Cast:
June: 43 Years old she is 5 feet 8 inches tall with large C cup breasts and long thick nipples. She worries about, but her husband loves, her lush figure with curving hips and round bottom. She loves to read 'lady-porn' romances and daydreams about wild exciting sex, but knows her husband is conservative and staid.
Tim: 45 years old and 5 feet 10 inches tall he has a slight spare tire. He walks and jogs regularly, and tries to eat well. Has always liked an orderly way of life. But also has a wild imagination. He loves his wife and assumes that as a 'nice' girl she would be shocked and disgusted by the fantasies he has had over the years.
Tim works a regular 5 day week and is rarely needed on on weekends. June works 4 half days as a book keeper, split between two small businesses, a smart ladies boutique and a small store that sold dance and exercise clothes and uniform wear in the front, and fetish costumes in the rear. She is secretly titillated to work there, and dreams about wearing some of the costumes.
oooOOOooo
June was crouched on her spread knees, holding onto the headboard in front of her. Tim was on his back, head between her knees as she lowered her pussy to his face. He had a lot of practice doing this, he loved her taste, her smell, although she didn't really understand how he enjoyed her scent even after a day at work.
"Mmmffff, mmmm, yes, there honey, oh honey, oh Tim, yes yes yes."
She pushed down, down onto her husband. Tim couldn't breathe, couldn't really see as she squeezed her thighs together around his head. One hand was reaching up and caressing her bottom, he loved the curves of her butt, clothed or not, it was lovely. He had dark fantasies about her bottom, but knew to keep them to himself.
His other hand reached to her breast, her tit, hanging down beyond his head, he loved her nipples, he loved they way they had gotten longer and thicker when she nursed the twins all those years before. He loved the way they swung when she was bent over. Loved it. Wanted to take videos and pictures of her, of them, of all of her, but knew better than to ever again ask to do that.
June loved the way he licked her, loved what he did to her nipples. They had a very limited number of things they did in bed, but they did them well, after all they had more than twenty years to practice. She loved to crouch over him, she had been appalled when he first wanted to do that, it had taken several years for him to convince her to do it. But she loved it now. And she came, came, came, pushing and thrusting and rolling her hips, mashing against his face.
They had both been brought up in conservative families without really knowing much about sex. Tim had a little more experience than she did, and had read more about sex. Together they had learned to please each other. They had only two main positions for sex, missionary and when she rode him. Occasionally they did doggy style. For so long she thought that it was wrong that way, but now she got a secret thrill whenever they did it.
Lately she had been getting a lot of secret thrills. No, stop thinking about that she told herself. Let up, let him breathe, god he would let me suffocate him if I wasn't careful.
She lifted off of him and lay down beside him, her turned to her, kissed her. She loved it. At first she didn't like to smell her own scent, but then she got used to it. Now she loved the idea that he would go down on her, it was so naughty, so decadent.
Tim kissed her, slowly nibbled at her lips, slipped his tongue into her, just a bit, slowly sliding it back and forth between her lips, before finding her tongue and gently sliding against it, the two of them taking turns being the aggressor with their tongues.
Tim pulled her over him, spreading her legs to straddle him. He could tell she was lazy after her cum, the one problem with going down on her first.
"I love you June, love you love you love you."
"Oh Tim, you're just saying that." She laughed as he held his rigid cock and pushed it up and down her slit.
"I know you're tired honey, but I'm lazy, and I know you wouldn't want to let me cum in you first, before I went down."
He pushed into her. June was a little shocked, and it showed on her face. She knew he was just kidding, no way would she allow him to go down on her after he had cum in her. Ewwwwww she automatically said to herself. Then a thrill ran up her back, a chill, almost another cum, she felt her hips thrust forward out of control at that thought.
What was she thinking! So many things lately, poor Tim, always a routine with a set number of variables. Like a train on a track, a limited number of switches to adjoining tracks. Very limited, why was she thinking about those other tracks, all the way over there, never before, now, now was different, poor Tim. Oh Tim I love him so, how can I ... stop, don't think about that now. Think of Tim.
I love her so much, so much, I should have done more to encourage her, us, to do different things when we were first married, it was all so new to both of us. She said she had never cum with a man, with anyone before, had to concentrate on her.
If only, if only. She only likes a few things. It's really a miracle that we doing more than just missionary. I wish I could get her to cum on my cock. I love going down, she tastes so good, so sexy, but it would be nice if she'd cum on my cock.
If only. I do love her, she is so wonderful. Her pussy is so snug, even after the twins, thank god the doctor told her to do those exercises. I think she must still practice.
She felt him pick up the pace, she loved him but worried about ... No. Don't think about that, not yet, maybe later when he's asleep. I can't stop thinking about ....
She put her hand on her clit as he drove in and out of her as she rode him, their bodies working in a well practiced rhythm. He was massaging her breasts and pulling on her nipples, they were both panting. She loved the feeling of him inside her, even if she had never cum from just his cock, but rubbing her clit brought her so close, so close so close.
He shot into her, it was good, but. Yes but. What's the matter with me. When we first got married it was soooooo very good. It still is. But if only we could experiment.
June loved it, loved the feeling, nearly cumming, nearly, nearly, she rubbed herself against his pubic bone, her mons mashing against him as she pushed and pushed, his cock slowly slowly deflating. He pulled hard at her nipples, but no use. She lay down on him, they kissed deeply and romantically as his hands roamed her back, cupping her bottom.
Then she got up. She jumped up and practically ran to the bathroom, her hand over her pussy. The door slammed and he heard water running. He kept the picture of her bottom jiggling and her tits swaying as she ran to the bathroom, she was so sexy.
I wonder if I could talk her into going bra-less around the house? I love that she started shaving her pussy, and all on her own. God she put up a fuss when I asked her about it, when, ten years ago, fifteen, more? I wonder why she suddenly did it, she never mentioned it either, just showed up like that.
She came out, still naked, smiling, her face full of joy and love. A washrag in her hand, she knelt beside him, her hand on his tummy, then carefully wiped the washcloth over his cheeks. She beamed at him. Then slowly and sensually cleaned his cock.
"You don't have to do that honey, you know I love you, I love your scent."
She pouted a little bit, mostly in play.
"Now darling, don't be silly. I can't have you smelling like that, even if tomorrow is Saturday, what if someone came over. What if there was a tornado tonight and we had to run to the basement and the house got blown away. What would the neighbors think when we climbed out of the wreckage?"
"They'd think that we had been having some fun." He grinned up at her.
"Hush, don't you say it." She laughed and went into the bathroom and rinsed out the washcloth. She put on a short plain cotton night-gown, then came back to bed and snuggled up, he spooned in behind her after he put his boxers back on.
As much as June didn't like to feel the cum oozing out of her, she had hated the feeling of Tim wearing a condom, so after the twins were born she had her tubes tied and he had a vasectomy. Both of them had separately hoped at the time that these would lead to a more uninhibited sex life, but the trials of raising twin infants had actually put a stop to any sex for some time.
Lately Tim had noticed a change in June, she had been a little more lively at home, but at the same time she seemed to be spending more time away from home, several nights she had been out when he got home from work, and she regularly went on on a 'girls night' with the ladies from the boutique.
He had also noticed that she was wearing more new clothing, it had a slightly more modern look, slightly shorter skirts, slightly lower or more open in the front. He had even been able to look down her blouse a few times in the last month. She hadn't noticed and acted like nothing was different. Not even returning or acknowledging some of the flirty comments he made.
Something was different, slightly different. Subtly different, and it worried him that she acted like nothing was. If that made sense. He knew that the stories he read about wives stepping out on their husbands were fiction and he couldn't rely on them to use as a standard for normal behavior. Still, he was a little worried.
Tim ran his hand up and down her side, over her hips and down her thighs as far as he could reach, running back, then down to cup her beautiful tummy, and up to cup her breast. June secretly loved it that he caressed her. She wanted to go back to fingering her pussy and clit, but thought it was too brazen for Tim, so soon after.
She was lazy and feeling good, slowly coming down from her sexual high, still slightly turned on, half formed sexual fantasies playing through the theater of her mind. If only Tim were more open, she would love to share them with him, maybe he would be excited if she told him about ... no, not that. He would leave me. Maybe I deserve it. No, stop thinking about that ....
"How are you feeling honey?" Tim asked.
"Nice, warm, cozy, snuggly, very nice."
Tim was quiet for a while, he wanted to talk about their lack of exploration and about her, some things had been troubling him, but he was afraid to do anything to frighten or make her think less of him.
"Nothing bothering you?" He asked very quietly.
"What do you mean?"
She was on her way to falling asleep. Something she had been associating with their sex lately, not in a bad way, just not like the fantasies she had always read about. Not like ... her mind stopped thinking about that particular, separate and private thing. It seemed disloyal to think about it in bed with her husband.
"You seemed a bit distracted, not just now necessarily, but in general, like you have something on your mind."
"Not necessarily like just now, but maybe a little?" She probed, what was he thinking about?
"It's not like I have ever been able to light a roaring blaze in our lovemaking." There, he said it, got it off his chest, and hopefully said it so that she didn't think he was criticizing her.
What was he thinking about, she wondered. We've always done it this way, I'm the one that has the wild fantasies, did he somehow find out? Did I leave one of my secret sites open on my laptop? Did he snoop, or just see it somehow? Need to play it safe and feel him out. Darn, I wanted to be rested tomorrow.
"I've never complained honey, what makes you think I'm not happy? You always make sure to take care of me first."
"No, nothing like that, but I know we always do the same thing. Not like you fantasize about when you're younger, no fireworks or bombs going off."
Oh my gosh, surely he doesn't think we're boring too? Does he have any secret fantasies? How do I say this. Oh no, not now, not now that I've.... Not now. Why not last year.
"What are you thinking of honey?" That's it, let him spell it out.
"I don't know, just more, more pizzazz. More fun. We never laugh when we're making love, or yell, or anything like that."
"Do you want me to start telling jokes?" She knew she was being flippant, but was getting nervous about where this was going.
There was a pause, she worried that her comment had pissed him off, or made him clam up, she wanted to keep talking about this, and she didn't. He was trying to decide if he should keep up the questioning. He finally answered.
"No, you know better than that. It's just that maybe when we were first married we should have experimented more, been more daring, tried different things. Been spontaneous."
She was worried that he was going on a mid life crisis now, she had done some exploring on her own and now she was a nervous wreck with what he was saying.
"And now after all these years you want to start sucking my toes? Is that it?"
"Toes, no. Unless you think it would be sexy. Then I would. Is that what you would like?"
Toes? Oh no, where did that come from? Why did I say that, she thought.
"No, I just threw that out, something different. No I don't want you to suck them. It was just something I threw out that sounded like a kinky person might do"
"OK, but maybe we could try something new?"
"Like what? I'm not sure what you are talking about."
Now I'm stuck he thought, what do I want?
"I don't know, maybe not in the bedroom sometime, just on the spur of the moment when one of us is in the mood. Or with the lights on. Or ...."
There was silence for a while. She was thinking, he was thinking. She actually felt as if she could be getting a little moist again. Was his thing starting to push against her bottom through his boxers?
"Talking dirty? Do you want to talk nasty, or me to do it, or both? Would you like that?"
Wow he was thinking, a little shell shocked, he didn't know where this conversation was going to go when he started it, but he sure as heck didn't think she would mention talking dirty.
"Yeah, yeah, you could, that would be hot. Maybe we could tell stories to each other, or read them out loud."
"Stories? Like the slam bang porn you like?"
"I don't know if I like what you think I do, but you could pick it, whatever you like."
She was in shock, he was frustrated too. Why didn't she see that. She thought he was just a nice guy who liked the boring predictable. Or wants a whore. Tracy said he probably wanted some tarted up tramp. Maybe he wants me to be .... sexier?
Tracy, oh no. How, does he know, suspect?
"Why are you talking about this all of a sudden, you said I was acting funny, how funny?"
"I didn't say funny, just distracted, but that's not right. More like you were thinking of something else, but you've been more perky too, dressing a little differently, but like it was for work, or for something else ... or...."
He said it out-loud, then he got what he was saying, like she was doing it not for something else, but someone else. He whispered in the silence.
"Someone else."
She froze, she could see how it came to him just now, like his subconscious got it and shoved it out in front of him.
"S. S. s s someone else?"
He was blasted away by what he was thinking, his wife was bored with him and she was seeing someone else, the kids were out of the house, was she getting ready to leave? Who.
He was shaking, the half stiffy he was working on retreated like a tortoise pulling in its head. He felt nauseous, almost like he might hurl right there. His vision was tunneling in, he could only see straight ahead, he was clammy.
She reached back to touch him, reassure him, her hand hit just above the waist-band of his boxers on his bare skin, she was shocked at the damp clammy cold feel. She spun around to face him. In the darkness she could see his face was ghost white.
She clicked on her bedside lamp, his eyes looked weird, the pupils tiny and he started to shiver. He turned away and sat up, a mistake as his tunnel vision narrowed down to nearly nothing and he started to retch.
June had rushed around and grabbed the waste basket just in time as he bent and dry heaved, just a dribble splattered into the plastic store shopping bag lining the container.
She took the glass of water beside the bed and held it to his lips.
"Here, take a sip honey, what's the matter, did you have a snack before supper."
She knew it wasn't what he had eaten, but what she had feared, he connected the dots. Damn damn damn. Why now. She felt like crawling under the bed and disappearing.
He started coming out of the shock, his pupils opened up, he felt better. He lurched to his feet and went to the bathroom dropping his sweat soaked boxers on the way. She watched him go and out of nowhere she admired his butt. Yes a little spare tire, but very little, love handles really, and still a nice butt.
He left the door open and got into the shower as soon as he had adjusted it to a nice hot steamy temperature.
She couldn't help but think about what Tracy had said she should do with that nice butt, why had she told Tracy how cute it was. Oh no, did Tracy want to ... to him?
When he came out of the shower he found a fresh clean towel and his terry robe waiting for him draped over the vanity. He dried off and leaving the robe walked back into the room naked.
He watched as she finished making up the bed with fresh sheets. She looked up at him. Still in frightened turtle mode she thought to herself.
"It was all damp on your side, and we had the wet spot from earlier, I thought it best to just change it all."
He nodded but didn't say anything. He had to consciously stop himself from saying 'thank you'. He stepped to his dresser and found and put on fresh boxers and T-shirt. He stood a little uncertainly. Not sure what to do, she looked at him as she fluffed the pillows and placed them in new cases.
"Do you want me to go to the spare bedroom?" He looked at the ground as he said it.
She climbed straight over the bed toward him, worry etched on her face. She wrapped her arms around him, the side of her face against his chest.
"No no no. I love you and I want you here. Always."
"But, but."
"Shhhh shhh don't say anything. I love you. Give me a minute to think."
"To think up what to say." He said bitterly.
She realized that while she had her arms around him, his had stayed at his side. She took his arm and kissing his wrist tugged him toward the bed.
"Come, come here, just lay down, lay down and let me explain. Please."
He let her draw him to the bed. She pulled the clean crisp sheets back and helped him in. She had his pillow right there, and the one that he liked to keep under or between his knees depending how he lay was there also.
He turned on his side, away from her, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, but he didn't know what to do. He was afraid to start a conversation, afraid of what he might hear.
She was hurt when he turned away from him, but she saw it for what it was, he was trying to protect himself from her, from what she might say. She got under the sheets and snuggled up behind him.
"Honey, I love you. Please please remember that. I never want to leave you."
The words tumbled out of her, she didn't seem able to stop them. Tim listened, or part of him did, part of his brain focused on how he reacted to the idea of June cheating. How could he have been such a wuss as to nearly faint?
The story that June was telling fell into the background as he berated himself for being weak, he should have been more manly, yelled, slapped her, kicked her out into the street in her nightgown.
Meanwhile June continued to open herself up to him, telling him all. How she was invited to go out with a few other 'girls' from work, just a drink or two on the way home. It started innocently enough.
Part of Tim's brain listened as June told him how much fun it was to let go, laugh with her friends, how they started rating the men they saw trying to pick up the younger women at the bar.
Tim thought about how sometimes he and a friend or two from work would stop for a few beers after work at similar places, how they speculated about the women they could see, sometimes to themselves, sometimes in quiet tones to the others. What June was telling him didn't seem to different, why did she seem upset.
Wait, did she say dancing?
June talked about the first time a man came to their table and asked one of her friends to dance. It was Kristen, who was recently divorced. How they all watched as this young man danced with their friend.
OK, with her friend. That's nothing to be upset about.
June continued with how things escalated from one week to the next. How one week they went out twice. How she noticed that Kristen, and then the others started to dress a little more provocatively. How she stopped off and looked at then bought some new outfits for herself.
She does look a lot sexier, that's what made me notice. Why didn't she do that for me? Because I'm a dud you idiot. I was the one she was looking to for direction in bed. I never did vary or question out loud how dull things were. Dumbass. Hold on there, I was afraid to bring things up, why didn't she?
June stopped talking and her voice sounded pained, he could tell she was trying not to cry.
"Tim, oh Tim, I never thought you would want to do things differently in bed, you've always liked to keep to a routine for everything, I was afraid to ask you if we could try something different."
"I'm sorry June, I was afraid too."
"We're a pair of dunces aren't we."
"Well now we've cleared the air. I love the new look, and whatever happened, has happened, we can start over new."
There was a long silence. June groaned inside. There was so much more to tell.
"I didn't finish telling you about things at the club."
"I suppose you danced with someone?"
"Yes, I had so much fun, it was sexy, but I thought it was safe, the others where there. I know I shouldn't have, but it was so exciting, they complimented me, they flattered my, they tried to feel my bottom, sometimes my breasts. It was scary and exciting all at the same time. I should have told you."
Oh god he thought, she found some guy, some Romeo who dances, who has all the patter, all the things I have trouble with, heck, I've got two left feet and can't think of anything to say in those situations, until too late.
"Then one night, there was this one guy. He was kind of slimy. I found excuses to turn him down, but then the girls left and I was in the powder room, he intercepted me on the way out. He insisted, so I went to the dance floor and he was getting really handy."
"Touching you?"
Oh god, Tim was thinking, please don't tell me, don't tell me you fucked him.
"Yes, and talking about what we would do in his room. I was having a hard time getting away, then Tracy came to my rescue."
"Tracy?"
Who was Tracy, he hadn't heard June mention a friend named Tracy before.
"She was someone I had seen before, she's been at our table a few times, just someone we met and invited to sit with us. Not from work."
"She got rid of the guy?"
"He tried to come on to her as well, she used her knee, then walked him to a table and sat him down. She took my hand and we left in her car."
"Her car? What happened then, where did you go?"
"Another place, quieter. We sat and talked. There wasn't dancing. She was very nice and calmed me down. Later she drove me back to get my car."
"That was good of her."
"And I saw her again, at first with the girls, then, I would just go meet her, just the two of us. She took me to a new place, I didn't realize it at first, it was all same-sex couples. We danced."
"You were in a gay bar dancing with another woman?" He sounded more puzzled than worried or mad when he said that.
That's not as bad as with a man, is it? Or is it worse? Tim thought to himself, trying to picture June with another woman, in his mind he kept seeing June naked with this other woman. He groaned out loud.
"I'm sorry, it just happened, one day we kissed, and then made out in her car, then mine. Finally one time we just met and got a room."
June turned her face to her pillow and sobbed.
Tim rolled over and put his arms around her, spooning her from behind. He didn't say anything, just made comforting noises as he stroked her hair from behind. She slowly quieted down.
"Are you still seeing her?"
She nodded her head without saying anything.
"Are you a lesbian?"
She shook her head.
"Bi, I guess," she whispered. "At least with her."
"I guess you enjoy it, but because it is different and naughty, or is it something you'll always want now?"
"She's very forceful."
She hadn't answered his question, partly because she just didn't know, but also because she wanted to explain how totally Tracy dominated her.
When she said 'forceful' Tim started thinking of whips, riding crops, he imagined June tied spread-eagle on a bed, with her lesbian lover squatting over her head. His cock stirred.
"Forceful? As in Dominant?"
Ohgodohgodohgod what do I say now? June thought to herself, I love him but I can't leave her, and the pictures she took, what would he think.
"Yes" came out very quietly.
"Do you enjoy it, being submissive to her? Or to anyone?"
"To her at least, I'm not sure about, about ... it's only been her. It's so different, I just let go, let her tell me what to do."
She was silent for a while, then very very quietly, so quiet that Tim barely heard and wasn't completely sure what she said.
"She tells me to cum and it's so so massive."
"You don't want to leave her do you? Or could you leave her?"
"I don't know, I want to stay with you, I don't know what to do."
Tim was quiet as he thought.
"I love you too honey, I don't want to break up, I want to work things out. I can be more, more whatever you need. I know it wouldn't be the same."
A soft glow filled her and she felt guilty at the same time. She thought about what Tracy had told her to do. She wanted Tracy to be proud of her, but she couldn't hurt Tim, she felt guilty for scheming, but she couldn't help it.
"Honey, are you OK?" He worried she had been silent for so long.
"I feel so guilty, She wanted me to do something, I was putting it off, I was going to put it off forever, but now, I don't know, it makes me feel like a traitor to you."
"She wants you to leave me? Do you want to?"
"No, worse. She wants to meet you, here, for dinner and then drinks and then...."
She couldn't go on, it sounded so bad. She became aware that he had an erection pressing against her bottom, she automatically shifted just enough to line it up between her cheeks.
Tim was thinking ahead of her, this Tracy wanted to have sex with his wife, fuck his wife. Here. At home. In this bed. While he was here. Dinner and drinks, conversation, then the two of them go off to the bedroom, the marriage bed. This Tracy on his side of the bed, naked, with his wife while I stay downstairs and clean up, do the dishes. What next, serve them breakfast in bed the next morning?
"She wants you to come here with her, our bedroom, our bed, sex. In our bed. What do I do, pull the covers back and then wish you two a good time and go down and do the dishes?"
He was hard, whatever he felt about them doing what he just described, no matter how humiliating he thought it would be, how awful to give his wife away like that, his cock got hard. He felt her push back at it. He pushed forward.
June let out a moan. He kissed her neck, he kissed behind her ear.
"Yes."
"And you want to do it, do that with me here."
"No, I love you, I don't know. She has pictures."
Tim thought for a second about pictures, he imagined all the fetish pictures he had seen on-line of submissive women, dominant women with submissive women, his cock throbbed. His traitor cock.
"Do you want me to ... to get them back, to 'take care' of her?"
She was frightened now, very frightened, she had been afraid of what he might do, he was so nice, so stable. But he had been in the army, been in combat, she knew he had a gun, guns. Mostly inherited from his father, but he used to go target shooting, what did he call it, plinking? And skeet, and sporting clays. He used to hunt with his father when he was a teenager. What would he do.
"What do you mean?"
"We've seen all those true crime type forensic shows, they're so popular, we could start making a list of all the mistakes people have made, how they got caught. Figure something out."
"You would do that?"
"I don't know. If you were threatened, if you were being forced." He couldn't go on. He knew that he probably couldn't. But if someone was hurting her, what would he do?
"No, I don't want you to hurt her, or go to jail. Do you understand?"
"So you belong to her? You're her slut!" His voice wasn't raised, almost a whisper. She shivered.
His hand slid around her, he cupped her breast and kissed her again behind the ear.
"You wouldn't let me take pictures."
He pushed with his hips, his cock tenting his boxers, pushing into her panties.
"Slut" Almost a whisper. She whimpered in answer and pushed her bottom back at him.
He pulled his boxers off, yanked at her panties, the waist-band stung as he pulled until it tore, ripped them off her legs.
"Bitch, cheater."
She moaned as his hand clasped the back of her neck, pressed her down as his other hand reached between her legs, cupped her mound and pulled up.
"Whore."
She spread her legs and got her head turned sideways, he held it there, her ear mashed into the bed, his hand on her face, thumb on her neck below her jaw. He could feel her carotid artery pulse against his thumb as his ring finger pushed into her ear.
Her hearing muffled by the bed on one ear and his finger in the other, one hand twisted under her. She reached back, reached to her drooling pussy and spread the lips apart.
He guided his rampant cock into her depths, shoved all the way in with one push. He felt her shaved lips and mound with his hand, felt her hand working her clit. It hit him that she shaved herself for this Tracy, he recalled suggesting it when they were newlyweds and being made to feel like an insensitive boor at the time. He had been so happy to see her bare a month or two ago that he never questioned it.
"Cunt! Lying Cunt!" He yelled out as he plunged into her. He pushed her hand away from her clit, grasped her other hand and pulled it behind her back, twisting it up. Fuck her fuck her fuck her.
He let go of her hand and reached forward, He pushed her short gown down around her shoulders, he saw her arch her back and push back at him.
He grabbed her shoulder. One hand now still on her head, plugging her ear and feeling her pulse, the other on her shoulder yanking her back with each thrust. Not that he needed to, she was pushing back as hard as she could.
He felt her hand back on her clit, it also stroked his cock as he pumped into her. He wished the lights were on. The glow from her clock-radio on the nightstand, and the nightlight shining through the bathroom door barely lit things up and left shadows of blackness.
He stared at her face, covered partly by his hand, he saw her eye glint at him, her mouth open. Fuck her, fuck her fuck her.
"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" She was chanting in time to his plunges.
He panted in time with his strokes into her, hard, banging his hips forward, slamming into her.
"Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck."
That damned bitch, taking my wife, fucking my wife, stealing my wife, trying to move into our house, rub my nose into it, forcing me to be nice while she fucks my June. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
That slut, that fucking slut, all those years, all those quiet years making me think she was some innocent goody-two-shoes, slinking behind my back, laughing at me behind my back, cheating cheating cheating, coming back to me probably still tasting her cunt on her tongue, thinking about her while we ... laughing at my stupid stupid stupid.
Ohgodohgod I love him love him, I'm going to cum, he's so forceful, he's throwing me around like a puppet, he's angry and he's making me cum making me cum making me cum.
Suddenly she jerked, she spasmed, she wailed out a long warbling sound and he felt her pussy grasp him tighter than before and pulse around his cock as she came.
He shut his eyes and thrust hard into her as he came, the pulses of his cum shot down his cock again and again as he filled her for the second time that night.
Her pulse was hammering under his thumb, he thought about pushing his thumb down hard, cutting off the oxygen to her brain. But when all was said and done he did still love her.
He was appalled at how he treated her, but he did make her cum from fucking. That felt good. He knew in his heart that he would never make a cave man. But if felt good to act like one for a while. He saw that she was smiling. Was she laughing at me, or happy with me?
He pulled out and flopped down beside her on his back, she reached for the bedside light and switched it on. She lay on her back, naked, her gown still rucked up above her breasts, she pulled it off.
He saw how her neck and upper chest were mottled red, all the way down the tops of her tits. Her thick long nipples stuck out hard. The image of clips holding them with a chain between them came to his mind. Did women do that sort of thing to each other? Did anybody outside of the porn industry?
"I have to pee."
"I have to clean up." She answered as she started to get up, her hand cuppiing her pussy.
Once again something clicked in his brain. It always bothered him that she couldn't stand to have his cum in her. He always liked to see it oozing down when she got up. She thought it was gross. But then he had a second of thinking about it from her point of view, it probably felt icky. He pushed that thought away.
He grabbed her upper arm, his face so grim that she held her tongue and let him push half jogging to the bathroom, he pushed her down on her back in the tub, grabbing one leg he held it up and out with his left hand. He turned the water on. She screeched upright then flopped back when the cold water hit.
He adjusted the shower by roughly turning it a little warmer, but didn't fine tune it. Her roughly grabbed a washrag in one hand and soaped it up with the bar in the holder. Without uttering a word he scrubbed her, first her pussy then all of her front then pulled her to all fours and scrubbed her back. Finally soaping and scrubbing between her bottom cheeks, he lingered on her bottom.
He always thought that she had a beautiful bottom, he wasn't rough any more he carefully soaped and washed between her legs, almost lovingly, in marked contrast to how he scrubbed her earlier.
June didn't know how to feel. She didn't understand what or why, she loved the way he mounted and fucked her a minute ago, but washing her like she was a pet dog, and with the water so cold. It didn't start to heat up until he was nearly done. And spreading her legs open like that, so the water hit right on her pussy.
It came to her in a rush. The pussy she was going to clean of his cum, his essence. She thought it an odd quirk that after sex he didn't need to wash his cock, until the morning, even thought he usually had to pee. Just as he never washed his face after going down on her, or his fingers, until the next morning. She had even seen him surreptitiously lift his fingers to his nose and take a deep breath the day after sex with her.
He liked her smell. Once years ago he had remarked that she had 'marked him' and now, apparently, he had marked her. But then washed her. She decided that he was making a statement about how he felt about her rushing to clean herself almost the second he finished in her. It did feel a little icky, and even if he didn't mind the sounds coming from a full and squishy pussy, she was mortified by them.
He gently lifted her out of the tub and carefully patted her down with a fresh towel, he even bundled her hair up in another towel, just the way she did it. She realized that he had noticed a lot more about her than she thought.
When he had dried her off he plugged in her hair dryer and taking the towel off her head he gently worked the blow dryer and a brush until it was dry and brushed out. Then, still without a word he walked her to his side of the bed, the side without any wet spot she realized, and put her to bed, naked.
"Would you like me to go to the spare room?"
"No please, cuddle up to me."
They got into bed together, he spooned her from behind, his arm under her pillow, they quickly fell asleep. Both knowing that there was a lot to be worked out still, but they could do it another day.
End of chapter one, to be continued.
June: 43 Years old she is 5 feet 8 inches tall with large C cup breasts and long thick nipples. She worries about, but her husband loves, her lush figure with curving hips and round bottom. She loves to read 'lady-porn' romances and daydreams about wild exciting sex, but knows her husband is conservative and staid.
Tim: 45 years old and 5 feet 10 inches tall he has a slight spare tire. He walks and jogs regularly, and tries to eat well. Has always liked an orderly way of life. But also has a wild imagination. He loves his wife and assumes that as a 'nice' girl she would be shocked and disgusted by the fantasies he has had over the years.
Tim works a regular 5 day week and is rarely needed on on weekends. June works 4 half days as a book keeper, split between two small businesses, a smart ladies boutique and a small store that sold dance and exercise clothes and uniform wear in the front, and fetish costumes in the rear. She is secretly titillated to work there, and dreams about wearing some of the costumes.
oooOOOooo
June was crouched on her spread knees, holding onto the headboard in front of her. Tim was on his back, head between her knees as she lowered her pussy to his face. He had a lot of practice doing this, he loved her taste, her smell, although she didn't really understand how he enjoyed her scent even after a day at work.
"Mmmffff, mmmm, yes, there honey, oh honey, oh Tim, yes yes yes."
She pushed down, down onto her husband. Tim couldn't breathe, couldn't really see as she squeezed her thighs together around his head. One hand was reaching up and caressing her bottom, he loved the curves of her butt, clothed or not, it was lovely. He had dark fantasies about her bottom, but knew to keep them to himself.
His other hand reached to her breast, her tit, hanging down beyond his head, he loved her nipples, he loved they way they had gotten longer and thicker when she nursed the twins all those years before. He loved the way they swung when she was bent over. Loved it. Wanted to take videos and pictures of her, of them, of all of her, but knew better than to ever again ask to do that.
June loved the way he licked her, loved what he did to her nipples. They had a very limited number of things they did in bed, but they did them well, after all they had more than twenty years to practice. She loved to crouch over him, she had been appalled when he first wanted to do that, it had taken several years for him to convince her to do it. But she loved it now. And she came, came, came, pushing and thrusting and rolling her hips, mashing against his face.
They had both been brought up in conservative families without really knowing much about sex. Tim had a little more experience than she did, and had read more about sex. Together they had learned to please each other. They had only two main positions for sex, missionary and when she rode him. Occasionally they did doggy style. For so long she thought that it was wrong that way, but now she got a secret thrill whenever they did it.
Lately she had been getting a lot of secret thrills. No, stop thinking about that she told herself. Let up, let him breathe, god he would let me suffocate him if I wasn't careful.
She lifted off of him and lay down beside him, her turned to her, kissed her. She loved it. At first she didn't like to smell her own scent, but then she got used to it. Now she loved the idea that he would go down on her, it was so naughty, so decadent.
Tim kissed her, slowly nibbled at her lips, slipped his tongue into her, just a bit, slowly sliding it back and forth between her lips, before finding her tongue and gently sliding against it, the two of them taking turns being the aggressor with their tongues.
Tim pulled her over him, spreading her legs to straddle him. He could tell she was lazy after her cum, the one problem with going down on her first.
"I love you June, love you love you love you."
"Oh Tim, you're just saying that." She laughed as he held his rigid cock and pushed it up and down her slit.
"I know you're tired honey, but I'm lazy, and I know you wouldn't want to let me cum in you first, before I went down."
He pushed into her. June was a little shocked, and it showed on her face. She knew he was just kidding, no way would she allow him to go down on her after he had cum in her. Ewwwwww she automatically said to herself. Then a thrill ran up her back, a chill, almost another cum, she felt her hips thrust forward out of control at that thought.
What was she thinking! So many things lately, poor Tim, always a routine with a set number of variables. Like a train on a track, a limited number of switches to adjoining tracks. Very limited, why was she thinking about those other tracks, all the way over there, never before, now, now was different, poor Tim. Oh Tim I love him so, how can I ... stop, don't think about that now. Think of Tim.
I love her so much, so much, I should have done more to encourage her, us, to do different things when we were first married, it was all so new to both of us. She said she had never cum with a man, with anyone before, had to concentrate on her.
If only, if only. She only likes a few things. It's really a miracle that we doing more than just missionary. I wish I could get her to cum on my cock. I love going down, she tastes so good, so sexy, but it would be nice if she'd cum on my cock.
If only. I do love her, she is so wonderful. Her pussy is so snug, even after the twins, thank god the doctor told her to do those exercises. I think she must still practice.
She felt him pick up the pace, she loved him but worried about ... No. Don't think about that, not yet, maybe later when he's asleep. I can't stop thinking about ....
She put her hand on her clit as he drove in and out of her as she rode him, their bodies working in a well practiced rhythm. He was massaging her breasts and pulling on her nipples, they were both panting. She loved the feeling of him inside her, even if she had never cum from just his cock, but rubbing her clit brought her so close, so close so close.
He shot into her, it was good, but. Yes but. What's the matter with me. When we first got married it was soooooo very good. It still is. But if only we could experiment.
June loved it, loved the feeling, nearly cumming, nearly, nearly, she rubbed herself against his pubic bone, her mons mashing against him as she pushed and pushed, his cock slowly slowly deflating. He pulled hard at her nipples, but no use. She lay down on him, they kissed deeply and romantically as his hands roamed her back, cupping her bottom.
Then she got up. She jumped up and practically ran to the bathroom, her hand over her pussy. The door slammed and he heard water running. He kept the picture of her bottom jiggling and her tits swaying as she ran to the bathroom, she was so sexy.
I wonder if I could talk her into going bra-less around the house? I love that she started shaving her pussy, and all on her own. God she put up a fuss when I asked her about it, when, ten years ago, fifteen, more? I wonder why she suddenly did it, she never mentioned it either, just showed up like that.
She came out, still naked, smiling, her face full of joy and love. A washrag in her hand, she knelt beside him, her hand on his tummy, then carefully wiped the washcloth over his cheeks. She beamed at him. Then slowly and sensually cleaned his cock.
"You don't have to do that honey, you know I love you, I love your scent."
She pouted a little bit, mostly in play.
"Now darling, don't be silly. I can't have you smelling like that, even if tomorrow is Saturday, what if someone came over. What if there was a tornado tonight and we had to run to the basement and the house got blown away. What would the neighbors think when we climbed out of the wreckage?"
"They'd think that we had been having some fun." He grinned up at her.
"Hush, don't you say it." She laughed and went into the bathroom and rinsed out the washcloth. She put on a short plain cotton night-gown, then came back to bed and snuggled up, he spooned in behind her after he put his boxers back on.
As much as June didn't like to feel the cum oozing out of her, she had hated the feeling of Tim wearing a condom, so after the twins were born she had her tubes tied and he had a vasectomy. Both of them had separately hoped at the time that these would lead to a more uninhibited sex life, but the trials of raising twin infants had actually put a stop to any sex for some time.
Lately Tim had noticed a change in June, she had been a little more lively at home, but at the same time she seemed to be spending more time away from home, several nights she had been out when he got home from work, and she regularly went on on a 'girls night' with the ladies from the boutique.
He had also noticed that she was wearing more new clothing, it had a slightly more modern look, slightly shorter skirts, slightly lower or more open in the front. He had even been able to look down her blouse a few times in the last month. She hadn't noticed and acted like nothing was different. Not even returning or acknowledging some of the flirty comments he made.
Something was different, slightly different. Subtly different, and it worried him that she acted like nothing was. If that made sense. He knew that the stories he read about wives stepping out on their husbands were fiction and he couldn't rely on them to use as a standard for normal behavior. Still, he was a little worried.
Tim ran his hand up and down her side, over her hips and down her thighs as far as he could reach, running back, then down to cup her beautiful tummy, and up to cup her breast. June secretly loved it that he caressed her. She wanted to go back to fingering her pussy and clit, but thought it was too brazen for Tim, so soon after.
She was lazy and feeling good, slowly coming down from her sexual high, still slightly turned on, half formed sexual fantasies playing through the theater of her mind. If only Tim were more open, she would love to share them with him, maybe he would be excited if she told him about ... no, not that. He would leave me. Maybe I deserve it. No, stop thinking about that ....
"How are you feeling honey?" Tim asked.
"Nice, warm, cozy, snuggly, very nice."
Tim was quiet for a while, he wanted to talk about their lack of exploration and about her, some things had been troubling him, but he was afraid to do anything to frighten or make her think less of him.
"Nothing bothering you?" He asked very quietly.
"What do you mean?"
She was on her way to falling asleep. Something she had been associating with their sex lately, not in a bad way, just not like the fantasies she had always read about. Not like ... her mind stopped thinking about that particular, separate and private thing. It seemed disloyal to think about it in bed with her husband.
"You seemed a bit distracted, not just now necessarily, but in general, like you have something on your mind."
"Not necessarily like just now, but maybe a little?" She probed, what was he thinking about?
"It's not like I have ever been able to light a roaring blaze in our lovemaking." There, he said it, got it off his chest, and hopefully said it so that she didn't think he was criticizing her.
What was he thinking about, she wondered. We've always done it this way, I'm the one that has the wild fantasies, did he somehow find out? Did I leave one of my secret sites open on my laptop? Did he snoop, or just see it somehow? Need to play it safe and feel him out. Darn, I wanted to be rested tomorrow.
"I've never complained honey, what makes you think I'm not happy? You always make sure to take care of me first."
"No, nothing like that, but I know we always do the same thing. Not like you fantasize about when you're younger, no fireworks or bombs going off."
Oh my gosh, surely he doesn't think we're boring too? Does he have any secret fantasies? How do I say this. Oh no, not now, not now that I've.... Not now. Why not last year.
"What are you thinking of honey?" That's it, let him spell it out.
"I don't know, just more, more pizzazz. More fun. We never laugh when we're making love, or yell, or anything like that."
"Do you want me to start telling jokes?" She knew she was being flippant, but was getting nervous about where this was going.
There was a pause, she worried that her comment had pissed him off, or made him clam up, she wanted to keep talking about this, and she didn't. He was trying to decide if he should keep up the questioning. He finally answered.
"No, you know better than that. It's just that maybe when we were first married we should have experimented more, been more daring, tried different things. Been spontaneous."
She was worried that he was going on a mid life crisis now, she had done some exploring on her own and now she was a nervous wreck with what he was saying.
"And now after all these years you want to start sucking my toes? Is that it?"
"Toes, no. Unless you think it would be sexy. Then I would. Is that what you would like?"
Toes? Oh no, where did that come from? Why did I say that, she thought.
"No, I just threw that out, something different. No I don't want you to suck them. It was just something I threw out that sounded like a kinky person might do"
"OK, but maybe we could try something new?"
"Like what? I'm not sure what you are talking about."
Now I'm stuck he thought, what do I want?
"I don't know, maybe not in the bedroom sometime, just on the spur of the moment when one of us is in the mood. Or with the lights on. Or ...."
There was silence for a while. She was thinking, he was thinking. She actually felt as if she could be getting a little moist again. Was his thing starting to push against her bottom through his boxers?
"Talking dirty? Do you want to talk nasty, or me to do it, or both? Would you like that?"
Wow he was thinking, a little shell shocked, he didn't know where this conversation was going to go when he started it, but he sure as heck didn't think she would mention talking dirty.
"Yeah, yeah, you could, that would be hot. Maybe we could tell stories to each other, or read them out loud."
"Stories? Like the slam bang porn you like?"
"I don't know if I like what you think I do, but you could pick it, whatever you like."
She was in shock, he was frustrated too. Why didn't she see that. She thought he was just a nice guy who liked the boring predictable. Or wants a whore. Tracy said he probably wanted some tarted up tramp. Maybe he wants me to be .... sexier?
Tracy, oh no. How, does he know, suspect?
"Why are you talking about this all of a sudden, you said I was acting funny, how funny?"
"I didn't say funny, just distracted, but that's not right. More like you were thinking of something else, but you've been more perky too, dressing a little differently, but like it was for work, or for something else ... or...."
He said it out-loud, then he got what he was saying, like she was doing it not for something else, but someone else. He whispered in the silence.
"Someone else."
She froze, she could see how it came to him just now, like his subconscious got it and shoved it out in front of him.
"S. S. s s someone else?"
He was blasted away by what he was thinking, his wife was bored with him and she was seeing someone else, the kids were out of the house, was she getting ready to leave? Who.
He was shaking, the half stiffy he was working on retreated like a tortoise pulling in its head. He felt nauseous, almost like he might hurl right there. His vision was tunneling in, he could only see straight ahead, he was clammy.
She reached back to touch him, reassure him, her hand hit just above the waist-band of his boxers on his bare skin, she was shocked at the damp clammy cold feel. She spun around to face him. In the darkness she could see his face was ghost white.
She clicked on her bedside lamp, his eyes looked weird, the pupils tiny and he started to shiver. He turned away and sat up, a mistake as his tunnel vision narrowed down to nearly nothing and he started to retch.
June had rushed around and grabbed the waste basket just in time as he bent and dry heaved, just a dribble splattered into the plastic store shopping bag lining the container.
She took the glass of water beside the bed and held it to his lips.
"Here, take a sip honey, what's the matter, did you have a snack before supper."
She knew it wasn't what he had eaten, but what she had feared, he connected the dots. Damn damn damn. Why now. She felt like crawling under the bed and disappearing.
He started coming out of the shock, his pupils opened up, he felt better. He lurched to his feet and went to the bathroom dropping his sweat soaked boxers on the way. She watched him go and out of nowhere she admired his butt. Yes a little spare tire, but very little, love handles really, and still a nice butt.
He left the door open and got into the shower as soon as he had adjusted it to a nice hot steamy temperature.
She couldn't help but think about what Tracy had said she should do with that nice butt, why had she told Tracy how cute it was. Oh no, did Tracy want to ... to him?
When he came out of the shower he found a fresh clean towel and his terry robe waiting for him draped over the vanity. He dried off and leaving the robe walked back into the room naked.
He watched as she finished making up the bed with fresh sheets. She looked up at him. Still in frightened turtle mode she thought to herself.
"It was all damp on your side, and we had the wet spot from earlier, I thought it best to just change it all."
He nodded but didn't say anything. He had to consciously stop himself from saying 'thank you'. He stepped to his dresser and found and put on fresh boxers and T-shirt. He stood a little uncertainly. Not sure what to do, she looked at him as she fluffed the pillows and placed them in new cases.
"Do you want me to go to the spare bedroom?" He looked at the ground as he said it.
She climbed straight over the bed toward him, worry etched on her face. She wrapped her arms around him, the side of her face against his chest.
"No no no. I love you and I want you here. Always."
"But, but."
"Shhhh shhh don't say anything. I love you. Give me a minute to think."
"To think up what to say." He said bitterly.
She realized that while she had her arms around him, his had stayed at his side. She took his arm and kissing his wrist tugged him toward the bed.
"Come, come here, just lay down, lay down and let me explain. Please."
He let her draw him to the bed. She pulled the clean crisp sheets back and helped him in. She had his pillow right there, and the one that he liked to keep under or between his knees depending how he lay was there also.
He turned on his side, away from her, he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, but he didn't know what to do. He was afraid to start a conversation, afraid of what he might hear.
She was hurt when he turned away from him, but she saw it for what it was, he was trying to protect himself from her, from what she might say. She got under the sheets and snuggled up behind him.
"Honey, I love you. Please please remember that. I never want to leave you."
The words tumbled out of her, she didn't seem able to stop them. Tim listened, or part of him did, part of his brain focused on how he reacted to the idea of June cheating. How could he have been such a wuss as to nearly faint?
The story that June was telling fell into the background as he berated himself for being weak, he should have been more manly, yelled, slapped her, kicked her out into the street in her nightgown.
Meanwhile June continued to open herself up to him, telling him all. How she was invited to go out with a few other 'girls' from work, just a drink or two on the way home. It started innocently enough.
Part of Tim's brain listened as June told him how much fun it was to let go, laugh with her friends, how they started rating the men they saw trying to pick up the younger women at the bar.
Tim thought about how sometimes he and a friend or two from work would stop for a few beers after work at similar places, how they speculated about the women they could see, sometimes to themselves, sometimes in quiet tones to the others. What June was telling him didn't seem to different, why did she seem upset.
Wait, did she say dancing?
June talked about the first time a man came to their table and asked one of her friends to dance. It was Kristen, who was recently divorced. How they all watched as this young man danced with their friend.
OK, with her friend. That's nothing to be upset about.
June continued with how things escalated from one week to the next. How one week they went out twice. How she noticed that Kristen, and then the others started to dress a little more provocatively. How she stopped off and looked at then bought some new outfits for herself.
She does look a lot sexier, that's what made me notice. Why didn't she do that for me? Because I'm a dud you idiot. I was the one she was looking to for direction in bed. I never did vary or question out loud how dull things were. Dumbass. Hold on there, I was afraid to bring things up, why didn't she?
June stopped talking and her voice sounded pained, he could tell she was trying not to cry.
"Tim, oh Tim, I never thought you would want to do things differently in bed, you've always liked to keep to a routine for everything, I was afraid to ask you if we could try something different."
"I'm sorry June, I was afraid too."
"We're a pair of dunces aren't we."
"Well now we've cleared the air. I love the new look, and whatever happened, has happened, we can start over new."
There was a long silence. June groaned inside. There was so much more to tell.
"I didn't finish telling you about things at the club."
"I suppose you danced with someone?"
"Yes, I had so much fun, it was sexy, but I thought it was safe, the others where there. I know I shouldn't have, but it was so exciting, they complimented me, they flattered my, they tried to feel my bottom, sometimes my breasts. It was scary and exciting all at the same time. I should have told you."
Oh god he thought, she found some guy, some Romeo who dances, who has all the patter, all the things I have trouble with, heck, I've got two left feet and can't think of anything to say in those situations, until too late.
"Then one night, there was this one guy. He was kind of slimy. I found excuses to turn him down, but then the girls left and I was in the powder room, he intercepted me on the way out. He insisted, so I went to the dance floor and he was getting really handy."
"Touching you?"
Oh god, Tim was thinking, please don't tell me, don't tell me you fucked him.
"Yes, and talking about what we would do in his room. I was having a hard time getting away, then Tracy came to my rescue."
"Tracy?"
Who was Tracy, he hadn't heard June mention a friend named Tracy before.
"She was someone I had seen before, she's been at our table a few times, just someone we met and invited to sit with us. Not from work."
"She got rid of the guy?"
"He tried to come on to her as well, she used her knee, then walked him to a table and sat him down. She took my hand and we left in her car."
"Her car? What happened then, where did you go?"
"Another place, quieter. We sat and talked. There wasn't dancing. She was very nice and calmed me down. Later she drove me back to get my car."
"That was good of her."
"And I saw her again, at first with the girls, then, I would just go meet her, just the two of us. She took me to a new place, I didn't realize it at first, it was all same-sex couples. We danced."
"You were in a gay bar dancing with another woman?" He sounded more puzzled than worried or mad when he said that.
That's not as bad as with a man, is it? Or is it worse? Tim thought to himself, trying to picture June with another woman, in his mind he kept seeing June naked with this other woman. He groaned out loud.
"I'm sorry, it just happened, one day we kissed, and then made out in her car, then mine. Finally one time we just met and got a room."
June turned her face to her pillow and sobbed.
Tim rolled over and put his arms around her, spooning her from behind. He didn't say anything, just made comforting noises as he stroked her hair from behind. She slowly quieted down.
"Are you still seeing her?"
She nodded her head without saying anything.
"Are you a lesbian?"
She shook her head.
"Bi, I guess," she whispered. "At least with her."
"I guess you enjoy it, but because it is different and naughty, or is it something you'll always want now?"
"She's very forceful."
She hadn't answered his question, partly because she just didn't know, but also because she wanted to explain how totally Tracy dominated her.
When she said 'forceful' Tim started thinking of whips, riding crops, he imagined June tied spread-eagle on a bed, with her lesbian lover squatting over her head. His cock stirred.
"Forceful? As in Dominant?"
Ohgodohgodohgod what do I say now? June thought to herself, I love him but I can't leave her, and the pictures she took, what would he think.
"Yes" came out very quietly.
"Do you enjoy it, being submissive to her? Or to anyone?"
"To her at least, I'm not sure about, about ... it's only been her. It's so different, I just let go, let her tell me what to do."
She was silent for a while, then very very quietly, so quiet that Tim barely heard and wasn't completely sure what she said.
"She tells me to cum and it's so so massive."
"You don't want to leave her do you? Or could you leave her?"
"I don't know, I want to stay with you, I don't know what to do."
Tim was quiet as he thought.
"I love you too honey, I don't want to break up, I want to work things out. I can be more, more whatever you need. I know it wouldn't be the same."
A soft glow filled her and she felt guilty at the same time. She thought about what Tracy had told her to do. She wanted Tracy to be proud of her, but she couldn't hurt Tim, she felt guilty for scheming, but she couldn't help it.
"Honey, are you OK?" He worried she had been silent for so long.
"I feel so guilty, She wanted me to do something, I was putting it off, I was going to put it off forever, but now, I don't know, it makes me feel like a traitor to you."
"She wants you to leave me? Do you want to?"
"No, worse. She wants to meet you, here, for dinner and then drinks and then...."
She couldn't go on, it sounded so bad. She became aware that he had an erection pressing against her bottom, she automatically shifted just enough to line it up between her cheeks.
Tim was thinking ahead of her, this Tracy wanted to have sex with his wife, fuck his wife. Here. At home. In this bed. While he was here. Dinner and drinks, conversation, then the two of them go off to the bedroom, the marriage bed. This Tracy on his side of the bed, naked, with his wife while I stay downstairs and clean up, do the dishes. What next, serve them breakfast in bed the next morning?
"She wants you to come here with her, our bedroom, our bed, sex. In our bed. What do I do, pull the covers back and then wish you two a good time and go down and do the dishes?"
He was hard, whatever he felt about them doing what he just described, no matter how humiliating he thought it would be, how awful to give his wife away like that, his cock got hard. He felt her push back at it. He pushed forward.
June let out a moan. He kissed her neck, he kissed behind her ear.
"Yes."
"And you want to do it, do that with me here."
"No, I love you, I don't know. She has pictures."
Tim thought for a second about pictures, he imagined all the fetish pictures he had seen on-line of submissive women, dominant women with submissive women, his cock throbbed. His traitor cock.
"Do you want me to ... to get them back, to 'take care' of her?"
She was frightened now, very frightened, she had been afraid of what he might do, he was so nice, so stable. But he had been in the army, been in combat, she knew he had a gun, guns. Mostly inherited from his father, but he used to go target shooting, what did he call it, plinking? And skeet, and sporting clays. He used to hunt with his father when he was a teenager. What would he do.
"What do you mean?"
"We've seen all those true crime type forensic shows, they're so popular, we could start making a list of all the mistakes people have made, how they got caught. Figure something out."
"You would do that?"
"I don't know. If you were threatened, if you were being forced." He couldn't go on. He knew that he probably couldn't. But if someone was hurting her, what would he do?
"No, I don't want you to hurt her, or go to jail. Do you understand?"
"So you belong to her? You're her slut!" His voice wasn't raised, almost a whisper. She shivered.
His hand slid around her, he cupped her breast and kissed her again behind the ear.
"You wouldn't let me take pictures."
He pushed with his hips, his cock tenting his boxers, pushing into her panties.
"Slut" Almost a whisper. She whimpered in answer and pushed her bottom back at him.
He pulled his boxers off, yanked at her panties, the waist-band stung as he pulled until it tore, ripped them off her legs.
"Bitch, cheater."
She moaned as his hand clasped the back of her neck, pressed her down as his other hand reached between her legs, cupped her mound and pulled up.
"Whore."
She spread her legs and got her head turned sideways, he held it there, her ear mashed into the bed, his hand on her face, thumb on her neck below her jaw. He could feel her carotid artery pulse against his thumb as his ring finger pushed into her ear.
Her hearing muffled by the bed on one ear and his finger in the other, one hand twisted under her. She reached back, reached to her drooling pussy and spread the lips apart.
He guided his rampant cock into her depths, shoved all the way in with one push. He felt her shaved lips and mound with his hand, felt her hand working her clit. It hit him that she shaved herself for this Tracy, he recalled suggesting it when they were newlyweds and being made to feel like an insensitive boor at the time. He had been so happy to see her bare a month or two ago that he never questioned it.
"Cunt! Lying Cunt!" He yelled out as he plunged into her. He pushed her hand away from her clit, grasped her other hand and pulled it behind her back, twisting it up. Fuck her fuck her fuck her.
He let go of her hand and reached forward, He pushed her short gown down around her shoulders, he saw her arch her back and push back at him.
He grabbed her shoulder. One hand now still on her head, plugging her ear and feeling her pulse, the other on her shoulder yanking her back with each thrust. Not that he needed to, she was pushing back as hard as she could.
He felt her hand back on her clit, it also stroked his cock as he pumped into her. He wished the lights were on. The glow from her clock-radio on the nightstand, and the nightlight shining through the bathroom door barely lit things up and left shadows of blackness.
He stared at her face, covered partly by his hand, he saw her eye glint at him, her mouth open. Fuck her, fuck her fuck her.
"Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" She was chanting in time to his plunges.
He panted in time with his strokes into her, hard, banging his hips forward, slamming into her.
"Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck."
That damned bitch, taking my wife, fucking my wife, stealing my wife, trying to move into our house, rub my nose into it, forcing me to be nice while she fucks my June. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
That slut, that fucking slut, all those years, all those quiet years making me think she was some innocent goody-two-shoes, slinking behind my back, laughing at me behind my back, cheating cheating cheating, coming back to me probably still tasting her cunt on her tongue, thinking about her while we ... laughing at my stupid stupid stupid.
Ohgodohgod I love him love him, I'm going to cum, he's so forceful, he's throwing me around like a puppet, he's angry and he's making me cum making me cum making me cum.
Suddenly she jerked, she spasmed, she wailed out a long warbling sound and he felt her pussy grasp him tighter than before and pulse around his cock as she came.
He shut his eyes and thrust hard into her as he came, the pulses of his cum shot down his cock again and again as he filled her for the second time that night.
Her pulse was hammering under his thumb, he thought about pushing his thumb down hard, cutting off the oxygen to her brain. But when all was said and done he did still love her.
He was appalled at how he treated her, but he did make her cum from fucking. That felt good. He knew in his heart that he would never make a cave man. But if felt good to act like one for a while. He saw that she was smiling. Was she laughing at me, or happy with me?
He pulled out and flopped down beside her on his back, she reached for the bedside light and switched it on. She lay on her back, naked, her gown still rucked up above her breasts, she pulled it off.
He saw how her neck and upper chest were mottled red, all the way down the tops of her tits. Her thick long nipples stuck out hard. The image of clips holding them with a chain between them came to his mind. Did women do that sort of thing to each other? Did anybody outside of the porn industry?
"I have to pee."
"I have to clean up." She answered as she started to get up, her hand cuppiing her pussy.
Once again something clicked in his brain. It always bothered him that she couldn't stand to have his cum in her. He always liked to see it oozing down when she got up. She thought it was gross. But then he had a second of thinking about it from her point of view, it probably felt icky. He pushed that thought away.
He grabbed her upper arm, his face so grim that she held her tongue and let him push half jogging to the bathroom, he pushed her down on her back in the tub, grabbing one leg he held it up and out with his left hand. He turned the water on. She screeched upright then flopped back when the cold water hit.
He adjusted the shower by roughly turning it a little warmer, but didn't fine tune it. Her roughly grabbed a washrag in one hand and soaped it up with the bar in the holder. Without uttering a word he scrubbed her, first her pussy then all of her front then pulled her to all fours and scrubbed her back. Finally soaping and scrubbing between her bottom cheeks, he lingered on her bottom.
He always thought that she had a beautiful bottom, he wasn't rough any more he carefully soaped and washed between her legs, almost lovingly, in marked contrast to how he scrubbed her earlier.
June didn't know how to feel. She didn't understand what or why, she loved the way he mounted and fucked her a minute ago, but washing her like she was a pet dog, and with the water so cold. It didn't start to heat up until he was nearly done. And spreading her legs open like that, so the water hit right on her pussy.
It came to her in a rush. The pussy she was going to clean of his cum, his essence. She thought it an odd quirk that after sex he didn't need to wash his cock, until the morning, even thought he usually had to pee. Just as he never washed his face after going down on her, or his fingers, until the next morning. She had even seen him surreptitiously lift his fingers to his nose and take a deep breath the day after sex with her.
He liked her smell. Once years ago he had remarked that she had 'marked him' and now, apparently, he had marked her. But then washed her. She decided that he was making a statement about how he felt about her rushing to clean herself almost the second he finished in her. It did feel a little icky, and even if he didn't mind the sounds coming from a full and squishy pussy, she was mortified by them.
He gently lifted her out of the tub and carefully patted her down with a fresh towel, he even bundled her hair up in another towel, just the way she did it. She realized that he had noticed a lot more about her than she thought.
When he had dried her off he plugged in her hair dryer and taking the towel off her head he gently worked the blow dryer and a brush until it was dry and brushed out. Then, still without a word he walked her to his side of the bed, the side without any wet spot she realized, and put her to bed, naked.
"Would you like me to go to the spare room?"
"No please, cuddle up to me."
They got into bed together, he spooned her from behind, his arm under her pillow, they quickly fell asleep. Both knowing that there was a lot to be worked out still, but they could do it another day.
End of chapter one, to be continued.
