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Click hereSherry put a mug of coffee on the table in front of me and took her own and leaned against the kitchen counter.
"You were asleep last night when I got in," she said.
"Yeah. I must be getting old. Just can't party like I used to. You have a good time?"
Sherry blew across the top of her mug, raising a cloud of steam. Her eyes were on the coffee as she replied. "It's too bad we didn't get to know them better. Lawrence. And Amanda. And now they're leaving."
Still looking down at her coffee, she continued. "Lawrence is a really sweet guy. And fun. I'm not so sure what he sees in Amanda, though. I mean she's nice, and good-looking, I suppose, in that sort of mousy, plain-Jane way." Sherry turned and looked out the window. "I guess I'm just surprised he settled for that."
I let my eyes run over my wife's body. Long tan legs, muscled but smooth. A firm, round ass, just peeking out from under a T-shirt of mine she'd pulled on. All her running and exercise had certainly paid off. In the little gap between her thighs I could just make out a wisp of pale blue thong panties. I knew that when she turned back to me the T-shirt would cascade down from her breasts like a waterfall, not touching her anywhere below those magnificent mounds.
She faced me again. Just like I'd pictured. Except that her nipples had hardened and were holding the thin cotton even further away from her body than I'd imagined. I lengthened under my boxers and started to get out of my chair, but Sherry was talking again.
"I mean, he's, well he could have all sorts of women. Good-looking, a job that takes him all over the world."
I settled back. "Maybe she's wild and kinky. You never know."
Sherry finally looked me in the eye. "You think?" She shook her head. "Nope. I don't see it."
"There's a lot that goes on behind closed doors. Amanda could be the Marquess de Sade. She could have him cuffed to the bed right now, brandishing her whip."
Sherry rolled her eyes. "God. Men and their fantasies. Lawrence as much as told me they have no sex life. Yeah, they have two kids, but I get the idea that she's, maybe not frigid, exactly. Asexual."
Sherry's not naieve. Men have been hitting on her ever since she sprouted those globes on her chest. And one thing she knows, one thing we both surely know, is that when a man confides in a woman that he's not getting it at home, whether it's true or lies, he's looking to get it somewhere else.
"Don't tell me you bought that line."
Sherry was back to looking at her coffee. "I didn't buy anything. How did we even get here? All I said was I thought Lawrence could do better than Amanda." She glanced up at the clock. "Oh, shit. Look at the time. I'm going to be late for work."
She dashed up the stairs, and a minute later I heard the shower running. Almost before I could get a second cup of coffee, Sherry was kissing me on the cheek and flying out the door. How she could get herself ready in that time was a constant mystery to me. All that remained of her was a trace of perfume in the air.
I poured my coffee and sat at the kitchen table. I had a lot to think about. First there was Amanda, and what we'd done yesterday and what she'd promised for today. Looking back, yesterday was one of the strangest experiences of my life, though at the time it had seemed, well, if not entirely normal, somehow inevitable. At any rate, with the story Amanda had told me, the result had been inevitable.
Then there was Sherry. Or rather Sherry and Lawrence. Something was going on there. I knew my wife, and I knew she didn't just wake up in the morning worrying about our neighbors' marriage. No, there was more to it. Of course I could see how Lawrence would be attracted to Sherry. Men buzzed around her like moths around a light. And I guess I could see it from her point of view. Young guy, handsome, a little flirting over wine at a party. Everybody needs some excitement in their life.
A lot to think about. I rinsed our coffee cups and put them in the dish-washer and went upstairs to shower. By the time I was under the hot spray, I was only thinking about one thing. Amanda. I didn't know what she had planned for today, but just wondering about it sent my blood rushing south. I soaped up and my hands lingered over my cock. Little electric sparks were shooting through it, and I wanted to stroke it and fondle it and release the sexual tension that was building in me. I made myself stop, and I rinsed off and got out and shaved. The whole time, my mind was on Amanda, and my cock stayed hard, pointing almost straight up, ticking in time with my pulse. I followed it down the hall to our bedroom to get dressed.
Just outside the door, I stopped. Whatever Amanda had in mind for today, my clothes would be unnecessary. That thought made my cock jump, and I felt the magic tingle of fluid leaking out of its head. I turned and went down the hall to my office.
I sat at my desk and fired up my computer. Automatically, my fingers raced over the keyboard and pulled up my favorite porn site. The girls were as luscious as always, their poses as sexy as ever, but I wasn't really concentrating on them. I was sitting where Amanda had watched me, and all my consciousness drifted to my loins, where my cock was standing tall and proud, nearly bursting out of its skin. My hands trembled and reached for it, but I locked them onto the arms of my chair. Instead of touching myself, I looked down, down to where six inches of bobbing turgid flesh were draining the blood from my brain and giving it back in gobs of shiny clear liquid. Amanda, mousy plain-Jane Amanda, not exactly frigid, asexual Amanda, had a lot to answer for.
Thinking of her made me swivel in my chair to look at the window of the room she'd brought me to yesterday. Amanda was there, naked, in the armchair, in the pose she'd described to me. Her legs were spread over the arms of the chair. Her head was tilted back, but I could see her dark eyes under her drooping lashes, and her hands were languidly stroking her breasts and stomach. She smiled at me, and my hands flew to my cock. She raised her right hand in a traffic-cop gesture and reached to the floor with her left. The sway and droop of her small breasts as she leaned, and the folds of her skin as her torso twisted, were heart-stoppingly beautiful.
She sat up, looking over at me, apparently making sure my hands were back on the chair arms, then nodded and flicked open a little silver cell phone. She thumbed a button and the phone on my desk rang. I swung around and reached for it with a quivering hand.
"Amanda?"
"You know it's me. Turn back around so I can see you. There. That's perfect. You know, Henry, this is the first time I've seen you. Really seen you. You're quite impressive. Do you work out?"
My fingers were clenched around the phone, and I could feel a slippery sheen of sweat between my palm and the plastic. "Yeah. Some. I have a gym in the basement."
"Mmm. I thought so. Nice. And of course we both know you exercise that other muscle regularly. Have you been working on it today? It certainly looks pumped up."
"No. Not today. I've been waiting for you."
"Why, Henry. That's so sweet. But it didn't get that way all by itself. Maybe those pictures on your computer helped a little."
Oh, shit. Amanda could see my screen. "No. Really. I just..."
"It's all right, Henry. This isn't the first time I've watched you, remember? I know what you do over there."
"Yeah. OK. But today, I didn't, I don't know, I just sort of did it out of habit. But I was already like this. Before. I was in the shower, thinking about you, and you know..."
"Hmmm. I'm not sure I can believe that. I mean, look at yourself. You're so hard. So worked up. You didn't get like that just thinking about me."
"But I did. Really."
"Really?"
"Really.'
"Oh, my goodness. You don't know how wet that just made me, Henry."
I almost fainted. "Wet? How wet?"
"Soaking. Dripping. I can smell it. Oh, god. Henry, I've got to put the phone down now."
"Oh, jesus, no, Amanda. Don't hang up. Don't go."
"Shhh. I'm not going anywhere. I just need two hands for this."
Amanda set her cell phone on the arm of her chair. With her left hand she spread her pussy lips wide, and her right index finger speared her soft center. She slid it in and out and then pushed her middle finger in beside it. Her head lolled back against the chair and her left hand flashed over her clit. Then she was sitting up and picking up the phone.
"That was close, Henry. I almost came." My brain flashed to black for an instant. "But that's not what I wanted to do. Not yet. I want to smell it, to taste it." She waved her glistening fingers under her nose, and I could see her chest expand with her inhalation. "Oh, god, that's delicious. Do you think you'd like it, Henry? To sniff me? Lick me?" She ran her tongue over her fingers. "Oh. Oh. Hang on a second. Wait. Just wait. Aah, that's better. Can you believe that? I was right there again. And this time I wasn't even touching myself."
The connection went silent again as Amanda put down the phone and suckled her fingers. Then she was back on. "Henry, my fingers are almost as wet as my pussy, and I'm going to stick them back in me. I'm going to make myself come. Do it."
"Do it?"
She was watching me through the windows, and her fingers slipped into her. Her voice was a hoarse whisper. "You know what I'm talking about. Do it now."
I lifted my hand and wrapped my fingers around my swollen shaft. Oh, fuck. I'd been jerking myself off for something like thirty years, but I'd never felt that first touch drive me so close to the edge. I got my breathing under control enough to croak into the phone. "Like this?"
"Just like that. Whoa. Calm down. I want you to feel exactly what I'm feeling. That's it. Long and slow. Oh god. Oh yeah. Ooooh. Almost there. Are you with me, Henry?"
I watched Amanda watching me. Her hand was jerking between her legs, and I couldn't hold my smooth tempo any longer.
"I'm with you. Oh, sweet jesus. I'm going to, I'm, uh-oh."
"Let it go, Henry. Let it go. I want to see it. Do it. Do it now. Do it now. Let me watch. Before it's too late. Before I, oh, damn. I'm ..."
My eyes were screwing shut, but I forced them open to watch Amanda. She was sitting up rigid in her chair, staring at me, and I could make out red blotches on her neck and chest. Then my vision blurred, and I was trying to focus on her through a veil of darkness.
When I opened my eyes, I was still clutching the phone. My chest was heaving, my legs were shaking, and my hand was cramped around my prick. A sea of cum warmed my chest and stomach. Soft breathing, almost sighing, caressed my ear. I closed my eyes and counted heart-beats, waiting until I could hear the space between them.
"Amanda?"
"Henry."
"That was..., oh, jesus. What was that?"
"That was fun, Henry. Thank you."
"Thank you."
A giggle. "We're being so polite."
I laughed. "Yeah. What I wanted to say was that was amazing. And yesterday..."
"Oh, Henry. Yesterday. I couldn't believe you just got off in your pants like that. I'm sorry if it embarrassed you, but it made me feel so, I don't know. Sexy. Desirable. Irresistible. After you left, I had to do my hostess thing, and I was sure everyone could hear me squishing as I made the rounds. I was so wet. And after everyone was gone, after Lawrence had stopped glomming all over Sherry and had passed out in bed, well, I, I. It wasn't easy to not to. You know."
"Amanda, I can't believe you're going all shy and girlish on me. Say it."
"All right, Henry. It wasn't easy not to think of you coming in your shorts, all because of me, and not to rub myself into oblivion."
"See how easy it is? So why didn't you?"
"Maybe I was saving myself for you. Like you did this morning."
"Amanda. This conversation is beginning to, just look out the window."
Another giggle, deep and throaty. "I didn't think guys your age could do that."
"Most guys my age don't have a view like this, or unpaid access to this sort of telephone conversation."
"I'm starting to get giddy with my power over you, Henry. Be careful."
"That's the last thing I want to be. Listen, how long before you leave?"
"Three weeks."
Relief burst out of my lungs. "Three weeks. So maybe we could, you know."
"I'm sure we could, Henry. Right now, I've got to pick up the kids. Call me tomorrow. Or should I call you?"
"Why don't you call me."