Simple Selfie Ch. 01

"What did you just say?"

"You heard. This connection isn't that bad."

"No, please. Repeat it."

"Okay. I said send me a naked selfie."

There was silence on the line.

"Look," I continued, "I'm on this trip for two weeks. I thought it would be fun."

"For you." There was a hint of a chuckle in her voice. Some snarkiness, some sarcasm.

"Well, for you too, knowing you're bringing me pleasure with something so simple."

More silence.

My wife, Jane, was a beautiful woman, radiant now I'm her mid-40s. She stayed out of the sun, keeping her complexion youthful. Though she had gained a fee pounds in our 20 years together, who hadnt, she had glorious round breasts that perfectly filled her 36C bras. Some hard work at the gym in recent months was paying off with a visibly tighter ass.

All this made our staggeringly infrequent intimacy all the more disappointing. To be fair we'd never been rabbits, even in the early days. Jane had done some experimenting with her first partners, and discovered she wasn't really into any of it. So by the time I came along she knew what she wanted, and that was about it. Which really honked me off, to be honest. Why wouldn't she be open to trying those things with me? For me? This logic made no sense to her. She just liked her sex her way, which was vanilla. She saw the purpose as the orgasm, and the journey counted for little other than time that could be spent doing other less sticky things.

It wasn't like I was asking for anything crazy. I did want to tie her up so I could do what I wanted to her. Just one time. But she did that with a previous guy and decided she didn't like it, so it was never on the agenda.

I could count on my fingers the number of blowjobs I'd had. Not even birthdays or anniversaries! It hurt her jaw. On the one hand there was a hint of awesome about this because the reasoning was my cock was too big. She had, to be fair, talked to her doctor in the early days because she wouldn't get wet on her own, so my size, being the biggest she'd had, was uncomfortable. That's where the insertion of a tube of lube came in, until we streamlined that process to me applying for her. But it also ruled out anything spontaneous.

No, sex was light foreplay, the start signified by "get the lube" and then proceeded through me stimulating her manually to get her generally dry pussy slippery enough to take my cock. That was a few minutes work where she kept her eyes closed, and I assumed, thought of the guys from one of her TV shows being in my place. She'd get to a point where she'd say "Okay," open her eyes, then we'd see if I was on top or her.

I liked her on top because those beautiful breasts would sway in my face, feel so soft as I cupped them (but no touching the nipple, she didn't like that). But she wouldn't sit back on my cock fully. Said it was uncomfortable, so I never got that great vision of her proudly astride me, her clit rubbing at the base of my cock as it was buried deep in her lubricated pussy. She'd rock on top of me, maybe allow me to slap her ass a bit, until I came inside her. She'd roll off, and I'd manually bring her off, the mix of my cum and the lube creating a slippery morass of sex smells and matted pubes.

She did trim down there, but only once fully shaved as I requested. A few days later she was complaining of the itch and didn't like my suggestion to just keep it shaved all the time. Because the hood of her clit peeked out from the top of her pussy lips she said it was uncomfortable in her panties, and she liked the bit of fur buffer there. What that suggested to me was that she could be getting off just by sitting around or moving, and that seemed like a good thing, but I guess not.

When I first fully shaved my cock and balls she was stunned. Said it looked like she was going to have sex with a child, which made her uncomfortable. i really couldn't win. But I kept myself closely trimmed for my own edification.

It was getting weird, and, frankly, stressful as the less we were intimate the more I thought about it. I even wondered if she was actually having an affair. I mean, she was away on business trips, had male friends, maybe she was really getting it elsewhere. But that was just my not realizing someone could just have no interest; that's despite her being a very sexy woman, who clearly understood the situation. She even did a professional boudouir photo shoot as part of being brave about herself. She worked out a lot, bought sexy lingerie, and did the shoot. And never wore the bras or little panties ever again. The best I could do was look through some of the pictures she let me have on my computer.

There were a number of nights I knocked one out myself to sexy-but not naked-pictures of my own wife who was sleeping in the next room. It just seemed such a waste, that she could be worshipped by someone-me-in this way, and have no interest. My thoughts started getting crazier: what if I offered her the chance to take a lover, so long as I was there, the cuckold in the corner. I reconciled myself with the thought of seeing my wife taking another man's cock, sucking him, letting him come on her face, even if I couldn't. At least I would need to be there, and I figured I'd get off watching this. I've seen the videos out there of the cuckold lifestyle. I could handle it.

Or what about swinging? She could get other cock and I could get different pussy, and we'd learn a lot. But what the hell was I thinking? If she was just plain not interested in sex, how could we ever open the door to more advanced sexual identities? I'd have to think of somehting else, see if there was another angle that I might persuade her to consider.

Hence this phone call and my beer-emboldened suggestion.

-

The pregnant pause at the other end of the phone raised questions. Was she so livid at the inference she would give me the silent treatment? Was she just disgusted, and letting me hang myself with my words? I mean, there's no way she would be considering it, right?

"I'm not some teenager," she finally retorted. Reading every nuance in her tone, it seemed her attitude was neutral. Just, like, whatever. Dumb husband says dumb thing. Not the first time, won't be the last.

"I wouldn't even know where to start."

Wait, what? Did the door just open a fraction.

"Well..." these now had to be the very right words... just push that door a bit, don't barge through it and scare her off.

"Well...you get your phone, hold it out in front of you, take the picture, go to the gallery, and text it to me."

Simple. Just spell it out with no authority or over-eagerness. Try to make it no biggie, just a simple text attachment.

"But what if I send it to the wrong person?"

"Er... don't?!"

"Hmmm..."

There was definite wavering in her voice. I think she's really contemplating it. Genuinely. Like she might do it.

"It would be awesome. I mean really, the true definition of the word."

Her sassy side now crept into her voice.

"I'm sure you'd love it you perv."

Okay, trying to push it now.

"Come on, it will be fun."

"Again, for you. What do I get in return?"

"You don't want a picture of my cock do you?"

"You don't know..."

She always said that when she was saying no to something (usually sex-related) and didn't want to outright say no. It became a regular thing so it was her polite code for a "Hell NO."

"You show me yours, maybe i'll show you mine."

There was definite sexy in that tone.

"Anyway, it's late," she continued, "you need to sleep, you have meetings tomorrow, and I've to be up early. So I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay, honey, sounds good. Love you loads. And send me that selfie."

I laughed and heard the sound of her eyes rolling!

"Goodnight, dear, love you too."

With that the line went silent and I hung up. Maybe she was thinking about it. Probably not.

But dammit, I'm not going to let it end here. I'm going to make sure it's a thing that we have to address in some way. At the very worst, make her outright say no. She'll feel bad about it because she knows she's denying something easy to do for me that I would adore, and she's going to disappoint me. Again.

And part of the reasoning behind making the request is that she's been in a state of mind recently that she calls 'being brave.' She's done a few things she has hinted at wanting to do, but never did. Simple stuff, like singing karaoke. She can hold a tune, loves music, but would never get up in front of people. Couple of weeks ago, with friends at a local dive karaoke bar, she got up there and even did some dirty dancing with my buddy as they rocked out. He loved it. I mean, LOVED it, as she has great dance moves, and really knows how to shake it.

Another example of the frustration that this asexual attitude can cause.

So, what was I to do? I slip out of my sports shorts and just the thought of this scenario had caused my cock to rise a little. Do I send a softie or do I get hard? Hmm. Hard is way more sexual. Do I just point down and take the pic or use the full length mirror in the bathroom? If I do that, how do I look? Is it goofy? Serious?

What would Jane NOT be horrified by?

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, started the camera app, aimed at my cock and clicked. Once, twice, three times. Now to look at them? Hmm, looks a little small like that. Delete. Too dark. Delete. Still too small.

I head over to the mirror and shoot another. That just looks weird, like why am I randomly naked in the mirror, taking a picture. I turn to the side. Nice ass, but shows too much expanding gut. That's not accentuating the positive. Straight on I spead my legs wide, letting my cock dangle clearly. Hmm, that's possible, I'll keep that. I start to stroke my cock, let some blood flow, see some size. I'm really only a regular six inches, but have decent girth. The boys she previously slept with must have all been below average. I liked that about them, even if they got to try things with Jane that I was denied!

Now I was semi-erect and it looked good in the mirror, but possibly too sexual for this first pass. I did a goofy one, cupping my cock and shaved balls in one hand, looking good to see them spill over the sides. Another goofy coy one, sticking my ass out, looking over my shoulder into the mirror, one hand covering my mouth as the tip of my now erect cock peeked into the image. I think that's a keeper.

But none of them struck me as a good first move. I sat on the edge of the bed, thinking, as my cock got softer and fell naturally on to my thigh. I clicked the camera button, looking down and checked out the image. That was the one. Looked a good size, not showing her a hard-on, casual, didn't have a goofy face. This was the one to send. And I'm going to do it now before I wimp out.

Draining the last of my wine glass, I pull up my text messages, double check I'm replying just to her, not a thread with friends we had going-that would be awkward-attach the image and type the words:

:Thinking of you:.

Stare at it for a few seconds. Then mentally say "screw it" and hit send. Now I wait.

And wait. It's a good 20 minutes later and I'm half asleep when the phone buzzes on the nightstand next to me. I grab it frantically as my heart starts racing. First, is it even her responding? Second, what is she going to say?

Yes, it's Jane. A simple message:

:Is that all you think of me?"

Wait, what does that mean? Does she mean I'm offending her, demeaning her by sending a picture of my cock? Or, well...? Is there any chance that she's being kind of flirty, that my flaccid cock doesn't speak for how hot I think she is? Oh, the vagaries of text messages. I'm tempted to call her.

My cock is responding all on its own to this adventure, growing slowly along my thigh. It's telling me to double-down on this, to follow-up with a full hard-on. But when has listening to your penis every been a good overall decision? It's known through history to not only have a mind of its own, but be capable of much stupidity when it exerts its own unique train of thought.

I'd refiilled the wine glass earlier, and now swirled the Cabernet around my mouth as I considered this next step. I stroked my cock as I daydreamed of my beautiful wife being a little turned on by this move. I'd never seen her masterbate. She didn't play with her clit during sex, or even cup her boobs. Since the nipples were essentially off-limits, I guess there was no point. During our last marathon dry spell, however, I managed to drop in a "rub one out" line during a fun conversation about something completely different. It's the first time I'd intimated that I figured she took care of herself despite me being right there... like, RIGHT THERE... and she actually laughed, as close as I'd get to an acknowledgment that she would take care of her own business from time to time. But no, that's crazy thinking, but good enough thinking for my cock to get rock hard. The end was deep red, and it felt as hard as I could remember, maybe in years.

Click. Okay, camera-phone, is this a winner?

Damn, looks pretty good pointed out to my left hip. I'd always been okay with how my cock looked. My circumcision scar was really faint and one major vein gave some shape and definition, while my trimmed pubes helped it look a bit bigger, which was the main reason I'd kept it lke this. Well, that and an earlier incident with a cock ring. I had never used one, and was reading about them-just some of the bullshit web-browising you do at 2am when you should be sleeping or doing absolutely anything else-and bought one at an online store I'd used to by some sexy lingerie for Jane that I'd actually kept hidden as there was never a moment I felt it okay to introduce. Just a cupless, crotchless body stocking. Pretty sexy, I thought. But anyway, while Jane was away visiting her family I tried the ring, figuring out if I put it over cock and balls, or just at the base of my shaft. (Answer was over cock and balls). It was weird. I lost a good inch on length while wearing it, but gained that inch in girth. It kinda felt like stroking someone else's cock when I started because the sensation had changed. I was less sensitive, like it wasn't me. But I came really hard when wearing it, more like my teenage years. Then I tried to take it off and ripped out a bunch of hairs in an excrutiating reminder that I had never trimmed down there. So it started.

Anyway, the picture. Another sip of wine. Text to Jane. Typing:

:I misspoke, this is what happens when I think of you sending me the pic I asked for.:

Fuck it. Send.

And wait.

Seconds later, incoming text. It's Jane. What will she say?

:Haha. That's better. I think I know what you'll be doing next. LOL xoxo:

Holy fucking shit. She liked it. She's playing.

:I showed you mine...: I text back. Now it's on.

Immediately I get a response:

:One moment, caller. Don't push it:

I think she's going to do it. Damn, did I step over the line? I wait, and my hard-on waits with me.

Two minutes. Three. Five. WTF?

Then a text. :Check your email:

I pull open my laptop and it takes a few seconds to reconnect to the shitty hotel wi-fi. New mail. From Jane. With an attachment.

I'm nervous, excited. I open it.

It's a picture of us on our wedding day over 15 years ago. Damn, we looked pretty good. Look how trim I was back then. Shit, I need to work these abs some more. Also, WTF? My phone buzzes.

:Did you get it:

:I did. I love that picture. Was just thinking "Damn, we looked good that day.":

:we did. check email again:

I refresh. Another email from Jane. Another attachment. I open it and there's cleavage bursting out of a light blue, lace, super sexy bra. It's her. And that's one of the bras she wore for the boudoir shoot. There's shoulders, no face. But an impressive rack, no doubt. It's a bit blurry. But it's a real selfie.

:Thanks. Love it. i mean, LOVE it. But...:

:I knew there would be a BUT. Never satisfied.:

:Hon, no, sorry, I didn't mean anything bad. I love it. Don't be mad:

:I'm not, I'm fucking with you, dipshit, check your email:

Oh my god. I refresh again. Another email from Jane. Another attachment.

I open it and there she is. My beautiful wife, looking a bit awkward, a bit goofy in her face as she's self-consciously taking a selfie with the bra clearly unhooked, straps loose on her upper arms, one arm under her incredible breasts, holding them up as her pink nipples poke over the cups of that blue bra. It is so sexy. So simple.

Another buzz.

:get it?:

:that is so hot, so hot:

:thx, now take care of your business, and get some sleep:

:Perv:

:I can neither confirm nor deny:

That orgasm, just a few minutes later, was one I will remember forever, shooting long and far as I stared at Jane's breasts so sexily caught in a selfie. What I had no idea about at this point was where the simple sexy selfie would lead...

[to be continued]