The Perfect Aphrodisiac

"Let's shower and go back to the pool," she said. "I promised myself some tan lines, John."

"Okay, we'll have lunch at the pool bar."

And I'll experiment a little more with my newfound aphrodisiac while we eat.

* * * * *

John glanced at his wife. To his mind, she was the sexiest female around the bar and pool. Oh, she was no longer a youngster, but then neither was he. She had nursed their two children, and her nipples had become larger, baby-chewed he called them, and her heavy breasts sagged a little. He loved to roll her large, baby-chewed nipples around in his mouth and nibble on them. Her hips were no longer girlish, which was fine with him, too. After all, she wasn't a girl. She was a woman, and what a woman!

The story she told him about Horse kept intruding. He knew she had been wild before he met her; she had admitted as much, and he had always wanted to hear details from her wild years, specifics like her story about Horse. Gawd, that had been sexy. It was only noon and they had made love twice today already. No, this morning before they left the room, they had made love. A half hour ago they had fucked. Gawd, did they ever fuck! He felt a twinge of arousal, which surprised him. Well, why not? Wasn't this supposed to be their second honeymoon?

He noticed Gail studying a couple of women sitting to their right. She returned to the food in front of her, but soon the women captured her attention again. What interests her about those women, he asked himself, and soon he, too, was glancing furtively at them. They looked to be about the same age, and although he wasn't good at guessing ages, he put them in their late twenties. The short, dark-haired one was a bit chunky, about twenty pounds overweight, he calculated, and the other one, the redhead, was on the skinny side and tall, about five eight - Gail's height. The tall one, dotted with masses of freckles, was definitely in need of some more meat on her bones. Her breasts were nearly non-existent, but her hips were wide.

Gail turned to him and blushed. What's going on?

"What interests you about those two women?" he asked.

"I think they're lovers," Gail said.

His head spun back toward them. He could see no signs they were lovers, but then he couldn't tell if a man were gay unless he was effeminate, and Gail had told him not all effeminate men were gay.

"What makes you think they're lovers?" he asked.

"I could be wrong, and if they're lovers neither of them are died-in-the-wool lesbians. I'd guess they're bisexual."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. The tall, skinny one adores the short, chunky one, but her eyes also followed the hunk serving drinks." She snickered. "Mine, too - followed the hunk, that is."

"Careful, you'll make me jealous."

"Marvelous!" She laughed and then turned serious. "Sometimes I've wished I could make you a little jealous, John, but upon reflection I know jealousy in any amount would be counterproductive. Unlike those women, we're comfortable with each other, comfortable with our devotion each to the other. I love you, John." She took her hand in his, and he noted a little fear enter her eyes. "Are you sure I didn't go too far with the story about Horse?"

He grinned and he felt her hand squeeze his. "No, I loved it. I've been curious about your wild years for a long time. The story didn't put me off at all. It excited the hell out of me, and hearing about the event didn't diminish you in my eyes or mind in the slightest. Just the opposite. It made me realize yet again just how sexy and sexual you are. You were twenty-four when we married, Gail, and certainly no virgin, thank God. You were sexually experienced, and your expertise endeared me to you then, and still does."

What he really wanted was to hear more stories about her wild years, and the nastier the better. But he hesitated to tell her. Thinking about Gail with another man excited the hell out of him, but it embarrassed him, too. Would she think less of him if she knew his quirky desire? He didn't understand it himself, how could he expect her to understand and accept it without making him less of a man in her eyes.

She chuckled. "No, I certainly wasn't a virgin, not by a long shot." She grinned. "But then, neither were you. You're the best lover I ever had, John - including Horse." She laughed. "Especially Horse. He was hung but a bit dull upstairs. A man's intelligence is as important as his body. You have the perfect package, at least for me. That's why I fell in love with you."

She sipped her drink, and he noticed she glanced back toward the bisexual women. He had accepted her concept of their sexuality without question.

"What's your take on bisexuality, John?" she asked suddenly.

"Two men turn me off big time. I'm almost homophobic, but I have to admit thinking about two women...ah, let's just say two woman turn me on." He knew he was blushing.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"What about me? Have you ever pictured me with another woman?"

He was drinking when she asked the question, and he sputtered and coughed. What a question! Yes, he had thought about her with another woman. While considering her wild years, his imagination had placed her in a host of naughty scenarios, and Gail naked and sweaty with another woman had been one of them - one of his favorites, if the truth were known. But should he admit enjoying the fantasy? Would she think less of him for being turned on thinking about her with another woman?

She chortled, a low burbling sound. "Sorry."

He wiped his face with his napkin.

"Well?" she said.

What the hell? "Yes, sort of."

She chuckled. "Sort of?"

He blushed. "Make that a definite yes."

"Did it turn you on or off?"

"On, definitely."

"Hmm, what would you say if I told you I've been with another woman?"

"Jesus! Really?"

"Answer my question, please."

"I'd say tell me about it." She's full of surprises today. Gawd, I love it. He also felt himself becoming erect again.

"You wouldn't resent me for hiding something about me for nigh on nine years? Something important about me you I should have told you before we got married?"

"Have you been with another woman since we got married?"

"No, of course not. I took our marriage vows seriously, John. For me, being with another woman would be just as unfaithful as being with another man. You didn't answer my question."

"It that case, I would harbor no resentment. You surprised me. That's all." He smiled. "I admit I've fantasized about you with another woman, and the fantasy turned me on."

"Tell me about your fantasy."

"It's a bit vague and varies from time to time."

"Are you part of the fantasy, like in a threesome?"

"Yes, sometimes."

"Never happen, big guy."

"I know, and I don't really want that to happen. Me, you and another woman would make me unfaithful - you, too. Like you, I took our vows seriously. I've never cheated on you, Gail. However, I have, like Jimmy Carter, lusted in my mind - a lot."

She laughed. "Me, too."

He still didn't know if she had been with another woman. Every thing she'd said had implied she had, but she'd avoided an overt confession.

"Well, have you?"

Her lids of her eyes lowered a little, as if she felt shameful, and she studied her hands. "Yes," she said quietly before she turned her eyes to his and gazed at him intently. "Like those women, John, I think I'm bisexual. At least the few times I've been with women gave me pleasure. I prefer men, but..."

She glanced down at his crotch. He knew she could see the bulge. He was half-hard, at least. She smiled. "You don't seem to be turned off by my admission. Quite the opposite, it would appear." Glancing around to make sure they weren't being watched, she reached and rubbed her hand sensuously across his erection, and then gave it a sexy squeeze. "Would you like me to tell you about my first time with a woman?"

"Gawd, yes!"

His enthusiastic expression was a bit loud, and he noticed eyes turn toward them, as did Gail. She quickly removed her hand. "When?" she asked.

"How about now?" he whispered.

"No, let's give it another hour. I don't want you to overdo yourself." She chuckled.

"In another hour, my balls will be aching."

She cocked her head. "Are you sure?"

"Uh-huh. Let me sign for the meal, and we'll..."

"I'll take care of the check. You can't stand up the way you are. I'll meet you in the room. Don't dally too long, honey."

He watched his wife pick up the check and walk away. He loved her sexy glide with her hips undulating, provoking, but not appearing too sluttish. She paid the bartender for their lunch and drinks, turned to him with a wicked grin and moved away toward the hotel proper. He didn't know where Gail had been hiding the woman she had become today all these years, but he was very happy she'd brought her out into the clear light of day. Bisexual! He would have never guessed, not in a million years. Gawd, what a sight that would be! He'd love to see her with another woman...no, she was correct. They had made promises to each other, promises both of them had kept for over eight years. Now wouldn't be the time to break them. He'd be more than happy hearing about a past experience. More than happy with the mental pictures Gail would invoke with her words like she did when she told him about Horse. Gail told a hell of a story.

Glancing down, he noticed he was still half-hard, and he started mentally reciting the logarithm tables. Though unbidden images continued to intrude, he five minutes later he rose to his feet. He felt like a teenager again as he pushed himself away from the table. With one last glance toward the bisexual women, he noticed two men had joined them. Had Gail been wrong?

Ah, hell, it didn't matter if she were wrong or right. Thinking the women were lovers had taken his wife down the path that had revealed she had been with women in her past. John couldn't wait to hear the details and rushed away toward the room and his sexy wife.

* * * * * While Gail waited naked in the center of the king-sized bed for John to arrive, she touched herself, dipping a finger inside and pulling out some natural lubricant to roll over her clitoris. She was hot again and wondered whether the heat had arrived because of her husband's obvious excitement over her revelation she was bisexual or the memory of her first time with a woman. Oh, she'd messed around in her early teens with girlfriends, but she didn't count those brief sexual explorations. None had been consummated. Shelly had come the closest, but they didn't go beyond mutual masturbation. They had both been too self-conscious, and then both of them had started to date, and boys took center stage.

Suddenly she started to worry. Had she gone too far too fast? She hadn't planned to announce her bisexuality until later, much later, but watching the two women at the pool had created the opportunity. Besides, John had reacted positively. She'd tested him thoroughly before finally admitting she enjoy women as well as men during her wild years. How much should she tell him? Should she admit she nearly fell in love? No, not today, at least. She'd merely describe the delicious sensations Kristin had evoked.

She heard the door open and she pulled her fingers from her pussy. They felt sticky, and she was rubbing them against the sheet as John strode into the room. He smiled at her and her heart melted at the same time her arousal soared. She sure did love him a lot.

"Get naked and join me," she said, her voice low and sultry on purpose, though in truth the timbre of her voice matched her mood.

Unreasonably, she was disappointed when he shucked his swimming trunks. His lovely cock was flaccid, though it was stretched, dangling longer than normal. He rolled onto the bed and took her in his arms. While he kissed her, she fondled his cock, but her hand seemed to have no effect on its state, so she pulled out her newfound aphrodisiac.

"Do you want me to tell you about some brief Sapphic explorations from when I was a girl, or the first time I was with a woman?" Magic! What a find? She wondered is she should write up her discovery of a perfect aphrodisiac and submit it to a women's magazine. She had no doubt they would publish it. Of course, it wouldn't work on all men, only those who were confident with their masculinity and certain of the love of their partners.

"Tell me about when you were a girl later. I want to hear about the first time you were with a woman."

"Good. That was my choice, too. Would you do me a favor, John?"

"Sure?"

"Would you go down on me while I tell you about Kristin? That's the main thing women do for each other, you know, and you have such a talented mouth, I'll be able to pretend you're Kristin."

His eyes widened, and then he smiled. "Nothing would give me more pleasure, Gail, but as you tell me about Kristin, I want you to tell me how my technique differed from hers."

"What a marvelous idea! Of course, I will."

He rolled between her legs and scooted down on the bed with his feet hanging over the edge.

"I'm a little self-conscious about this, John, so I'm just going to close my eyes and relax and tell you what happened, sort of a stream of consciousness kind of thing. Okay?"

"Uh-huh. Am I allowed to ask questions?"

"Certainly. Let's see, I met Kristin right after I graduated from high school. I was eighteen; she was twenty-three. I managed to find a job with a law firm as a receptionist. She was a paralegal for the same firm. I had never been attracted to a woman before, and the attraction I felt for her surprised me. Later, I asked her if she had recognized a kindred spirit in me, but she said although she was attracted to me, she didn't think I'd be interested in her sexually. Kristin was bisexual, but unlike me she preferred women to men and knew if I had any interest in sex with a woman, it would be temporary, at best. Besides, she told me men flocked around me, which was true. Two or three men hit on me every day, and for the most part I loved it. Oh, your mouth feels exquisite, John. Kristin wouldn't be quite so rough, though, not yet. Yes, like that. Yes! Just like that!"

"Describe her for me, Gail."

"Yes. Let's see, she was shorter than me, about five six, maybe. A brunette, and she kept her hair cut short and molded around her face, making her look like a pixie. She had a mischievous look about her, and when she smiled she lit up the room. She had a slim, very feminine figure, perky breasts, a narrow waist, flat stomach, fairly wide hips, but slim, shapely thighs. In fact, her legs were to die for. Her neck was long and graceful, like her hands. A dainty woman, but all woman, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, like you," John said lifting his mouth from her pussy momentarily.

"Yes, sort of like I am now, not like I was then. I was still a teenager with girlish hips then. Oh, you're going to like this. She shaved off all of her pubic hair. Of course, I didn't know that until later.

"At the time, I was dating a lot, a couple to three nights during the week and three or four dates on the weekend, and..."

"Three or four dates on the weekend? How can you have four dates on a weekend?"

"Easy. Friday night, breakfast or lunch Saturday, Saturday night, breakfast or lunch on Sunday, and Sunday night. Oops that's five. I did that a few times, too."

"With different men?"

"Sometimes. Other times I spent the entire weekend with one man, though I was still living at home, so I didn't do that very often. I told you I was wild, John, and before you ask, no, I didn't fuck all of them." More than I'd like to admit, though, and certainly more than I'll ever admit to you, love of my life.

"Go on. Get to the good stuff."

She chuckled. "I have the good stuff between my legs right now. Ooh, that feels so good. Your talented tongue is making me very hot, John."

"Come on."

"Oh, okay. Speaking about spending an entire weekend with someone, I did just that with Kristin. One Friday evening she gave a cocktail party. I was invited and attended, and yes, I sipped white wine, though I was still underage for the then current drinking laws. The powers that be..."

"Skip the damned drinking laws."

Her laugh shook her body, which enhanced her pussy's connection with John's mouth. "I'm sorry," she said when she calmed down. "As you can see, I'm nervous about telling you this. Here goes. The party broke up about eight o'clock, and I stayed to help Kristin pick up. I was wearing a slinky cocktail dress, sans bra, thigh-high hose and frilly panties. Kristin was more formal, wearing a business suit, albeit a sexy one, and before we started the cleanup process, Kristin suggested we change clothes, offering to lend me some of hers, and we trooped back to her bedroom together.

"I thought she'd pull out some clothes and hand them to me, and I'd change in the bathroom, but upon entering her bedroom, she took off her clothes, all of them, until she stood in front of her closet naked. Gawd, she was beautiful! I loved her body, and it excited me, John. I felt my nipples harden and my pussy became a little moist. Should I strip, too? I remember shrugging and saying to myself, 'Why not?' Soon I, too, was naked, and the two of us stood looking at each other for many seconds. A second in such a circumstance is a long time, and time stretched out. We didn't speak, either. Merely stood there and gazed at each other, our eyes moving from place to place on the other's body like ghostly hands. I swear, I could 'feel' her touch me when her eyes focused on my breasts, 'feel' her touch me when her gaze moved down to my hairy pussy. Finally, Kristin broke the silence.

"'We're going to have to do something about all that hair,' she said and smiled, and the room brightened. Of course, I had noticed her completely hairless pussy. I had studied her as much as she had studied me, so I knew what she meant.

"'I want to keep a small patch at the top,' I said, and she nodded.

"'Come with me,' she took me by my hand, and it was electric, as if sparks moved from her to me. My hand tingled, and my pussy quivered as she pulled me into a sumptuous bathroom. 'Hop up on the counter,' she said, and I did, feeling a little foolish. She gathered a shaving soap cup and brush, a razor and some scissors, and ran the water until it was hot. After rolling around the brush in the soap cup, creating substantial latter, she sat in the chair she had pulled up from her dressing area and pushed my knees wide. I felt awkward and so open. My cunt was fully exposed. 'Scoot forward a little,' she said. 'I'll use the scissors to trim you first, and then the razor.' I complied, but I didn't have anywhere to rest my feet. 'Use the arms of the chair,' she suggested. I tried that, but they were too low, so I pulled my feet up to the counter, which opened me up to her gaze that much more."

"Jesus, Gail. I want to shave you sometime."

"Okay. I remember the scissors felt cold and I winced. She apologized and placed them under her armpit for a few seconds. While the scissors warmed, she talked to me. She told me I was beautiful, that I excited her, that my cunt was pretty now, and when she was finished it would be that much prettier - things like that, sort of in a chatty manner, certainly not passionate. I also remember I wanted her to be passionate. I wanted to reach for the back of her head and pull her mouth to my cunt. Gawd, I was hot. We had hardly touched each other, but still I was as excited as I would have been after a half-hour make-out session with a man. I was as hot as I am now, and you know how hot you make me with your talented mouth.

"She started with the scissors, being very careful with them around my labia. Reaching with her fingers, she pulled each lip up, and then carefully cut the hair on them as close to the skin as possible. When she finished, she brushed my cunt with her fingers to dislodge any hair that had been cut but still lingered. Ooh, that felt good, and I remembered groaning with passion. 'Patience,' she said. The lather in the cup had gone down, but she swirled the brush, and soon it was thicker than before. I'll never forget the moment she put the brush on my cunt, the brush filled with smooth hot lather. When she swirled it around on my cunt, I climaxed, John. An orgasm slammed into me without warning. I remember seeing her eyes widen with passion just before my eyes rolled to the back of my head, and as I humped my cunt toward the brush, she shoved it hard against my clit, and pushed two fingers inside my vagina. I rode out the orgasm, but I was still hot. She calmly removed her fingers from my cunt, and started to shave my labia with the razor. I had a few aftershocks, but she seemed to anticipate them and didn't cut me. Looking down, I could see my throbbing clit poking completely out of its hood, and it was swollen larger than I had ever seen it before. She finished shaving me, leaving a patch at the top about two inches wide and an inch or two high, but she had trimmed even the patch flat. The hair was less than a half-inch long. 'Now I need to do your pretty butt,' she said, and started to build up the lather again."