Happy Place Pt. 02

"Better go clean up Joe. When you come back bring a washcloth so I can clean my hand."

I returned to bed, cleaned her hand, tossed it in the hamper, and wondered if I had just been told the hottest bullshit story ever. I was usually the one who fell asleep after climaxing, but that night I wanted to talk.

"Not now, Joe. I have a busy day tomorrow. We can talk some more this weekend. Goodnight."

I was understandably restless. She told me to get out of bed and go down the hall to the guest room. I do.

Under the covers I think back to that day. I do remember what happened afterwards. I performed cunnilingus on Barbara. I don't remember the details, but I remember the act. Before that night, it had been just another night where I pleasured her with my mouth, one of thousands in our long marriage. I had eaten her way more times than had intercourse with her. I had masturbated for her quite often throughout our marriage. She told me it was something she liked seeing me do. She involved herself just enough to prevent it from being a totally solitary affair. Just like she did that night, her hand on top of mine.

I had been harboring cuckold fantasies for decades, but kept them to myself. I now wondered why if what she had told me was true did she feel it was time to tell me? I fell asleep, but not before masturbating to images of that day. I grabbed a wad of tissues and cleaned up.

I didn't need much sleep. I woke well before her and was out of the house before she woke up. I left her a note telling her I loved her. I also made extra toast and oatmeal for her. It was going to be a long day at work. She and I rarely called each other at work; if we did, it was because it was an emergency. We saved our chit chat for after work. We left each other notes on the refrigerator or the calendar hanging in the kitchen.

Work ended and my weekend began. I got home, headed to the refrigerator to see what I would prepare for dinner. I timed everything based on her walking through the door at six like she normally did. No Barbara, but the phone rang. I picked it up. She was on the other end. She did almost all of the talking, said their team did really well, and to celebrate were going out for drinks and dinner. She said she'd be home in a few hours. She told me the name of the place. I didn't know if she was asking me to go or just letting me know where she was. I told her to have a good time.

It wasn't the first time she had canceled on me, but it was the first time where I was the one home doing the cooking. When it was she doing the cooking, she'd call work and tell me. I'd stop and pick up something. I decided now was as good a time as any to start an exercise program. We had accumulated a lot of exercise equipment over the years. She used it all the time while I rarely used it. I decided to jog on the treadmill. I could only last a minute before having to walk. I persisted and did twenty minutes. I went upstairs. The potatoes I had baking on the grill were nearly done. I waited another twenty minutes, took them off after squeezing them to make sure they were done. Nice and soft. I grilled the steaks. I figured if Barbara was hungry when she got home she'd appreciate it being available. She wasn't big on leftovers so if she didn't eat it that night it would be my dinner or lunch the next day or two.

I ate, looked at the mail, wrote out checks to pay bills, took a shower, and deciding I had some time on my hand surfed the web. I figured Barbara wouldn't be home until ten. Not on a Friday night, talking with her girlfriends. I hoped she took to heart what I told her. I had taken to heart what she told me. I had cooked every night, did the laundry, ironed, and planned on cleaning the house while she spent her Saturday morning at the gym. I wanted her to succeed at work. I wasn't looking forward to her having to travel. Now that we had the house to ourselves, I didn't want to spend nights away from her.

I went to different cuckold sites. I liked reading stories because the movies seemed so contrived and fake. I cleared the history on the browser at nine thirty and waited for Barbara to come home. She came home, tired, sweaty, and sunburned. She was also a little drunk. I gave her grief about her sunburn. I pointed her towards the shower. I reminded her to make it a cold one. She exited the shower and said her skin was hot. I told her to lay down on the bed. She saw me with a bottle of aloe and suggested we use the guest bedroom as that comforter was old. She had a towel wrapped around her head and one around her upper body, tucked under her arms, it didn't cover her ass or pubis.

We went to the guest bedroom. I spread a blanket on top of the comforter. She laid down. I applied the aloe to her arms. She was in a talkative mood. She told me she had a really good time. She apologized for us not doing anything on a Friday night. I told her there were other nights.

"Besides, we're doing something right now. How much did you drink?"

"I don't know. I think it's the combination of sun, not enough water, and the alcohol."

"Did you eat?"

"I nibbled."

"Do you want me to heat up a steak and potatoes?"

"Would you?"

"Let me do your legs first."

She asked me as I did the front and backs of her legs if I thought she had nice legs. I assured her they were really nice.

"Do you want to hear the rest of my story?"

"I do, but I think you should eat first."

"I think you're right."

"How did you get home?"

"A coworker dropped me off. We need to get my car tomorrow."

I helped her get up. She sat at the table while I prepared her a plate.

She wolfed down her meal. She hadn't eaten all day.

"I feel so much better. Thanks."

It was late for her to be up on a Friday night. She yawned. I was also tired. I suggested she needed to get some sleep. She agreed. I walked with her to the bedroom because she was a little unsteady on her feet. She brushed her teeth. I reminded her she still had her bath towels on. She laughed. I took them off of her and helped her put her nightgown on. I pulled the covers down. She climbed into bed.

"I have a favor to ask. Would you sleep in the guest room again? I'm afraid if you move around too much I'll get the spins."

"Sure," I said.

She actually woke up before me the next morning. She left me a note telling me not to make lunch as she wanted to take me out. She had taken my car to the gym. My legs were sore from my time on the treadmill. I fixed my breakfast, ate it, then began cleaning the house. I decided the outdoor stuff could wait until Sundays. The house was pretty easy to keep clean as there were only the two of us. I stripped the beds, put on fresh sheets, washed the dirty ones, swapped dirty towels for fresh ones, thought about what I would make for dinner, made a grocery list, remembered we also needed more wine and beer and there was dry cleaning to drop off.

She got home at noon to find me shirtless wearing my shorts oiling the bedroom furniture.

"Someone's been busy. Thanks for taking care of me last night."

"You're welcome."

"Are you almost done?"

"Another ten minutes. I just need to shower."

"Let's shower together. After we're done I need you to put more aloe on me."

Due to her sunburn the shower we shared was a cold one.

"You changed the comforter and sheets. Nice. Where do you want me to lay down?"

"Last night you insisted we use the guest bedroom."

"I did?"

"You also asked me to sleep in there for a second night in a row."

She didn't remember, but she believed me. Nonplused, she suggested we go to the guest bedroom again. I spread out some towels. She laid down. She unknotted her towel and exposed her torso. I was also naked. I took one of her arms and applied the aloe, walked around the bed and did the other.

"This bed is comfortable. The closet is almost as big as the one we share. Between the dresser and chest of drawers there is more than enough room for all your things."

"Subtlety is not your strong point, Barbara. Do you want me to move out of our bedroom?"

"I'm just saying. We don't have to be crammed. I could use more closet space. There's a bathroom right beside this room. You'd have it all to yourself. We could put a recliner in that corner with a reading lamp. Our hours aren't horribly out of synch, but enough. You do your best to be quiet, but I hear you every morning. And your snoring has gotten worse."

"Besides, weren't you the one telling me you said more long-time, happily married couples are sleeping apart? You said one of them actually had separate apartments on the same floor."

When she first broached the subject I was angry because it seemed to come out of nowhere, but the more I thought about it all the arguments she was making for it she had been making for years. I did snore more. Worse, I rarely slept all night. I did wake up hours before her. She could use more closet space. She had taken over the bathroom. She needed the television to fall asleep while I preferred quiet.

"I suppose we could try it as long as I have visitation rights."

She laughed, "Or I could visit you like I am right now. If you haven't noticed we're both naked. I think lunch can wait, don't you?"

She looked at my erection and said, "He thinks so. I'm really wet. Want to go in me?"

I got on top of her. We kissed for a few minutes. I considered myself fortunate that erections came easy for me. We knew that I wouldn't last long, but that had never been an issue. I had coworkers who were younger than me and taking Viagra.

She reached down and guided me into her. She hadn't been exaggerating about being wet. I slipped right in. I counted to ten before I started moving my hips backwards then forwards. I went slow out of necessity. I always imagined her pleasure would build and my thrusts would get faster and faster and our pleasure would peak and peak culminating in toe curling orgasms for the two of us, but that never happened.

"It feels good, Joe. This makes me feel close to you which is why I like it."

"It makes me feel close to you too. Remember when you got pregnant?"

"All three times. I can remember the times, the locations, even the position."

I continued to thrust in and out. She moved her pelvis in synch with mine.

She looked up at me, "Joe, when you're done I wouldn't mind a repeat of the other night, but I'll understand if you don't want to. "

I assured her, "I want to. I just didn't want to gross you out."

"It didn't gross me out at all. Did it gross you out?"

"No, just the opposite. I really got into it."

"Why? Because you were imagining it was another man's in there."

I nodded yes. My thrusts got faster. She urged me on telling me to cum in her. I did. I was breathing heavy, but I was also feeling a bit ashamed at her discovering my fetish. I stayed on top of her a minute or two. I thanked her.

"I'm the one who's going to be thanking you in a few minutes. Now get down there and make love to me."

I scooted down the bed, laid down between her open legs, made myself comfortable, and kissed my way up each of her inner thighs. I stared at her labia. She took her hands and spread herself. I licked her clitoris. I wanted to go slow. Her vagina was open. I pushed my tongue into her.

"That's it baby. Get all of his cum out."

She was playing along with my fantasy; it was no longer my cum, but her imaginary lover's. What I didn't realize was that imaginary lover was real; they simply hadn't acted on it.

I was going slow. I wanted her buildup to be long. I lived for moments like this where my mouth took her where my penis couldn't. I consider cunnilingus a submissive, equivalent to a person performing fellatio. It transported me psychologically to a place where women dominated men and the sole purpose of men was to serve women. I don't think wanting to be a cuckold and submissiveness are linked. In my case, cuckoldry came first. It wasn't until I was older that the idea of submitting to my wife took root.

"Joe, I want to finish my story, but if this isn't a good time, let me know."

I assured her, "It's a good time."

She laughed because she knew that would be my answer. Lapping up my ejaculate, my tongue in her vagina, we would be hard pressed to find a better time.

"You remembered that day and what you did after you masturbated for me. I took off my bottoms. You knelt on the floor while I sat on the couch with my legs open wide. I remember thinking, 'What if he can still smell Skipper's cum on me?' I dismissed it because the idea of you eating me hours after Skipper had fucked me was overpowering. Caution was on vacation that day."

"You ate me. You don't remember, but I do. You were so tired from working hard all day. You were normally more aggressive, but not that night. It's like you wanted me to guide you. I put my hands on the sides of your head and directed you on where to lick. Up and down my labia, on my clitoris, nipping at my pubis or the very top inside of my thighs, but I always returned your face to my vagina. I had a really good orgasm."

"We got up a few minutes later and went to bed. You were out quick. I masturbated as I replayed my afternoon at the pool with Skipper. I still couldn't believe I had done it. It was so damn risky, but so damn good. I pushed one of my fingers way inside me pretending it was his cock. I used my other hand and rubbed my clit. After I climaxed, I smelled the finger that had been deep inside my vagina. It smelled of cum. Skipper was still inside of me."

"I even got up early the next morning and made you breakfast. You told me I didn't need to, but I insisted. You had no idea it was guilt motivating me to spoil you. I packed you a lunch of the previous night's dinner. A wicked thought crossed my mind as I pictured you wolfing down the leftovers, just like you wolfed down my pussy. You left and I went back to bed."

"I made myself a light breakfast, went to Jazzercise, came home, and contemplated my next move. I thought about returning to the pool, but I knew we were playing with fire. We'd get caught. You'd send me home to my parents while you filed for divorce, but I had to see him again. Your wife and Skipper had unfinished business. I showered, shaved my legs and underarms, curled my hair, made up my face, picked out a pair of matching panties and bra, put on that blue dress, the one with the yellow flowers on it, that you liked so much. You were with me when I bought that dress. I knew from the stares and whistles I looked good in that dress. It was modest, but it clung to the right places."

"I looked at the clock. Every day, Skipper closed the office from noon until one. At 11:55 I left our apartment. At 11:56, I entered the office. The chime went off as I opened the door. Remember the apartment he lived in was behind the office. You could come in and see him watching t.v. or cooking in the kitchen or even having lunch. He came up to the counter. I thought he looks smug. I was right. He did. He knew I'd be back for more. He just had to wait me out. He knew that itch between my legs would be unbearable and that I'd need it scratched."

"He didn't say hello, but lifted the counter top where it was hinged. He walked to the front door, locked it, flipped the sign from open to closed, and lowered the blinds covering each window. He took me by the hand and led me to his bedroom. He embraced me. He said my body was shaking. I told him it was from fear and excitement. He even told me I didn't need to be here, that he wasn't trying to break up my marriage. I told him I wanted to be here. I confessed to him, 'Skipper, what I experienced yesterday was something I had never experienced.'"

"He asked, 'An orgasm?' I told him I had had plenty of orgasms, just not like the one yesterday. He asked me to be more specific. I blushed and told him from oral sex, not intercourse. He said, 'sounds like Joe is either small or lacks stamina.' I hope I'm not hurting your feelings Joe by telling you this."

I took my mouth off of her vagina long enough to tell she wasn't.

She answered, "I didn't think so, but I wanted to be sure."

I returned to licking her. She rubbed the top of my scalp which at that point in my life was void of hair.

She said, "Anyway, I answered his question. I told him either you were a lot smaller or he was really big. As for stamina, I said you did cum pretty quick, but pointed out to Skipper he came quick. He told me to show him how big you were. I spread my fingers apart. He said, 'That's small. You're right. I'm very big compared to most men. I won't cum so fast today, but yesterday was special, and you had already had an orgasm. Besides, I didn't want you to be too sore for today.' I asked him how knew I'd be back. He looked pretty smug when he assured me he never doubted."

"I thought it must be nice to be so self confident. I know what I'm saying has to be very humiliating, but I know you would want me to tell you everything, even if it's not very nice. We were still newlyweds and I was cheating on you. I was also trying to make myself feel less guilty so placing the blame on you, which was completely wrong of me, made sense. Instead of accepting responsibility for committing adultery, I blamed it on you. If you were better at intercourse, Skipper wouldn't have gotten into my pants. I was only lying to myself, but maybe in every lie there's a bit of truth. Who knows."

"Skipper sat down on the bed and spread his legs. He pulled me by the hand so I was standing between his legs. Sitting there was perfect because it made up for the difference in our heights. He pulled me towards him. We started kissing. He took those big hands of his and put them under my dress. He began massaging my butt. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down. To my knees like he had done with my swimsuit."

What I didn't share with Barbara is her frank assessment of my size and stamina, her shifting blame to me, her loss of desire to have intercourse or perform fellatio, and her deception were humiliating, arousing, and pained me. I wanted to cry, hide, and cum all at the same time. I couldn't hide because there was no way in hell I was going to stop licking her. There was plenty of time for me to withdraw and sulk by myself, but that was not the time or place. So I silently let my tears flow and I kept licking. She later told me she felt something wet hit her pubic mound. She immediately knew what they were, but she also knew we both needed to hear her story.

Barbara continued to tell me the details of their tryst.

"I pulled my panties below my knees, kicked them off. I still had my shoes on. I told him when we paused from kissing that he really liked my ass. He admitted to having a weakness for butts like mine. I told him I wanted to do something. He told me to go for it. I knelt. He leaned back using his forearms for support. I unbuckled his belt, undid his pants, and pulled them down below his knees. He wasn't erect which I had mixed feelings about. I'm having an affair and I thought his cock would be super hard just from having me in his bedroom. You would have been. I'm also happy because I'm not that experienced performing fellatio. I had already made it a goal to deep throat him, but I needed to start small."

"I told him I was surprised. He reminded me he was a lot older than me and required more stimulation. I told him he was a lot harder and bigger yesterday. He said yesterday was pretty damn stimulating. His answer made sense. I took hold of the shaft. It was fatter and longer than yours when you are hard. It flopped over my hand. I opened my mouth a lot wider than I do with you and put my lips around the head. I ran my tongue all over the underside. I took more of him into my mouth until he was hitting the back of my throat. I'd gag if I took him deeper. He was starting to get firmer. He told me to breathe through my nose. He pushed his hips forward. I gagged, but ignored it. My eyes watered."