Grant & Sandy Pt. 02

"Have you ever wanted to do that to me?" I could see her thighs press together and her hips rotate ever so slightly as she asked.

"Uh..." What the hell do I say? "Only every single day since I've known you, babe?" I'm sure that will go over well at the divorce hearing. "It would be...interesting. Maybe a bit wild to try?" I answered slowly, puzzled but growing gradually hard with this line of discussion.

She switched gears yet again, instantly shedding any 'come hither' vibe I'd been imagining as she cocked her head and asked with obviously genuine curiosity "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was never a big deal. I mean, I'm sure there's stuff you've thought of trying that you haven't told me, right?" But my mind involuntarily chased that rabbit for a moment: why hadn't I told her?

Sandy rose from the couch and recaptured my undivided attention as she stood in front of me, looking down as though I was some sort of problem for her to solve. I watched her relax slightly a few beats later as she came to some sort of conclusion. I'd known her long enough to recognize the process. I just had no idea what decision she'd been presented with, nor what course of action she'd chosen. In some ways, the love of my life was completely transparent to me, and in others, completely opaque.

Her index finger stirred slowly in the remnants of her wine before she brought it to her lips to suck a drop of alcohol from her manicured nail and delicate fingertip into her pink mouth.

"I've had a long, stressful day," my wife said very deliberately. "I have a lot of tension in my body right now. I'm going to get ready for bed." She tossed back the last mouthful of wine and put her empty glass on the coffee table. She looked at me a moment longer, then turned and walked out of the room. I heard her feet pad up the staircase.

I sat dumbfounded for a moment. What the hell just happened? I leaned forward and put my wine glass down beside my wife's, then rubbed my face hard with both hands as I tried to make sense of what was going on. I quickly sat back, as the tire iron tenting the front of my pants was physically uncomfortable in the other position.

Tired. Tense. Going to bed. I moved her words around in my mind like Scrabble tiles, rearranging them and looking for the best solution. Backrub? Yeah, that makes the most sense. I glanced down into my lap and was reminded of the novelty newborn onesie we'd spotted at the mall the other day that said 'All mommy wanted was a backrub.' We'd both shared a look and a chuckle at that, fingers crossed that the kids didn't ask what it meant. I'm not going to be able to give her a massage without jumping her bones if I don't deal with THIS first. The blinds were closed, the kids were in bed, and I knew there was a small cube of Kleenex in the drawer under the coffee-table; I could rub a quick one out here, and then head upstairs relieved and ready to attend to her.

My hands moved to the front of my slacks, and unzipped them. I had to shift in my seat to unbuckle my belt and undo my pants, then untuck and unbutton my shirt to leave my belly and chest bare. No point in creating questions at the dry-cleaners. I leaned back and closed my eyes as I pushed the front of my boxers down and grasped myself firmly. Our conversation already had me halfway there - this wasn't going to take long. My mind flew back to our drive home Friday night, and the look of lust on Sandy's face before she turned to face my crotch as I drove. Fuck, that was amazing. My hand started to pump faster at the memory. I can't believe she fingered herself as she was blowing me. I've never seen her do that before. Now my fist was flying up and down my shaft. Suddenly Dani's face was what I saw, looking out her passenger window, wild and disheveled, her man's fresh load coating her lips and tongue and chin as she looked hungrily into my eyes. I groaned, and my hips lifted off the couch.

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and my eyes flew open instantly, my posture curling inwards and my hands moving instinctively to cover my throbbing nakedness in panic. It took a moment for my mind to register Sandy's form, standing in the living room entrance, as the source of my surprise. She was wearing one of my old t-shirts, with a Rebel Alliance logo on the front. I felt an involuntary surge of lust again. Her hard nipples were obvious under the thin cotton, which barely reached the top of her thighs. Her hand was at her mouth, and her eyes were wide. In that moment, I'm not sure which of us looked more shocked.

"Holy crap, babe. You startled me," I began.

But Sandy was talking over top of me. "What are you doing?" she blurted.

My embarrassment came out in a flash of anger. "What does it look like?"

She recoiled as though she'd been slapped. "No," she shook her head quickly, a hurt look on her face. "I mean, why didn't you come up and do that with me?" Tears were now welling in her eyes.

Wait...what?

I stood up, my anger turning instantly to shame, fumbling to keep my pants up as I moved towards her, speaking quickly. "Hon, you said you were tired and stressed, so I was going to come up and give you a backrub. But I was really horny after our talk about Friday night, and I didn't want you to think the backrub was just a way to get my hands on you." I grabbed her shoulders. "Y'know...'all mommy wanted was a backrub'?" I finished with a sheepish shrug.

Sandy had been holding her breath, and now it came out in a rushed giggle. She brought her hands up to her face to brush tears that were no longer relevant from her cheeks.

"Oh my god, you idiot," she said with no sting in her voice, and pulled me into a tight hug. I held her, happy, but thoroughly confused. She pushed me back to arm's length and looked at me seriously. "I wanted you to come up and screw me, not rub my back. Sex relieves tension too, you know." She laughed, more prettily than a moment before.

Wait...wait, WHAT?

Suddenly I felt a pair of hands down the front of my boxers. "You didn't finish before I came down, did you?" Sandy asked, her desire clear in her voice.

My cock jumped in her grasp. "No, but I was almost there when I heard you," I replied as I reached up to cup her head in my hand. I pulled her into a hard kiss, my tongue pushing into her mouth as soon as our lips touched. She responded instantly, urgent with a need that echoed my own. My dick was back to full hardness in very short order.

Sandy's hands moved up to my chest, and she pushed me back in the doorway and gave me a hungry look, panting, breathless. "Where do you want to do this?" she asked me.

I glanced around the darkened hallway at the bottom of the staircase, and back into the dimly lit living room. My mind registered the leather couch as the closest option, and I reached down to grab Sandy by the hips and lift her over to it. She yelped, wrapping her arms around my neck, and a moment later, her legs around my waist as I tried not to stumble in my half-removed clothes. I felt the heat and fur of her crotch pressed against my bare stomach. She's not wearing a damned thing under that shirt! My hands shifted unconsciously to support under her bare ass just before I sidestepped the coffee table and bent to lower her still clinging body to the couch. She released me and lay back with a challenging open-mouthed smile as I straightened and pulled off my open shirt. She stretched both arms above her head, causing her shirt - MY shirt - to ride up and expose her bush as her thighs fell slightly open. She looked like a wet dream.

I barely had the presence of mind to pull off my socks before removing my pants and boxers. I'd been told years ago - by a girl I hooked up with in my first semester of university, before I even met Sandy - that no matter how sexy the guy, wearing nothing but socks was a ridiculous, embarrassing look on a man. A mood-killer, in fact. I'd tried to follow that advice whenever I stripped off in front of my wife. As I disrobed, my eyes were drawn back to my smouldering wife's creamy white thighs and the treasure at their juncture. Sandy's pussy was delicately formed and perfectly pink, even after two children. But other than trimming it in neatly at the sides to maintain a clean bikini line, she kept it fairly well covered with her natural dark blonde fur. I ached to taste her, get her wet, and then push my cock into her tight, silky slot.

The coffee table was in my way, so I pushed it roughly away with my leg. Too roughly, I realized when the empty wine bottle and glasses teetered and threatened to fall. A lunging grasp saved the situation, and Sandy laughed at me. I growled playfully as I dropped to my knees and manipulated her so her lithe, muscular legs bracketed my head. She arched her back in a stretch, then used my shoulders as leverage to shift her hips into a more comfortable position as she lay back, waiting for my mouth. I reached my left hand around my lover's thigh, high up by her hip, and drew her tight to my cheek on that side, so her fur was almost brushing my lips. Then I reached my right hand up close to my mouth, and used my first two fingers to open the curtains and spread her pink lips. She hadn't had time to get really wet on her own, but her hole glistened as I stretched it open and held it that way.

Her scent hit me like a drug. Something about the smell of her sex was almost overpowering to me. Over the years, I'd noticed both her aroma and flavour changed with the phases of her cycle, but all of her variations were intoxicating to me. I came to the conclusion that while love might be a mix of the intellectual and emotional, lust was very much chemical.

I leaned in and nuzzled my wife's mound above the open slit with my nose, letting my warm breath wash over her spread sex. Sandy's hips writhed gently in anticipation. I lowered my attention, extending my tongue, and slowly drawing the wet tip up one exposed side of her labia in a long, sensuous lick. I felt muscles deep in the floor of her pelvis contract under the pressure of my fingers as she responded to my intimate action. I loved eating my wife's pussy. Before we had kids, when our time was more our own, I used to do it for as long as she could stand it, until she begged me to stop and squirmed out of my grasp. We never have time for that anymore. The thought flashed briefly across my mind, leaving a hint of momentary guilt. My lust quickly buried the feeling as I redoubled my efforts and my focus. Tonight wasn't about long, slow oral pleasuring. Sandy wanted to get well and truly laid, and this prelude was just intended to ready her for me.

My flat tongue left a thick trail of saliva up the middle of her slit as I gave her a series of broad licks from bottom to top. Then I mashed my mouth against her, my nose buried in her damp pubic hair, and moved my right arm up to mirror the left, squeezing both thighs to my head and running my hands up over her hips to her smooth, flat tummy. I raised my eyes and paused for a moment. Her head was pushed back on one of the throw pillows, neck extended, eyes closed. Then somehow she felt my gaze, and opened her eyes to meet it. I began to suck wetly on her clit, eyes still locked with hers. Her jaw dropped further open, and her hips moved urgently under my mouth. My tongue moved faster, unrelenting, and Sandy's eyes clenched shut again as her head slammed back into the pillow and a strained moan escaped her lips.

Now.

I released her clit from the suction of my lips with a wet pop and stood quickly, displacing her legs from my shoulders. Her eyes snapped open in frustrated confusion, and she saw me standing above her, my throbbing hard-on jutting out aggressively from the reddish thatch at my crotch. I knelt between her splayed legs, then lowered my torso until my chest was pressed against her. I needed to kiss her mouth, and she let me, although I could sense her hesitate to taste the juices still smeared on my lips and chin. That reluctance was gone in a flash of heat as we necked frantically, and my erection poked at her soaked opening below.

My lover's hands fumbled blindly between us as our tongues danced in each others' mouths, and she guided my stiff dick into her slick hole as I thrust my hips forward in one long easy push. We both made aching noises deep in our throats, our lips still mashed together as I pulled out and thrust back into her. I was just starting to build my rhythm when Sandy clenched beneath me, ambushed by a fast, hard orgasm that seemed to surprise her as much as it did me. Her head strained backwards into the pillow beneath it, her delicate neck exposed and her blonde hair swirling in waves around her beautifully contorted face. I watched her as we rode the waves of her climax together. Finally, her eyelids peeled back open, and glazed blue eyes gradually focused again on my face.

"Welcome back," I said with a warm grin as I continued to move gently inside my amazing partner.

Her reply began inarticulately, but finished with burnished clarity. "Mmmmm. Mmm. That. Was. Amazing." My heart soared with pride and love. And then my groin reminded me that pride and love weren't all I needed right now.

"Yes, you ARE amazing," I replied, picking up my tempo again.

Her lip curled into a sexy snarl of encouragement. "Oh yeah, baby, give it to me like that." I did.

"Fuck, you're going to make me cum," I warned her a minute later.

Suddenly she twisted hard beneath me, uncoupling us unexpectedly, and tipping me on to the floor. What the hell?

Still on the couch, she lay back down on her side and pushed her hair behind her. There was no sign of sympathy on her face as she took in my obvious confusion. Instead, a wicked grin spread slowly across her face, and she said the last thing I expected to hear from her.

"I want you to shoot all over my face, baby."

Dear god in heaven. My world spun. Who is this woman, and what has she done with my wife?

I rose to my knees, and Sandy extended her perfect pink tongue to lick the tip of my cock as it bobbed in front of her face. It glistened with her juices, but she no longer cared as she leaned forward to take me in her mouth. Her lips and cheek stretched obscenely around my swollen shaft as my hips thrust involuntarily forward.

The shock of being dislodged from her tight, wet pussy had brought me back from the point of no return, but I wasn't going to last long in her mouth. She pulled back and looked up at me, dazzlingly beautiful and dangerously wanton at the same time. "Jack off on my tongue, Grant." She opened her mouth and extended her impossibly sexy tongue as I brought a hand up and began to stroke myself. I watched her right hand, closest to the back of the couch, reach down between her legs to play as she waited for me.

Out of nowhere, I was struck by an idea I would have immediately discarded any other night. Should I? Fuck it -- go for it! With my left hand, I reached behind me until my fingers closed on the empty wine bottle perched atop the table. With one smooth motion, I brought it around to Sandy's crotch, and slid the neck into her slippery opening. Her eyes grew wide with surprise, but her jaw remained open, and I reveled in my triumph. I pumped the bottle in and out of her pussy with my left hand in time with the stroking of my cock with my right. I watched the need on her face grow urgent as her hips bucked, but her mouth stayed determinedly open, tongue extended, positively begging for my cream.

It was too much. I fell headlong into the most powerful orgasm of my life. Although I had been trying to aim for her mouth, my first shot flew high and sailed over her cheek to impact wetly on the leather of the couch back behind her. My next stroke was on target, and sprayed the back of her throat. That seemed to trigger her own orgasm, and her body writhed under the combined onslaught of her hand on her clit and the wine bottle reaming her. But she rode it out gamely, obviously determined to catch as much of my load in her mouth as possible. Rope after rope of my cum pumped across her lips, and cheek, and tongue. Some even made it beyond her face and into her hair. It coated the inside of her mouth, as my nuts continued to churn and my sack clenched in ecstasy.

Finally, an eternity later, it was done. Sandy leaned forward again to take the coated head of my dick between her lips for one last dirty slurp of my cream. I had enough presence of mind remaining to gently draw the bottle out from between her legs, and stand it up on the coffee table behind me, albeit shakily. It was coated with evidence of her excitement. I leaned forward to rest my forehead against hers as she licked her lips and swallowed, managing not to fall forward on to her, which was a victory given my current state. My lips pressed against hers gently, and I tasted my cum on her mouth as she had tasted hers on mine earlier in the night.

"Oh. My. God." Her voice conveyed mostly awe, but seasoned with the faintest hint of hysteria; it was almost as if she couldn't quite finish out loud with "what have I done?"

Fears I hadn't yet acknowledged in myself were reassured in that moment, as I realized how much we had both risked ourselves, in a way we hadn't with each other since our relationship first got serious. I rushed to protect her heart. "You are the most incredible woman who has ever lived," I whispered reverently to her. "What did I do to deserve you?"

I felt her breath catch with a small sob of relief, and her arms wrapped tightly around me, holding our faces close as the tears came. And then she was kissing me all over my face, leaving little kiss-shaped splotches of my jizz like stamps wherever she smooched. We broke out laughing, and moved apart to look at each other.

"Ohmygod," she said again, this time with a huge smile on her face, and elation in her voice.

I felt it too: a lightness, a relief that we could be completely unhindered and unselfconscious with each other, in a way we hadn't been physically in years. Oh, we'd always loved each other, and despite the inevitable hiccups that came with long and sometimes unplanned absences in my former job, we'd become closer friends every year we'd been together. We were in synch as parents and partners in our everyday life. But physically, things had become...routine? More than that, I realized with a flash of rare insight, we had held back with each other because neither of us wanted to risk the wonderful relationship we already had in order to pursue a sexual thrill. But just now, we'd both rolled the dice and won. We were giddy.

"You're telling me," I replied with feeling. "So much for your early night."

Sandy looked at me hard, like she had earlier standing in front of me before she went to bed, as though she was still trying to puzzle something out. Then she grabbed my hand - the one I'd used to get myself off - brought it to her mouth, and sucked and licked it clean. She did it without hurrying, and without saying a word, and then stopped and looked penetratingly at me again.

I understood, finally. I gave her the smallest of smiles, leaned down to her face, licked a gob of my cum off her cheek and swallowed it. She grinned. I ducked down again to scoop another dollop up with my mouth, then kissed her. My tangy jizz swirled around in our mouths. I pulled back and looked at her calmly, and the message was clear: Nothing you can do will shock me or disgust me or make me think less of you. Be whoever you want to be in my bed. Play with wild abandon, you're safe with me. Why had it taken us so long to come to such a simple understanding?