Life Imitates ArtbyDual_Triode©
A True Story.
I doubt that Oscar Wilde had erotic literature in mind when he penned his famous aphorism. On the other hand, his self-described Socratic sexual identity certainly placed him at the fringe of Victorian morality. It is not so difficult to imagine carnal desires fueling his biting wit.
This is not a story about Victorian era sexuality. This is a true tale of something that happened to me just 2 weeks ago. At my age, episodes of raw unbridled sex are just as likely to put me in the hospital as they are to buoy my spirit. Fortunately, the latter outcome prevailed, resulting in this little campfire story.
~ The Art ~
It finally happened to me earlier this year: unemployment. It was not unexpected, given this precarious economy, but it was a shock. It wasn't so much the financial hardship as the sheer boredom that got me down. At fifty-something, with an advanced engineering degree, I was stuck somewhere between retirement and a career change.
Mrs. Triode and I have been readers of Literotica for a few years. Mrs. Triode needs a name, let's call her Rena. That's not her real name, of course, but then nobody names their kid Dual, either. Neither Rena nor I are writers, but the desire to try our hand at it has lain dormant for a long time. Now, with an abundance of time on my hands, Rena made the obvious suggestion.
"Why don't you write a short story?" Rena suggested one Wednesday night, after our regularly scheduled lovemaking.
"A short story? About what?" I wasn't expecting serious pillow talk at this point.
"About sex, silly. Why don't you write about your adventures in college? The ones you're always bragging about?" A hint of sarcasm laced her voice.
"Bragging? I don't brag about those times. You're the one who brings them up," I was trying not to be defensive. "Rena, that was 30 years ago."
"But I like the story about the sailing disaster and how you still ended up in bed with her," Rena cuddled in with me. "I'd like to read that story and the others."
"Do you think I could really do it? Write a short story?" I was starting to seriously consider the idea.
"I'll help you with the editing. I'm pretty good with prose," she said, pulling my hand up to her tit and holding me tight. "She slowly slid her warm wet tongue up his throbbing, aching, rock-hard shaft, swirling over and around his bulbous, purple cock head, hungrily swallowing his massive member, recklessly forcing her tonsils aside."
"Oh, good Lord!" I snorted. "That's awful! I didn't know you were talking about writing for [adult swim]." Rena pulled my hand off her tit and up to her mouth. She started sucking on my fingers and I started a secondary expansion into her backside. It was going to be a late night.
The next evening, I started writing a story. I wrote about that sailing adventure. I wrote about boinking that girl. Actually, I wrote about a lot of stuff. It seemed to just pour out of me, like the flood gates had been opened. And just like a flood's aftermath, there was garbage strewn everywhere. It took me a month to sort out all of the ideas and put together some kind of coherent plot. When the dust settled, my short story was now a novel, and it wasn't very good.
I gave Rena a copy of that first draft. Over the next few nights, she read it without giving any reaction. It was driving me crazy. Finally, she handed it back to me.
"Well," Rena said. "Do you love me?"
"That bad, eh?" I was feeling dejected.
"Not so bad, really. But it's too long and unfocused. There really needs to be some kind of subplot, something to create tension. And you haven't written any antagonistic elements into the story." Rena was being critical, but in a positive way.
"And who the hell is Erica?" Rena asked. "You never mentioned her before. Did you really watch her have sex?"
"Erica is not a real person. She represents that time I accidentally caught my roommate's girlfriend masturbating. I told you about that." I was reacting to her implication that I was a Peeping Tom.
"Accident my ass! You told me it turned you on, and that you secretly watched her for a while," Rena embraced her prosecuting attorney persona.
"Ok, I admit that I'm a bit perverted and voyeuristic, but so are you. Remember that time you watched your neighbor, when you were a teenager? You told me that you could see his cock fall out of his cut-offs." Living with Rena has sharpened my defensive debate skills.
"Yeah, I peeked. But I would never actually watch other people having sex," Rena proclaimed.
"I wouldn't be so sure," I admonished her inflated virtues. "Never is an awfully long time."
~ Real Life ~
Rena had gone on a hiking trip with a few girlfriends. Each summer, they took a trip to the North shore of Lake Superior to hike, shop, and complain about their men. It's a natural and important thing to do. I stayed home with our sick dog. It was late Saturday afternoon when Rena called.
"Hey Hun, I'm stuck in road construction traffic. Looks like I'm going to be a little late," Rena explained. "Go ahead and eat dinner without me. Remember to take your vitamin."
Vitamin was our code word for vitamin-V: Viagra. As a prostate cancer survivor, I probably had a lifetime supply of those little blue pills. They were necessary after surgery and part of the standard physical therapy regime. Now, they were more of a convenience. I was pretty sure that I could perform without chemical assistance, it had been almost 2 weeks since we'd had sex. I decided to take half a pill.
Rena arrived home around 8:00, dog-tired from hiking and driving in traffic. I poured her a glass of Merlot and we went out onto the deck to relax.
"How was your getaway?" I asked.
"It was beautiful. The scenery is spectacular, and the weather was perfect," Rena clearly enjoyed herself.
She told me about shopping in Grand Marais and the fine food they ate. I was really glad she got to relax a little. It had been a stressful week leading up to her trip. The dog had gotten sick, really sick. It turned out to be a gallbladder attack. We had to decide between surgery and putting him down. That's a tough choice when you're unemployed. We still have the dog.
Our quiet conversation was disrupted by the painful strains of bad singing.
"What the hell is that?" Rena asked.
"That's Mike and Carol. They have a new karaoke program on their laptop," I explained. Mike and Carol were our next-door neighbors. "Keep your voice down, they'll hear you."
"I doubt it," Rena scoffed.
She was right. Mike and Carol were singing really loud. They were off-key, and they were drinking. It was wretched.
"I'm going to take a bath. Will you come find me later?" Rena rubbed my leg with her bare foot, moving higher, searching for signs of life. She found what she was looking for.
Rena drew a hot bath and lit an aroma therapy candle in the dark bathroom. She added some foaming bath oil to the tub and settled in for a relaxing soak. Just above the steaming tub, a nice breeze wafted through the open window. Unfortunately, so did the bad karaoke. She turned on the radio to drown it out.
After a while, the neighbors finished their tortured arias and Rena was finally able to relax. As her radio played, she drifted off into a light sleep. She woke up when she heard some small fireworks, probably from the kids on the other side of the house. That was not unusual for a Saturday night.
Suddenly, a big explosion rocked the window and a bright flash filled the dimly lit bathroom. Rena jolted upright and cursed.
"Damn those kids and their M-80s. It's too late for this crap," Rena bitched at no one in particular. As the echoes of the explosion faded, she heard some whooping and hollering from the perpetrators. She also heard a female voice loudly crying out.
"Now they've done it," Rena was pissed. "Somebody's hurt."
Rena rose to her feet and peered out the bathroom window. There was no sign of the troublemakers in the deep twilight, but she could still hear the female's voice. She looked over towards the neighbor's house and discovered the reason why.
The voice was coming from Mike and Carol's bedroom. They had left their window open, the shades up, and a light on. They had shed their clothing and were having sex. Alcohol tends to have this effect on people. The entire scene was plainly visible from our bathroom window.
Carol was on top of Mike, her head buried in his chest, humping up and down on his rigid cock. He had his hands on her ass, guiding her frenzied ride. Carol was crying out just as loudly as she sang.
"Oh Christ, Mike. Fuck me! Fuck me harder! Fuck me you bastard!" Carol eloquently cursed into his chest. Mike was less vocal, his grunts were barely audible.
Rena sat back down in the tub and covered her open mouth with her hand. She could not quite believe what she was seeing. They were actually putting on a show for the entire neighborhood. She listened to Carol's vulgar lyrics and considered coming to find me. Slowly, Rena began to realize that while the whole neighborhood could probably hear them, she might be the only one who could see them. Her vantage point was unique.
"Oh, my God," Rena whispered. The seed had been planted.
Rising back up, Rena peeked over the window sill into their bedroom. Carol was still riding Mike, but had now moved to a sitting position, with her hands on his chest. Her humping had morphed into a fast grinding motion and her tits jiggled around in time with her gyrating ass. Mike's hands were still on her hips and he pushed himself up inside her, holding the pose. Carol's head was thrown back and her mouth was open. No words escaped from her mouth, a wailing cry was the only sound she could make.
As Rena watched Carol seize up into a jerky orgasm, she nearly slipped and fell into the tub. She was hyperventilating and felt dizzy from lack of oxygen. She splashed some water on her face to cool her fever. Carol had collapsed back down onto Mike's chest and was uncharacteristically silent.
Rena drank the rest of her Merlot in one big gulp. She repositioned herself so that she could sit on the edge of the tub, avoiding another slip, yet still attend the sex theater. Her wet nipples were erect from the cool air and the excitement, and her pussy was soaking wet. It wasn't from the foaming bath oil.
Mike rolled Carol off of him, onto her back, kneeling between her legs. His cock was just barely visible and Rena couldn't really tell what he was packing. Carol's arms were thrown over her head and Rena could just make out her tiny nipples. Everything looks smaller from 50 ft away.
Mike held Carol's ankles and pushed them back towards her head. She reached for his cock and guided it into her splayed pussy. With one powerful thrust, he sank his entire length into her. Carol found her voice again.
"Shit! Mike! Fuck me! Oh, God! Fuck me! Don't be gentle," Carol barked. Mike had no intention of being gentle with her.
Carol's legs were spread wide and her pussy was raised to receive his hammering blows. With each pounding thrust, Carol rocked on the bed, her legs swinging in mid-air. Mike mercilessly fucked her, faster and faster, until even the bed's crying became audible. With one final powerful lunge, he threw himself into her and released a long howling groan. Carol seemed to appreciate his brutality.
"Oh, Mike! That's it, cum inside of me! Fill me up!" Carol loudly called for his bodily fluids.
Rena watched Mike's ass cheeks squeeze tight with each ejaculation. After he finished he rolled onto his back, finally revealing his shimmering cock laying on his belly. Carol got up and left the bedroom while Rena continued staring at Mike's cock, still undecided about its actual size.
Rena sat back down in the tub, breathing heavily, but breathing. The water had cooled some, so she quickly rinsed her own slippery pussy and pulled the drain plug. She wondered what she would have to say to Mike and Carol at the next backyard barbeque. She put on her robe and took a final look out the window. Their bedroom light was turned off, but Rena was now turned on.
I was in the basement, working on a guitar amplifier, when I heard the M-80 explosion. I knew which kid was at fault, I'd seen him set one off 2 nights ago. I ran out the basement patio door, looking over towards his house, but he had already run away.
"Little bastard," I mumbled.
I was so focused on catching the little brat that I never noticed Carol's cries of passion. I couldn't even see their house from our patio.
I went back to my workbench to finish fixing the amplifier, hoping not to electrocute myself. This old vacuum tube amp had 400 volts inside and it demanded my undivided attention. I heard the bath drain through the plumbing just as the amp starting showing signs of life. This was a good time to stop, so I shut it off, locked up, and went upstairs to find Rena. I had no idea what I was in for.
Rena was sitting on the bed, watching SNL, when I walked into the bedroom.
"Did you hear that explosion?" Rena asked. "Did you see who did it?"
"Yeah, I heard it, all right. It was you know who, the Little Bastard." I really didn't like that kid very much, he was a trouble maker.
Rena got up and walked over to give me a kiss as I got undressed.
"Did you take your vitamin?" Rena cooed into my ear and pressed her breasts against me.
"I took half of one. That should be enough." I looked down at the growing bulge in my jeans.
"Why don't you take the other half, too? I'm not feeling very sleepy." Rena grabbed my cock and started humping my leg. She went back to watch TV as I went to take a shower. I took the other half of my vitamin, just in case.
When I returned, Rena was lying naked on the bed, on her tummy. This was the signal for sex protocol number 2. There would be a back massage therapy session, followed by some preliminary rear-entry intercourse. Step 3 put her on her back for oral sex, followed by more intercourse in her favorite missionary position. At some point during the 4 step procedure, she was certain to have an orgasm. Over the years, we've honed our lovemaking to simple, effective steps. What can I say? You don't mess with success.
I poured oil on her back and began with a therapeutic massage. Her lumbar and hamstrings were feeling sore from 4 days of hiking. The massage eventually turned sensual as I oiled her buttocks, hip bones, calves, and feet. Rena has always enjoyed being touched like this. The erotic phase began when she spread her legs and arched her back. I massaged the inner parts of her thighs, moving steadily towards the final destination.
When my oily hands encountered her soaking wet pussy, Rena gave a little groan. This was unusual. She typically needed step 3 to get this worked up. I decided to give her a little internal vaginal massage, to test her excitement level. As I pushed my index finger inside of her, some of her juices squirted back out onto my hand.
"Jeez, Rena! What did you put in your bath?" Rena wasn't talking, just humming into the comforter.
I pushed 2 fingers into her pussy and pressed down against her G-spot. More juice flowed from her as I stirred around inside. She was hot and wet and pushing back up against my fingertips. Rena brought her hands down and underneath to diddle her clit and I started rubbing my wet thumb in small circles against her anus. She was growling something unintelligible and gyrating her hips around my hand and fingers. It looked like I would be skipping step 2.
I pulled my hand out and rolled her onto her back. There was already a wet spot on the bed where her pussy had just been. It had been a while since I'd observed Rena on the brink of an orgasm. I usually have my face buried between her legs, or the lights are out, but this time I got the full Technicolor display. Her face, neck, and breasts were a rich salmon color that complemented her complexion. Her pussy glistened in the light and her fully erect clitoris stood out from its hood. Her face was contorted with a pained expression as she panted and wheezed. Time was running out.
I dove into a prone position, sucking her clit into my mouth and pushing my fingers back into her pussy. Rena grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in. As she ground herself into my face I pushed my fingers up inside of her. She lasted a whole 30 seconds before coming hard. I scrambled up onto my hands to get a look at her huge puckered nipples; another delightful treat.
"Jesus, Rena! What the hell? What were you guys up to?" I didn't know about Mike and Carol, not yet.
My vitamin-enriched cock sprang up as I rose onto my knees. Rena opened her eyes and pulled her knees up to her chest. Her pained expression had changed to one of desperation.
"Fuck me," she exhaled. "Don't be gentle."
Falling forward, I rested my hands on her tits and slammed my cock into her pussy. Displaced juices gushed out of her and splashed onto my belly. Rena's legs swung in mid-air as I repeatedly bounced my cock off her cervix. Even the bed frame was creaking. I lasted a little longer than she did, maybe 3 minutes.
After washing up, we went straight to bed. Rena beat me to sleep, but her snoring didn't keep me awake for long. Like proverbial logs, I don't think either of us moved. It was before dawn when she woke up with a full bladder. Getting up to pee, she noticed that I was sleeping on my back; half covered, and mostly erect. The vitamin-V had enhanced my natural morning erection.
Rena returned to the edge of the bed, slowly pulling the comforter off of me. She quietly sat down and gently put my cock into her mouth. Still asleep, I didn't realize what was happening, but my cock was responding. I slowly awoke to the surreal vision of Rena's head bobbing up and down. I really thought it was a dream.
She climbed on top of me and guided me inside. Sex dreams about Mike and Carol had rekindled her fire. Caressing and kissing my face, she slowly humped and gyrated on my renewed erection. I was fully awake now and she cradled my head up to her tit, brushing my lips with her erect nipple. As I sucked on her mammary offering, her grinding became more urgent, and her breathing more rapid. Rena knew she could come again, but not in this position.
She rolled off of me and lay on her back, perpendicular to my body. As I rolled onto my side, she put her legs over my pelvis and guided my cock back inside of her. This was a familiar, low-impact position we used when we had little energy, but lots of time. In slow motion, I alternated between penetration and rubbing my cock over her clit.
Rena was moaning softly and using her fingers to guide my cock and stimulate herself. Soon, her motions became a little jerky and her groaning more urgent. Taking over for her, I used my fingers to massage her clit as I steadily fucked her. With her arms thrown over her head, she rocked back and forth with me.
As the first light of dawn crept through our bedroom window, I watched Rena shudder with her orgasm. I couldn't see her face, just the silhouette of her breasts heaving with her spasms. This time, I came right along with her.
A week later, Rena and I were enjoying another pleasant Saturday night on the deck. She had just finished telling me about Mike and Carol's sexcapade. I was amazed by the story she told, finally understanding her unusual behavior, but not terribly surprised.
"So, you'd never watch other people have sex, eh?" I fed her words back to her. "Never?"
"Well, maybe seldom watch is a better way to phrase it," Rena smiled mischievously.
I shook my head and marveled at her perverted mind, really thankful that I had married her. Just as we were finishing our drinks, the agonizing karaoke show resumed. Rena gave me a devious glance and we both hurried inside to bathe.