It Drives Me Mad

~ Joseph Pinto

It drives me mad.

That wet smack.

It is all I ever hear.

I watch them in my shower. Wispy bodies through beaded glass.

He is a strong man. Muscle fibers twitch, bounce within his thighs. The fog does not hide everything; not yet.

I see his face, his head thrown back, eyes clenched as if he is in pain. But I know he is not in pain.

Not yet.

That wet smack drives me mad.

It used to be me in the shower. My wife clings to him now. Legs wrapped around his hips, her perfect feet locked together. Locking her; locking them. He holds her, supports her effortlessly the way I once did; the way I want to.

That wet smack intensifies. His urgent groans fill the stall; my wife remains silent. Fog steals them from me. I am allowed the occasional glimpse of her breast pressed against his chest, the way she used to press against mine.

I am not jealous. I cannot be. This is our lifestyle. We share then come back to one another. But I can no longer come back. I cannot have my wife anymore. Not that way, no longer.

I watch them. Wispy bodies within the billowy fog; within the concealing vapor.

That wet smack.

That wet smack.

Then a thud.

The shower stall erupts in a geyser of red. The glass trickles red; all is red. Now that wet smack turns into a moist suckling.

Moist suckling.

I turn away.

***

The doorbell rings.

I am prepared; I am always prepared.

I greet him, make eye contact as always. It excites them. The eye contact. Knowing you offer your wife so willingly; knowing you offer your wife with such confidence. I lead him upstairs. I lead him to the shower. I watch him undress; he knows the rules. They all know the rules. I watch—I must always watch.

She waits for him in the shower. Perfect body glistening, hair dripping along her back; expectant Goddess. How I once loved to pull that hair; how I once loved to ball it within my fist.

She cracks the stall door open for him, beckoning. Her knowing smile arouses him; her knowing smile cuts me at the knees. He steps inside. The fog claims him; claims them. Water splattering the door as I watch. Beaded bodies through beaded glass. That smack.

That wet smack.

The man is anxious, too anxious. My wife is not pleased.

She ends him.

***

Months.

It has been months since my wife has been mine.

I have lost much sleep wondering how; I have lost much sleep wondering why.

I hear her, the same way I hear her every night; night after night. Her voice echoing down the hall; her voice echoing down my spine. Sweet as ever; suggestive as ever. She does not come out of the shower anymore.

Not anymore.

Tonight as she turns the water on, I imagine her perfect body moving through it. I imagine the water sluicing over her skin. She likes the water hot; she always did. Hot water; hot flesh. It disguises the cold, clammy death she has become.

I hear her calling.

Calling.

But she is not my wife. Not anymore.

I pull the covers over my head; she croons to me.

…please

pleeeeeease…

I no longer trust who she is; I no longer trust what she has become. I know that if I enter the shower, I am lost.

I will get through this night, somehow. I will get through.

When the doorbell rings tomorrow, I will feed her again.

Even as that wet smack drives me mad.

~ Joseph A. Pinto

© Copyright 2016 Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.

wolf_rule_full_sat

Published by Joseph Pinto

Author of the poetry collections 'From My Front Steps' (2021), 'Scotch and Scars' (2020), 'A Distilled Spirit' (2018), the novella 'Dusk and Summer' (2014), the horror novel 'Flowers for Evelene' (2005) as well numerous published works of dark fiction. Rumored lycanthrope. New Orleans Saints fan. Pancreatic cancer advocate. Twitter: @JosephAPinto Instagram: joseph_a_pinto Share his unique spin at josephpinto.com

27 thoughts on “It Drives Me Mad”

  1. Pingback: Pen of the Damned – It Drives Me Mad | Lee A. Forman

  2. Great tale, Joe! Initially I got the sense that this was going to be a revenge piece as the narrator watched but you quickly and deliciously twisted it a completely different direction. You definitely made me think with this one. The narrator obviously still loves his wife but to feed her he essentially had to give her up. I really enjoyed this one, brother! Great job!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Hey Jon!! I’m glad I was able to keep you on your toes with my story lol Nothing better for me to hear! But I’m not responsible for what your wife might say if you want to get kinky in the shower now 😉 lmao

      Thank you, brother!

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Hi Thomas! Much appreciated, my friend. I tried to keep the story structure fairly simple, but emphasized my character’s voice, so I hope that came through. I’m very happy you enjoyed it!! 🙂

      Like

      Reply

    1. Hi Madeleine!! So good to see you here on Pen of the Damned again! I hope your mind is slowly becoming infected by our fiction lol Thank you for taking the time to read my story this week, as well supporting myself and all the Damned!! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Thank you so much, Adele! I appreciate your kind words. With the format we use here in Pen of the Damned (only a max of 1,500 words), I enjoy ‘dropping’ the reader right into the midst of a story, without any explanation, per se. But I do make sure to keep it a contained story, a beginning and an end. With “It Drives Me Mad,” who can really say how things will end up for my character…? 😉

      Thank you for always supporting the Damned!!

      Like

      Reply

  6. I’m sure if your readers didn’t slip into the mindset of the uber devoted husband [the sense of “I would do anything for love”–and I dare you not to sing that line Meatloaf-style], then they definitely have known someone they’d willingly drop off as tribute for the wife.
    A visceral tale superbly told. Bravo, Joe!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. Hi Deidre!! lol Don’t worry, I won’t try to sing Meatloaf (though meatloaf seems appropriate when thinking of the men about to shower with the Mrs of my story lol)!

      Your support is always appreciated, Deidre!! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  7. Oh this is good, amazingly like poetry and keeps you hooked till the end! Bravo! The Frenchman said bravo as well and this is the reason he is not married ! On the mind set of sharing you wife or partner, I guess you got the vibe right too! Although I personally love sharring partners with others and my shower! 😊 But that is a life style choice and none of us are killing or eating others! 😉😈😛

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

    1. lmao why hello to you to, Angel with Dirty Wings!! 🙂 I am happy you enjoyed my story! Equally happy that I got the ‘vibe’ right as well (a little authenticity, even if in a horror story, always makes for better lol). Tell the Frenchman I said thank you…and much happy showering to you and all 😉

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

    1. Thank you very much, Just A Girl Lost – I do hope you are found again after reading my tale lol Ah, I’ll admit I’m thrilled I’ve left you wanting for more. Guess you’ll have to tune in until the next time…. 😉 Thank you for your support!! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply

  12. A fantastic tale Joe!! I could feel his loss, being torn between the love for his wife, the sensuality he could never have again, yet having to subject himself to the sounds of passion. Wicked man, wicked!

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

  13. Hey Joe!! I already left you a comment, but it seems to have gone to never-never-land… Great piece. This is the type of story you experience as you read it. By the end, even I could hear that wet smack! Nicely done! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.