Work Text:
It was never about sex for him. It was about intimacy.
Delilah—or Lilah, as he called her—was his everything. They had been married for 7 years. It was a good marriage. It had to be as that's what James thought that time spent with someone would do to you. It either brought you closer or drove you further apart, and there was no inbetween. In James's case, everytime he thought about their marriage, he was always glad it had been the former. It was a struggle, of course—as all marriages were—full of compromises and tolerance for the other person, but the love was still there despite all that. He loved his wife with all his heart, and he didn't see how he couldn't. Not many marriages had as few problems as theirs did after all. They were both still relatively young, in their mid 30s, on good terms, and after deciding to settle down somewhere, were almost finished moving into their first house on his doctor's salary. What was not to like? Things were looking up for both of them, and considering how good things were, maybe they would even start a family soon.
James woke up that morning in the bedroom to sunshine on his eyes and a langorous look on his face. Half awake, he let out a delightful grunt. Desiring something deep in the back of his heart, he felt the space next to him for an enticing warmth, but was surprised to find it missing from the spot it was in last night. Opening his eyes, he realized that his wife wasn't there, but there was the pleasant aroma of something good cooking not far down the hall.
"She must've gotten up early," James chuckled, slightly disappointed. Last night left something to be desired, and he had been hoping for a chance at a little more.
Well, that wouldn't be the first time she woke up early. She often did. The two of them were like polar opposites in many respects and this was no exception. Groggy, James slowly clambered out of the bed to go see what all the fuss in his nose was about. It was the weekend, and there was no need to rush.
Delilah smiled when she saw her husband amble into their lavish kitchen. "I thought you'd never wake up," she said, whisking some eggs while the bacon finished cooking on the stove. "Did you sleep well?"
"Really well," James said, coming up behind her. He planted a groping hand on her inner thigh. "You know, I missed you back in bed."
Delilah chuckled underneath her blonde hair. She gently grabbed the hand and brushed it away. "I'm sure you did. Sit down while I finish cooking. We can get that out of the way later."
"Yes, ma'am," James replied, grinning like he was the luckiest recruit in the army.
Once breakfast was done, James wolfed it all down in a matter of minutes. He had worked like a animal all week and now he finally got to spend some time with his wife. He wasn't about to let a little breakfast, no matter how good, get in the way of that.
"You finished that quick," Delilah said, eyes drooping to the plate and then climbing back to James.
"Of course. Nothing's more important than my wife," James smiled down at her. "The weekends are for us."
James eagerly took her hand and led Delilah back to the bedroom. As he closed the blinds, Delilah quietly sighed in the background and reluctantly took off her pants. When James came around, she leaned back, feet almost behind her ears like they were every time they did this, and then they went through the motions, rocking back and forth. When he was finally done, she began to get up, but then James climbed over her and rested his thing near her face.
Delilah shook her head. She mumbled no and pushed the offending appendage away from her stricken face.
"Why not?" James asked. "You never want to."
"You know why. It's degrading," Delilah said.
James snorted, feeling unfulfilled for yet another day. "Well, can you at least-"
"I'm tired, James," Delilah cut in harshly. "Just go rub one out if you need to finish."
And that was that. There was no arguing with her. No matter how much James tried, that was as far as they would go for today, and he knew it. He had tried to reason with her before to no avail. As picky as they came, she would only ever do a few positions and found nearly every sex act degrading, but he supposed that couldn't be helped. That was okay. She had only ever been with one man before, so it was only natural for her to be a bit of a prude, right? Unsure of himself, James was struggling with how he should feel about this. If he was being honest with himself, sometimes it still bothered him and left him feeling a bit cold and empty on the inside, but he had mostly gotten over it for the sake of their relationship. He understood people not wanting to do certain things. At the beginning, he thought she would eventually open up, but to his surprise, she never actually did.
They had always gotten closer in other ways though. Money was not an issue for him, so he bought her gifts from time to time. That was enough, right? It should be, and it was. Marriage is about compromises. It is, he told himself.
Hiding his disappointed, James put his clothes back on and headed outside to his Mercedes which was parked right next to his wife's brand new car. He stood silently in the yard, the sun casting a dark shadow beneath his form. Had anyone walked by at that moment, no one would have been able to tell anything was even wrong.
"Maybe I should go out for a drink," he murmured.
The day hadn't even begun and he was already considering alcohol. No... That wouldn't do. James decided it would be better to be productive and get things done than to go out and let his thoughts fester in his mind like they were doing now. The alcohol probably wouldn't help with that anyway. At least not until he blacked out.
James headed back inside his house to the musty attic where they kept all the unopened boxes from their recent move-in. There was so much stuff up there that they hadn't had time to unpack it all, leaving a lot of it for another day. James figured that the least he could do was get a little bit of work done. He was a diligent man. He began rummaging through the boxes, deciding what to keep from the old place and what to throw out, and went through a great many things before he happened upon something he never recalled seeing before. It was a dusty VHS tape with the words "XXX" marked on the front.
James brows furrowed. That was strange. In his younger years, Playboy magazines were all he was ever really into, so this purchase was definitely something out of the ordinary for him. He chalked it up to the curiosity of a horny, young man, perhaps something his drunk self had considered trying out on a limb and just didn't remember buying nor watching. That wasn't the only thought going through his mind though. Seeing the those three letters scribbled on the front in faded pencil reminded James of lingering pain in his groin. He was still unfulfilled, and now that he was intrigued by this unfamiliar and unsanctimonious tape, there couldn't be a more perfect opportunity at hand for a little relief. Perhaps watching the tape would rouse old memories, and he would remember why and when he bought it. Curiosity and libido. Two birds with one stone.
James popped the tape into an old VHS player they had in the attic and sat back as it began playing on the TV. The video started in a college dorm with a lone, naked girl—a blonde with a beautiful body that had her back to the camera.
"Are you ready? Turn around so we can start," a man offscreen said.
When he saw the woman's face, James's eyes widened, and he went agape.
The video quickly cut to a scene where she was engaging in group sex with three other men, one man for each hole. Things quickly got serious as the men ganged up on her and defiled her in every way they possibly could. All the while, James watched quietly, lowering the volume to avoid being detected. He wasn't quite sure what to say to himself or if there was anything at all that he could to salvage this situation. She looked like she was enjoying it. Yelling and moaning... It was nothing at all like the kind of sex they'd had before. She began to call out, branding herself a filthy whore for the pleasure of these animals that were using her in ways he never had. She gave herself completely to them. They pulled her hair, slapped her, and threw her around the room like she was a piece of meat to be used and then forgotten. The video ended before he knew it. By then, she was left covered in fluids on the floor, having gagged on several cocks and taken it in the back from just as many.
It was over.
Just like that.
For a full five minutes, James laid there afterwards, staring silently at the black screen as something snapped inside him. It wasn't until his clenched hand began to sting and ooze with blood that he realized he had been staring. Slowly, from some well deep inside him, James stood up, took the tape out, and quietly headed downstairs with it stuffed into the back of his sweatpants. A dark, unsmiling look on his face, he calmly made his way to the living room where Delilah was watching TV. This was the first time in his life he had ever felt like hurting someone.
"Hi, honey," Delilah chimed. "What were you doing upstairs?"
James shut the TV off. He turned, staring at her without saying a word.
Delilah ran her eyes over him, taking in his expression. "James? I-Is something wrong?" she added.
"You're what's wrong..." he said in a low, sullen voice.
"What?"
"I said you're what's fucking wrong!" James snarled into a yell, approaching her. "What have you been hiding from me?"
An instant shiver down her spine stood Delilah up off the couch like a bolt of electricity, but she found herself eye-to-eye with the glaring man. "Honey, I don't know what you're talking about," Delilah said, swallowing.
"You told me you'd only ever been with one man other than me," James said. "You told me it was too degrading to get on your knees. I do so much for you. I've always compromised for you, but you never compromise for me! I work like a goddamn animal everyday, but you couldn't even be bothered to get down and give me a fucking blowjob to show your appreciation for once!"
"Why are you talking about that? You know why I don't do those things," Delilah said, doing her best to meet his gaze.
"I know what you did," James said, pulling the VHS out from where it was tucked. " I found your video from college..."
"Oh my god..." was all Delilah managed to get out. Her eyes flickered warily between the tape and James's penetrating gaze. His eyes were enough to make her feel exposed like prey being hunted by a predator. She had never seen him like this before.
"Too demeaning, huh? You're just a dirty fucking whore," James sneered, throwing the tape on the ground and smashing it with the heel of his boot. "You've been lying to me this whole time. You're not attracted to me at all. It's not that you didn't like doing the things I've asked you to do, you just didn't want to do them with me, your own fucking husband, but you have no problem doing it for the kind of men that just want to use you as a fucking cum dumpster!"
Tears began to well up in Delilah's eyes. She couldn't believe this was happening. She thought she'd left that part of her life behind when she lost that tape years ago. "No, no!" she quickly said. "You don't understand. It's not that. I didn't want you to think I was a slut."
"A slut?" James said in anger and disbelief. "For what? For wanting to please your own husband? I understand perfectly! I don't turn you on like those other guys do! You liked sucking their dicks but not mine!"
"It's not that! I didn't want you to think less of me," Delilah tried to say.
"No, it's exactly that..." James said, getting in her face. "You lied to me you dirty fucking bitch. Ever since we met, you've always been like this, and I realize now that you never liked me from the beginning. You're just using me for my money..."
"Please, James!" Delilah begged, sputtering the words out faster than she could think. "Don't say that! I can do that stuff with you! I'm attracted to you! You know that!"
"Then why haven't you been doing it?" James spat. "Is a blowjob every now and then too much to fucking ask for these days? Every time we've had sex it was always a goddamn chore for you. You just fucked me to keep me on the hook. You saw it as the duty of a wife rather than as a way to bond. It wasn't hard because you were a prude or didn't like sex; it was hard because you just didn't like having sex with me."
Water tracked its way down Delilah's face. "I can change! I promise! Please, don't ruin our marriage over this. We can work things out."
James eyes narrowed. "Marriage counseling won't change how you feel about me. I don't want you to do it because you feel like you have to. I want someone that actually desires me."
"I do desire you!" Delilah said.
"No, you don't." James said darkly. "Even now, after you've been caught, you continue to lie through your fucking teeth."
"Please don't do this." Delilah said, grabbing his hand with both of hers. "Don't throw away our marriage for what I did in college, please."
"No!" James snarled. "Stop fucking acting like it's a one time thing. Be honest with me. How many guys did you fuck before me? How many guys dicks have you sucked, and how many guys have you let fuck you in the ass?"
Crying, Delilah desperately clung onto James. "Why does it matter anymore? I said I'll do them with you."
"Oh, yeah? I am so fucking lucky! I got married to a whore that fucks like a prude. You cost more money than you're fucking worth."
"James, can't you hear me? I'm willing to change!"
"Yeah. Only because I found out just now. It'a shame who you are, really. I bet you never even planned on telling me about your past. Well, I'm going to go find someone who's actually worth spending the rest of my life with." Crushed on the inside, James tore himself from Delilah's struggling grip. His anger was beginning to turn into sheer pain, and he didn't know how much longer he could take this. He tried to walk away, but Delilah reeled him back in and onto the couch. The pain was almost too much to carry, but it was his diminishing energy to fight back that kept him anchored there.
A distraught look was written all over Delilah's face as she straddled him into a hug. She rubbed her cheek against his, speaking into his ear. "Don't go, James. Please! You don't have to. You can do anything you want to me! Anything!"
James's arms were lifeless at his sides. The sudden intimacy combined with ordeal he had just gone through watching the video was enough to break him on the inside. His harsh face faltered as tears took over, and he too began to cry, withering into something more vulnerable and soft. Silently, he sat there for a while. Delilah's whimpers and mewls coaxed his eyes into raining a bed of tears down his weary cheeks.
James voice descended, twisting harshly with desolation. It was in pieces compared to what it was before. "I wouldn't have cared if you had a promiscuous past," he croaked, "but the fact that you did all those things for other guys but not for me is what hurts me the most."
"I'll make it up to you. I promise," Delilah whispered.
Hearing that, James's expression hardened again into an imposing stare marked by tears. He grabbed her by the jaw and forced her to look him in the eye. "You are," he breathed, his voice teetering between shaky and rough. "And you know what? I'm going to use you like the men in that video did. Like you said, you're a filthy fucking whore, and you obviously deserve to be treated that way. From now on, you're going to do anything I want when I want it. And I mean anything I want. Anything less and we're done. I make the rules now. Understand?"
Delilah nodded, averting her eyes from his gaze. "Okay..." she said meekly.
"Then I suppose we still have our marriage," James said, throwing her off him. He stood up to leave. "I'm going out for a drive. When I get back, you better have thrown that fucking tape away."
James stormed out of the room, leaving Delilah in tatters. She merely laid there for a while, staining the fabric of the couch with her tears until she could pick herself up from where he had tossed her aside. Exhausted, she looked down at the destroyed tape. There were many feelings running through her head right now but only one was clear. Deep down, she was ashamed of how she had treated the man who had done so much to provide for her.
He never did come back that day. That night, she went to sleep alone.
If only she had known he was going to drive into a train and kill himself only minutes later.