Prisoner Dilemma Ch. 01

The Prisoner Dilemma 1

by Lacey O'Shea

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Trigger Warning: This story includes some male-on-male sexual contact. While this greatly excites me, I know not all men find it similarly arousing (not sure why). If you're one of those guys, then you may want to give this story a skip. If you're able to appreciate a bit of sexy action between men, then read on and enjoy!

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Chapter 1

"I'm ovulating," my beautiful wife tells me with a saucy wink. "You know what that means, right?"

I manage to hold back my sigh and force a big smile. "It means that it's sexy time for Daddy." I grab Virginia in a hug and give her a big squeeze. It's not that I don't love having sex with my delectable, young wife, but her baby fever has turned into a kind of obsession lately. I like not having to wear a condom and getting to cum inside her as much as I want, but my unfortunately low sperm count is frustrating our desire (and her need) to have a baby.

As good as the sex is, it's beginning to feel somewhat futile. After three years of marriage, the second one for both of us, it just doesn't seem like we're destined to be parents. The sex is still great, but I worry that it's becoming a bit of a chore... for both of us. The joy just isn't there like it used to be - it's simply a means to an end for her. A mechanical undertaking to get her eggs fertilized - the pleasure doesn't factor into it much at all for her these days.

That makes me sad. We'd taken what was a beautiful thing between two people and reduced it to a functional task in pursuit of a single-minded goal. She is still young, having just turned 30. I'm a little older, nearly 36, but still vigorous if not particularly potent. I have no trouble getting it up, especially for her. Sadly, I can't remember the last time I was able to make her cum just from fucking her. But, it looks like it's back down into the pussy-mines for me. I just hope I can get off this time... our last few attempts weren't as easy for me to get there like I used to without even trying. It's just stress, I tell myself.

Before things can get going, the doorbell rings. Who the fuck is that on a Wednesday evening just before dinner? I can pray for a reprieve from my husbandly duties, but it's unlikely. It's probably a couple of Mormons here to save my soul. I open the door and I'm confronted with a tall, very muscular, light-skinned black man wearing a tight tank top, with a shaved head, tattoos on his neck and arms, and a smile that, although expansive, is still menacing. I take a step back and can't find my voice for a moment.

"W-What can I do for you?" I ask meekly, feeling intimidated despite the man doing nothing other than just being there.

"You can step aside, loser, and tell me where my wife is." He puts a big hand on my shoulder, pushes me to the side, and steps into my house as if he owns the place. "Virginia!" he calls.

How does he know my wife's name? She comes from the bedroom, sees the man, and gasps. "Justin! What are you doing out?"

"Goddamn, you're looking as fine as ever, babe." I have to agree with him, but also, what the fuck?

Virginia is a pretty woman, long strawberry-blond hair, and a tight body, perfect breasts, and legs to die for - way out of my league, but for some reason, she settled for me. I like to think it was my charm and winning personality that she was attracted to, but I could never shake the feeling that maybe it had more to do with my money. I'm not rich, or anything, but I make a good living as a VP of finance for a brokerage outfit downtown. I am actually thinking of striking out on my own and opening a firm. Virginia doesn't have to work, but she still has a part-time thing at the front desk of a local spa. She claims that she likes having something to do that gets her out of the house. I think she just likes having something to complain about... other than me.

But this evening she's off-the-scale sexy... maybe because she's ovulating. Her hair is a tangle of soft curls like she's fresh from the beach. She's in a pair of thin shorts that do nothing to hide the sensuous curve of her full, round ass and leaves her pin-up worthy legs bare. And the flimsy halter-top she has on does little to cover her well-proportioned, braless breasts and certainly doesn't hide the fact that her nipples are getting stiff even as we gawk at her.

"Early release, if you can believe it," the guy explains. "Overcrowding at Dorado lock up and all that shit."

My stomach suddenly drops. It's Virginia's ex-husband. She divorced him when he went to jail for 12 years. We never talk about him, but now that I know who it is, I recognize the name, Justin. What the literal fuck?

I interpose myself between him and my wife, unsure of what I think I can do in the face of this monster of a man. I feel like a pathetic boy standing in his shadow. I clear my throat and speak up, trying to project more confidence than I'm feeling.

"Listen, sir, I'm going to have to ask you to please leave."

"Ask all you want, puke. I'm here for my wife and I'm taking what's mine." Once again, he pushes past me with almost no effort. Does he smell like concrete and steel, or is that my imagination? He grabs Virginia and pulls her to him. She's like a helpless ragdoll in his grip. "What d'ya say, sweet cheeks, go a couple of rounds for old time's sake?"

"Justin, no! I'm married... to someone else."

"What? Him?" He looks at me and scoffs in dismissal. "This little jag off? Don't make me laugh. You know you missed this." At that, he grabs his crotch and it's clear he's got a hard-on already. I'm starting to panic. This is serious.

"Justin... no... I can't... I... I won't..."

"By the way, I go by Darius now. My prison name. Justin wasn't working for me on the inside."

"Your middle name? That doesn't sound right."

"Well, you can call me Big-D instead, if you'd prefer."

"Whatever you want to call yourself now, you can't be here. You have no right to do this."

"You're still my wife," Darius snarls, "No matter what some stupid papers from the lawyers say."

"That's just it, I'm not your wife. I don't belong to you. Not anymore." She takes a deep breath, and I recognize that's what she does when she's trying to calm herself. "It doesn't have anything to do with legal papers, you're right about that. You lost me when you killed that man."

He shakes his head and smiles. "I'd kill a hundred men for you, babe." He leans down and kisses her hard on the mouth. She resists at first, but then slowly gives in to him. What's she doing? This is insane. And it's the first time I'm hearing he killed someone. She told me he went to jail for assault after a bar fight. Some guy was looking at her the wrong way and Justin... or Darius... beat the crap out of him. Now, it sounds like maybe he beat the life out of the poor guy. This is not good. Not good at all.

"Where's the bedroom?" Darius barks. It takes me a second to realize he's talking to me. I can't speak for a few moments.

"W... What for?"

"Because I'm going to take my woman in there and fuck her brains out, you moron. I've been waiting for this for more than five years. This bitch is going to finally get what she deserves." It sounds threatening, but the way he grabs the substantial erection in his pants makes his true intent clear. I don't understand why Virginia isn't protesting more. She's just standing there, letting him hold onto her, not even putting up a struggle.

"Try it and I'll call the police," I say, my voice sounding too high and nervous to make any kind of impression on anyone, much less this sociopathic brute.

"Go ahead and try it, puke, and I'll snap her neck before they can put the cuffs on me. They'll have to hurry up if they want to pull me off of her dead body before I blow my load in her corpse. Is that what you want, pissant? If you want to make sure the both of you live through this, you'll shut up and let me have what I want... I'm taking what she owes me, like it or not.

I don't like it, not one bit, but what can I do? I am very opposed to guns, so we don't have one in the house. I'm lousy at sports, so we don't even have a baseball bat around. There are some knives in the kitchen, but I somehow know I'd be the one who ends up getting stabbed (or shanked) if I'm foolish enough to try that. But I can't just let this animal rape my wife.

"It's okay, Matt, let's not fight it. I've had sex with him before.. a lot. I don't want you to get hurt. Let him take what he wants, and then he'll leave us alone."

"My girl always was the sensible one," Darius says, grabs the back of her head, and kisses her again, a bit softer this time. She doesn't shy away. In fact, I can't help but notice her hand gripping his hard-on through his pants. My instinct is to be jealous, but she must be playing along to keep him from getting violent. I need to do something, but I'm utterly powerless in this situation.

"It's okay, honey, I'm sure it will be quick. Let's just do this and get it over with, okay?"

"Do yourself a favor, honey, and listen to her," Darius says mockingly. "I promise it will be quick, for sure. I've never been able to last very long with this little smokeshow, have I?" He smacks her on the ass and she squeals. She heads toward the bedroom, pulling him along behind her.

"This way," she giggles. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was actually enjoying this. If I ever smacked her ass like that she'd twist my balls clean off my body! It's all just an act to keep us alive, I assure myself as I hear the bedroom door slam shut.

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