Coming To Her Senses

Sara called Mike at work inviting him home for lunch. Things had been knotty between them for a while. Twenty years of marriage can do that.

She rushed around heating up his lunch, went upstairs and slipped on a purple spaghetti-strapped satin nightgown and quickly brushed her long hair. Perfume and lipstick were all she had time for, but it was toilette enough for a make-up quickie.

The roar of his Suzuki motorcycle alerted her to his arrival as she stretched out on the bed, posing as sexily as she knew after twenty years of almost no surprises left for either side.

The new Hitachi magic wand was on her night table. She only had a few seconds to pour some Astrolube on her sex and warm up her tissues with the wand before he was climbing the stairs.

"You alone?" Mike called out, a weird question as he entered their bedroom.

"Why, who else would be here?" Their son had started college this fall and the house was big, empty and too quiet.

"Well," he said as he stripped off his shirt and threw his baseball cap on a chair. "I know you have at least two men on your mind any time of the day. Just wondered if there was room for me in that big bed."

Sara was surprised at his words but tried to not to show it. She had been circumspect about two men she had met. Nothing had happened, no phone sex, nothing but a mostly-innocent dalliance. They were as different as night from day, one dark and brooding, the other open and sweet. They were just -- men. She had been married so long she had forgotten the fun of a dalliance, of a flirtation. They were some thoughts brightening her day, and sometimes, invading her dreams at night.

Mike hated that wand lying on her side of the bed. He thought it insulting to his own ability to arouse her. Flopping at the bottom of the bed, he grabbed her white legs and pulled them apart, using one hand on her clit and one hand in her cunt, attempting to arouse her. She moaned but it wasn't convincing. He grabbed the Hitachi from the night stand and applied it directly to her clit. She screamed, and not in delight.

"Stop it," she said sharply. He chased her over the bed as she tried to duck and dodge him and the wand, a sadistic look on his face. He did stop, panting and laughing with his exertions, but by then the mood was broken. The Hitachi was tossed on the floor where it rolled into the corner, making a loud thump on the wall.

He pushed off the bed and stood before her, unzipping his jeans. "Make me hard, baby, that little tussle did nothing for John Thomas".

She wrapped her lips around the only cock she had known and sucked. Usually he would give warning, but this time he came in her mouth. She spit fast, but not fast enough.

"Now swallow it, what you have left in your mouth."

She was surprised. He didn't command her in such ways, not her usually gentle and sweet husband.

"You know", he said as he tucked in his cock and zipped up his pants, "The Japs lost the war but now they win at everything. The TV in the den, the gadgets you can't live without in the kitchen, the damn sheets on the beds, but I'll be damned if they think they can replace my cock."

Mike pulled her up and lifted her gown over her head, throwing it on the floor. It was a ritual with them for her to stand in his arms like the wooden figurehead on the bow of a ship, breasts sticking out for him to suckle, back arched and arms thrown around his neck. He would lift her tight in strong arms to his body, swing her around to the bed and throw her, she tumbling and giggling.

"You know I love you, baby. We are just hitting a rough patch." He slapped her on the ass. "Don't give it away now, ok?"

Pulling his cap on his head and winking, he walked out of the bedroom. She heard the roar of his Suzuki thunder out of the driveway.

She sighed. Suddenly dark and brooding and sweet and open were very far away, just pipe dreams, nothing substantial, and certainly nothing between her legs.

She got up and pulled her antique kimono around her, suddenly cold. She saw the Hitachi in the corner and winked at it.

She was coming to her senses.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2008