Ellen Journals 02. Aphrodite's Fountain

In the 20+ years of happy marriage with my wife Ellen, only once had we done anything out-of-the-ordinary, sexually speaking. Looking back, I suppose we seem a conservative couple almost to the point of prudishness. Ellen doesn't really like to talk about sex. The one time we had deviated from the straight and narrow took place last year on the spur of the moment. I chronicled this experience in my account "The Five Sketches," changing only the names to protect my wife and our mutual friend whom we had not seen for 20 years, and will probably not see again. That single event was such a shock to us that we had still not discussed it. It was deeply, and mutually, fulfilling, but we had never openly considered following up on the experience or expanding in that direction. Consciously and deliberately going about to set such things in motion just is not part of our makeup.

Two weeks ago, Ellen and I accepted a dinner invitation from a couple we did not know very well, Will and Anne, as sort of tag-alongs with another couple who are quite good friends with both Will and Anne, and Ellen and I. The couple we went with was Jim and Susan. Once again, these are not real names, but the events are most real indeed, and I'm starting to wonder how often this sort of thing happens in American life! But I'm getting ahead of myself...

We all hit it off very well, had a fine meal and lots of good wine. We were all rather formal in our dress that night, and all the women looked lovely. My Ellen wore a red velvet top and a long black skirt and high heels. Our hostess, Anne, wore a long yellow silk dress with spaghetti straps. Her breasts were small enough so that they needed no support. She was lithe and charming, her hair as blond as her little gown. She was like a little fairy compared to my black-maned and voluptuous wife. Ellen and I had about 10 years on our host and hostess, but they were both cultured and civil people and we found them good company.

Jim was not feeling too well that night and he and Susan left right after desert, which Jim declined to sample and I think that the mere sight of us enjoying this rich dish brought Jim to the edge of endurance, digestively speaking. They were out the door in minutes. I remember it was barely 9:30.

Ellen and I like to dance, and so does Anne, but Will was your typical tough guy who would rather eat a carton of thumb tacks than be caught dead on a dance floor. But the music they were playing that night (Ella Fitzgerald and Sinatra ballads) inspired Ellen and I to a couple of slow dances while Anne watched enviously, playfully cajoling Will to join her in a spin. It must have been the wine, because by the time the second song ended and we decided to rejoin our hosts so as not to be rude, Anne had the resigned Will on his feet and heading our way. The four of us danced to another song. When it was over I asked Anne if she would like to dance. She accepted, and without even asking, and enjoying himself in spite of himself, Will simply took my Ellen in his arms and the four of us swayed languidly to Sinatra singing "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning." I dance a lot, but almost never with anyone but Ellen, and it was very exciting to feel Anne in my arms. She was compliant and a good dancer. Looking over, I noted Will was a little stilted but Ellen was enjoying her dance with him just the same.

The atmosphere changed subtly after the music stopped and we were sipping wine and chatting again. The ladies were glowing, and it was not just the wine. They looked good, they were appreciated, they knew it, they enjoyed the dancing, and everyone was most relaxed.

There were two small leather sofas in the room, one pulled in front of the other to facilitate conversation, with Anne cuddling up to Will on one, Ellen and I on the other. The conversations took many turns, if I recall correctly, starting from current films and winding its way to books to medicine to doctors to medical practitioners we know, to Anne's strange chiropractor. What follows is as best as I can recount it.

"He thinks that all psychological releases are accompanied by a discharge of some kind," Anne explained. "And the appearance of a discharge is one way he knows he's getting results."

Will grimaced. "Discharge? Like what?"

"Anything," Anne explained. "Tears, sweat, bleeding, that sort of thing. He says that fluids correspond to emotions and that if there is an emotional release then there has to be a fluid somehow associated with it."

We pondered this lightly. Ellen sipped at her wine and noted that women and men were psychologically very different and that there seemed to be more fluids associated with women's emotions than men's. "We cry easier, so more tears; we sometimes pee when we laugh too hard, we have periods..."

"God knows there are emotions aplenty associated with THAT," Will observed, to a playful elbow in the ribs by Anne.

"But seriously, though," Anne said, "that's true about women." She was thoughtful for a few seconds. "But sex is really emotional, especially for women, and we don't, well... you know..."

"What?" Will didn't get it. Anne looked at him with annoyance.

"You know," she repeated. Will didn't know.

"You know. Shoot out fluid." She said it, and then she blushed, all rosy in the lamplight.

I looked at Ellen, who was staring straight ahead looking like the cat who ate the canary. I knew what she was thinking. I started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Anne said, self-consciously. I headed that off fast.

"Oh no, it's not you. Or what you said. Generally, that's true that women don't, you know, shoot fluid." Everyone laughed at how stupid that sounded, "shoot fluid."

"Well, anyway," Anne said, resigned. "It's too bad we can't do that, ejaculate, like men, because it looks like fun." Ellen looked a side-glance at me, leaned forward to pick up her wine from the coffee table between our two sofas and raised her glass in a little toast to Anne.

"It is."

I should have seen it coming, after she let that one drop, but I didn't. I thought that would be the end of it but Anne wouldn't let that one go. And Will, starting to flag a bit from the wine, certainly perked up a notch or two.

"Ellen." Anne said carefully. "What do you mean, 'it is'?" Ellen looked at me, smiling, and after a few seconds I had to laugh. Shaking my head at a curious Anne and a confused Will I finally said, "Yes, it's true. Ellen ejaculates."

Will squirmed in his seat, tugged at his ear, and said, "Anyone want more wine?" We all did, and Will was off to the kitchen leaving a baffled Anne, mouth agape and eyes wide, trying to come to terms with Ellen's claim.

"Wow," she said, a little dazed. "I guess I heard of that before but I never knew anyone..."

"I think lots of women do, actually," Ellen said.

"I don't."

"You can, if you want."

So there I sat, while Ellen filled Anne in on the wonders of female ejaculation (politely sparing our new hostess the most graphic details), feeling a little uncomfortable and ignored for not the last time that evening, when back came Will with a bottle of red wine. He poured us all a half glass and sat down next to Anne.

"So," I said to Will, "I guess we're on our own."

Will rolled his eyes. "Jesus. I was listening in from the kitchen. Knowing Anne, they'll be gabbing about this all night." At that the ladies' talk abruptly ceased.

Scowling, Anne turned to Will. "You know, Will, this should be something that interests you, too."

"Really?", he said. "Why's that?"

"Because it would be enjoyable for you, too."

"How do you figure?"

Anne turned to me and asked, "Don't you agree? Don't you find it kind of exciting? I mean, women find it exciting when a man ejaculates. God! That's amazing to us, really."

"Well," I answered, looking firmly at my shoes, "yes, I suppose it is pretty exciting." I looked at Ellen, then nodded to the coffee table. "I really enjoy it."

"Listen: You know, Anne can be pretty gabby about sex, so if you guys mind that sort of thing I'm sure she can kind of throttle back on the sex talk," Will explained, a little embarrassed for his new guests.

"Will!" Anne objected, "I'm not being..."

"No, it's okay," Ellen said. I agreed.

Anne jumped right back on. "So tell me then, what is it that squirts out?" Will turned his head away and sighed. I laughed.

"Well, it's like the prostate fluid that a man has," Ellen said.

"Does it come out, you know, your vagina?"

"Nope. It comes out from your urethra."

"Your what?" Will asked.

"My pee-hole," Anne whispered back. "I mean, HER pee-hole." She turned back to Ellen. "But it's not pee?"

"It's not possible to pee when you're having an orgasm," Ellen clarified. "That gland that's like a man's prostate is wrapped around the urethra, and when it's stroked from inside the vagina, the G-spot area, then that area swells up a little, and at orgasm, fluid can come out."

"Just once?"

"No. If you have more than one orgasm you can ejaculate three or four times before the supply runs out."

"Does it always squirt?" Will asked, getting into the conversation.

"Well," Ellen said, "I do. But some women just sort of dribble a little. Especially at first."

"At first?" Anne asked.

"While they're learning."

Anne looked away, lost for a minute in her thoughts while the rest of us sat and sipped wine in silence. The atmosphere was becoming a little charged, and I started to wonder what was to become of all this. I had an odd feeling come over me like I did when Ellen shed her inhibitions, and everything else, a few months ago in the only sexual madness of our lives. My penis has swelled into an uncomfortable position and I squirmed a bit as discreetly as I could to relieve the constriction. Anne suddenly snapped out of her reverie.

"Will you teach me?"

Ellen never hesitated. "Absolutely."

Anne did a little cheerleader clap. "Yes!" she chirped. She leapt from the sofa, stood a moment and then became suddenly sober. "You know, I'm not a lesbian or anything. I mean maybe a couple times in college I may have..."

"Anne!" Will interrupted. "What the hell."

"What?" Anne asked desperately.

"Well..." Will sputtered, "what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I want to learn right now. And I don't know how to go about how to do this." She stood wringing her hands.

"Well maybe Ellen doesn't want to do this tonight with you right this minute." He pointed to me. "And what about John?"

Anne looked at Ellen and me with such a forlorn and confused look. I looked at Ellen and her face was flushed. She sighed.

"I feel like I did that one night," she whispered to me quietly and deliberately.

"I know you do," I whispered back. She was referring to the encounter last year. "And it's okay." I looked at Anne, then at Will. "It's okay with us however Anne would like to learn this. Ellen wants to teach her."

"But I need Will to help," Anne said, looking over at Will with a shy smile.

"Good idea!" I joked. "I'll just sit out here and read magazines for an hour or so." That little thing broke the ice and we all had a laugh.

"Honey," I said to Ellen, "how do you want to do this?"

She considered quietly. "Well... I think I need to demonstrate. And not just for Anne. Will needs to know what to do. And so John needs to help."

I'll never forget the moment that it all sank in to the four of us, because the reactions in the room were like bursts of energy, of all different kinds. Anne had her wide-eyed look and did a little gasp, and then held her breath for the longest time; Will was motionless on the sofa, just staring at Ellen with an aspect of cautious disbelief; Ellen's fair face was still charmingly flushed with roses and she wore a wan smile, and behind it only I could sense her anticipation, which was volcanic; My own excitement was extreme but I tried to present a calm demeanor. It's what I do best.

Anne started to breathe. "Okay then. What should I do?"

"You didn't even ask me if I'm alright with this." Will said to Anne, very seriously, too. The room darkened.

"Are you?"

Will looked down and smiled. He looked around the room at the three of us. "Yes. I am," he laughed, "but you could have asked." We all laughed.

That little levity helped ease things considerably. Anne asked Ellen where she wanted to do this, and if there were anything she needed.

"Right here is fine," she said as she patted the sofa. "But you better get three big towels."

"I got a plastic tarp in the garage," Will offered with a laugh, which Ellen and I joined while Anne shot him a how-can-you-be-so-crude look but she couldn't sustain it for more than two seconds before cracking up herself.

Anne returned with three big new white towels, still creased from the box. "This is a special enough occasion to unpack these." She held them up. "They're nice, see?" She smiled at Will. "Your mom gave these to us, but I don't think she'd ever suspect..."

Anne handed the towels to Ellen and she put them down on the sofa next to her. Everyone resumed their seats and waited for Ellen to do, well, whatever she was going to do. She was about to say something when Will leapt to his feet.

"I have an idea!" He went to the china cabinet in the dining room and we heard him rummaging about. "That living room light is too harsh and unbecoming." He entered the room now with an armload of candles and commenced to strategically setting them about the room. Then he lit them all and turned out all the lights. The effect was magical. He lugged the coffee table away from our area.

Will resumed his seat. "Well, should we all get more comfortable?"

"Will!" Anne said. "Just relax!" I was amused at how Will was starting to loosen up in this situation, one obviously as foreign to him and Anne as it was to us. Anne looked at Ellen. "So tell us what we should do." Anne was so charming in her anticipation.

"Well, I guess you should all should just watch at first." She looked at me. "Okay with you?"

"Sure, darlin', whatever you want," I said.

We sat and waited while Ellen puzzled over how to begin, or perhaps she was just building courage for what she knew she had to do. "Well, I don't really need the towel quite yet." She stood up.

"Do you want me to get up? Do you need to lie down?" I asked her.

She heaved a nervous sigh. "No. Just stay put. Just scoot over."

Looking very embarrassed, Ellen turned a bit to best face the three of us, looked down and unfastened the button on the front of her skirt, then unzipped the zipper on the side. She simply let the skirt drop, and stepped out of it with her heels still on. Will stirred in his seat and adjusted himself, looking nervous. Ellen stood before us in her necklace, bracelet and ring, red velour top with a white bra underneath, white cotton panties, long black hose that came just below her knees, and black heels. She gave us all a little smile.

"You look lovely, dear," I told her.

"Absolutely beautiful..." Will said dreamily. Anne smiled at Will.

She said nothing to the complements, simply hooking her thumbs on the sides of her panties and sliding them down her thighs, all white in the candlelight, until the panties dropped to the floor. There was a tiny damp spot in the middle of the crotch. Eveyone saw it. She stepped daintily out of them and tossed them and her skirt beside the sofa with her toe.

Anne gave a little gasp. "You shave! That's good for the lesson, isn't it? We can see everything."

And so we could. How erotic a beautiful woman looks in full formal dress, minus skirt and panties. She stood a moment looking at the floor in front of her, hair still up but unsecured wisps falling about her neck and face, bracelet dangling from her wrist, legs only slightly parted, lovely shaved pussy on view for all. She had taken to shaving her pussy completely after our little episode a few months ago. She resumed her seat and smiled shyly at us, her breath a little heavy. She took some wine and settled back. Then to everyone's anticipation and admiration she scooted her naked bottom to the edge of the leather sofa and opened her thighs. Her pussy was open slightly and glistening in the candlelight. I could smell her.

"I can smell you," I whispered.

Her breath came sharply. "Oh, God..."

All the fidgeting in the world would not relieve Will now as he reached into his trousers and arranged himself, unable to hide his erection. Ellen blessed him with a smile. Anne saw this and patted his swollen member through his pants with a little smile of her own. All attention returned to Ellen. She brought her left hand to her bare pussy and spread her lips, a completely gratuitous gesture designed to maximize the voyeur in us all. She stroked herself with her right hand, taking long languorous breaths, wetting her fingers generously with her juices and then rubbing her clitoris in little circles.

"I thought I would bring myself to climax," she took a deep breath, "but it's even nicer when John helps." Another deep breath. "It's just easier to see it all."

"I want to help, though," I heard myself saying. Ellen stopped her hand, spread her thighs even further and lifted both feet onto the edge of the sofa, opening her bald wet pussy in an almost obscene gesture. "Well, then tongue my pussy."

"Oh God..." Anne said, and drew a deep sigh. Will was mesmerized. I moved between Ellen's spread thighs, kneeled down and lapped slowly at her pussy, gradually increasing pressure and speed. Ellen rolled her head back and forth moaning softly. Her breathing became louder and faster and at length she took my head in her hands and pushed away.

"Stop!" she panted. "Not yet... I need to... to show them a few things first." I sat back on my knees and brushed her pale thighs with my fingers while she collected herself. Then I realized that I was blocking the view of our hosts and sat back on the floor with my head near Ellen's knee. I reached and spread Ellen's pussy lips, exposing her glistening wetness completely. She moaned, but I realized instantly that it was Ann who had moaned, sitting on the edge of her sofa absently squeezing her nipple through her dress. Will scooted forward and reached with his hand to gently caress Anne's other breast and they both looked on, helpless in the light of the candles and Ellen's passion.

"Put the towel on the floor, honey. Like we do at home," Ellen whispered and I did as instructed. Using another towel as a pillow, Ellen lay on the floor, absently stroking her pussy while she spoke. "Will, you need to put a couple fingers into Anne's pussy in a certain way."

"Right now?" Will asked.

"No, no... just watch me and John for now." I knelt next to her on the floor and she spread her knees wide. "See, you should encounter an area about two inches in, which should be somewhat enlarged. This is the G-spot. It lies directly along the urethra, and is located almost directly behind the clitoris. Slowly stroke this area with two fingers. It should start becoming more enlarged. You can feel it." I did as instructed, and with my free hand stroked her clitoris. "Ejaculation is almost always triggered by stimulating the G-spot. Clitoral stimulation can often... ah... ohhhhh... help you reach an ejaculation, and also can make it more intense. But stimulating the G-spot... oh God... is usually necessary at least initially. Once you starts ejaculating easily, you may find that clitoral stimulation is sufficient by itself... Oh God... GOD!... STOP!..." I withdrew slowly.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," she panted. "I need to show them the other way... whew!... Will and Anne, come down on the floor and watch me." As she said this she turned over and got up on her hands and knees, then put her head and shoulders down to the carpet, leaving her pale and lovely bottom in the air for us to admire. All of us did, even Anne, who was plainly overwhelmed by the ripe and robust sexuality of my wife. Ellen spread her knees. The fascinated pair settled in for a good close look, noting, I'm sure, that it is only her pubic hair that Ellen shaves, leaving what's below to nature's bounty.