Spread Wide Open For Me(2)💦

Chapter 2.

Mike’s POV

She spoke first.

“I was always going to leave you, Mike. You were just too busy working to notice. He fucks me better anyway. You never made me come like that.”

“Rachel, don’t go please. I promise I’d be better. I’d do better,” I begged as I ran after her.

I jerked awake with my heart slamming against my ribs. The room was quiet except for the soft beep of the machine. There was no wife or another man here. It was ust me, the thin gown, and the dull ache in my head. It was only a dream. Still, the words stuck under my skin like glass.

My life was slowly falling apart. One day I had a marriage and a paycheck. Now I had a cheating wife, a cracked skull, and a doctor who seemed more interested in touching my cock than checking my vitals. I rubbed both hands over my face and stared at the ceiling. Nothing felt real anymore.

A nurse stepped in with a clipboard. I sat up too fast and the room spun once.

“I need my phone.”

She shook her head.

“Doctor’s orders. You need to rest and recover first.”

Heat climbed up my neck.

“You skinny ass bitch would you get me my phone now!”

Her mouth tightened. She left without another word and came back two minutes later holding the thing like it disgusted her. As she set it on the tray she muttered under her breath.

“Such a crackhead.”

The door closed and I grabbed the phone with both hands. There were no missed calls. Not even one. Not even a text asking if I was alive. My stomach dropped. Then three new messages lit up the screen at oncel. I clicked on it and saw it was a video of her and that same burly bastard in some shiny exotic car, laughing, his hand on her thigh followed by a message that shook my world.

“I’m sending the divorce papers tomorrow, it was nice trying to spend my whole life with you but I deserve better. Off to the Bahamas.”

I read it twice, then a third time not believing the contents. The phone slipped in my fingers as my chest caved in. Even though I tried not to cry, tears still burned hot in my eyes. I could still see the receipt for that diamond ring. How many overtime shifts it took. How she smiled when I got down on one knee like it meant something.

“I spent my whole salary on a diamond ring just for her to leave? Gaddamn.”

The door opened again and this time it was Jamal that walked in, face calm. He glanced at the nurses’ notes then at me.

“They said you made a scene again. Care to explain?”

I looked up at him with wet eyes and a broken laugh that was not a laugh at all.

“She is gone. Just like that. After everything.”

He closed the door, walked over, took the phone from my hand, and set it aside. His voice stayed low.

“I know it’s hard for you to accept but let me find a way to comfort you.”

I should have told him to leave. Instead I watched him shrug off the coat and roll up his sleeves. He pulled the thin blanket down. The gown was already half open from earlier. His eyes dragged over my body without shame.

“Spread wide open for me.”

My face burned. I still felt the tears drying on my cheeks. Part of me wanted to shove him away and call him every name I knew. The bigger part of me opened my legs. The cool air hit my hole and I shivered.

Jamal slicked his fingers with something from a packet. The first one pushed inside slowly. I clenched hard around it and let out a sharp breath.

“I promise it will not be painful,” he said.

It was a lie. The stretch burned. He worked a second finger in anyway, scissoring me open while I gripped the sheets. My cock twitched against my stomach even though I hated how my body answered him. He kept going until three fingers were pumping in and out of my ass with wet sounds that filled the quiet room.

“Look at you,” he muttered. “Straight man leaking all over himself for a doctor’s fingers.”

I turned my face away. He grabbed my jaw and forced me back.

“I said look.”

Then his open palm cracked across my cheek. Not hard enough to bruise, just enough to sting and make my eyes water all over again. The slap shocked a moan out of me as my hole clenched around his fingers.

“Fuck,” I whispered.

He pulled his hand free, shoved the gown higher, and lined up. The fat head of his cock pressed against my rim and I felt every inch as he pushed in. Thick. Hot. Relentless. My mouth fell open on a broken sound and he did not stop until his hips sat flush against my ass.

“You’re taking it so well,” he said. “Like your hole was waiting for this.”

He started thrusting deep and rough. The bed frame knocked against the wall in a steady filthy rhythm. Each stroke dragged over that spot inside me that made my toes curl and my cock jump. I reached down to touch myself. He slapped my hand away and then slapped my face again, harder this time.

“You come from my cock or you do not come at all.”

Tears spilled down my eyes as he fucked me through them. One hand locked around my throat just tight enough to remind me who was in charge. The other gripped my thigh and shoved it higher so he could sink even deeper.

“Listen to that wet little hole,” he growled. “Sucking me in like a slut. You said you were not gay. Yet here you are, legs spread, crying and leaking while a man ruins you on a hospital bed.”

I could not form words. Only broken moans and the occasional choked sob. My prostate got battered over and over. Pleasure stacked on top of the humiliation until I could barely breathe. He leaned down, bit the side of my neck, and snapped his hips faster.

“Come on. Make a mess for me. Show me how much this straight cock loves getting used.”

The orgasm tore through me without a warning.

Thick ropes shot up my stomach and chest. My ass clamped down hard around him as he cursed and drove in one last time, and flooded me with hot pulses of cum. I felt every spurt. Felt it leak out around his cock when he finally pulled free.

He stood there for a moment, breathing hard, looking down at the wreck he made of me. There was cum on my skin and dripping from my hole. My face was still stinging from his hand. Eyes red from crying about a woman who was already on her way to the Bahamas.

Jamal cleaned up just enough to look professional again. He fixed his sleeves, picked up his coat, and spoke like the last twenty minutes had been routine care.

“Rest. I will check on you later.”

The door closed behind him.

I lay there sticky and open and wrecked, staring at the same ceiling as before. My wife was gone. My ring meant nothing. And the only thing that had felt real all day was the ache in my ass and the ghost of his slap still burning on my cheek.

I closed my eyes.

Sleep took me before I could decide whether I hated him or needed him to come back and do it again.