Black Marks 4 - Chapter One

WES

“How’s your steak?” I peer across the restaurant table at my wife. A lock of her strawberry blonde hair slips from behind one ear and exposes the silver stud earring there. She peers down at her plate. The rich, almost nutty scents of buttered steak with a hint of smokiness and aromatic herbs waft in the air. Cutlery clinks and voices murmur from other tables and diners. Amelia’s in a patterned black and red dress, and even though it has a high neckline, she still looks so hot.

She’s beautiful.

“It’s lovely,” baby blue eyes gaze right back at me. She gives me a big smile before pushing her hair back in place and then cutting another mouthful of her meat. “So tender,” she says and then hides her mouth with her left hand and fork for a second as she chews.

Even that last word she used hits me in the chest and belly and makes me think of Sterling. Whether ‘Tender’ is another description he’s used when talking to me about my wife’s body. A word, that in my excitement, I might have even forgotten he said.

You’d think I’d remember every word he uses about Amelia. But sometimes the fervor and heat provoked by what he says about my wife is too much to digest. It scrambles my thinking. It’s like my head doesn’t work properly at the time.

My cock shifts again in my pants at the recollection of the last discussion with him.

But I don’t want to dwell on him or his wife Vanessa tonight. Or introduce the subject into conversation with Amelia. I doubt very much that she’d appreciate it if I did. Not on Valentine’s night.

“I love our hotel room,” she looks up from her meal again, “It’s so cute.”

“A little small though,” I shrug, but the room is the best I can afford right now. And the important thing, especially after last weekend with Sterling, was to remind Amelia how I feel about her. How much I love her.

He touched her! Another man made my wife cum with his fingers!

“Big rooms aren’t as cozy,” Amelia says with a frown and her reaction reminds me of another reason that I love her. She never makes me feel that I - or what I can give her - aren’t enough. Even though, when she was growing up, she was used to a very different lifestyle.

But even her positive attitude still doesn’t step me from feeling inadequate about our situation sometimes. And if I’m honest, this night away with a meal out was about more than me merely reinforcing my feelings for her. I needed this weekend to somehow reassure myself about her feelings for me too. Even if what I’ve read online, and what Sterling warned me about, all tell me that it’s not uncommon for a husband in my position to feel insecure as he goes through the process of allowing another man access to his wife.

My dick shifts again at that last phrase. Sterling says that some degree of insecurity is inevitable. It’s a huge deal to do what I’m doing. If it wasn’t, he says, it wouldn’t be half as exciting, would it?

But I wouldn’t seriously entertain my wife signing a kinky sex contract with another man. Surely?

Here, in this place and on this night, that whole concept is outlandish. Hell, it’s outrageous.

I ask her about the book she’s writing and she confirms that she’s finally almost finished it. She describes the ‘query’ letter she’ll need to put together to pitch it to agents and publishers. My steak is a little tougher than I’d like, but I don’t say anything to Amelia about that. I don’t want anything to spoil tonight. But while she talks about the query letter and I finish what I can of the rest of my meal, even as I listen, I almost wish the night was over. So that we could get back to speaking about the other couple again. So I could hear again how she’s feeling. Now, a full seven days after that last meeting at the Marks’ house.

But any discussion will have to wait until we get back home tomorrow night.

I glance across at her again and my eyes descend to the outline of her breasts in her dress.

Sterling has touched them.

OK, it was only to massage them for a moment or two after he slapped her there, but he’s had his big black hands all over my wife’s tits.

My dick is rock-hard in my pants.

I need to stop thinking about it all.

“If the trailer sales pick up over the next few months then maybe you and I can get away for a week somewhere in summer,” I say, as much to redirect my own thinking as to excite Amelia’s.

“Especially if I get an advance on my book,” she shrugs but her cheeks flush, like she doesn’t have full confidence in what she’s written.

“I’m sure you’ll sell the rights to it straight away,” I smile at her, “Anyway, when do I get to read it?” Not that my opinion of an ‘Urban Fantasy’ novel is likely to count for much.

“Soon,” she nods.

The waiter, a young mixed-race guy, arrives to clear our plates away and while he does, he makes eye contact more than once with Amelia. I don’t whether it’s inappropriate or unprofessional of him, but his behavior irritates me a little.

It also though makes me wonder how much attention Amelia might draw when we go on from here after I’ve paid the bill and we have a drink somewhere else. Especially if it’s a lively bar. Not that she’d do anything to encourage an admirer of course - especially not on a night like Valentine’s. But in my agitated state, it would still be hot to see her appreciated by someone else.

“So shall we go and get a drink somewhere on the way back to the hotel?” I ask her after the waiter has left to retrieve our bill.

“Or we could just go back to our room,” Amelia smiles and under the table, one of her legs touches mine, “You could just take me to bed instead.”

Amelia and I walk holding hands the short distance back through the cold night to the hotel. I’m pleased, of course, that she wants to go straight to bed and pretty obviously for sex. But I’m somehow a little conflicted about that too.

Valentine’s or not, tonight was a good opportunity to watch her get some attention from another guy in a bar and in a town where no one knows us. Somewhere she might have been more relaxed about it. And besides that, I can’t help the sneaking suspicion that like me, she might been secretly thinking about Sterling this whole time we’ve been here. I mean, getting touched between the legs by another man until she climaxed isn’t anything a wife would easily put out of her head, is it?

Plus maybe seeing that mixed-race waiter somehow made her think of Sterling again.

“So you’re feeling horny?” I squeeze her hand in mine as we walk, we’re on a footbridge that crosses the fast-moving river through the town center.

“I could be,” she smiles.

“I thought you might have wanted to explore the nightlife a bit while we’re staying over,” I say to try and coax her to admit her motivation.

“We saw plenty of the town when we around the shops today,” she shrugs and we keep walking. “When I got my lovely new necklace,” the fingertips of her other hand pat the base of her throat. Under the front of her dress, she’s wearing the silver chain with twin heart pendants that I bought for her today.

The hotel reception area is small but lovely and warm when we reach it and the staff behind the varnished wood counter there has changed since we left to go out. There’s an older man with white hair there now, almost hidden behind perspex countertop display stands of colorful tourist leaflets. He smiles as he hands us our key on a worn, leather fob and we take the carpeted stairs up to our room on the first floor.

“See?” Amelia says when we get there, she slips her coat off then kicks off her low heels too, “Lovely and cozy.”

I glance around the tiny, lamplit room as I take my jacket off. There’s only enough space for a single nightstand on one side of the bed, the other side of where we sleep is pushed right up against a wall. A wall decorated with pretty uninspiring gray and white vertical stripes.

There’s a single window with net curtains. But I guess you could call the room ‘cozy’. If you had a writer’s imagination like my wife.

I smile at Amelia then sit on the bed to pull my loafers off.

For a moment, as I look up at her undressing, I can’t help thinking of him again. Of how the dress she has on tonight is nowhere near as short as that little flowery one she wore for him. All because Sterling Marks asked my wife to wear the ‘shortest thing in her wardrobe.’

I remove my shirt and my dick is hard again.

And then Amelia is down to her cream bra and panties.

Although they’re not quite the same color as the set she wore that night, they are lacy like the others, and equally as pretty as the underwear she paraded in for Sterling. I almost say something about it all. But I stop myself in time.

Amelia comes to me anyway when I’m down to my shorts and then her lips are on my bare chest she’s warm and soft in my arms. We fall onto the bed together kissing and caressing.

I’m turned on but tense and expectant too, wanting her to say his name because I still don’t feel I should. I kiss around and under her ear, and then kiss and caress her throat, avoiding her mouth to keep it free for her to speak his name. So she can tell me again like she’s done more than once since it happened with him. And like I’ve done too, each time I’ve told her how hot it all was.

She moans and she soon frees my cock from my shorts but still, she doesn’t mention Sterling.

I push and hand down into the front of her little cream panties and touch her trimmed lips there.

Wet, warm and she lets out a little moan.

“God, you’re so hot Ames,” I kiss around her ear again and ease my fingers deeper into her, I try to silently coax her. “Were you feeling horny the whole time we were out tonight?”

“Uhmm, not all whole time.”

“It’s not like you to be horny most of the night,” I murmur into the side of her neck and try to goad her.

It always used to be me who instigated sex.

“Uhhh, well it is Valentine’s,” her fingers tighten around my erection.

“Oh, hell Ames,” I groan.

I kiss her again but this time her mouth won’t give mine up. And then I’m on top of her. She’s urging me, telling me she wants it.

But even as I push into her for the first time I try not to groan too loud with pleasure. I want to listen hard. In case I miss the soft murmur of his name. I’m so tempted to say it myself but I don’t. And as I withdraw then ease back into her again and I hold her hips while I speed up and I do it to her hard, I’m so focused on her moans and her cries that when she cums I almost miss the significance.

Amelia, climaxing first.

I hold her and watch her, and kiss her beautiful face and her gasping mouth.

On Saturday, late morning after breakfast, we leave the hotel for the journey home. It was me who instigated sex when we woke up this morning. But Amelia was more than willing again. And again I held off from mentioning the elephant in the bedroom. Even though he was on the tip of my tongue every second I was inside her.

I longed again for her to bring him up. Even though that insecure part of me was happy that she didn’t. She didn’t cum before me again like she did last night though. But after I’d finished, I carried on touching and kissing her until she had an orgasm then, in my arms. But by that time, the last thing I wanted to hear or think about was our neighbor.

Above us, as I drive now, any sun up there is blotted out by expansive layers of flat, heavy clouds that spread out with little shape to them but that look brooding. Like they’re about to unload a downpour. Amelia plays with the dial on the car radio, searching for a different music station and while she does, I redirect my thinking to the flea market event I’m due to take the trailer to tomorrow morning. And then my thoughts drift to my latest PPC advertising campaign and what I can do to try to improve the success of that.

We’re waiting to pull out at a junction near a construction site when out of the blue Amelia mentions Sterling.

Or kind of.

“Will you be going to the spa gym again on Tuesday?”

“I don’t know,” I reply with heart thumping and I peer across at her, “Why do you ask?”

“Vanessa was wondering,” she shrugs.

Why would Vanessa be asking her that this weekend? I thought they’d gone away somewhere too. Does Sterling want the latest update on how my wife feels about what he did to her? How she feels now about him?

“Has Vanessa just texted you to ask?” I indicate her phone on her lap.

“Yesterday,” Amelia says.

“Right,” I nod.

She texted Amelia on Valentine’s Day itself?

“So you’ll be going to your Book Club?”

“I think so, yeah,” she gazes over at me again.

The junction traffic clears and I ease off the brakes and accelerate away.

“You and I should probably come to some decisions about the things in that agreement,” Amelia murmurs, “which ones you want me to do.”

My chest pulls so tight that I place a palm on it before I glance back in her direction.

Her cheeks are flushed.

She’s really prepared to do it. To commit to Sterling.

My heart hammers but my gut balls into a fist.

“Yeah,” I say but only because it’s impossible to think.

Is she mentioning this now instead of while we were away because she didn’t want to spoil the ‘romantic getaway’ I arranged?

Author's Notes

If Wes wants his wife to carry on her budding relationship with Sterling should that include her signing a contract of any kind with the older man? And if she does so, from what you've learned of the proposed contents so far, are there elements within it that the young couple should avoid?

Share your thoughts or ideas in the comments below.

Next week, in the 'Black Marks' series finalé, it's Ash and Marcie where their lodger demands more from the couple..

© 2025 Tinto Selvaggio. All rights reserved.

 All characters portrayed in this ebook are consenting adults eighteen years of age or older. As a work of fiction, any similarities to any situations or persons living or dead are entirely coincidental.