Forsake Your Vows update

Keep fucking me, Mary Jane told her imaginary lover, her pelvis in constant motion, her right index finger joining her middle finger in trying to stabilize it. But the gyrations did more than grow with two fingers inside her. They became voracious circles deep inside her saturated cleft. The fingers of her left hand attacked her clit, adding more carnal pleasure to the overbearing sexual sensations driving her mad.

Split me in two! She thought, lust-crazed, adding yet another finding to her pulsing openness. Soon all four fingers demanded their way inside her, making it almost impossible not to believe that an immense prick was penetrating her.

Her eyes rolled up in her head and she bit her lip to keep from crying out under the onslaught of intensifying feelings. Mary Jane’s womanhood swelled and shuddered, waves of orgasmic convulsions pulling at her fingers while her clit throbbed madly under the merciless assault of her left hand.

Sweat covered her face, running between her proud breasts while her hips jumped. Clamping her teeth down on her bottom lip, Mary Jane managed to restrain herself to only a whimper even as she reached the peak of lustful sensation.

When at last her body went still, only showing any appreciable life over her pounding heart, Mary Jane turned her head to glance at Peter. Relief washed over her when she saw that her husband had slept through her entire autoerotic fantasy. Surely, explaining to Peter why she needed such stimulation on her own instead of with him would be too horrifying to bear.

Still, Mary Jane could not regret it. She knew she’d needed the release her body had just enjoyed. If she hadn’t given it to herself, she would’ve tossed and turned all night, going without sleep until Peter left and she was free to masturbate away her anxieties anyway.

And Mary Jane knew that, while that might be safer, she needed a good night’s sleep in order to be ready for whatever perversity Eddie had thought up for her next.

Taking her dripping fingers from her sated sex, Mary Jane rolled onto her side with a contented sigh. Her body drained, she soon drifted into a sound sleep—but one lit up on the inside by all the tossing and turning and mournful cries she’d hoped to relieve herself up. She awoke from a vivid dream long before the sun was up.

Her body sheeny with nervous sweat, Mary Jane lay beside her sleeping husband feeling like one big collection of tightening knots. Her eyes went to the LED clock on the nightstand, trying to wish away it repeatedly telling her how the dawn was getting closer and closer.

***

Mary Jane laid awake for what felt like hours after she opened her eyes. Even Peter kissing her cheek as he got ready for work didn’t revive her. Finally, her phone beeped and the thought that it might be Eddie—not some sixth sense knowledge that it was, only the thought that it might be—brought her to life as bracingly as a bucket of cold water.

Or maybe it was the worry that Eddie would text her something intimate and she should read, and delete, the message before Peter could uncover it. Yes, that sounded much more likely.

She thumbed the phone on and read.

ONE NIGHT IS FAR TOO LONG TO STAY AWAY FROM YOU. SHOW ME HOW YOU LOOK.

Mary Jane shook her head and was about to put the phone away when it vibrated again.

SHOW ME WHAT YOU’RE WEARING OR I’LL COME OVER TO SEE FOR MYSELF.

Mary Jane could not take Eddie pushing her boundaries, not today. She got up, threw on one of Peter’s old shirts and a pair of boxers, then took a photo of herself in front of the vanity. Mary Jane sent it to Eddie, not even able to hope it would dissuade him.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

Mary Jane typed a reply: I’m just lazing around the house today. No need for anything fancy.

A BODY LIKE THAT BARELY TAKES ANY EFFORT TO LOOK BEAUTIFUL. WHY NOT DRESS UP A LITTLE FOR ME?

“Because you’re not my husband,” Mary Jane told the phone, but she didn’t even begin typing that. The last thing she needed was for Eddie to see that idling little bubble and think she was at a loss for words.

Not that she had any great ideas for what she should text him…

PUT SOMETHING ELSE ON, MARY JANE. YOU KNOW I’LL LIKE IT. I’VE LIKED EVERYTHING YOU WEAR TO SEE ME.

Now Mary Jane knew what to say: If I send you a pic, will you keep your distance? No bothering me or Peter?

I’LL BE GOOD. JUST MEET ME HALFWAY. BESIDES, DON’T YOU WANT TO LOOK GOOD FOR ME?

Mary Jane didn’t know if she could say that she wanted to, but she did know how to get a rise out of him. It was some sixth sense—a cancerous part of her that was attuned to Eddie’s desires, knowing how to please him. It would be so easy… so much easier than getting Peter to reciprocate. Eddie seemed to be all reaction, his heart on his sleeve, his throbbing cock always ready to go…

I’M ON MY WAY OVER, Eddie texted.

Mary Jane quickly thumbed away at the keyboard. Don’t come. I’ll have something to show you soon. Be patient.

ONLY BECAUSE YOU’RE WORTH WAITING FOR. WEAR SOMETHING IN BLACK.

Ask nicely, Mary Jane shot back.

PLEASE, Eddie texted, with a few begging-hands emojis trailing off the end.

Mary Jane grabbed a quick shower, put on her face, then went into her closet. Something for Eddie, something for Eddie—correction, she edited herself. Something to pacify Eddie so he’d get off her back.

With bra, panties, and stockings already on, Mary Jane picked out a slinky black dress. She wondered if she’d even fit into it. The thing looked as substantial as pantyhose. But she was unable to shake the vision of Eddie reacting to—expecting maybe for her to only give him a tight T-shirt and low-rider jeans, but instead getting Mary Jane Watson in all her glory, absolutely impaling him on his promise to stay away while knowing she was dressed to the nines. A vision of loveliness that only her husband Peter would get to truly enjoy.

And Peter would like it too, of course. Weren’t they going out to eat at that hotel this evening after the one in the other city had comped him a free dinner for back in New York?

The dress crept over her body—slowly, suffocatingly embracing her curves. Mary Jane about moaned at the slight feeling of pressure. She certainly wouldn’t forget how she looked tonight! Then, finally, she zipped herself in and looked in the mirror.

The dress really had a stranglehold on Mary Jane. Low-cut, its all-encompassing blackness shockingly gave way to her voluptuous bronze cleavage. Her breasts shook and shimmied with the slightest motion, defying her dress to hold them within. The rest of Mary Jane’s slender body was lavishly outlined by the dress, which danced scintillatingly over the roundness of her thighs and opened up with a high slit to show a devastating expanse of leg, God, it was cut all the way to Mary Jane’s garter belt, this crazy thing, with little buttons sewn in a slanting line up from the high peek at her creamy thigh all the way to the mountain range of her blatantly exposed cleavage. It was bordering on showing far, far too much—the only thing giving Mary Jane a degree of modesty was the full sleeves and covered back, although what coverage was that when her legs and breasts might as well be in a bikini?

Nonetheless, Mary Jane rolled a wilding little touch through her hair, red tresses that fell to her shoulders to become even more vibrant against the black background of the dress. She twirled one lock across her forehead. Just a little hint of dishevelment, Mary Jane knew, could drive a man absolutely wild.

Biting her lip and feeling a tad delirious with how sweet she looked, Mary Jane decided she could be even more teasing. She went to the mirror and took a selfie, but from a bit of an angle, so that she showed in the photo with a level of abstraction not unlike a funhouse mirror.

Eddie had seen Mary Jane naked, knew how good she looked, but his picture of her in the dress would be more imagination than reality. He’d have to really beg if he wanted her to wear it for him again and get more of a look at her, much less have a feel of Mary Jane’s lusciously exposed body.