Jean's Special Day Ch. 02

David quickly dressed in the guest bedroom in the outfit he had planned especially for this morning's activity. He had shopped carefully and the tailor had taken great pains to make sure that the fit was exact. As he shrugged into the expensive tuxedo, he watched his reflection in the mirror on the bureau. He was a little concerned about the extra thickness in his belly and vowed to hit the training schedule a little harder. Jean was as beautiful today as the day he had first met her. He wanted her to always be proud to be walking at his side.

He quickly finished his dressing and surveyed the results. Anyone who did not know that he was dressing in his own home and for just this morning's activity, would think that he was a waiter in a very posh establishment and was decking out for his responsibility to be waiting hand and foot on famous celebrities who were accustomed to having their service personnel dressed to the nines. David hoped that Jean would feel extra special because of the pains he had taken to attire himself in this get-up. It was not the most comfortable suit of clothing, but it did look first class and he was willing to suffer any number of discomforts for his lovely wife.

He rushed into the bathroom to make sure things there were ready for Jean to enjoy her morning bath. The bath water was steamy hot and the bubbles of the bath oil floated in their open invitation to be enjoyed as he turned off the water tap and then started the whirlpool motor. Lighting the strategically placed candles (there were ten of them), he surveyed the affect.

A large bouquet of red rose buds, laced with baby's breath and fern fronds adorned the bathroom marble. A poem, of his own creation, was rolled and tied ... seemingly nestled in the bosom of the small bottles of fragrance that were available for his wife to use if she so chose. Soft music played, piped in through the speakers in the ceiling. (Jean had always said she loved hearing the music while enjoying her bath; she just never remembered to turn it on before she climbed into the tub and by then it wasn't worth the bother. But today, the music was playing and the CD player was loaded with her favorite selections). Satisfied that things were as he had planned, he slipped quietly into their bedroom and paused for a few minutes to enjoy the contentment he always felt when seeing his wife in her slumber.

She slept on her left side, usually. Her hair, even after eight hours of sleep, seemed to be barely out of order. A few strands strayed around her temples and spilled onto her cheek, accentuating the fine features of her face. It was a face full of character. Even in sleep there was a purposeful demeanor about her features.

Her eyes, closed now in repose, still seemed to laugh. He could hardly remember the few times he had not seen laughter in her eyes. Even when times were tough or she was angry, the laughter only retreated a little. It never left entirely.

Her mouth twitched a little smile over some aspect of a dream no one would ever know. He remembered so many times when they had been first married when he had laid beside her while she slept soundly on his shoulder. Little smiles had played on her lips then, too, and he had tried to find out, when she awakened, what dreams had painted those cute little smile-twitches on her pretty mouth. Jean had always acted embarrassed that she had been so closely examined while she was sleeping. She loudly denied having any dreams, but he knew what he had seen and took every opportunity to see it again and again.

And this morning was no exception.

Her mouth and its smiles announced that she was in a world of her own. And the smiles that played on her subconscious lips were the only indication to her husband that this world, the one place he was never permitted to share, was a very happy place.

Kneeling bedside their king-sized bed, David lightly stroked the back of his hand on her face. She barely stirred at his touch but her smile-twitches became more pronounced and her body seemed to instinctively move toward the familiar caress. Gently, he moved his left hand under her neck, cradling her upper body close into his bosom. His right hand slid into the warmth of the quilt that covered her sleeping form and he enjoyed the softness of her body beneath his touch.

His hand cupped the fullness of her left breast and Jean breathed a sultry moan, more a subconscious reaction than a sensuous utterance. He felt his cock swelling within the confines of his tuxedo and knew he had to stop his play or they would never get to the activities he had planned for his wife's special day. He moved his hand, flat on her tummy, slowly downward.

His fingers needed no light to find their way. It did not matter that the quilt covered her body and shrouded it from his eyes. With deft assurance, his hand traced her delightful form. With no wavering or detour, he placed his palm over her pubic mound. The thin panty material was not designed to afford modesty or warmth and as he laid his hand over her vagina, she arched her body to meet his touch. There was no doubt that she was still asleep. There was also no doubt that even in her sleeping, she was a very erotic and sensuous Lady.

David steeled himself against the desires that were surging up within him. His body yearned to rip off his expensive attire and climb into the bed to ravage his darling wife with his lust and his love. He reminded himself of his agenda for the day and resisted the temptation.

Instead, he slipped his right arm under her legs, pulled her into his embrace ... and then cradled her into his arms. He picked her up, holding her closely to his body, and as he kissed her sleepy little smiling mouth, he carefully moved to the waiting whirlpool bath.

Jean's arms clasped securely around his neck as the loving couple moved to the master bath. It had been years since David had done anything like this, but Jean was still too much asleep to fully realize what was happening.

As they stepped into the soft, warm glow of the flickering candlelight, she stirred in her husband's arms and yawned. David hugged her close and kissed her forehead before placing her bum on the vanity counter. Her nightie rode up her lovely thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist and hugged him closer.

"Good morning, Honey," she murmured through a second yawn. "Are you getting hungry? Is that why I get carried to the bathroom at this ungodly hour? What time is it, anyway?"

David kissed Jean with the tenderness that spilled out of the overflow of his heart. "It's 7:30, Honey, and today is your day."

Jean suddenly became aware of her husband's attire and the atmosphere of their surroundings. "What the ..." she exclaimed, leaving her sentence suspended, hanging incomplete in the steamy fragrance of bath oils as David again kissed her lips.

David held her to him as he began to slowly massage her lower back.

"Darling, today is your day. I am at your beck and call. Part of the day has been planned for your pleasure and comfort. There is plenty of time and opportunity for you to design your own activity. There is only one requirement: You must enjoy yourself and the day must be totally for you."

Jean put her arms around David's neck and pulled him tight into her embrace. "Did you say 'anything', you wonderful man? 'Anything'?"

She kissed his open mouth with the sensuous intensity that had started his plan for this special day in the first place. Her tongue snaked into his mouth with wild furor. Her hands held his face and her legs wrapped around his hips in a wrestler's leg lock. She momentarily lifted her lips from his and growled her passion into his hearing.

"Anything, my horny husband? Then how about fucking your hot little wife right here and now? Pure fucking! Raw sex! All cock and cunt ... no foreplay! Here in the bathroom before my bath! Fuck me, Honey! Now!"

David's resolve to maintain complete control of his personal needs and wants suddenly disappeared. It was as if someone had discarded his determination into the open maw of the toilet commode and then quickly pressed the flush lever. He could not resist his wife's sultry demand and in seconds his cumber bun was flying onto the clothes hamper, his jacket was lying like a limp rag doll across the toilet tank, and his shirt, pulled from his trouser waistband and then, still buttoned, stripped over his head in his haste to be naked beside her, was flung unceremoniously across the room. In less than a third of the time it took him to don the expensive apparel, he had stripped it from his lust-crazed body. And then, surprising Jean and even himself, he ripped the material of her negligee and flung it into the corner of the bathroom floor.

His love and lust had been building in his loins from the moment he had awakened and now, like a volcanic eruption, it spewed out of his inner sanctum with the furor of an avalanche. Pushing Jean back onto the smooth tile of the expensive vanity, he pulled her legs to drape over his shoulders. His strong arms pulled her butt to the edge of the counter top and his erect cock needed no guidance as he aligned himself with her wet and inviting pussy. With a powerful thrust he buried himself fully into her vagina. His arms clasped around her thighs, holding her hard against the power of his onslaught. Jean's eyes glazed and rolled in their sockets as she whined her lust and pulled into her husband with her heels kicking into his straining back. With no pause at all, he pulled back as she protested his withdrawal. The purple swelling of his engorged penis nearly escaped the clinging caress of her vaginal lips, but years of practice had honed his expertise and as he reached the zenith of his stroke, he immediately powered his way, again, deep within her.

Jean, at first, propped herself on her elbows, so that she could see her husband's face as he joined himself to her and in her. She loved the look of lust and need that made his features change from the loving husband she adored into the craving animal that responded to his primal instincts and drove his cock powerfully to the entrance of her womb. With his second plunge she allowed herself to submerge completely in the feeling of being taken. By his fourth piston-like stroke, she lost all sense of time and space. And with each succeeding plunge against the mouth of her cervix, she lost more of her awareness of anything but the mutual pleasure they shared, as their loving became lust and their intercourse turned to wild fucking. Jean had gotten her wish; David was fucking her, "cock to cunt" as she had put it. And she loved it!

At first, as their bodies merged into the realms of mutual need, she allowed herself to enjoy the pleasure of being wanted and taken. But, sexual intercourse is a participative engagement. The body was created to respond, either with intense revulsion at being violated (and there was no violation between these two lovers!) or with intense pleasure as two people express their needs and desires.

As David increased the intensity of his thrusting into the depths of her pussy, Jean's desire and need matched, and then surpassed the escalation of his fucking. Her breathing became shallow and ragged. Moans of desire rattled in her throat. Her hips could not keep from responding and with each downward slam of her husband's cock into her she reciprocated by an equally powerful lunge upward. Her inner muscles milked him while her legs urged him to fuck deeper, harder, and faster.

As their bodies increased the exertion of their energy, their emotions soared, then coasted, and soared again. The mental rush that they had so often enjoyed during the course of their twenty years of married love now seemed to have tapped a new vein of expression. Lying on the vanity and looking up into the smoldering and crazed visage of her husband, Jean succumbed to total abandon of everything that society would consider acceptable behavior.

"Fuck me, you son-of-a-bitch," she growled through clenched teeth. "Damn you, you started this fire burning, and by god you had better put this fucking fire out. Fuck this cunt, you bastard! Fuck this cunt harder, faster!"

Her obscenities seemed to roll off her lips with the familiarity of someone who spoke in this manner on a daily basis. Had a total stranger witnessed her utterance, he would have concluded her to be a vulgar and profane slut as the gutter language spewed from her tongue. Conversely, anyone who knew this lady well would have been totally shocked at her choice of words, for she was always the perfect Lady in every way.

David felt neither dismay nor surprise as he heard the demands of his wife. The special language of love between them only heightened his own excitement and urged him to intensify his bodily expression of his mental and emotional excitement.

"Take it, my hot little wife. Milk my cock with you hot fucking cunt! I wasn't going to fuck you until this afternoon, but, by damn, if you want raw fucking, you're going to get FUCKED!! Open your cunt, Baby! Swallow this cock deep, 'cause you are going to get my load right where you want it ... DEEP!"

Time stood still. The peak of their mutual desire seemed to dance elusively just beyond their reach. Just as he felt he would explode with the inner percussion of muscular contraction, his body seemed to shy away from the precipice and his orgasm retreated momentarily. Jean's climb up the mountain of fulfillment, perhaps because there had been no foreplay or perhaps because she willed it to be held at bay, seemed to be taking a circuitous route. Neither seemed willing to be the first to break through the barrier of their fulfillment. For moments, (although it seemed like hours) their orgasms played this game of elusion and then simultaneously they crested the precipice and launched into the throes of their emotional pyromania. The sparks that had been lying almost dormant had been fanned into a roaring blaze of heat and passion and now exploded from their innermost being. Their muscles cramped with pleasurable pain. Their breathing hung suspended and the beat of their hearts seemed to terminate and then fibrillate as their simultaneous orgasms burst the barrier that had held them at bay.

Wave after wave crested and spilled over. For several minutes it seemed that there would be no end to the tide of emotion that racked their bodies.

Aftershocks succeeded the initial explosion of their fulfillment and then David collapsed onto the shuddering form of his lovely Jean. The murmur of her contentment had replaced the furor of her lust. For a few moments the hardness of the vanity and the cramped position of their bodies upon it was totally obscured by the feathered down of their satisfaction and peaceful euphoria. Jean's special day had gotten off to a wonderful start!