Vivian White Writes Erotica
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What's Left Unsaid - Chapter 3
🕑 Added 2025-08-12 13:00:05 +0000 UTCI’d watched the video almost a dozen times. There were probably more. But I couldn’t get past that first one. I watched my wife riding Ash over and over and over. There was clear disdain in her voice for him, but her body was submitting. Letting him cum inside her. The sounds of her pleasure… pleasure I’d once given her, now being given by another. It was stomach churning.
It was also arousing. My penis may not have been responding, but I could still feel the stirring in my testicles.
Was it possible to have blue balls when you couldn’t get an erection?
I suppose the answer was yes, considering I felt. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d ejaculated. There was no doubt I was backed up. How I was going to deal with that was a whole different animal that needed wrestling.
Pulling into the driveway, I let the car idle for a while as I tried to build up the courage to go inside. Every day it was getting harder. Harder to walk into the house and into a life I knew was cracking and crumbling. It may have seemed nice and neat on the outside, but inside there were termites. The structure was being eaten away. It was only a matter of time before it collapsed.
I should be trying to repair things. But I just didn’t know how. Or if I even deserved a home that was whole.
The Daisy I saw in those pictures and in that video… she was happy. Satisfied. Sure, she didn’t like Ash, but that didn’t seem to be an issue for her. I was acutely aware of Daisy’s sexual needs. She was a borderline nymphomaniac. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but she had a very high sex drive, and the doctors she’d talked to suggested it was hypersexuality. Until the accident, it had been easy enough to keep Daisy satisfied. But now I couldn’t give her what she needed.
Yes, she was cheating. And that hurt. It was a knife in my gut. In my heart. But I…understood.
I let out a despairing laugh. How twisted was that? My wife was cheating on me, and I was being ‘understanding’. Understanding that my wife just needed a good fucking, and had found a place to get it. How weak did that make me? Was I some sort of pathetic cuck now? Letting my wife cheat?
My grip on the steering wheel tightened, the creak of the leather making me cringe. My headache hadn’t gone away. It had ebbed and flowed but never fully left. Maybe it was because I’d been holding back my emotions. The tears I knew I wanted to shed, but felt would make me even less of a man than I already was. Everything was all twisted.
There was no running away from this. I needed to go inside. I needed to continue… continue… whatever semblance of a life I still had. Maybe I could just take the little bit of joy that was still lingering in my home and cherish it. Nurture it.
The walk into the house was slow. What was once comforting, now felt stifling. It was still the same, but it had all taken on a different feel. Knowing that it was just a mask. A facade. Covering up something that I still didn’t fully want to put a face to.
I put down my bag and began the slow march towards our room, loosening the top button of my shirt. The lights were dimmed, and there was a clean floral scent I associated with Daisy’s shampoo permeating the air as I stepped into the bedroom.
Daisy lay on the bed wearing a sheer pink babydoll I’d never seen before. A tiny g-string stretched over her vagina, soaked through as she rubbed her fingers in concentric circles along her hidden clit. Her other hand was massaging one of her breasts, fingers gently tweaking her hard nipple.
Eyes half-lidded, she was lounging with her thighs wide, hand moving sensually. Her skin was flushed. The few freckles she had along her cheeks stood out as her arousal made her body burn.
My mouth ran dry. I’d seen my wife in plenty of erotic positions over the years. But this was by far one of the most sensual and arousing sights. Besides her soft pants of desire, I could hear the wetness of her folds as she rubbed. She was drenched.
“Conner…” My name drifted from her lips. “Touch me…”
I was frozen. Shaking. Staring at my wife in one of the sexiest poses I’d ever imagined. My heart was pumping. Pounding. Blood rushing. And still… The one thing that I wanted to stir was still limp and lacking.
Daisy’s eyes met mine, and she reached out to me, breast falling from her hand. “Come here.” She whispered, fingers curling and beckoning.
My movements were slow and robotic as I came forward. The closer I got, the more clear of an image my wife became. Pure sex. Desire. I stood next to the bed, and my wife's hand grabbed hold of my belt. She never stopped rubbing herself, the slickness of her pussy and tightness of the panties erotically beautiful. I could have looked at it for hours.
Her hand skillfully undid my belt, the button and zipper, and then my pants were slipping down. My cock hung flaccid, thick and soft against my churning testicles. The soft sigh of desire she let out and the sudden squelching press of her fingers against her sex made my throat tighten.
If she was disappointed that my penis was soft, she didn’t show it. Her hand moved, tracing her nails and fingertips along my cock, gently playing with it. She bounced my balls in her palm. Softly stroked the soft fatness of my limp member. It was paralyzingly arousing. I could feel a stirring in my loins. The only problem was my member refused to get hard.
“Do you like what you see?” Daisy asked breathily, shifting her thighs wider to expose herself to me. The look in her eyes was like liquid sex.
“Y…yeah…” My voice cracked, and I suddenly felt like a teenager again. Seeing a woman for the first time. Mesmerized by the body.
“Touch me, honey.” She moaned, moving her hand away, slick and dripping little strings of arousal.
Trembling, I reached down and touched my wife over her panties. She was burning. Blazing. So moist and soft. It’d been so long since I’d touched her. I couldn’t even say how long since we’d tried. My palm moved along her sex, fingers trailing a little lower between her ass cheeks. The feeling of her puckered asshole barely covered by the little string of her panties was thrilling.
“Yessss.” Daisy hissed. “Oh, honey touch me like that.” She squirmed gently on the bed, her hand circling around my soft girth and stroking. It was clear she wasn’t trying to get me hard, at least not primarily. It was a simple erotic, intimate touch. A caress.
She grabbed a small bottle that was laying next to her, flicked open the top and let the liquid drip out onto my flaccid cock. The powerful scent of peppermint filled my senses, and my cock began to tingle with the cool, spicy touch of the scented oil.
“Daisy…” I sucked in a breath at the sudden, new stimulation.
“Shhhh…” She whispered and smiled up at me with the look of a woman drunk on desire. She was a temptress and somehow I’d gotten her in my bed, all for me.
I continued to rub her, soft and slow, feeling the intimacy of my wife. She was silky smooth. Warm and wet. Her firm stomach was tight, the v along her waist defined and her abs barely visible as she sucked in a deep breath. She was laid out before me. Eager. Wanting.
A flash of her warm pussy split open by Ash’s cock made me shiver. I bit the inside of my cheek, hard enough to make it bleed. The pussy I was touching had been railed and filled by that jerk. Multiple times.
The sudden feeling of warmth around my cock made me groan. Daisy had pulled me closer, her mouth wrapping around my tip, sucking and licking. The sight of her warm pink lips sliding over me, even when I was soft, was mind-melting.
Does Ash get this treatment?
Fuck. Stop that. Don’t think about him! About them! She’s here with you!
I kept my hand moving over her. Enjoying the feeling of my wife’s arousal. All for me.
She took me deeper. Deeper. My whole member inside her warm mouth and hand on my aching balls. It was wonderful. Agonizingly powerful to be in her mouth, feeling her breath on me. Once upon a time she’d loved giving me sensual blow jobs. In a way this was still erotic, the softness of my cock in her mouth, feeling her tongue tracing around me.
We let out equally arousing moans, touching and caressing each other slowly. There was no rush. Usually, things like this were intended to work towards the erection and then whatever came next. But in its own way, this slow, seductive touching was even more adventurous.
I let my fingers slip under her panties, sticking to her tightly, and pushed a finger inside her. I tried not to think about the fact that the other night Ash was no doubt balls deep inside the very tunnel I was probing. But it kept appearing before me, even as my wife lay on our bed. Did she enjoy that sensation more than what we were doing now?
My finger slid in and out slowly, wet and slick. She was gripping me so tightly.
Ash must have felt an even tighter grip.
She swallowed me, sucking and stimulating me even though my cock refused to rise. But that didn’t matter. It felt good. I still had feeling down there, and it was making my blood boil. My testicles were tightening.
I kept my finger moving in and out, angling and curling it to stimulate the familiar gathering of nerves that made up her g-spot. She bucked her hips as I rubbed against it. Her breath sucking in through her nose as she kept sucking. Swallowing. One hand on my balls, fondling them and the other on my hip pulling me closer.
Everything started to tense. To twist. My legs began to tremble. A familiar feeling was pulsing through me. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time. But even though it was familiar, it didn’t exactly feel right. It was that sensation before I came. The thrumming in my blood. Heart pounding faster and faster. I was approaching an orgasm but my cock was still flaccid.
Please. Please get hard. Please!
I was begging whatever power might listen. But nothing was happening. My wife's pussy was squeezing my finger. Her body was hot beneath me. Mouth wrapped around me and sucking with overwhelming need.
Why? Why won’t my body work?
Her hand grabbed hold of mine, pressing it more firmly against her pussy. It was dripping. Sticky. So warm. I could see the tell-tale signs that she was close to an orgasm. My fingers thrust faster and faster, the soft wet squelches filling the room along with her moans.
My own orgasm was coming, but I wasn’t sure how it would work. Could I ejaculate without a hard-on? Maybe it would be like when I had a night emission. Or…
Daisy came. Her mouth fell away from my soft cock, dripping her spit as she gasped. “Fu…fuuuck god Co…Conner…honey god I’m cumming!” She spasmed, bucking her hips against my fingers.
Just the sight of her cumming for me pushed me over the top and… It was painful. Uncomfortable. It should have been pleasant and overwhelming. Filling my brain with chemicals and euphoria. Instead, it felt like I’d gotten hit in the groin. A punch to the gut. My orgasm pulsed through me, and my cum dribbled out, soft little shots that fell over Daisy’s chest on her babydoll. It was thick, soupy, sticky.
She kept spasming, bucking her hips up against me and whimpering. Her hand went to the sticky pools of semen on her chest and began to rub it, smear it along her skin and scooped it up with her fingers, bringing it to her lips and tasting it. Licking it clean.
The sight was… pornographic. It was amazing. Beautiful. But everything inside me hurt. Instead of a pleasant orgasm, it was more like a ruined one. I was panting, gasping for breath. I grabbed hold of the headboard for stability.
Daisy was coming down off her orgasm, lying on the bed and breathing slow and deep, a soft sheen of sweat on her skin.
Pain in my groin spurred me to stumble away from the bed towards the bathroom.
“Conner?” Daisy’s voice was soft. Out of breath.
I didn’t respond. The bathroom door shut behind me. I stumbled over to the toilet and collapsed on the porcelain throne. I was shaking. The feeling inside me was a twisting discomfort that I couldn’t shake.
Over the years I’d had a few ruined orgasms for one reason or another, so I was familiar with the sensations. But this was ten times worse. It wasn’t just some stupid mishap when I was masturbating or overexcited. This had been a real attempt at an orgasm, and it had failed. I’d cum, but it wasn’t… right…
Face in my hands, I began to sob.
…
I put my ear to the door and hear the hitching breaths and gasps of tears.
My heart ached. It broke. My legs were still shaking from the orgasm Conner had given me. It had been all him. His fingers. The taste of his cock, even soft, was wonderful. My blood was still singing with the feelings and emotions. And when he’d cum all over me, I thought…
I thought…
Conner's sobs were soft. Painful.
I let myself slip down, back against the door, and rested my head against my knees. My husband cried quietly, and I mirrored his tears as I listened.
…
I didn’t keep track of how long Conner wept. If that’s what he needed to do, then I’d let him. No interruptions. The last thing he needed was for me to intrude on him. Sometimes you just needed to cry. Cry for what was lost. What you failed at. Or maybe for something you just couldn’t name.
All I had wanted to do was rekindle our sex life. To pull my husband out of the funk he’d been placed in. Considering I’d been able to make him cum, I thought we’d made a step forward. But maybe instead, I’d set us back.
The sound of the shower startled me. I scrambled to my feet and opened the door, thankful it wasn’t locked. Conner stood slightly slumped, pulling off his clothes. I watched him, taking in how he looked. How his eyes were red, his face pale. I bit my lip, unsure what to do.
He stepped into the shower. Maybe he’d seen me. Maybe he hadn’t. Was he ignoring me? Would he do that?
I walked into the bathroom and came to stand in front of the shower, instantly meeting my husband’s eyes. He looked defeated. The water was cascading over him, dripping from his hair and face. Without a word, I slipped my stained babydoll off and stepped out of my soaked panties. His eyes were on me. There was desire there. Want. And it felt good, but also hurt, knowing that he was having so much trouble showing it to me in a physical way.
Slipping into the shower with him, I closed the door and wrapped my arms around him. My breasts pressed against his chest, hands gripping at his shoulders and face pressed into the crook of his neck.
His arms wrapped around me too, and we held onto each other tightly.
“I love you.” I whispered.
“You too.” He muttered, the resonance in his chest syncing with my heart.
“Are you okay?”
Conner was quiet. The spray of the shower filled the silence.
“Honey…” I tried to think of something encouraging to say. Something that might build his confidence. “You made me cum.” It felt so pathetic. Of course, he made me cum. Conner knew exactly how to make me orgasm. He’d done it countless times. But it had been a while. Maybe he didn’t think he was capable of it anymore. I wanted him to know that he could still do it. He still had the magic touch. Knew my body and could please me, even if his penis wasn’t hard. That was secondary. Tertiary. Irrelevant. His fingers and mouth were more than capable of bringing me over the edge.
“I saw.” There was a hint of a smile in his words.
Should I say something about his orgasm? That he’d been able to ejaculate. But that sounded patronizing, even to me in my own mind. Complimenting a man on his ability to cum. How stupid was that?
But… when it was something he was struggling with, maybe even thought he couldn’t do anymore… would it be so hard to give him a compliment?
“You…” My mind struggled for something good to say, something that wouldn’t be construed as belittling. “Tasted good.” That was true. His cum had tasted so good.
Conner sighed. There was little levity in it. “Been eating my fruits.” He muttered.
I let out a snort. “Well, it’s paying off.”
We kept a tight hold of each other, letting the water fall over us until we just couldn’t stand the heat anymore and turned it off. Stepping out, we began to dry ourselves off, standing quietly with each other, some of the tension released.
“Um… are you… satisfied?”
The words threw me off balance. “What? Of course.”
A lie. Well… not exactly a lie. I was satisfied with my husband. He was a good man. A good provider. Partner. And even though our sex was lacking, it was understandable and I couldn’t, and wouldn’t, hold that against him. But to say that I wasn’t left… wanting, in some areas, was a lie. But I couldn’t say that to him. Not now. Not after how vulnerable he’d been. How sensitive he was now.
Conner scrubbed at his hair with his towel, looking at the floor, afraid to meet my eyes. “If… you know… if you need to um… take care of things… yourself, I’d understand.”
I froze as I was wrapping my hair up. “Um. You mean…”
“Just. Whatever needs you have. I know you have a pretty high sex drive. And since… I’m not really able to keep up, ya know, just right now, um… I’d understand… if you need to take care of yourself.” He still wasn’t meeting my eyes.
Conner had never been embarrassed talking about masturbation. He’d seen me fingering myself, using a vibe, and even a big dildo on more than one occasion. So this wasn’t some sort of touchy subject. We weren’t prudes. So why was he so nervous? Skittish?
He continued drying himself and wrapped the towel around his waist. “Forget it. I just wanted you to know… I would… I’d understand. I understand.”
I lowered my towel, hair falling along my shoulders still damp. There was that word again. ‘Understand’. Understand what? “Um…” I halted. Did he suspect? Oh god… Did Conner know?
My stomach started to do cartwheels. No. Impossible. He couldn’t know…
Seriously, Daisy? You think your husband is blind? You’re coming home late. You probably smell like sex. If he even gets a half-decent look at you when you get home after meeting Ash, he’d know you had been doing something illicit.
I pushed that voice away. It was wrong. Yes, Conner wasn’t stupid. But there was no way he would suspect me of cheating. Maybe he could suspect that I was staying away from home a little more. Needing some space from the turmoil. But Conner trusted me. And I trusted him.
But you don’t deserve that trust, Daisy. You know that, right? You’ve broken it. If he still has it for you, it’s misplaced.
I was still frozen when Conner came forward, gave me a quick kiss on the lips and left to put on some pajamas. “I’m pretty tired. I think I’ll just head to bed.”
My eyes followed him, trying to gauge what exactly Conner was trying to say. Maybe talking about masturbation was a sore subject now. He couldn’t do it. So letting me know it was okay if I needed to give myself some pleasure, maybe it was painful for him. Embarrassing. Confusing. Just another problem this stupid accident had brought upon us.
Pulling my towel around me, I hurried to follow. “Me too. That orgasm was intense. It took it out of me.” I gave him a smile and a wink, trying to convey how well he’d done. But Conner just nodded, his smile not reaching his eyes as he pulled out a pair of boxers and pj pants, putting them on quickly.
I did the same. Slipping on a pair of plain blue panties and an overly large t-shirt. We slipped into bed together, and I wrapped my arms around him when he rolled over onto his side. I kissed the back of his neck softly, trying to convey all the care and love I had for him through my lips. “I love you.” I whispered.
“I’ll always love you.” He whispered back, as if speaking louder might break some sort of spell. “I always will. No matter what.”
Something twinged in my chest again. My stomach twisting. I pushed the feeling away, pressing myself closer and held onto my husband as tightly as I could, afraid if I let up even a little, he’d vanish.
Comments
Chris N
This is going great so Far
fanfoot
Lovely title by the way. All those cuck stories where the husband never takes action, never says anything. Is this a callback to that?
