How I Met My Wife

"He never kissed me like this, standing up, and wouldn't have, I don't think."

"Oh, so we are doing something he wouldn't have?"

"Aren't we wicked! Mmmm! But it felt like you want to do what he would."

Now she had mentioned that. I nodded with moan, then smirked and replied:

"Just to not be so wicked."

She almost giggled with a grin and nodded towards my room. Thank goodness Mom had taught me always to remake my bed in the morning. As we went to it, she murmured:

"Still wicked enough, after a first kiss and right after breakfast."

"Very!"

"Very!" she agreed with a smirk, already unbuttoning her blouse, adding: "And I never thought about doing it on a first date. Oh, well, maybe I did, vaguely, that I would want to with him, but we never did."

"Like my envisioning doing it with girls I never dated."

She smirked and remarked:

"Worse than me."

"If you want to think so."

She waited for me to unbutton my shirt, so that we could take blouse and shirt off together. When we had, she unhesitatingly letting me see her breasts, I remarked:

"I thought you were wearing a bra, like yesterday."

"Hm-hmm, I was yesterday. And you didn't notice this morning?"

"Should I have been? I was enjoying seeing you blushing."

If you'd been looking, you'd have seen that they were aroused."

She grinned and circled both nipples with her fingers. I asked:

"You wanted me to? Were you planning this?"

"Don't ask! But if I hadn't gotten up the nerve to tell you in the kitchen, I guess I was hoping you would have notice."

We were taking off our lower clothes. I asked:

"What did Bob think?"

"I guess he understood. Wasn't it his suggestion? When we saw that it was raining, that was a good excuse for his suggesting we stay here, but he didn't mention that in the bedroom."

We were down to just panty and boxer shorts. I rather liked that my cock had relaxed. We smirked at each other and pushed them down. When she saw me look at her shaven pussy, she smiled and remarked:

"Maybe he assumed why, when I shaved this morning. I suppose he told you that I do."

"Just in the "whole story," that you said that you were going start shaving again."

"Most have been a very good story, if it include details like that."

"It was."

She was looking at my cock and smiled, and then glanced over at my bed. I drew back the covers and made what I thought was graceful gesture for her to lie down. She nodded politely, but with smirk, and did, moving over and patting the bed for me to join her. I did, pulling up the covers, and we cuddled, two warm, naked bodies.

Debbie suddenly chuckled and said:

"This is really a little funny, just jumping in bed after breakfast, and Bob's almost instigating that we should. I hope you think we should."

"If I tell you what I was fantasizing about last night and the night before."

"About me?"

"If you don't mind."

"Oh, that's good, then. Hmmm? Did his story tell you what I like to do?"

"Not really; it stopped after you said that they should find each other, and they did."

"I said that? He told you that? Yeah, I guess I did. Yeah, I was thinking that it should just sort of happen, no hands intentionally – neither of us – making it happen."

"That's what he thought too, liking that neither of you should feel that one or the other was more responsible for making it happen."

"He said that? That's sweet. God, I was horny; it had to happen. If it hadn't happened that night, It would have. That bed was a blessing – maybe not that word. And he didn't tell you any more?"

"Wasn't that enough? It was supposed to be just an explanation of why you were going to be sleeping in his bed."

"We sure did! Well, we did Wednesday night, but I was meaning last summer. After the first week, we tapered off a little, but the first week, morning noon and night, not always noon, but night and morning. We joked about whether we were wanting to make up for the weeks since the last time we had slept with someone, or make up for the years we might could have, if it had somehow occurred to us."

"Sounds delightful," I replied.

"Oh, it was, is, but maybe we shouldn't talk about that. What do you like to do?"

"Everything, well, I think almost everything."

"Me too."

"Hmmm! In his story, before you did, he said that you said: 'We can do that too, I like to.'"

"He did?! Yeah, I guess I did, but I was wanting to really do it. You like that?"

"Shouldn't tell you. Last night when you pursed your lips ..."

"I did?" she interjected.

"I thought so. Shouldn't tell you, but I suddenly envisioned them doing it."

"Sucking your cock?!"

"Your four letter word! But yes."

"I don't like the one for me."

"I don't either. That was a little disturbing, my envisioning that you could, not the nicest thing to suddenly think about a nice girl."

"Maybe I'm not nice, What guys can envision!"

"That was what was funny, that that had never occurred to me before. A couple of girls have, but I never thought about that, when I was seeing them somewhere else."

Debbie's hand found my relaxed cock, and she smirked, then pursed her lips and said:

"This isn't somewhere else, and I like to, and then you can. You'd better like to."

"Oh I do, especially a shaven pussy, only one."

"Close the window and turn up the heat."

I slipped from under the covers and did. When I turned back to the bed, Debbie was kneeling on the floor next to it with the covers over her shoulders, grinning and then pursing her lips. She really wanted to! No girl had done it like that with me, just in videos I had seen. I sat down on the bed in front of her. She moaned as she raised my cock, looking up at me with an aroused expression, then pursing her lips again, and then my fantasy was real. I watched her lips slip around my stiffening cock.

I don't like the expression, but she gave me the best blow-job I had ever had, except for the fact that I came much sooner than I wanted to, but she loved it, moaning with me, then having to gulp, and then swilling my cum around the head of my cock, obviously enjoying it. She raised her head with an aroused expression, and I saw that her hand was between her thighs. She licked her lips, hardly smiling. After all our talk, I was expecting her to say something, but she didn't, just moaned again and licked her fingers.

That said enough; now it was my turn, her turn. As though she wanted to make sure I understood, she moistened her fingers in her pussy again and held them of for me to suck. I did with a moan, nodding for her to get on the bed. I had expected her to lie on it with her head on the pillow, but she sat down next to me and lay back, spreading her thighs. Was that a better way to do it?

I dropped down on my knees and got between her legs, but was only between them for a moment. She drew her thighs up and let them flop open. It was a better way to do it; I could see her shaven pussy better than any I had before, in the full light of day, despite the cloud covered sky. Had I really seen one before? It had always been dark or almost dark. Hers was lovely, pink, shiny moist from whatever her fingers had been doing. If she wanted me to do it like this, had she lain like this for Bob or someone to lick it?

I had been thinking and admiring it for too long. Her hand slid down and spread her already open lips a little more. I licked, delighting to taste her better than just from sucking her fingers. Could I arouse her and give her a better orgasm than anyone else had, like she had done for me? I wanted to, I had to – try, at least. Her hand slid up her thigh, and then both her hands were drawing her thighs back. I had seen that in videos, but no girl had done that with me. This was the best way.

Had she already known it? She was moaning as though it was.

Whether she knew or didn't, I had to make give her the best orgasm I could, a delightful and very pleasurable challenge. My tongue wagged over her clitoris, stopping to lick down and probe and taste her pussy juice, then wagging and circling again. I loved it, and she was, moaning and rocking her hips up to suggest that I probe and taste again. Then once when she did that, my tongue found more to lick and lapped down and wanted to find more, lapping below the engorged ring around her opening. She gave an almost chuckling moan, and her hips suddenly rocked up further. My tongue touched the edge of her asshole. Did she want me to do that too?! No girl had ever done that, and I had never wanted to, although I had seen in videos that people did and apparently both liked it. If she wanted me to, her hips didn't rock back down again. My tongue tentatively circled it. She gave a surprised "uhnn!"

She could have rocked her hips back down again, but she didn't; she wanted me to. And I wanted to do anything she wanted. I did, feeling it tighten and hearing her pulsing moan. She was liking it. I was too. It relaxed, and my tongue instinctively probed, and it tightened again, and she moaned like that again. If it was new to her, like it was for me, she was liking it. If she wanted me to do something that she already had experienced, I was more than pleased that I was obliging.

Then her hips did rock down, my tongue finding fresh pussy juice as it lapped up. That had been arousing for her. My tongue probed in her pussy, as deep as it could. She tasted so good, and the mouth of her vagina contracted on my tongue. But then she wanted it back on her clitoris; her hips rocked down a little, and suddenly her hands were holding the back of my head, clasping my mouth to the front of her pussy. I sucked and licked, and we both moaned.

I had been holding her breasts, nice breasts and so stiff nipples, but when she lost control of her hips, I had to grab them to keep my mouth on her when they began to jerk, almost rising off the bed. If it wasn't going to be her best licked pussy orgasm, it was going to be the best one I had experienced.

She came, whimpering, laughing like no other girl had. Why hadn't I made it that good for them? But I had for Debbie. She gasped and pushed my head back from her pussy, gasping and sighing with short pained sounding moans. Now I could see her pussy again, that was still contracting, pussy juice oozing out of it. Then I felt a drip on my cock and realized that it was as aroused as it could be and that my chin was all wet, dripping on my cock. I wiped mychin, waiting for her to recover, almost proud of myself, as I wondered what we'd do after she came back to herself. Her hands were still on my ears.

"Fuck me!" Her soft demand completely surprised me, but she meant it, her hands were urging me to rise up on my knees and lean over her. I felt my cock bob as I rose up. I didn't have to glance down to know that is was arouse, maybe not as much as it had been when she had come, but it was very nice feeling that it bob a little, heavy, aware that it was. I looked at her almost pleading face, remembering what she had told Bob the first night, and my cock and her pussy also found each other.

We both moaned, as he so easily slid all the way into her wet pussy. This was also the best way to fuck, I thought. I held still, and we both felt him throb and felt her pussy contract.

"Oh God, that was good!" she murmured, as we felt them again. I nodded, and she did with her aroused expression. Her pussy clutched my cock again, and it twitched. Then she closed her eyes and said: "Fuck."

I did, grasping her so firm breasts to help thrust my cock in her pussy as hard and deep and fast as I could. She responded with load, pulsing moans: "Uhn-hn-hn-hn!" grasping the backs of my hands. After a few strokes – most have been many at that tempo – she grabbed my shoulders and drew me down over her, her slobbering tongue extend, wanting to find mine. It did, and then her legs were clasped around my waist, and her hips were meeting mine, as my cock thrust in her, our hips slapping together.

That other girl with a shaven pussy had also locked her feet behind my ass, but lying on the bed, I couldn't fuck her the way I was fucking Debbie, the way Debbie wanted me to. I knew why, when she quickly came again, feeling her pussy juice spurt on my pubic hair. But I hadn't come yet. She knew it. After the gasps following her orgasm, she rocked her hips again and demand softly: "More!"

I fucked, we both fucked. Maybe she didn't know that I hadn't come yet, just wanted to again herself. She did, when I did, and I collapsed heavy on her. She hugged me. My head was down next to hers, heavy, all my muscles relaxed – except for the ones that were making my cock twitch, when her pussy contracted.

How long did we lay like that, sighing with softer moans, feeling each other's stomach moving. Then she hummed, and her pussy contracted, but my wilted cock couldn't respond. It slipped out. We both nodded, ear on ear, and I found to strength to raise my head, then my shoulders, and looked down at her. It was a moment before we both smiled slightly. She remarked: "You're heavy."

As I rose off her, I wondered if that was all she was going to say about what had been for me the most arousing sex I had ever had. Hadn't it been at least a little like that for her? She was moving around on the bed, making space for me to join her.

When I did, however, she was immediately embracing me, rolling me back, lying half on me with her thigh between mine, and her mouth on mine, kissing as though she wanted to start all over again. That was not going to happen, unless she wanted me to lick her pussy again. Was what our tongues were doing suppose to suggest that? Hers stopped and she moved down a little with her head on my shoulder, hugging me with her arm around my chest.

We just lay there in silence, a very comfortable silence. Then her hand rubbed a little and she murmured:

"It's called making love. It sure was."

Her hand hugged again. I was at a loss for words. I agreed with her, but what was I supposed to say? She hummed softly and murmured again:

"I shouldn't have said that, used that word, but any other word would have been .... I don't want to use them to say how good it was."

Now I could say something and rubbed her back, replying:

"Not better than it was for me."

"Hmmm, and that, our first time."

We just rubbed our hands on each other. It could have been in confirmation that it had been so good, or that we both wanted it to have just been the first time.

"Shouldn't have used that word," she almost whispered, but her having said that only drew more attention to her having used it. Did she love me? Did I love her? We hardly knew each other, but we sure had made it. I took a deeper breath and murmured:

"That's not all there is to it – that word."

Debbie chuckled softly and rub my side, then remarked brightly:

"But we sure can make it. Oooh! And how? I never did it like that, and what you did."

"I never did either," I replied, delighted that we both had made love like neither of us had with anyone else.

She moaned, and we both hugged. We dozed off. When we woke up, the rain had stopped and clouds cleared, but we didn't go out. We had a naked lunch, joking about the film title. We returned to my bed, chatting cheerfully. She said that she hadn't expected that she and Bob would do anything after all their talk the previous night, but then they had. As she said: 'You can't lie together naked in a small bed without something happening. It was my fault, but you probably didn't hear us, what we were doing."

That seemed to be a suggestion that we should do that, and I turned around on the bed, and we did, then embracing and both agreeing that we were good at making love, both using those words. Before Bob was going to return, we managed to get up and have showers. We tried to share the shower stall, but gave up, and I just watched her, smirking as she made a demonstration of washing her breast and pussy. I could only show her how I could wash my cock, hoping that it would help make it look more erotic, but it didn't. We remade my bed and then reluctantly put our clothes back on and waited for her brother to return.

The doorbell rang. As I went to open the door, Debbie called: "We're dressed."

Bob unlocked the door and opened it before I could, and grinned at us wryly, then said:

"Sounds like you do know each other better."

"Um-hmm!" Debbie agreed, nodding with a smirk.

He chuckled and looked at me. I nodded with a sheepish grin, then was shocked, when I heard myself say:

"But you can sleep with Debbie tonight."

"Hey, I'll decide in whose bed I sleep," she exclaimed.

"'Debbie'? Only her favorite uncle calls her that. Not mine; I've been looking forward to an undisturbed night's rest."

"You! Is that why you asked if I liked him?" Debbie asked, but then smirked and added: "I do," and looked at me and pursed her lips.

"I like her too," I replied, returning her look and licking my lips.

Bob grinned and said:

"Then you have to sleep with your 'Debbie' tonight, after you treat us to supper. I'm only her brother."

"The nicest one a girl could have," she replied and surprised him with a kiss, one that he let be good for a few seconds.

We went out for supper, really dinner at a better restaurant. Back in our apartment, Bob immediately said that he was going to bed and disappeared in the bathroom. Debbie and I looked at each other, smiling, grinning. When she pursed her lips, I licked mine, but that wasn't what we did when we went to bed.

Lying together, she murmured:

"You wanted to do that, with your tongue?"

"I thought you wanted me to, never have before, just seen it in videos."

"Hm-hmm! Me too. Yeah, I guess I did want you to, more curious to know what it was like."

"Seemed as though you thought it was – liked it."

"Mmmm! I did, to my surprise, but if girls do it in videos, people who see them must also know it is arousing."

"You watch girls?"

"Don't you?"

"Sure, but you like to watch girls?"

"You want to know if I have with another girl?"

I just nodded. She chuckled and then replied:

"Too easy in college, after girls discover that a guy really liked to do it. If he liked to, why shouldn't she. I know how good it is. Hope that doesn't bother you."

I shook my head, understanding her logic, and she added:

"Besides, we know how what we're doing feels, but it's not as good as what you can do."

She began to fondle my cock, moaning as it stiffened, then murmured: "This is the way I really like to do it."

She rolled me back and straddled me and guided my cock to her pussy. We both moaned, as her hips sank down on mine. Then she surprised me, reaching down and beginning to rub her clitoris. She moaned, and then I did, when my cock felt her pussy squeeze it. She more chuckled than moaned, when she felt it twitch, then murmuring: "I didn't do this that first night with him."

She continued to rub, and then her hips began to rock to and fro on me. I was fondling her firm, nice breasts and stiff nipples. It got better, both of us moaning. Did I mind that Bob could hear us, or was I pleased that he had to? Was she thinking we could come this way, knew we could?

We could and did, and she murmured: "Why I like it, feeling your orgasm, but now fuck."

She dropped down on me, wanting me to suck her nipples, and we fucked until we both came again.

That's how I met my wife.