Changes

Many thanks to Jenna for first editing and improving this story. And grateful thanks to the erudite Ginger_Scent, who pointed out additional embarrassing mistakes and weak parts and helped make the story better. If you like quality erotica in both English and Italian, check out the stories by this writer/editor.

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"Don't stop now!"

"I'm sorry. I ran out of gas again."

Stella felt like screaming. She took deep breaths and tried to calm down. She had been on the verge of an orgasm when Mort had gone limp.

When she regained control, she spoke in even tones and tried not to sound hysterical.

"Have you seen your doctor yet?"

"I asked him about this when I had my physical a week ago. He says it's not unusual for a man of my age to get soft right after coming. He doesn't want me to take the blue pill unless I can't get an erection, and that's not the problem."

"Except for me."

"Does this happen with any of the other guys you date?"

"No, but it wouldn't matter if it did. You're different. We know each other so well that we've always been completely in tune -- until now."

Stella and Mort had married as teenagers, raised a son and daughter and divorced after eighteen years because of his philandering. The children had found out about his cheating when they were pre-teens, and she had to explain that she stayed with him because although he disrespected and humiliated her with his affairs, he was a good father and husband in every other way.

As soon as both children were off to college, she divorced him. It was an amicable divorce. They didn't see much of each other for a few years except for family events like weddings and christenings. When Stella went through menopause a few years earlier than normal, she once called him for comfort when she was feeling down.

He responded so enthusiastically that their relationship resumed and became stronger than when they had been married. He was her Mr. Reliable in every way, always thoughtful and always ready to come -- in both senses -- whenever she called him.

In return she gave him unprotected sex that he luxuriated in because he couldn't risk it with his girlfriends. She knew he was careful and not promiscuous, so she could trust him.

The relationship cooled off a little after she adjusted to the changes in her body and started dating again, but they still got together often. They might do something else first, like have dinner or see a movie, but they both knew the real purpose of their dates was mutually gratifying sex.

She was in good shape from exercising, and her skin was unblemished. She could pass for someone fifteen years younger and had no trouble attracting men. But none of them knew how to push all the right buttons to give her amazing orgasms.

After he left, she thought about their lovemaking that night. Everything had been perfect until that final fizzle that left her at her wits' end.

She thought about giving up sex with him, but then she would also have to give up all the special things he did that she loved. On the other hand, what was the point if he couldn't last until she came? She pondered it for a few days and came up with an idea that she shared with Mort on their next date.

"I thought about your problem," she said. "I have to accept that you can't always stay hard until I come anymore. But I love your patience and all the other things you do to me, and I don't want to give them up. It won't be the same, but how about bringing me off with your mouth if you come first and can't get it up again?"

He thought for a moment.

"I guess I could do that," he said. "I'd have to use a rubber."

"No! I love making love with you with nothing in the way. I can't do that with anyone else. Don't take that away from me. I know you love it, too."

"If I don't use a condom, you'd have to wash out thoroughly after I come. I have a better idea. We both enjoy it when I eat you out during foreplay. I could give you an orgasm at the start with my mouth, so you would have one for the night no matter what happened later."

"That's just like a man," she said. "It's an accountant's balance sheet. I get my orgasm and then you get yours, and we're even. But it doesn't work like that. Once we are making love, it doesn't matter what you did earlier. I'm into it, and you're into it, and that's what makes it special when you make me come. I still want to go for that. We would only go to Plan B when you can't last. It won't be as good, but at least your mouth will complete what your cock couldn't.

"I guess we could try it," he said. "But remember, you've got to be totally clean."

"You're really concerned about that, aren't you?" she said. "I admit it tastes terrible and smells horrible, but I let you come in my mouth sometimes, because I know you love it."

"I'm grateful when you do it for my birthday or surprise me. I can imagine how really disgusting it must be for you."

His insistence on her cleaning out his semen before he used his mouth on her made her think about what his reaction would be if she didn't do it. Would he gag or throw up? The question intrigued her.

Maybe that's why he got so excited about coming in her mouth when she gave him a blowjob. Her feelings of disgust might be part of his excitement.

She found herself thinking about this at odd times the next few days. She realized that she was dying to experience him eating her out after he came in her.

They usually talked about any sexual thoughts that came into their minds (even though they didn't' follow through on most of them) because it excited both of them. But she didn't share this new desire with him.

The next time he came too quickly and got soft, she went to the bathroom and washed herself out. By the time she got back to bed, she was no longer excited. Mort worked hard on her and eventually gave her an orgasm, but it felt like starting all over. Something was missing.

After the second time this happened, she realized this solution was not working for her. At the same time, the thought of him eating her out with his come inside her was driving her wild.

She convinced herself that it would be the perfect solution for their problem. She wouldn't have to break the mood by running to the bathroom. It wouldn't be any different than moving to a different position, something they often did. When he got soft, he could just continue with his mouth while she was still at the peak of her excitement.

How could she get him to do it?

She thought of a crazy, complicated plan that required a lot of effort. She doubted it would work, but decided to try it anyway, because she didn't want to think about giving up on sex with Mort.

Part one of the plan was for her to become an even better lover. She began reading books, watching videos and taking notes. Whenever she saw a magazine at the supermarket with an article on sex tips -- and this was at least once a week -- she bought it.

But she didn't only study. She did lab work, too. She was dating four men besides Mort, three of them occasionally and one, Ollie, regularly. She tried out some of the things she learned on them, noted their reactions and made adjustments.

Now that she was observing sex as well as doing it, she was surprised at how different each man was. What sent one into orbit could be a total turn-off for another. She learned so much about them, that it got to the point that when she tried something new, she could almost predict how they'd react.

Ollie and Mort were the most similar, and she began focusing on them to take their lovemaking sessions to a higher level. She could barely hide her delight one night when Ollie joked that she needed to take it easier on him or he was going to have a heart attack. She kept pushing the bar with him and even more with Mort.

One night at dinner, Mort asked, "What would you think about getting married again?"

She almost spit out her food.

"I think my wandering days are over," he continued. "I've stopped dating other women. For the last few months, I've only been with you. I don't even look twice at other women anymore. You know I've always loved you."

"I'm really flattered, Mort," she said. "And you know I've always loved you, too. It's funny, but for the last month, I've only been dating you and one other guy.

"I wouldn't mind keeping it that way, but it would be a mistake to live together again. After taking care of you and the kids all those years, I'm happy waking up and not having to worry about anyone else.

"If you want to talk about spending more time together, let me think about it."

That night she went all out, and even though he came too soon, she didn't complain. After she shut the door, she had a glass of wine while she thought about his proposal and smiled. Her plan was working.

She called him the next day at work and invited him over for dinner.

"There won't be anything afterwards," she said, "but I want to talk to you about what you said last night."

She cooked some of his favorite dishes and watched as he ate them with relish. After she poured him coffee, she broke the news.

"Mort, I'm glad you enjoyed this meal," she said, "because it's probably our last supper."

"What do you mean?" he said with a gasp. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, "but when you proposed, it made me finally realize that we can't go on this way."

"I don't understand. I thought things were great between us, and the sex has never been better."

"For you," she said, "but there's still your problem. And the solution isn't working. It's a big turn-off for me when I have clean up in the bathroom before you'll satisfy me. You don't care because you're already gratified. I don't want to do that anymore."

"I don't understand."

"I'll say it in plain words. If you can't finish with your cock, you have to finish with your mouth."

"But I do."

"I mean right away."

It took a second for him to understand. She knew he got it when his face turned green and his mouth dropped open. He didn't speak for a while, and when he did, his voice was subdued.

"I'm sorry, Stella. I can't do that."

"I thought you'd say that," she said. "When you proposed, it made me think that we're still like a married couple in many ways, especially in bed. And in marriage, there's give and take. Each person does things for the other, sometimes things they don't like.

"I would love a closer relationship with you, Mort, but your problem is preventing it, and I'm tired of being frustrated. If you can't do this for me, it's time for us to move on.

"That doesn't mean I'll stop loving you. You can always count on me for anything you need. Except sex."

She looked at him as she was talking. He was stunned. When she was finished, he didn't say anything. She waited a couple of minutes and then spoke again

"Say something, Mort."

"I don't know what to say."

She stood up and looked down at him. He looked up at her and then turned his head away.

After she stood there a minute watching him, she announced: "I've got an early day tomorrow."

Her voice made him start. He got up shakily. She went to him, embraced him and gave him a long kiss.

"Don't worry, Mort," she said as she broke the embrace and led him to the door like she was pulling a dog on a leash. She opened the door and pulled him through it and then went around him back inside and shut the door behind her. She hid at the side of the front window and watched him. He stood immobile for almost ten minutes before turning around and slowly walking to his car.

Two days later, he called her at her office. He didn't sound good.

"I've got to see you, Stella," he said. "There must be some way we can work this out."

"I'm sorry, Mort, but I've already said everything there is to say. There's only one way. Goodbye."

She smiled to herself and wondered how long it would take before he called again.

He held out for a week before he called her at home. After exchanging greetings, he asked her, "Is there anything --?"

She interrupted him.

"No, Mort. There is nothing you can do and nothing you can say. It's over and you need to move on."

"What if I said yes?"

"What does that mean?" she said, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. She waited while the phone was silent.

"Yes, I agree, if --"

She interrupted again.

"Sorry, Mort, no conditions. I'll listen to whatever you have to say, but I don't want there to be any misunderstanding. I explained to you what you need to do, and that's not going to change."

Silence again.

"All right."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"When can I see you?"

"It's too late tonight," she said, although it really wasn't. "How about tomorrow?"

After she hung up, she felt bad. She hadn't wanted to sound too eager, but it had been cruel of her to put off the possibility of his first taste of cream pie until tomorrow. He would probably have nightmares tonight.

At the same time, the thought of how his mind was probably torturing him was making her so hot that she wanted him desperately to drive to her house at once.

The next night, she saw the fright in Mort's eyes, and it excited her so much that she came in five minutes. She could almost taste his relief when he felt her orgasm. Even though he was hard, he told her he wasn't feeling well and didn't want to go on. He left in a hurry.

She thought about what happened and decided that a repeat would be like torturing him. She needed to take control next time.

When they were in bed a few days later, Mort was still scared. She focused on using all the techniques she had learned that made him come fast and got him off in less than five minutes. She didn't say anything as she felt him softening inside her. She just waited and didn't look at him.

He was in the missionary position, and after a few minutes, he began moving down her body slowly. She heard some choking sounds and felt his body trembling. Then came the sound she had been expecting. She reached under the bed and pulled out the large plastic bucket she had put there and guided him to it. She held his head as he spewed into it and then suggested he wash up in the bathroom.

When he came back, she was lying back against some pillows with her legs spread wide. She waited again. He stood looking at her a few minutes before he got on the bed and moved between her legs.

It was ugly. She spoke softly to him through it all, encouraging him when he had to lift his head to keep from gagging and passing out. He was sweating gallons and his eyes were wild.

It didn't keep her from getting excited as she felt his tongue enter her. She had no idea how much come he had deposited in her, but she imagined a flood of thick white sperm seeping out of her and onto his tongue and then flowing into his mouth and down his throat.

It didn't take her long to come, and as soon as he felt her body shaking he lifted his head, jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. She could hear him retching through the closed door even though he ran the faucet.

He got better with practice, but he always gagged at least once, although he rarely threw up. Afterward, he tried to act his usual cheerful self, but she could tell that he was completely mortified and repulsed by what he had just done.

She began to notice something in herself. As good as her orgasms were when Mort made her come first or they came together, they were even better when her vagina was full of his come and he was eating her out.

Many nights, she consciously held back her orgasm until he came first. She thought about using her techniques to make him come faster, but she didn't want to cheat him out of his pleasure before he submitted to her humiliation.

She wondered about her feelings for him. She loved him more now than she could ever remember, more even than when they were married. They had been wild about each other, but it was a shallow, frenzied love. Now she knew his shortcomings and weaknesses and had forgiven them all to forge a deep connection. Though marriage wasn't in the cards, she was sure they were soulmates until death.

She felt the same about sex with him. It was more satisfying than ever, but her mind struggled with the fact that demeaning and repulsing him until he was nearly sick with revulsion was what gave her those special, powerful orgasms.

Once it occurred to her that maybe, subconsciously, she was paying him back for all the times he had humiliated her before the divorce. But she had forgiven him long ago and never thought of those days.

How could she love him and love to torture him at the same time? In the end, she couldn't reconcile the two opposites, and she gave up trying. All she knew for sure is that both of them were true.

She kept the same position as the first night for a while until she felt he was used to it, and then she begin trying others. The first time she got on top of him in a sixty-nine position after he had come inside her, he freaked out, pushed her off of him, jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. She was patient. After a few more false starts, she finally got him to do it.

Her favorite position was when she was riding him and he came inside her. She just crawled forward onto his mouth. This way she could look straight down and see the come oozing from her vagina onto his tongue and watch the disgust and shame in his eyes. It excited her so much that she told her girlfriends she wished she could clone herself so she could watch him in the other positions.

She related all of the drama and the excitement to her friends when they got together. They were as excited listening to her stories as she was telling them and insisted on taking her to lunch every Saturday to hear what had happened during the week.

She told them about how she was also using her methods on Ollie, but Mort was the one they really wanted to hear about. They pressed her for every detail about how it felt, how it looked and how it sounded.

At one Saturday lunch they were talking about what a shame it was that Stella couldn't see what Mort was doing when he was lying between her legs or when she was on top of him in the sixty-nine position. One of them suggested she make a video of those positions. They all looked at each other and began laughing at how crazy that idea was.

But when they got together the following week, it turned out each of them had been thinking of the video and had ideas about making it happen. After weeks of discussion, they came up with a plan that involved the girlfriends taking a class in videography and then splitting costs on renting cameras and equipment so they could shoot the video themselves. They would find a way to hide so that Mort wouldn't know anything about it, and a few days later, they would have a video for the four of them to enjoy.

From then on the lunches were split between Stella's sexual exploits with Mort and Ollie and what her friends were learning about things like composition, lighting, camera angles, close-ups and slo-mo and how they would use their new expertise on the big day.

Mort knew about Stella's weekly lunches and how she and her friends all shared every intimate detail of their lives. He said he had never talked to any of his male friends about their sex life. She told him women were different from men that way and assured him he needn't be concerned about it. It was just a part of her life: not as important as being with him, but still necessary.

Her friends completed their course, and their discussions now shifted to the logistics of the video session, especially how they could pull it off without Mort finding out.

After a few weeks of strategizing, Stella announced, "I'm sorry, girls. I can't do this behind his back. Even if we could come up with a plan that would work, it would be such a betrayal of our relationship that I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye again. He might never know, but I would, and I would hate myself for the rest of my life, especially when I was watching the video. If I couldn't enjoy the video, what's the point?"