The Sailor's Wife Ch. 03: Regression

This is the third installment of the Sailor's Wife series. It would probably be best if you've read the first two stories before this one.

Please bear in mind that the timeframe of this series in the early 1970's. There are some anachronisms here, and to judge the story by the standards of the 2010's would be, I think, unfair.

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Nine days! He'd been gone nine days already, and there were only eight months and 21 days to go.

Stephanie had been good, even though she didn't quite know why. Maybe she was waiting for the ship to make its way to the Philippine Islands so Glenn would have the first chance. Or perhaps it was because she harbored, deep within her soul, a shred of hope that she could go nine months without being unfaithful, that she could just put that part of her life behind her.

More likely, it was that she hadn't had a real opportunity to stray, not that she'd tried very hard. The first weekend Glenn was gone, she saw a movie with some of the navy wives, went to a "party" that her friend Joann threw. The cruises always started this way - the wives got together often, keeping an eye on each other - but then things happened, trips back home, work pressures, new acquaintances. Particularly new acquaintances. In the midst of it, she'd made a run over by Alameda beach, hoping to get together with Chuck, her college aged friend, but it was late in the afternoon and he wasn't anywhere around.

She'd thought about going down to Kelly's bar, but she hadn't been in the mood to have just any guy flirt with her. She was lonely for just one man, the one she loved, and she knew talking or dancing with another guy who just wanted to pick her up wasn't what she wanted. So, despite the loneliness of the apartment at night, she'd stayed home working on a jigsaw puzzle of a California mission.

And there she was, trying to find the piece with the pink flowers that had a strange shaped nib when the phone rang. She picked it up, and it was Chuck! "Hi, how are you?" she asked. "I was just thinking of you, wondering if you were ever going to call."

"I've tried a few times, but you weren't home, or it was busy."

"Well, what's going on?"

"Not much. School started this week. College classes are hard, they're a real bummer. How have you been?"

"Okay, I guess. A little bored. Work's the same."

"Well, listen, could I come over some time?" he asked.

"Sure. What are you doing tomorrow night?" She wanted to ask him over right now, but it was after 9:00, and she was afraid he'd have to leave quickly. It was a school night.

After she hung up, she dithered for a moment, then decided to draw a bath and get ready for bed. As she stroked her legs with the rusty razor, wondering why she was bothering, she reviewed the 'agreement' she had with Glenn. He'd insisted she didn't need to be faithful to him, that it was okay for her to see other guys, and in return she'd said he could go to bed with a prostitute in the Philippines. Then she started thinking about Chuck, and began looking forward to the next night, the opportunity to play games with him again, have his company. Knowing that she'd have a companion the next night, she dropped off to a dreamless sleep.

Mr. Donegal, her boss, came over to her keypunch machine the next day and asked, "Would you mind staying a little later tonight? We could use the help."

"Oh." She remembered her 'date' with Chuck, but also that she still owed the company some time to make up for Mr. Donegal's kindness just before Glenn shipped out. "Well, I've sort of got plans right after work, sir."

"Can you postpone them, Steph? We're really behind."

She considered the request, or was it an order? But she couldn't reach Chuck, and if she didn't show he'd be left standing there.

"What if I came in early tomorrow morning? Would that do?"

"Sure, we can make that work." Mr. Donegal was a darling, he always tried to make everyone happy. "Tell you what, can you be here at six?" She nodded. "And maybe, just a half hour later tonight?" Reluctantly, not seeing a way out, she agreed.

After work, she drove hurriedly to the rendezvous, hoping that Chuck hadn't thought she'd stood him up, was still waiting for her. Sure enough, he was sitting on the grass, his back to a palm tree, and he sauntered over to the car and hopped in. "Sorry I'm late, they made me work overtime."

"Don't sweat it. I'm hungry." They decided to stop at a Chinese takeout, and when Stephanie began to get her wallet out of her purse, Chuck stopped her. "Let me buy, okay?"

"No, you don't have to."

"Please, guys always buy dinner on dates, don't they?"

"Sure." He really was a nice guy, wasn't he?

They drove up to the apartment, and as Steph got the plates out, Chuck looked at the uncompleted jigsaw puzzle. "Been keeping yourself busy, huh? Need some help on it?"

For the next forty-five minutes, they sat on the floor, eating the sweet and sour chicken, and searched for pieces of the puzzle. Their hands would often meet as they hunted, and a few times their thighs would bump under the coffee table; neither thought much of the friendly touches. Finally, they were done with the repast, and Steph stepped over him to take the dishes to the sink. Playfully, she rubbed his thigh with a bare foot. While she cleaned the food up, Chuck continued to work on the puzzle. The phone rang, it was one of her navy wife friends, Joann.

"Hey, do you want to go to a movie tomorrow night?"

"Sure," Steph responded. They made plans to meet at the theatre.

There were only 60 pieces or so of the puzzle left, and it looked like they'd finish it in no time. Steph came back over to the table, and playfully sat on the floor in front of Chuck, so that he had to reach around her to complete the task. While he was using his eyes to search the remaining pieces, he easily rested his hand on Steph's shoulder. Fifteen minutes later, Chuck reached over her to place the final piece into its slot, and they clasped hands in congratulations.

She slumped back, resting her head against Chuck's shoulder, and sighed, "Boy, I'm tired, it's been a long week." He began to rub her temples, and she closed her eyes, enjoying the attention. After a few moments, he changed to stroking her neck, and then the bare skin below her throat, just above the first button of her blouse. For the first time, the caresses changed from simply friendly to exploratory. Stephanie considered getting up, bringing the titillation to a halt, but she was enjoying it too much; she let him continue. He fingered the edges of the fabric, tracing the border, and still Steph let him continue, her eyes closed, making no objection, but at the same time, not encouraging him either. When he slid the first button from the hole, she still failed to obstruct his progress, and he slid his hand under the cloth, feeling the sensitive skin where the shoulders met the breasts. Soon his fingers were attempting to reach to the bra, but the opening was still too small to allow him full access.

For the first time, Steph moved. It was a very simple gesture with a very clear meaning - she unbuttoned the second button, then placed her hands on his thighs. Chuck moved his hand under her blouse and stroked the skin that met the bra, then fingered the silky fabric. He was still constricted by the blouse, so he casually undid the rest of the buttons and slid the front open. When he went back to stroking her skin, languidly enjoying the sensation and the view over her shoulder to her cleavage, she remembered how little experience he'd had in the arts of romance. He seemed to be enjoying himself, gently cupping a breast, stroking her belly, sniffing her hair, occasionally making a foray into the waistband of her slacks. She allowed him the boon, relaxing, not moving, letting him caress her. Before long, he was nibbling an earlobe. She twisted her neck and they were kissing gently, brief meetings of the lips, touching their tongues together, tasting the sweetness. For long minutes they cautiously held their mouths together, and then the busses became rougher, deeper. For the first time his hand delved inside her bra, tweaking her nipple, exploring the smoothness of feminine skin.

Most of Stephanie's emotions were concerned with enjoying the attention, the petting, but another, separate part of her brain was considering the options. If she let this go any further, they'd be making love again. She was sure that's what he wanted, but did she? Did she need him in her bed again? Would it be cruel not to let him make love to her? What about his innocence, his youth? There was still her husband, did he really mean what he said about her needs, her desires? She was confused between the craving and the trespass.

She broke off the kisses, raised and strolled to the refrigerator. "Do you want anything, a coke?" she asked, opening the door and letting the light spill onto her body in the dusky light.

"Yeah, sure," he huskily replied.

Steph got the bottle out and closed the door. She poured the soft drink into a couple of glasses, considering all the while what she should do, balancing her objections against her desires. Walking back to the boy, she realized her body glowed in the remaining light from the picture window, the whiteness of her bra shining phosphorescently. His longing gaze, the memory of his body excited her, increased her lust. Her decision was suddenly uncomplicated.

She placed the glasses on the coffee table, letting him gaze inside the folds of her blouse, and then stripped it from her shoulders. Gracefully, she lowered her slacks, pulling them from her shins, and she stood in front of her lover. He gaped at her, the brightness of the bra and panties contrasting with the skin darkened by the fading light. "Do you want to go into the bedroom?" she offered. He took her hand and followed her into the darkness.

They could barely see each other. 'This', Stephanie decided, 'is how I want it to be.' She reached to Chuck, pulled the shirt off his arms, and unzipped his pants and made him sit on the side of the bed while she pulled his shoes, socks and then slacks off of him. She climbed onto the mattress and he joined her.

She curled into his arms, and they resumed. As he fumbled with the clasp of her bra, she kissed his eyelids, forehead and nose. When the fastener refused to give way to his inexperienced attempts, she reached behind her and performed the magic of unhooking it. He began to kiss the small of her throat, then further down, investigating the swell of her breast, lifting the heavy globe in his hand, pulling at the nipple.

She stroked his neck, then his back, and reached inside his underwear to take his erectness in her palm, petting it. After her initiative, he put his fingers on her panties above her pussy and applied friction, kneading her sensitive area with his knuckles. He wanted to excite her, please her, participate in the act of love.

Steph flipped to her back and pulled him on top of her. Their crotches met, protected from full contact by the twin cloths separating them, but he applied pressure, and mocked the movements of love. This was what she wanted, the excitement of the body's touching, but not locked, and she held his hips to her, reveling in the tension. It wasn't enough to bring her to orgasm, but it prepared her, and she pushed his head down to suckle on her nipples, twisted her groin so she could pull her panties off, and when she was naked, she pushed his head further down.

He wasn't sure what she wanted, still being a virgin in this respect, but he was inventive, and he'd read a few articles in dirty magazines, so he took a guess and started licking around the edges, tasting the moisture emanating from her innards, exploring the crevice. He tried, he really did, but without education and experience he had little chance of satisfying the woman. But she was aware of his dearth and stretched the lips wide, exposing the button she needed him to irritate. He began to explore the newly opened territory with finger and lip, once in awhile hitting the mark, more often missing it. Still she wanted it, so she placed a finger directly on the clit and said, "Right here, baby." Once he'd been given a road map, he followed it and licked her button while she responded with moans and slight pushes into his mouth.

'What would she do if I bit it?' he wondered, and so he experimented. The additional friction was what she needed, and it set her over the edge. Lightning struck the depths of her mind, and her throat growled like thunder. Over and over again the orgasm swept over her, through her. Slowly the vibrations receded, and still Chuck licked and nibbled her nubbin until it no longer excited her, but started to rub her the wrong way. She pulled an arm, and he laid on top of her. She reached down and pulled the elastic of his waistband down, as far as she could reach, then he took over and kicked off his briefs. They were both exposed to each other now, he between her legs, the rod of his manhood inches from her chasm, feeling the heat of their desire.

"Come on, sweetheart, nice and slow." She placed his tip just below her button and was gratified to feel him ease into her, slightly at first, just a hint of fullness between the legs, then a little more, sliding gently into her, just a bit at a time.

Chuck had been waiting for this moment for weeks, since the first time he'd been with her. Then it had been sudden, explosive, and he'd wondered, afterwards, just what it had been like. This time he wanted to make it last, experience the sensations, so he held himself above her and entered her slowly, feeling the heat of her womb surround him, letting himself go deeper and deeper until he finally seemed to be buried in her and his pelvis bone met hers. Still he pushed, trying to see if he could get further, and when he was sure he couldn't, he pulled out until he'd disengaged and began the process of entering her again. Five times he performed the maneuver, amazed at the way the bottom of his penis warmed each time he sunk in, reveling in the sensation of the tip hitting a yielding barrier at the end of the stroke.

The fifth time, instead of pulling out, he stayed within her, barely moving, and pressed himself upon her, concentrating first on the crush of her breasts under his chest, then on the sensation of the smooth legs surrounding his hips, how she kept her heels on the bedspread, listening to her breathing into his ear, and then, while his rod was deep within her orifice, he kissed her, placing his tongue deeply within her mouth, mimicking above what was proceeding below.

Stephanie wondered at his hesitation. Glenn never treated her this way, and certainly Jim, her only other lover, had been in such a hurry to bring himself off their one time together that she barely felt what was happening. She reveled in the gentleness of Chuck's approach, and when he kissed her she sucked his tongue, letting him feel the roof of her mouth. Together they concentrated on the locking of their bodies, above and below. They broke the kiss, possibly because they were running out of oxygen, and she heard him whisper, "God, this is so great!"

"Yes, baby, it sure is. Now, do me, slowly." As he began slow in and out movements, rolling a bit from left to right and then back with each stroke, she concentrated on the feeling of being alternately filled then emptied, and relished the ending of the movement, when he was as far inside of her as he could get. At that point, his pelvic bone pressed down on her clitoris, and stretched the skin around it, rubbing it. She made one small adjustment with her left foot, and the pressure became even greater, more enjoyable. She realized that she was going to come again, and she gave her secret away first by panting in her lovers ear, then by strongly tensing her vaginal muscles, and the rosy glow spread over her body and through her very existence.

Chuck realized he was exciting the woman with his movements, satisfying her, and concentrating on what was happening below him, within her, he felt his vibration begin in the lower extremities. He tried to will it back, to make it cease, but it was too strong for him; continuing to stroke first out then in, he felt the sperm explode strongly, flooding the woman and fogging his brain at the same time. He reveled in the rapture, spilling more into her with each succeeding push, sending strong shocks through his legs to his toes, until fifteen or twenty impulses later, only remnants seeped from him. Stephanie stopped moaning, laid still holding onto him, and he sank onto her. For minutes, they stayed there, kissing, hugging.

In unison, they rolled onto their sides. Chuck's penis was still firm enough to fill her, they managed to stay locked during the maneuver. She gently touched his neck, his hairless chest, kissed a nipple. He fondled her hair with one hand and a breast with the other. "Is that," he wondered out loud, "what it's all about?"

"Uh-huh, baby, that's it. God it was great for me, the best I've ever had."

"Really?" He was astounded. It had been so easy, so natural, and yet, somehow, it was better than the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Really!" she responded truthfully. For twenty minutes they continued to play with each other, their bodies linked, and Chuck began to respond again, the rigidity which had never really left returning to its previous iron-like state, and he began to push once more in and out of her.

"Oh, you're not done yet, are you?" she smiled. And she twisted until she was on top of him. This time, it was she who controlled the pace, and she was in no rush. Up and down she rode, back and forth, circling, pleasuring herself and him in the process. She fondled his face, his arms, behind her to the testicles just below her opening that he was filling. She sat straight up on him, then sank so that her tits were being excited by his skin with each push, back up with her feet on top of his shoulders, causing him to be as deep in her as he could possibly go, then back again to a kneeling position.

He could barely see her in the darkness, but he could smell her, and taste and feel her, and he took advantage of the situation, storing the memory of this night, one of the best of his life. A few times he thought he might orgasm again, but each time she shifted so that he receded from the precipice. When she began to breathe shallowly and then moan, he knew that she was satisfying herself again with his help, and when she was done he twisted her around until he was on top again, and this time he was so close that he rammed in and out of her, as hard as he could, until once again he spewed into her, less sperm than before, of course, but no less intensely.

This time, they broke from each other, lying sweating and panting, touching each other slightly, completely contented. At last, she broke the silence. "What time do you have to be home?"

"Ten. I've got an 8:30 class."

She picked up the alarm clock and peered at it in the near blackness. "It's nine forty-five. Whew, we've been going at it for more than two hours!"

"Is that a long time?"

"Yeah, sometimes you do it for just a few minutes. It's best, though, when you take your time, like we did tonight." She bent over and kissed him gratefully, and he responded by pinching a nipple, sending a bolt through her one more time. "Stop that," she teased, "or you'll never get home."

They dressed in the darkness, identifying the clothing by touch, playing with each other unashamedly. They held hands down the stairs and got into the car. On the drive, she took his hand and placed it between her legs, letting him feel her broiling pussy and she felt his semi-hard prick when she didn't need to shift.

As they drove to the drop-off point near his home, it was she that proposed the next meeting. "Tomorrow night? It's a Friday, we'll have even more time."