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Flash story of a cheating wife.

What the hell? She thought, making an effort to move her head off the end of his penis but whatever was behind her shoved forward against the tender softness above her spine, causing her to fall hard upon Keith's crotch.

"Mmm, yeah," Keith moaned above her, eyes closed and unaware that her inadvertent deep throating just now was not planned. Linda placed one hand firmly on her lover's thigh in order to push herself off, when the pressure against her skull grew insistent and a cold voice close to her ear whispered, "Don't you fucking move, bitch."

Keith's eyes snapped open, staring past Linda's kneeling form to the figure behind her. "Oh...god."

The cold unseen metal on her skin was warming slightly from the contact, but she felt chills run down her spine and settle deep in her churning guts. "Wrong, Keith," the voice uttered with precise tonality. "I'm not God." The pressure she felt grew suddenly stronger as her assailant pressed her slowly retreating mouth once more deep upon Keith's wilting cock. "But I do have the power of life and death."

With chilling realization, Linda guessed at the third figure's identity. Albert.

Fuck.

"If you spit his cock out of your mouth, bitch, I will kill you both right here and now."

"Albert," Keith moaned out his name, his knees shaking as he tried to move back, his ass pressed against the edge of his desk. "Calm down. Please."

Linda couldn't see him but she guessed from Keith's reaction that her husband must have given him one of his almost death-like glowers. His dick was flaccid now, resting on her tongue like some lifeless eel. Fuck, shit.

"Not another word, Keith. Not one."

Keith laid his hand on Linda's shoulder in an effort to have her move back but Albert kept her firmly in place with what she assumed to be his gun against the top of her spine. "Albert, please..."

Click-click.

Chilling. The sound of the hammer being pulled back. The subtle change in pressure she felt as her husband cocked the pistol. It was unmistakable. Unmistakably terrifying.

"Say one more word, scumbag. I fucking dare you."

Keith's prick pulsed in her mouth and Linda almost gagged as she felt the salty warmth of his urine flood over his tongue. She gasped aloud and let her lips fall slack, his piss running down and chin and falling on her chest. She gurgled something unintelligible while this was happening, her eyes pleading with Keith to stop peeing.

From her vantage point all she could see was Keith's pale face staring with undisguised horror over and past the top of her head. From this view her lover appeared doughy, pallid, and very very frightened. A sense of shame and revulsion trickled across the top of her skull and then down the flesh of her back and legs. Fresh drops of Keith's uncontrollable piss continued to coat the inside of her mouth, making her nose wrinkle in distaste. He had one hand up, palm out and slightly extended, as if he could ward this entire situation off.

The pistol against the back of her head shifted a little to the right and then back again. It was a cold alien sensation, touching upon the dark frightened part of her soul. The carpeted floor now felt like gritty sandpaper against her bare knees; an ache slowly building in each of them the longer she stayed frozen with terror in this position.

"I expected something more than this," her husband said when Linda's sputtering had finally come to an end. "Something different or romantic. Something that would give this some fucking context. You know, like candles, or a giant cock, or Keith's dick in your ass."

Linda couldn't answer for a number of reasons, and from what she could see of Keith's still terrified expression, he was not going to risk saying anything.

"Instead, I see.

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