Friends for Dinner

"That was... amazing. Thank you so much." She patted my bottom. "I owe you big time."

I hadn't cum, despite stroking my cock for Roz, who peered over her shoulder to watch me or to mutter "So hot" at our reflection in the mirror behind the desk. I just ate her until she came hard, one knee cocked on the desktop, wrenching yelps right from her soul.

When we arrived in the kitchen, Kate was the picture of Sunday morning serenity. Her cheeks were as bright as Roz's. Perhaps that's why neither commented on it. They kissed, and Kate explained Jake had gone out for a 10k with his personal trainer. "Handsome chap, isn't he? Sexy," she said.

So now even a random musclehead got more approval than I did. Fucking great. And this was after Kate had fingered herself for some other lucky lover. I used to justify my wife's lack of sexual interest by considering her one of those people focused on higher things. But she was dirtier than any of us, just not with me.

"Another 10K? Weird," Roz said. "They did that yesterday."

Perhaps it was my fault that the brunch was over and done in half an hour. I couldn't open my mouth in case I screamed. Or worse, boasted. Kate kept throwing me this stiff smile, less "What's up?" than: "What's your problem?"

Meanwhile, Roz wedged her toes into my still-hard crotch with a look on her like she'd eaten all the candy.

#

Walking the twenty-minute journey home, I lurched between rage and guilt. My phone burned in my pocket. This was partly because of the incendiary video of Kate on it but also because I expected it to vibrate any second with a message from Roz. When we'd hugged goodbye, she'd whispered, "I'll sext."

Kate took my hand and swung it as we walked. I twisted free. Her gesture had a post-coital languor to it that made me feel sick. She thumped my arm. "Look. I'm sorry I didn't want sex this morning, OK? How long are you going to sulk?"

I took out my phone and played the video of her right there in the middle of the street.

She watched, hand to mouth, then pushed the phone away. "Not here, for fucksake!"

"Now you're worried about being seen? Were you just too excited to care earlier?"

I expected her to stride off. Or punch me. I didn't expect her to ram her head into my chest and burst into tears. "My love, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." She threw her arms around me and gripped me so tight my back cricked.

Some lads outside a pub across the road jeered. One shouted louder than the rest, "Give 'er one for me, mate!"

I took her home.

#

"I don't know how to say this." We sat side-by-side on the sofa, twisted toward each other knee-to-knee. She had my hand clasped in her lap as if I might bolt. "I still love you. And our marriage. I love us."

"But?"

"But I have these... needs."

I oofed as if she'd punched me. She kissed my hand. "No, it's not your fault. It's not you. You are so supportive and loving. It's me. I-- I've found myself more and more..." She inhaled, held it, and burst, "I'm attracted to women."

My head reeled. But how could that not be about me? My fundamental, biological inadequacy. I was the man that drove her to women.

She gripped me harder. "I've always liked women as much as men, and I thought I'd grown out of it when I fell for you, but being married has created this... this craving."

I thought of her cupping her sex when I tried to go down on her. How that stung. I thought of my desperate need to lick her all the time. I never used to be so obsessed with oral sex. I only got this way when I married Kate because she rarely came when I fucked her. I think I always knew, deep down, she wanted a woman. I even fantasised about it once or twice. Is that why now, knowing she'd sexted a woman today, not a man, her betrayal seemed diluted? Darkly arousing even. Only then did I think to ask, "Who?"

"Stephanie. My P.A.."

Stephanie. Petite, very pretty, like Audrey Tautou. I snorted. She was French. "So that's why you work late?"

"No, that's just work. But sometimes she--"

I held up my hand and turned away. "I don't want to know--no. I do. What does she do?"

"Don't be like that."

"Do you love her?"

"No. I love you. It's just--"

"Just sex."

She nodded at our hands. A tear dropped on them. She sniffed.

"I offer you sex all the time. If you love me, then why is it better with her? What does she do that I don't?"

Kate punched her thigh. "I don't know! It's just... woman to woman is smooth and slow and sensual and--"

"I'd love all that! Just tell me how to change. I'll do anything. Tell me what you need."

"I need women!" she squeaked, then shut her eyes. She blew out a long breath. "I know you'd do anything for me. That's why I want us to stay together. It's just... sex with girls... it satisfies me in a way I can't explain. That's what I need right now. Who can say why we need what we need? I like women. You like... your cum swallowed. Could you explain why you need that?"

I jumped up, fists balled. But I couldn't deny it, at least not in my pumped-up state after that morning. "OK. Then I'll take the same attitude about your 'girl fetish' that you take about my 'cum fetish', shall I?"

She blinked wetly at me. "I don't understand."

"You told me you'd never swallow me, and I should deal with it. So you can't see this woman again, any woman. You can make the same sacrifice I do for our marriage. Deny your need."

"You're serious."

"Fucking serious."

She folded her arms. "I'd understand you not wanting me to see other people. That's natural. We're married. But are you really implying it's such a big deal for you that I've never sucked you off; you'd let me take a lover if I did? You'd trade adultery for the perfect blowjob?"

"That's not what I said."

"You're equating my bisexuality with your cum fetish."

"It's not a fucking fetish! It's about being accepted intimately and ultimately by my wife. It's about feeling completely desired. It's about feeling loved. And what do you mean by 'adultery'? You said you didn't love her. It's just sex, right?"'

She tucked in her chin to bury a smile. "Epic sex."

"Thanks for that. Well, my need to be swallowed isn't just about sex or epic sex. It's about that one small effort you never made, to even try, just to show me that you love me. When I try every fucking day to make you happy and meet your needs. But no. Instead, you take them to someone else."

I got a flash of Roz then, reaching behind her, spreading her bum cheeks and labia so I could cow lick her entire cleft from anus to clit. I turned away from Kate in case she saw it beaming from my eyes.

Fucksake, though, did I just say if you loved me, you'd swallow my cum? Classy. I forced myself to take a breath. I expected her to throw something at me and then throw me out. But she stood behind me and stroked my arm.

"I don't want to lose you," I said.

"I don't want to lose you." Arms snaked around my middle. "What do we do?"

"Will you stop seeing her?"

"I... could."

"Will you?"

"Or there's another way."

"I don't want a threesome. I love you too much to--"

Kate sniggered. What was that all about? The last time I heard a chuckle like that, we were on holiday, and she dragged me into the shower. She turned me to face her. Her eyes burned. With hope, with relief, and something else. I almost didn't recognise it at first: desire.

She dropped to her knees.

I covered myself. "You're joking."

"I've never tried swallowing you. You're right." She bit her lip, unfastened my jeans, and unzipped my fly. My heart crashed against my ribcage, from anger or excitement, I couldn't tell. She yanked my clothing down and gathered my soft cock in her mouth. I couldn't remember the last time I felt that tender enveloping heat. I was rigid in one suck.

"And if you do this, I'm supposed to let you fuck your P.A.?"

She clasped me in two hands and kissed under my head. "This one is to say sorry. But who knows? If I like it, maybe we could sort something out and both get what we need." She dropped her head over me. My doubts fled.

I didn't know my wife could suck like this, and honestly, it seemed neither did she. She pulled me into her mouth and slid her head up and down as if testing and relishing the feeling of me against her palette for the first time. She played with me, experimented, explored.

"Fuck you've got a lovely dick." She rubbed me briskly under a fascinated gaze. A power-mad cackle overtook me. I felt like a king. She blinked up at me, covering my length in a flurry of kisses. "I'd forgotten how sexy this is. Why don't we do it all the time? Hmm." She sank back over me.

My knee wobbled, and she giggled on my cock, a delightful sensation that triggered my avalanche. I gripped the mantelpiece.

She groaned as if my arousal was hers and sucked me onto my toes, working her fist and mouth together insistently.

A tiny whisper of doubt--oddly with Roz's face on it--pointed out that it was in Kate's best interest to appear to enjoy this. But Kate let out a languorous moan that sounded like absolute pleasure and set an uncontainable, rolling explosion coursing through my body.

"I'm cumming," I blurted. She shuffled on her knees, braced, sucked on. I clenched. "I'm cumming!"

"Mm!" She rubbed faster. "Mm!"

I roared through clenched teeth, juddered, and burst ten years of repressed need into my wife's mouth.

She went still. Her eyes shut. Her tongue slid under my frantically pumping head, and she gasped nasally with each swallow. My brain turned somersaults. It was happening, really happening. My sweet, beautiful wife was placidly sucking the jets right out of me, taking them into her. I swore, staggered, and she followed, limpetted to me, gripping my buttocks as if I was trying to escape. I collapsed into an armchair, and she stayed locked to me, her eyes open now, reading my face curiously. That's when I realised my cheeks were wet.

I might have blacked out or something. Time melted. Kate sucked on, soothing me now and apparently unwilling to stop. Finally, her sucking turned to licking, then to kisses.

"Well." She squeezed a pearl to my head and lapped it off. "Is that it?"

I felt weirdly judged. "I gave it my best shot."

She chuckled, smacked her lips and shrugged. "Honestly, babe, you taste like a girl. A bit thicker, maybe. What's the big deal?"

I shrugged. She tugged on me hard, eked out one last drop and collected it on a flat tongue. "Fucking sexy making you lose your mind, though." She made a play of gulping. "It's got me needy." She wiggled her hips. "Very needy."

I made her stand with a flick of my finger. Even that took all my strength. She stood between my knees, and I reached up her skirt and slid her knickers to her ankles. She gathered her hem to her waist, and I gripped her hips and buried my face in her florid cunt. In truth, I totally didn't feel like doing this. I'd had a lifetime's worth of "epic" sex today. But I was lost in love and gratitude for my wife. She'd made mistakes, but so had I. We were only human.

Her slot was exquisitely slippery. She couldn't fake that. She'd really enjoyed sucking me. No. Swallowing me. I tried to return the favour with all the patience and skill I could, with all my knowledge of her body from 10 years of marriage. She stroked my head, sighed croakily, and gently rocked her hips at my mouth. "I really fucking love you," she murmured. Then shuddered as if the realisation, said out loud, was an enchantment for her climax.

I manoeuvred her into my seat, looped her legs over the chair arms and got busy between.

Being emptied of the urge to cum meant I could concentrate on Kate and the ebb and flow of her orgasm. With fingers and tongue, I worked to the edge over and over until she was clawing my head and begging to cum. Yes, I wanted to be better than her bit on the side, better than any woman. And yes, I wanted her to question what someone else might give her that her husband couldn't, but I also wanted to give my wife the same earth-shattering pleasure she'd given me.

So when I finally let her cum--sucking her clit while I curled two "come here" fingers inside her-- I took great pride in the tears trickling down her cheeks.

She hauled me to her face to kiss, and we sobbed together, tasting ourselves in each other, and held tight against the world. I didn't know such joy could exist. Until we realised her orgasm had got me raging hard again, and I slid so deep into her we became one thing.

In my jeans pocket, my phone vibrated a message. Kate's eyes flicked open, alarmed, but drooped shut again as I ploughed.

I shut my eyes too, and we fucked like the world depended on it.

#

Kate and I spent the rest of the day in each other's arms, lost in dreamy silence. We drifted from a two-hour bath to sunbathing in the garden to another shower to cooking together, kissing, cuddling and giving each other cheeky pats and winks. After our -- dare I say epic -- fuck, we were deliciously spent. This was the first day of our honeymoon all over again. Not symbolically, either. We'd rebuilt our relationship from the sex up and were happily remarried. Kate said she felt like she'd woken from a nightmare where we didn't speak and, worse, resented each other for needing things we were too frightened to give. She said her confession had taken the weight of the world off her, and my acceptance made her feel brand new and hopeful. "And horny." She patted my arse--I don't think she'd ever done that.

I was drunk all day on how good our sex had been, but I wasn't sure I 100% accepted her need for women, not yet, anyway. However, I liked the idea that if I learned to accept it, Kate might always be as happy as this. It made my head boggle to think that to keep her this close to me, I'd have to slightly let her go.

She didn't mention Stephanie, anyway. When her phone pinged, she switched it off. I switched mine off too, but not before I clocked a message from Roz: "11am tomorrow. I'm going to come and treat you. Or treat you and come. One of those."

Kate must've seen me smile at my screen. "Good news?"

"Roz said she's going to come round and practise some new therapeutic thing on me tomorrow."

"Is she now? Careful, that woman fancies you, I think."

"We could have a foursome sometime then. You and Stephanie and me and Roz" It was too soon to make that kind of joke. I don't know why I said it.

But Kate's eyes lit up. I laughed, then she looked away, laughing politely with me.

We went to bed early, and fell asleep in each other's arms.

#

I dreamt of standing naked in a sea of blood-warm syrup. Eddies curled around my cock, hardening it, and I woke to find Kate's wild locks bobbing at my hips, sucking me. Again? At first, I didn't move for fear of ruining the moment. She worked silently, intently, her body glowing in the moonlight. But as I got closer to cumming I couldn't resist stroking her, ready to pull her to my face and kiss her. All over, preferably. She tipped a sparkling gaze up at me.

"Sorry," she said hollowly, licking my shaft from balls to tip. "I woke up paranoid that yesterday was just a dream." Lick. "I needed to check." Kiss. "That I really do love your cum."

I tried to sit up, grab her hips, and do my own checking. She pushed me back down. "Go back to sleep. I won't be long."

She wasn't. Even after yesterday's draining, she quickly emptied me again. She was still suckling on me as I sank back into euphoric sleep.

I awoke to birdsong, and the dawn gilding stripes across my wife's sleeping naked body. She was using my thigh as her pillow. Out of habit, my stomach twisted at the sight of her, ready for the struggle of needing to make her cum, but expecting rejection. Then I recalled my last moments before falling back to sleep, moments of Kate's absolute delight in me, and my heart overflowed.

I sat up, regarding her in the pale light. She was lying on her side, facing away from me, prone. I could wake her as she woke me; start today as idyllically as yesterday's ended. I manoeuvred my head down to her hips, careful not to disturb her on my thigh, resulting in a kind of sleepy, spoony sixty-nine. Her cunt was sweetly puckered by her position, and I kissed her lips once or twice, then gently licked into her groove.

She croaked sleepily. I licked deeper, and she rocked her hips. My head spun at the first taste of her arousal. "Hmm..." she sang and swung her knee up, opening to me like a flower. I dabbed my tongue on her clitoris. She hummed, and eyes still closed, whispered, "F-fuck yes. Stephanie, Je T'aime, Je T'aime..."

Then she slipped back into her dream of someone else.

MOANY COFFEE MORNING

"... I mean, Kate told me she didn't love her P.A., that it was just sex, but she said this thing twice. Je T'aime. She loves her." I sulked over my Americano. "How can I trust her to be with women if she's going to fall for them?"

I don't think this was quite what Roz had in mind when she came around. Earlier, she'd skipped into our house, beaming fit to burst and rutted my thigh when we hugged. "OK," she'd announced. "Lick me first, then shag me, then, lucky boy, I'm going to give you the sucking of your life. Oh, and I've got another sexy vid I want to show you. This woman cums squatting on her man's mouth and then on his cock. So hot. We'll watch that first so you know what I want. Where shall we do it?"

I took her to the kitchen to sit and listen to me moan. That was twenty minutes ago.

"You're overthinking it." She toyed with her iPad, called up the video, bit her lip then turned the machine off. "It's typical for victim thinkers to look for the negative in the positive. I'm so glad you and Kate properly found each other. You should focus on that. Gratitude. Don't let this drag you back to negative behaviour with her."

I nodded at her wise words, Then ignored them. "But Kate's with Stephanie now. Do you think they're having sex? I mean, right now?"

"Not unless they want to surprise the other customers in Starbucks. I just saw them there, getting ready for a presentation."

"Did they seem close?"

Roz clipped me across the ear. "Stop this. No, they didn't. They were working. Listen, Kate's been honest and very sweet with you. I believe that she's sexually attracted to women, that's all. She clearly loves you. I mean, look what she did for you! Twice!"

That was good. Why couldn't I just take the win? Why did I have to keep picking at it? I considered just shutting the fuck up and giving Roz what she came for.

One more moany question: "You've known her since college, has she always been into girls?"

She blinked at me as if weighing up whether to confide in me, then grinned at her joggling foot. "Yes. Kate's always been... open-minded." She chewed her cheek. "It's how we met."

My world used to run a straight and predictable course, and everybody around me seemed straight and predictable. How did it all go so fucking loopy? "You and Kate were lovers?"

Roz laughed. "Not lovers, dickhead. We hooked up. Then we became friends. You really need to learn the difference between love and sex."

Had I been asleep all these years? Why had I never sensed this? Being that close must've reflected in their behaviour. Come to think of it, they'd always been super touchy-feely with one another.

Roz toyed with her six-sugared latte, clearly trying to hide how much she enjoyed the effect of her bombshell on me. She was bare-legged in flip-flops and another floaty skirt paired with a tight vest top. She really did have the most bouncy-looking body. Her knees and elbows looked boneless, and her vest stretched taut between her breasts.

"Oh, now you're interested." She tugged the vest looser at her belly." I am wearing knickers today, for your information. And to save you the embarrassment of asking, Kate and I got together on the beach. We went halves on a pair of sun loungers and got talking because I was reading Anne Marie Villefranche, an erotic author from the Nineteen-twenties. I let her read one of the stories while I had a doze, and she got all worked up. It was about a lesbian couple. Her horn turned me on, and we had to go to one of those changing huts and sort each other out."