1. A Question of Gender


    Date: 10/30/2017, Categories: Bisexual, Author: marlowe, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

    he just kept his eyes on the road and said nothing. “He was a cruel and brutal monster,” she confessed, her speech slightly slurred. “If I ever questioned him about his infidelity he would physically beat me until I was nearly unconscious,” she sobbed, a cloud of white smoke masking her face. A moment of calm, removing a compact mirror from her handbag, a cursory glance in the mirror to check her bruised mascara, knowing she might have said too much and was probably boring the pants off him, but mindful that she had also promised him a fuck. She repaired her face and continued. “I hated him so much there were times when I wished he was dead,” she said, a wide grin pulling at the corners of her mouth. “I have to confess on the morning I discovered he was dead it was an amazing relief. In fact, I celebrated the occasion with a glass of wine before calling the emergency services,” she said, her smile growing into laughter that quickly faded. “I actually considered not going to his funeral because I knew I would have to present a sad persona to his family and friends and no doubt some of his faceless mistresses.” It was a question he immediately regretted asking, but the words had already left his mouth. “Do I ever think of him,” she laughed, flashing her eyes with amusement. “Only when I’m cutting sausages,” she replied, with mocking sarcasm. The headlights lit up the dark country road, infidelity, death and humour lost in a moment of sobering silence, shifting her weight in ...
    the seat, an unexpected hand squeezing his thigh, a motioning finger and an urgent voice asking him to take a left turn. “We need to make a slight detour before we go to my place,” she smiled mischievously, giving his thigh another squeeze as he changed down through the gears and turned left into a small car park next to the main entrance of Ellington Methodist Church. “It’s something I have to do,” she insisted, taking her crutches from the back seat of the car. “Please come with me. This won’t take long,” she smiled, hobbling unsteadily on her feet, the metal gates to the cemetery creaking on rusty hinges. In the warm morning air and under the bright glow of a full moon he followed on her heels, weaving through a sea of headstones, eventually stopping when they came to a grave with her husband’s name engraved on a low piece of white marble. “He often said that he had to get oral stimulation from his other women because I wouldn’t suck-him-off, she whispered, under a chorus of chirping crickets. “That’s why I’ve brought you here tonight,” she smiled, the full moon casting a twinkle in her wicked eyes, dropping her crutches to the ground, lifting her leg onto the gravel stones, ignoring the decomposing wreath of a loved one crushed beneath her plaster cast, hovering precariously with both feet on the grave, a motioning hand guiding him behind the headstone. From somewhere inside her dark subconscious an inner demon suddenly unleashed itself. “Take your cock out,” she insisted, ...
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