffled voices, nothing concrete. No words I can make out. Just the damn feeling that something is being discussed there that I'm deliberately being left out of, even though I'm the subject of their conversation.

Only after almost two hours does the door open.

“Jessica? Can you come over for a moment?”

Thomas’s voice sounds oddly cheerful.

I take my time. I clear away a few more plates and wipe down a countertop that is already clean. I don’t want them to think I was waiting for them to call me. When I finally enter the office, Thomas is already sitting at his desk again. Dirk is leaning casually against the wall next to him, arms crossed. That look drives me crazy. On his lips is the arrogant smile that has long since become familiar to me.

The computer hums quietly. On the screen is a colorful, cluttered page. As I get closer, I recognize what it is: profiles. Pictures. Women in skimpy outfits, lascivious, open, suggestive.

Got it.

Some kind of dating site. But not a good one.

My first impulse is rejection. If the two of them want to get turned on by something like this—fine. But don't count me in. At the same time, I notice my curiosity getting the upper hand. I lean forward slightly, examine the photos more closely, let my gaze linger a moment too long.

Thomas begins to explain. He talks about the platform, video feed, possibilities, functions. I'm only half listening. I'm too busy trying to figure out why my pulse is racing. And why I can feel Dirk's gaze on me, while I tell myself that none of this is any of my business.

At that moment, I recognize it: my photo.

I look again. It's clearly a picture of me in a bikini that Thomas took on our last vacation.

“What is this?” I hiss at him.

With his little boy face, he looks at me as if he's fishing a slimy frog out of a pond and thinks his mother will be happy about it.

At least he has the decency to turn pale and stammer as he tries to explain.

“We created a profile for you and uploaded today's video.”

“Without asking me?” My voice could freeze a volcano.

“It's for both of us.”

I blink and can't believe my ears. Has he gone mad?

"You know Dirk won't stay here forever. But I like watching you sleep with him. And you like it too! And so I thought—we thought: when he's gone, we'll find other men via this site...“

His voice trails off when he sees my furious expression.

“Do you seriously think I would go along with something like that?” I could strangle him. I clench my fists in indignation.

Before I can pounce on him, Dirk puts his arms around me from behind. Very gently. I feel his restrained strength, the pleasant warmth. His scent rises to my nose and awakens memories that I perceive more with my body than with my mind. Automatically, I lean into his touch.

Dirk caresses my breasts through my dress. I close my eyes. My face relaxes. I hear him whisper close to my ear.

“Don't be angry with him. It was my idea.”

As he says this, he takes my arms and guides them behind me until I touch him. “Help me.”

I understand what he wants from me. I feel for his belt and unbuckle it. I do the same with his trouser button and zipper. Immediately, I feel the heat emanating from him. It's contagious. I shiver and a soft sigh escapes my lips.

He sinks onto the carpet and pulls me down with him. In fluid, natural movements, he gathers my skirt up. He knows I'm not wearing panties underneath.

His hands on my hips guide me. Ah! His hardness touches my entrance.

I give in. Let myself sink down. Onto him.

Oooh!

I'm sitting on him. Reverse cowgirl. That way I'm in control. Sort of.

I lost control long ago.

I take him deep inside me. I'm still amazed at how much he stretches me. The tension. The fullness. Will I ever get used to it?

Slowly, I begin to rock up and down and circle my pelvis slightly. I use the freedom to ride him in the way that feels best for me.

My body vibrates. I go from walking to trotting. Warmth rises within me. My heart pounds wildly. Trotting turns into galloping. With my mouth open, I chase toward the finish line. No restraint. I take what I need from him. I want it. And I can do it.

Oh, yes! The feeling of happiness is overwhelming. I ride out the wave until I sink forward, exhausted, and lie there breathing heavily.

Until a sound intrudes on my consciousness that doesn't fit my mood at all. Why are Thomas and Dirk laughing?