Moans

You open the front door, and a similar sense of horror emerges. The smell is reminiscent of yesterday but that isn’t the origin of your fear. The moans from the master bedroom are.

You cross the threshold of the door and perk your ears. The moans are plainly evident, and very difficult to ignore. Quickly though, upon further attention, a new sound emerges. *Slap* *Slap* *Smack* Flesh contacting flesh. Skin on skin. The volume of the continuous **** made it evident that the act was violent and rough. It was easy to imagine that the **** would leave Michelle raw and red.

After a small handful of moments, a new sound became audible.

“Fuck yeah, you like that bitch?!” The voice was aggressively masculine.

A moment of silence, and then...

“Say it louder bitch! I wanna hear you beg for this shit!”

“I LOVE IT! I FUCKING LOVE YOUR HUGE FUCKING DICKS! I CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF THESE FAT FUCKING COCKS! MAKE ME FEEL EVERY INCH! DON’T YOU DARE STOP THAT SHIT! I LOVE IT NASTY LIKE THAT! FUCK YEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

Michelle’s volume and vulgarity shocked you. Not just a superficial shock either. This tone, you had never it heard it from her before. This side of her was locked away from you, only unveiled to these fucking strangers. Your blood boiled.

It was given time to boil over, as the voices quickly resumed.

“Tell me what I want to hear, or you don’t get any of this good shit.”

“OHH FUCK! OHHH FUCK! DEAR FUCKING CHRIST ABOVE! OH FUCK I’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’MCUMMINGI’M—”

There was a sudden, deep groan. Guttural and low. Then louder. And louder. And louder. In seconds, the house shook from the volume. Every window threatened to break. The wood was ready to burst apart, splintering into fragments. Your eardrums were ready to pop. The cries of Michelle’s orgasm were deafening. And slower, over minutes and hours and days and weeks and months and forever, it faded. And the slapping, the pounding of soft flesh, continued.

You feel a familiar emotion; anger. The same anger that spurred you to interrupt Michelle’s last session fills you again. You begin towards the stairwell, before the red haze parts and you contemplate the reality of the given situation. Truthfully, it was very different. Back then, it was total strangers having sex with your wife, without your consent. Of course you understood the circumstances that bred that scenario, but the sensation of walking in on your cheating wife was ultimately far beyond the anger you felt now. You didn’t like listening to this, but you knew it was to happen irregardless. Perhaps it was best to wait. You considered carefully, unsure of your conclusion.