Chapter 3 – Part 8, Sex is Violence

This is chapter 3, part 8 of the Pleasing María novel. If you are under 18 years of age, or are offended by explicit descriptions of sexual activity or violence, or by strong language, please exit this site immediately. To view the Table of Contents of the novel click here. To go directly to the first chapter, click here. To read the latest novel post, click here.

Chapter 3 – Part 8, Sex is Violence

However, these threesomes presented a new problem for María and I – many Guatemalan men had an inferiority complex towards American men, and they often disliked Americans, especially men that had ‘stolen’ a Guatemalan woman. María used this sense of inferiority to spur the men into greater sexual effort to please her. She goaded them into proving their manhood, that they were better lovers than the gringo by making disparaging remarks about me, her gringo husband. She encouraged them to insult and disparage me as they fucked her. She told them they should judge their expertise as lovers by her screams as she climaxed.

None of this had been an issue while I was elsewhere in the house, but now that I was always in the bedroom with them, I would hear the insults of both. María wanted me to understand it was just a tactic to get the men to work harder at pleasing her. I accepted her explanation, and we discovered my presence in eye-shot and earshot of their insults proved to be an even stronger aphrodisiac to the men. That they handled and fucked my beautiful slut-wife any way they pleased while I watched, that they insulted and cursed me while she sucked their penises, that I licked their semen out of her vulva, was an incredible ego and hormone shot. They exhausted themselves to fuck her to ear-splitting orgasms.

The men’s faces intimidated me as María sucked their penises. They looked me directly in the eyes and told me I was a useless, pathetic, ‘hueco’ (hollow man). Their attitudes carried over into the club, where I felt their disrespect and contempt as they came to take María to the backroom.

In those years, neither María nor I understood the complete cultural context of watching other men fuck my wife. Guatemala, superficially populated by a peaceful race of indigenous peoples, had a violent underbelly. In this underworld, fucking another woman in front of her husband preceded deadly violence – they raped the woman, raped their children, they murdered the woman and children in front of the husband, and tortured, castrated and killed the husband. These murders were frequent, but infrequently reported in the news, until an explicit, in-depth special was published in the Heraldo Libre newspaper.

Raping or seducing a married woman directly insulted the husband, and if the husband discovered the infidelity, he was expected to take revenge. Revenge was always violence – castrating and/or killing the lover, and often killing his sullied wife. Men easily provoked a confrontation with an enemy by fucking the enemy’s wife, either by seduction or rape.

Vicious criminal gangs, growing rapidly in Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador, required the rape or murder of an innocent as the entry fee into their gang. Gang leaders required new members to swear their allegiance to the leader by kneeling before him, sucking his penis, and swallowing his semen. Homosexuality aside, any man swallowing another man’s semen acknowledged the other man’s supremacy and pledged their loyalty and life to him.

Street battles between gangs produced a horrific death toll. The genitals of the dead and injured of the losing gang were sliced off in the street where they fell, their genitals stuffed into their mouths or collected as trophies. Most castrated gang members preferred to bleed to death than live as a eunuch. Surviving eunuchs were open game for everyone and would be quickly killed in the streets, often by their own gangs.

Some gangs were personality cults, with an older leader and quite young members converted into brutal sociopaths. Some gangs maintained trophy rooms where the genitals of their enemies were displayed. Genital severance was always the preferred method of dealing with your enemies – they were profoundly humiliated before dying. These macho characteristics were not superficial, they were deeply embedded in the culture.

My presence in the bedroom, naked and erect, while my slut-wife’s lovers fucked her unlocked these primal passions in these men – I was a natural enemy intended to be castrated and killed. Licking their semen from María’s vulva excited and confused them – was I acknowledging their supremacy over me? Was I surrendering María to them? Or was I just a gringo pervert, maybe a dangerous pervert?

I think the reason so many of these men offered me their penises was to clarify who was master of whom. Deep in my heart-of-hearts, I always felt these men fucking my slut-wife were better lovers than I. By watching them, and by licking their semen from her vulva, I gave my implicit acknowledgment of my sexual inferiority.

A latent tension of violence permeated the room as I watched these men fuck María. The men eyed me apprehensively, perhaps expecting a weapon. When I sat disrobed at the foot of the bed, my erection pointing at them, their attitude changed to anger and hostility. The implied violence was intensely arousing, simultaneously exhilarating and humiliating. Even though they had their hands on her body, their penises inside her body, they always felt a danger, a competition with me. I provoked this competition by my position, sitting in front of the bed as if in judgment, my erection a scepter.

Most Guatemalan men are short and small and their penises are sized accordingly. My penis was usually larger and longer than theirs, and watching María’s beautiful body being handled and fucked kept me hard for long periods. I sat there, my legs apart, my penis in full view of the man, and that intimidated them. I would stimulate myself from time-to-time, but I made sure to never ejaculate; that I ejaculated in my hand while they ejaculated inside her body would be a catastrophic loss of face.

In this balance of violent tension, this competition of macho, I had significant advantages: I had a bigger penis, always on view; I was a foreigner, an American presumed to be better educated and richer; I had white skin, better to ‘mejorar la raza’ (improve the race); and even though I sat on the sidelines, that beautiful, sexy slut they were fucking was my wife and I would still have her when they left. The Guatemalan men also had significant advantages, but they couldn’t be sure about them: they had darker skin and penises, which my slut-wife loved; they tried harder and had a natural compatibility with María I didn’t have; they were able to insult me freely according to their cultural values; and foremost, they were all over and inside her body at the moment. That this tension never erupted into open violence, except for small exceptions, is remarkable.

Two events stick in my memory of this period. In the first event, JerkFace sat on the bed leaning back against the headboard, legs spread, facing me and María was sucking his penis. Well actually, he was fucking María’s mouth. He held her head by the hair with both hands, and was driving her head up-and-down on his penis. His penis was not large nor long, smaller than my erect penis just a few feet away, but he was forcing her head hard against his genitals, pushing his penis deep. María wrapped her arms over his legs on both sides, pulling and pushing to maintain the pressure of her mouth against his penis as he stroked. María’s vulva was immediately in front of me, engorged, open, wet, spectacular. The man stared directly into my eyes, belittled the size of my (larger) penis, told me I was a ‘hueco’ (hollow man) even though I was magnificently erect at the moment. He repeated over and over she sucked him because I was not a real man. His skin glowed with a sheen of sweat, adrenalin, and testosterone. He filled her mouth with semen without pausing in the curses and insults. The look of hatred and contempt on his face was palpable, my pulse raced in fear and sexual excitement.

In another ugly event, the same guy, JerkFace, ejaculated into María and she called me into her vulva. As I licked clean her vulva, JerkFace rolled around on the bed behind me and punched me in the testicles. I dropped between her legs and grasped at my genitals. He rolled me off María and off the bed. I lay flat on the floor on my back in pain, my hands shielding my testicles, expecting María to come to my aid. Instead, she excitedly pulled him between her legs, he placed her lower legs over his shoulders, rolled her pelvis up and banged against her. She energetically matched his banging. After the man ejaculated, he slide off the bed, walked over to me and kicked at my genitals on the way to the bathroom. María watched from the bed, burning excitement in her face. Her dark, heavy Male Mayan blood emerged.

I heard these insults from María and her lovers throughout the rest of our marriage, Now many years later, in retrospect, I understand she meant those insults in the moment. In the context of the Latin culture, María’s culture, the insults were accurate. And perhaps María derived some sexual pleasure from humiliating me.

I realized María’s insults and her provocations of her lovers to abuse me was part of building sexual excitement. Although she surely loved me, she loved men fighting over her, and the winner was awarded with her vagina. I was never the winner, I wouldn’t fight, I was simply not a fighter, and my reward was often a blow to my testicles.

María brought a few men home from the sex-dance club that appeared to have learned what little sexual technique they knew from hard-core TV. It made me upset, but María told me to let it pass unless they threatened physical harm. Besides, I was there to take the physical abuse – punching my genitals was a favorite, for them and for me.

But what upset me most is they touched her hair. It had grown long, almost to her waist, wavy and shiny. She’d tie it up for sex, otherwise it became messy and intertwined in their bodies. Most men didn’t care, they were just interested in her orifices, but an occasional man would loosen her hair, and set me on edge. Why watching them bang her vagina bothered me less than seeing their hands stroking their hair probably speaks to some basic corruption in my character, I don’t know. I loved brushing her hair and spent time every day stroking her hair with my hands. That seemed to make it shine more and become softer.

I thought at least her hair should be sacred to me – why weren’t they satisfied with her breasts, mouth and vagina? Why didn’t they leave me anything exclusive of María? Some men rolled her hair into a long pony tail and pulled her hair back as they power-fucked her. The worst was the man that knelt beside her head, had her suck him to the point of ejaculation, then wrapped her hair around his penis, pumping his penis with her hair as lubrication. I did a slow burn until he ejaculated, smearing her hair with his semen. I jumped up, suppressed the impulse to rip his face off, and in desperation, stuck my genitals in his face and ordered him to hit me. He obliged with a back elbow, and spared me the torture of watching him ravish her, porno style.

Not all her lovers were great, some not even good. Her body provoked such excitement in men that premature ejaculation was common. A few ejaculated in the car, others as they undressed. This was not a problem for Maria – she’d lead them to the bathroom to clean-up … or to fuck in the shower. The men that prematurely ejaculated during sex were also not a problem – she’d fuck them vigorously to ejaculation and wait for their second erection for her own slow pleasure. María like to suck her weakest lovers to ejaculation in the car before arriving at the apartment. This gave the men first relief, and avoided a lot of embarrassing premature ejaculations in the apartment. By the time we arrived, she had them ready again. A few men, mortified by their failure, never got an erection again. She always tried to pump them up again regardless.

If she wanted more, if she wanted me, she’d be showered and douched, sometimes perfumed and made-up again, by the time I returned. She didn’t always want me – on a few occasions, she sent me back to the club to bring another man, one of her favorites, to finish the night. This happened mostly on the nights when I had been punched in the testicles, and was simply too sore to fuck her.

If she was satiated, or exhausted, she’d be asleep on top of the sheets as I left her. I enjoyed this aftermath also, … well, it was the ending I wanted most. I’d brush her hair with my hands, stroking it and running my fingers through the wavy locks, wondering if it felt the same to the men that held it as their handle to control her mouth over their penises. I’d spoon her, pull her tight to me and smell her and his perfume, his sweat, his testosterone, his semen. I’d cup her breasts, and relive his kisses and caresses. I’d rub my fingers through her vulva, smearing them with his semen, smearing his semen on my erection. I’d pull my penis between her legs, between her labia. And my body would twist and contract in pure pain and pleasure of the knife cutting into my groin. I’d hurt physically, mentally, and sexually to re-live his consumption of my slut María. María would sometimes awake, feel my torture, and she’d hold my hand over her breasts; press my penis between her labia as I twisted. And she’d coo at me until my back arched, my head snapped back, and my testicles released their pain. She’d whisper, “I forgive you”, and I’d sleep in peace. She did forgive me – for María, all sex was good sex.

End of book content.

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