Mrs. M

"Do as I tell you, Susan. I want to watch you masturbate."

She moved her hand down to her pussy and began rubbing it, then inserted her middle finger and fucked herself with it. She put her head back and closed her eyes and imagined it was him fucking her.

After he undressed, he stood watching her for a few moments. He had never seen a woman masturbate before, and he decided he liked it and would have her do it often for him. Just as she was building herself to an orgasm, he stopped her.

"Quit for now and go get a razor and some shaving cream and get in the shower."

"Why? What is that for?"

"I'm going to shave your pussy because I don't like getting hair in my mouth and so you can wear the present I bought you."

"If you do that to me, then I get to do the same to you. Okay?"

"Sure. Why not!"

After the water heated a little, they got in the shower. He got on his knees and sprayed her pussy with the shaving cream; then gently and carefully began to shave. He was extremely careful not to cut or even scrape her. She spread her legs so he could reach everywhere.

When he was done, he took the spray and sprayed her pussy with the warm water. She almost came right then. "How beautiful," he said, still on his knees inspecting his work. "So smooth, and it smells so good! I've got to taste it now." And with that he buried his face in her newly shaved pussy, his tongue plunging between the lips.

She suddenly realized how much more sensitive her pussy was now, shaved, and almost came just from his tongue's first entry. Her legs were beginning to feel weak as he drove his tongue deeper and deeper into her. When he hit her clit and sucked it between his lips, she did cum, almost collapsing to the floor. But he held her up by her hips and by his face pushing into her pussy, as he continued to plunge his tongue in and out and licked up and down and moving to her clit and then repeating the process until her orgasms just keep coming and she was losing consciousness, and he couldn't hold her up anymore and she sunk to the floor.

When she recovered: "That was amazing. I've never felt anything like that before. Now it's my turn. You stand up and let me do you."

She was as careful and gentle as he was. When she finished, se sat on the shower floor and admired her work. "It's beautiful. I've got to taste it. I'm going to do something for you now, luv, that I've never done for anyone else—ever."

She French-kissed the head, then nibbled on it ever so slightly. She ran her tongue down the underside all the way to his balls and took them in her mouth and sucked them gently. The moved her tongue all the way up to the head and took it in her mouth; all the while swirling her tongue around it. Then she took more of it in her mouth, never ceasing to swirl her tongue. He was light-headed and began sliding down the wall. She followed him down, never letting her mouth lose its grip on his cock.

When he was fully seated, she looked up at him and said in a soft and intimate voice, "I want you to cum for me, baby, can you do that? I want to taste your cum. Don't pull out from me till I'm done, okay? Will you let me taste your cum?"

She didn't wait for his answer and didn't see him nod his head. She spent the next five minutes making love to his cock until he exploded. It surprised her, even though she was expecting it and looking forward to it. He came and he came and he came. She tried to swallow it all, but there was such a copious amount, some was running out of her mouth and running down her chin and dripping on her tits, but she kept sucking and licking till there was no more, and continued sucking until his cock was absolutely clean,

What a sense of power she felt seeing the look on his face and realizing what she was able to do to him. She decided to test her power a little further. She dipped her finger in the cum on her chest and put the finger up to his lips. He took the finger in his mouth and sucked the cum off it. She had another orgasm just watching him suck on her finger.

***

When they got back on the bed, "What's in the bag? Did you get me a present?"

"Yes, I did. Go check it out."

She got up, walked over to the bag, reached in, and pulled out a padlock. "You got me a lock? What's that about?"

"That's not your present. Your present is in the box that's in the bag. Take a look."

She took out the box, opened it, held it up. "You got me a bikini?"

"Yes. I ruined your suit yesterday so I figured I owed you a new one."

"That's nice of you, Troy, but I can't wear this. It's nothing but a couple of pieces of thin white cloth. I can't be seen in this,"

"Of course you can. That's the point. To be seen. You have a gorgeous body and it needs to be seen. You should be proud to show it off."

"But I've never worn anything like this in my life. I'd be too embarrassed."

"Don't argue with me now, Susan. You are going to wear it. Sundays when I come over here to go swimming, I don't want to see you in an old grandmother's suit like you have been wearing. I want to see your beautiful body. If we go swimming during the week when I am here, we can both go nude, but on Sundays or when we are with other people, you will wear that suit."

"But the girls you guys hang out with at the pool all wear skimpy bikinis. Compared to them all my old lady flaws will be glaring."

"Don't be silly. Your fully developed beautiful woman's body will put them all to shame. We're not discussing this any more. You are wearing the bikini."

That night, and the rest of the week, she put on pajamas and went to bed and pretended to be asleep when her husband came home. Every night she cried herself to sleep after he fell asleep. She was conflicted. She hated herself for what she was doing to him, but she knew she could not stop seeing Troy.

***

And so it went the rest of the week. He would show up at about 9:30. He would enter by the side gate and lock the gate with the padlock he brought. She would be waiting for him naked. Sometimes she would drop to her knees and start sucking his cock the minute he walked in; sometimes he would lay her over the kitchen table and make love to her pussy, sometimes they would move upstairs to the bedroom and fuck. At lunchtime she would make them lunch, then sometimes go upstairs and fuck some more; sometimes they would go out on the patio and sunbathe, and then go for a swim; always the days were spent naked. He would stay until about 3:00 in the afternoon when he would dress and leave by the side gate, taking the lock with him, in order to leave her time to do some of her chores and to be able to cook supper for her kids and husband.

Wednesday, Mr. M & Mrs. M had a bit of a row. She usually ironed Mr. M's dress shirts on Tuesday, which he wore for his work. But, of course, Tuesday she had spent the day fucking Troy and did not get around to the shirts. When Mr. M went to get dressed there were no dress shirts hanging in his closet.

"How come I don't have any shirts?" he asked her.

"I didn't get a chance to do them this week, they're still in the dryer."

"Okay, could you iron me one while I get ready?"

"No. I've decided they're too much extra work to put into my schedule. You're either going to have to do your own shirts from now on or take them to the cleaners and have them do them."

"Couldn't you have told me about this decision before I needed one to go to work? I was in the military so I know how to iron a shirt, but you could have told me beforehand."

"I forgot."

"I don't see how you could forget such a thing. Maybe I could forget to put money in your household account this week."

"Yeah, you're going to get smart with me; maybe I'll forget to cook supper for you."

He really didn't want to argue. "Is there something bothering you? You have not been acting like your usual self lately. Is there something you want to talk about?"

"There's nothing wrong. Just leave me alone."

He went down and got a shirt from the dryer and ironed it and left for work. He would spend Sunday mornings from then on, before cleaning the pool, ironing his shirts for the week.

Friday, just before the time for Troy to leave, they were lying in bed, cuddled, after a long afternoon session of lovemaking. "What are we going to do about the weekend?" she asked. "Tomorrow Junior and Robert will be home all day, and Mr. M will be home tomorrow night. Then Sunday, everybody usually comes over here to use the pool. How are we going to handle all that?"

"What do you suggest?" he asked.

"We have to act completely normal. There can't be any signals or signs that someone might pick up on. Can you do that?"

"Can you?"

"We have to. It'll be hard, I know, but we have to. It'll probably be best if we keep our distance from each other as much as we can."

"Okay. But you will wear the bikini Sunday."

"Yes, I'll wear the bikini. I promise."

***

They thought they had succeeded quite well. There was only one short scene between Mr. M and Mrs. M when she appeared at the pool on Sunday in her new bikini.

"Wow!" said Mr. M. You look fantastic. What brought this on? You've never worn something like this before."

"Don't you like it? I did it for you. I saw you ogling all those young girls and I thought maybe I could get you to ogle me too."

"I love it. I assure you you've got my full attention."

Troy watched and listened and glared at them while this conversation was going on.

He brought it up first thing Monday morning. "What was that all about yesterday with Mr. M?"

"What did you want me to do? Was I supposed to tell him I was wearing the bikini for you?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I expected you to tell him."

"Don't be silly, Troy. I couldn't do that. Don't you realize what kind of a row that would have caused, in front of everybody?"

"I don't care. I want everybody to know you're mine; you belong to me."

She reached out and started rubbing his cock through his pants, cooing in a seductive and soft voice: "We can't do that, Luv. Please, lets just enjoy what we have. Don't ruin everything for us. Let's go out on the patio and I'll masturbate for you and you can come all over me. That's show you I belong to you. You can do whatever you want to me."

An hour later he had forgotten all about yesterday. And they spent the week, and the week after that, the same as they had spent the first week. By the fourth week, however, they were no longer just fucking and sucking and cumming on each other. They were talking love and making love to each other. She sat on his lap kissing and fondling and they fed each other at lunch time. She had shifted her Saturday grocery shopping to Sunday so they could meet at a motel and make love for an hour. They texted each other whenever they were apart whenever she could sneak it in.

Mr. M and Mrs. M were hardly talking to each other by then. Mr. M was not coming home right after work and when he came home he was reeking of alcohol. A couple of nights he didn't even make into the house; he fell asleep in his car after pulling into the garage. She had to wake him in the morning so he could clean up and get ready for work. He hadn't even closed the garage door. She quit cooking supper for him.

Saturday evenings he sat in front of the TV drinking while the kids played their games; would not participate fin the poker games even. He spent Sundays the same. He quit cleaning the pool. Told the kids that if they wanted to swim they would have to clean the pool themselves.

***

One day during the first week of August, after they had just shaved each other in the shower and had their usual after-shaving ritual, they lay cuddled on the bed recuperating for their next bout, when Troy brought up a subject again that they had discussed many times before. "Susan, I don't want to leave. I want to spend the night with you. We should be able to sleep together in each other's arms. I lay in bed at night at home and I want you so bad I think I might just run over here and push Mr. M out of here and show everybody you belong to me. It bugs me that you're still sleeping with him."

"Oh, I long for the same thing, Hon. But we can't do that, I have a family that I love. But I am almost 40-years-old and I've never worked outside the home since I was a teenager. I have no skills except running a house. And you don't have a job and you'll be leaving in a couple of weeks for the Academy; how would I live? And believe me, I don't sleep with Mr. M. and haven't since the first night with you. I sleep on one side of the bed and he sleeps way on the other, and we never touch each other. Besides, I belong to you way more than I have ever belonged to him. You are the only one that I have ever gotten naked and masturbated for. Yours is the only cock I've ever made love to; yours is the only cum I've ever swallowed. And you are the only one I've ever done for whatever you asked. I've shown you how much you can do whatever you want with me; I've made you come all over my body and my face to show you how much I belong to you. I ask you again, I'm begging you, please don't ruin all this."

"I know all that. It's just that I want you so badly."

And they made love, and the subject was put aside again.

On August 14, a sad day for both of them, the day before Troy was to leave for Colorado Springs; they lay cuddled in bed. Troy was trying to comfort her. She had been crying all morning.

"I've gotten so used to you. How am I going to get along without you.?" she sobbed.

"I know. I feel the same way. I'll be thinking of you every minute of every day. We'll just have to text each other every day.

"You say that now, but you'll meet some young lady at the Academy and fall in love and forget all about me. You'll see."

"That's not going to happen and you know it. I'll never forget you. I'm going to miss you so much. How about I take some pictures of you I can carry with me, that I can look at and make me feel better."

"Okay. Let me get dressed."

"No. Just as you are. In fact, I'd like some pictures I can look at when we're apart."

"They'd be just for you? You wouldn't show them to anybody?"

"Of course not. Just for me."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Troy digs out his phone and starts taking pictures from all different angles of her lying on the bed naked. "Now let me watch you masturbate."

She feels embarrassed at first but moves her hand down to her pussy and starts rubbing. As he arousal rises, her inhibitions lessen, she starts to feel excited and as her climax gets closer, the inhibitions and embarrassment disappear completely. She gets more and more excited until she is writhing and humping her hand furiously as her climax becomes imminent. Troy watching her, can't stand it anymore. He props the phone on the dresser, making sure to the scene is captured properly, and climbs on Mrs. M and begins fucking her. He no more than enters her when her climax hits and she wraps her legs around his waist and undulates under him as though she were a bucking horse causing him to explode with his own orgasm.

They spend the rest of the day making love, forgetting to even have lunch. Their last act was of him pulling out just before cumming and climbing up to put his knees up on either side of her and putting his cock at her mouth. She took it and sucked and tongued him until he was about to cum; then took his cock out of her mouth and let him spray his cum over her face and tits. Then she licked him clean. Afterwards, he got up and wet a washcloth and cleaned her up.

The last hour before he had to leave, they lay cuddled in each other's arms, she sobbing and he trying to console her. "How am I going to get along without you? she sobbed. "You won't forget me, will you? I don't want you to find somebody else and forget all about me."

"I've told you before, Susan, I will never forget you. You are the only one I will ever want."

And so on until it was time for him to leave. They showered together, and he got dressed. She, still naked, walked him down to the door, teary-eyed. They kissed passionately, and he left. She went upstairs and changed the sheets, then lay on the bed and cried until it was time for her to get supper for the kids.

The first week after he left was pure misery. She spent most of her days crying. She texted him every day, and every night when she went to bed she was even more miserable, because he wasn't answering her texts.

After a month of not receiving any response, she finally began to feel she had been right all along. He had found somebody else, had forgotten her, did not want anything to do with her anymore. She slowly began to accept that fact and to realize what she had done to her husband and family and to feel deep regret, and sincerely wanted to make amends.

One night a week or so later, when Mr. M had come home drunk again and fallen into bed and fell immediately to sleep, she got up the courage to slide over and cuddle him. He did not wake, but she lay there next to him anyway, feeling how much she had missed this kind of intimacy with him. When he staggered out of the shower in the morning, she told him in a tentative voice, "If you come home on time tonight, I'll have dinner ready for you. That is if you want."

He stared at her for a moment, then only shook his head and said, "Okay," and got dressed and left for work.

He did come home that night at the usual time, and he was sober. She fixed them both a drink and she sat with him and tried to start a conversation. He didn't drink his drink and did not seem to want to participate in any conversation, but she sat quietly with him, and when he finished, she followed him up to bed. He took a shower and climbed into bed and she moved over to him and tried to cuddle up to him. He did not respond, but neither did he push her away.

The next night she had dinner ready for him again. He came home on time and sober. She tried again at conversation. "This is nice," he told her. And the house looks better than it has in months. Are you back?"

"I'm back," she said.

When they went to bed he reached over and kissed her on the cheek and told her good night and cuddled next to her.

Two nights later they made love for the first time in months. And every night thereafter for the next week. Their routine gradually moved back to what it had been for the previous nineteen years, and she was content and seemed happy and seemed to have forgotten about her affair with Troy.

***

Three days before Thanksgiving she was sitting at the kitchen table planning for Thanksgiving dinner. Junior would be in tomorrow for a week from college, Robert would bring his girlfriend. Mr. M's parents would visit. The doorbell rang.

When she opened the door there stood a different Troy. In uniform, erect, square-shouldered, hair cut short military style, a smiling

Troy.

"You don't get to just show up here, grinning like you were presenting me with some kind of present, after not hearing from you for three months, and expect me to welcome you with open arms. Just go away and don't bother ever coming back again." And she slammed the door and ran upstairs and threw herself on the bed and burst out in tears.

She lay that way for an hour or so, then decided she had to get up to continue her preparations for Thanksgiving. She spent the day going about her chores, mumbling to herself under her breath, swearing at Troy and herself. That evening she again left Mr. M's dinner in the microwave and went up to bed and hid under the covers so that she didn't greet him when he came home.

The next morning she sat at the kitchen table having her coffee, thinking about how she was going to handle the coming day, when she heard a scratching at the patio door. There was Troy begging, pleading: "Please let me in. Let me talk to you. I need to explain. Please! Please!