Now You Do Mine

I nodded. "Yeah, sure, I could have. My wife has very strong passions, and I know she won't leave me for anyone. Not Walter, not anyone. If I'd said 'no', that might have pushed her to sneak around behind my back, have an affair, maybe more than one. This way it's open and honest, and not a threat to our marriage, because we both know what it is. She doesn't love him the way she loves me."

"Oh. So, you're okay with this?" Her voice was suddenly sharp, the faintest remnants of her anger threatening to surge back into the light.

Honestly, I started to wonder myself. "I think I'm more...accepting of it than really okay with it. To tell the truth, our sex life has fallen off the past five years. We're tired more, have so much to do at our jobs, and weekends are busy too."

"How often, Doug?" Her face was concerned now, her brow furrowed, her hazel eyes boring into mine.

"Maybe once a month. Our last time was a month before she asked." Admitting that hurt too, I realized now.

"I am so, so sorry..." This was the most apologies I'd heard in one day, probably all my life, but each one seemed genuine. She blinked away a couple of tears, and I realized with a shock that her tears were now for me.

"It's...okay, Gretchen. I'm fine with it. I think," I muttered with more assurance than I was feeling. "We haven't really had the same interest as we did when we were younger. I think I'm hoping that she'll come back and be more amorous, more eager for the nights we used to have."

She held me for a while, companionably, and I was happy my cock wasn't erect, my excitement barely a whisper in my loins now. Talking it out with someone else in the same boat, more or less, helped a little. Acknowledging my willingness for Amanda to disregard our wedding vows for a roll in the hay with an old crush gave me an uncomfortable perspective on how I really felt about it.

After a few silent minutes, just leaning into each other, I decided to speak. "Gretchen, what's your story? Why would Walter be cheating on you?"

She sipped in air, almost a hiss, at the question, and moved away, sitting up straight, looking at me. I wondered what she would do next, maybe leave in a huff, or just start crying again. Her eyes flickered shut, then half-opened, weariness replacing her sorrow. "Doug, I love Walter, too, just like you love A-Amanda." Her lower lip gave a brief quiver, but clearly she was having none of it.

She folded her hands in her lap and gazed steadily at me. I knew she was deciding what to tell me, how much she could trust me with. It was a better look on her than standing behind a loaded gun. "We haven't been intimate much in the past three years. Walter hasn't...been interested in sex with me for a while."

"How long has it been for you?" I didn't really want to know, but then again I really did.

"Six months or so since he and I... " Her breath caught, and I saw her marshal herself, refusing to start crying again. "He comes to bed late, never wakes me up, and we don't...we're not naked in front of each other." At that moment, I imagined how lovely she would look standing in the nude before me, how slender and trim and arousing seeing her would be. I forced that thought back and down, like a vicious dog. Gretchen didn't seem to notice.

"He's just not...he..." She closed her eyes again, helpless tears pouring down her cheeks. "I still love him," she whispered. "When I saw him in bed with her, it was so awful. Not that he wanted sex, to make love, just not with me... He looked--fuck--looked like he was really enjoying it. That's dumb to say, we all love sex, but I know he had been waiting for her, waiting for your wife..."

"It's not dumb. Thinking of Amanda and your husband is...difficult for me. I thought she was just too tired for sex, and so was I. I accepted her excuses, and I think I wish I hadn't."

"God, Doug, we're both the same, our spouses..." She buried her face in my chest and clung to me. The only sign she was crying now were the twitches in her shoulders, her arms clutching me to her as I held her again. The old familiar ache in my loins renewed, and I wanted her. I fought the urge to ask her if she felt the same, and I wanted more than anything at this moment to make love to the beautiful woman cleaving to me.

"It's okay. I'm here for you." Those words weren't quite what I'd intended, at least out loud. To my own ears it sounded like I was offering more than simple comfort and commiseration. Breathing harshly, I fought to calm my blood down, and felt my penis thickening, not quite a full-blown erection, but eager to get there, to plunge inside her.

"I know, Doug. Thank you." Her words were muffled by my neck, and the sensation of her soft, feminine lips on my skin hardened my cock further.

Amanda and Walter, my wife, her husband, were rolling around in their long-delayed and certainly feverish reunion. My experience the first time with Amanda in college told me all I really needed to know. Our first time in bed had lasted nearly a day, with only brief bathroom breaks and quick bites of food to sustain us in our lust. She conceded a couple of days later, once again naked and warm in my arms, that she'd loved sucking my cock more than with anyone else, loved how I touched her and tasted her pussy and slowly built us to an ecstatic frenzy, humping her and cumming inside her perfect twat...

Fuck it.

I turned to face Gretchen, lifting her chin until our eyes were level, then I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers, ready for her to pull away, shove me back, storm out. Instead, she closed her eyes and kissed me back, parting her lips in perfect unison with me. Our tongues met cautiously at first, then an urgency took us over, and we started to make out.

It was like it had been in college with Amanda, soft moans, long deep kisses, our hands all over each other. Her breath was fresh with an undertone of cinnamon, her lips so kissable, soft and moist, sensuous and promising. Even through her bra, Gretchen's nipples curdled in desire, and I cupped her right breast in my left hand, kneading the supple flesh, her growing moans encouraging me, drawing me into her. Her hands drifted down to my ass, and she squeezed my buttocks while we kissed reckless and unrestrained, our making out the only noises in the whole house.

When we finally separated, I recognized the hunger on her face, and knew mine mirrored it. She straightened, then put both of her feet on the carpet before rising to her feet. Standing before me, she gazed down, a golden-haired goddess craving the worship I could give her. She was breathing as if she'd run a marathon, and licked her lips, considering.

Gretchen reached down the length of her dress, fingers slowly gathering and bunching it, pulling it up to and beyond her waist, then revealed herself entirely to my gaze, hauling it over her head in one easy motion before tossing it negligently on the carpet. Her bra and panties were a brilliant white, virginal, soft shiny satin in my living room, her breasts, her whole body, yearning for my touch, her eyes filled with a deep longing I hadn't seen in years from Amanda.

I stood, and there we were, almost touching along the length of our bodies. She was as slender and well-muscled as I'd expected. Her breasts were modest but round, nearly defying gravity, and I saw her nipples puckered and aroused beneath their satiny armor.

My hands alit on her hips, softly, gently. "Gretchen..."

She didn't let me say another word, throwing her arms around my neck, planting her mouth on mine, opening it with a soft moan. Our lips met again, a soft joining, sealing our mouths together as our tongues began to dance and play in earnest, far more confidently than before. My arms went around the small of her back, and our slow kisses became frantic, almost bestial, and our moans filled each other's mouths.

My right hand slipped underneath the top of her panties, and I gripped and caressed the pale, soft buttocks of my erstwhile murderess. My lips left hers, and I kissed down the side of her neck, then up to her earlobe, nibbling on it while still cupping her ass. Her eyes were closed in delight, just feeling what I was doing for her, to her, with her. "Yessss....," she hissed, almost inaudibly.

She sighed as I slid her panties over the curve of her slender buttocks. Her musk, thick and moist in the cool air, filled my senses, and my heart hammered for a different reason now as I helped her shed the gauzy fabric, maneuvering it past her slender thighs, releasing it to slide the rest of the way down her legs. Stepping out of the pool of satin at her ankles, Gretchen reached for my crotch, rubbing it slowly at first, then more passionately as I moved from her earlobe, along her cheek, pressing my lips against hers again.

Our mouths still together, Gretchen's fingers flew down to my belt buckle and unclasped it, then opened each button on my fly as if it were a personal challenge to strip it off me as quickly as possible. She broke our kiss to pull my jeans down past my knees, then did the same for my boxers. Her fingers took bare moments to stroke my hard-on to full attention, her eyes glancing up to mine for confirmation of my need. My pants were around my ankles, but too substantial to just step out of as she had done with her panties.

She pushed me gently back, guiding me down onto the couch, then kicked off her sandals, and, naked except for her brassiere, straddled me, pressing her moist labia and clit against my cock, moving her hips lazily, bathing my rod with her scented juices. She was breathless, quiet, but I knew that wouldn't last long. "What I want...is penance. You need to make amends for letting your wife fuck Walter, letting him pound her pussy in my own bed, letting her suck his cock...."

Her eyes were serious, intense, pinning me to my seat. "Fuck me, Doug." She reared up slightly, and I felt her fingers expertly maneuver my glans to and fro in the sweet juices on her slit, right to the opening, before she settled down onto me, engulfing me in her warmth.

"Cum for me...cum for me..." Gyrating her hips she leaned back, bracing herself against my knees. Her eyes closed, her face beatific, joyful and free. My hands went to her hips, circled just behind them to support her as she leaned back further. The twin satin-covered mounds of her breasts were tantalizing, and her wispy blonde pubic hair tickled my shaft as we started fucking in earnest.

She was wet, so wet, her pussy a voracious beast gobbling me up, and she moved up and down on my shaft, leaning forward now to use her hands on my shoulders for leverage. Gretchen was at that moment the most desirable woman I could imagine. The heart pendant bounced between her covered tits with each downward movement, hitting right between them each time I was all the way inside her. Her eyes were closed, basking in our spontaneous intimacy.

What struck me most, after her warmth and tenderness, was the way her face had relaxed, giving herself over to me, to us. Gretchen arched her back further, still humping up and down even though she was almost horizontal over the table. Her hands laid themselves on mine, just feeling the strength supporting her. For a moment I thought she might lean back too far, the back of her head meeting the heavy wood with a moment-destroying thud, but she seemed fully aware of its proximity, and came no closer than an inch to it, her yellow hair waving with each motion, a spreading golden curtain.

Gretchen gasped, and her tummy tensed, driving a low moan out of her, the she gripped my hands and pulled herself up, sitting vertically on my pole. Her breasts were still covered, and I put my mouth on them, softly biting the nipples through the sturdy fabric. Gretchen moaned loudly, and started to hump me faster. "Oh, God, Doug... Cum inside me now... Don't make me wait..."

If I'd wanted to make her wait, I couldn't have. Even as she said the last words, my cock started to thrum, a pulsing herald of my first orgasm in weeks, my first time with another woman, another man's wife, in over twenty years. I was helpless, ready to dash upon her shores any moment. I moaned myself, and we began to pant in time to each other, each thrust inside her driving the wind from our lungs in the most delicious way.

"Gretchen, I'm..." My words gave way to an ecstatic yell as gobs of thick white semen forged out of me, driving itself up into my lover. Her head went back, as did mine, her blonde tresses dangling behind her to her waist as her pussy clenched rhythmically on my cock. We kept humping, dangerously eager to keep going, both of us wanting to gorge her pussy with all the cum I could muster.

A minute or two later, we slowed, and I felt my dick begin to soften, though it was still hard enough for another few thrusts to drive a couple of gasps from her throat, and mine. She took her hands from my shoulders, where somehow they had come to rest, and her arms encircled my neck, her cheek against mine, and we both slowed to somewhere near a stop.

"Thank you, oh, thank you...," she breathed. She'd beat me by a fraction of a second before I said the same thing to her. We sat there, her knees on either side of my hips, our torsos pressed together, our bodies in an intimate embrace, the natural result of the first sex either of us had had in far too long.

"You're welcome, Gretchen." I kissed her on the lips and continued to hold her for a long while, wondering if Gretchen's mad humping had helped her get over the sight of Amanda in bed with Walter. I pictured the two of them, naked, wondered how long it would be before he was hard and ready to plunge inside her again, maybe coaxed along by her deep-throating skills and the inevitable blowjob she would present him with, repeatedly if being with him was at all like she had once been with me.

Pulling her face down to mine, I started kissing her again. "Thank you, Gretchen."

She gave me a wan, faint smile. "And you are so welcome, Doug. It's been months, and I'm so happy we did that." Her brow was knit, telling me she wasn't quite as glad, and a little apprehensive of the consequences of our passionate little quickie.

Kissing her again, I felt her hips move, spreading her pussy lips against my cock, which had slipped out of her without our quite noticing. She looked into my eyes, and leaned in for another kiss, this time a longer one. I groaned and moved my lap against hers.

Gretchen chuckled, and her eyes took on a lustful cast. "Don't tell me you're ready again, Doug..."

"Not quite yet. Need a little bit to recover."

Her laugh was easy, satisfied. "Men always do. Thank you, Doug," she repeated. We sat that way, her thighs on either side of mine, her bra pressed against my chest, her trim, hard belly against mine. It occurred to me that a growing part of me wanted Amanda to walk in, even to watch the whole thing, see my determined thrusting into another woman's twat, see us both enjoying each other the way she had been enjoying Walter, hear Gretchen's satisfied, passionate groans. Maybe, I hoped, maybe she would actually be jealous...

I found my voice again, and to my own ears I sounded sheepish, tentative. "Stupid question, but..."

Her laugh was lusty and contented. "Yes, Doug, I came, a couple of times. You have no idea what it's like to have no-one touch you for months, then finally have that. You're so gentle, and I love how you and I just fucked on the couch. So, yes, I did."

"I actually do have some idea what it's like to need someone's touch and not have it, but my dry spells are usually measured in weeks, not months. Very glad you're enjoying yourself," and I felt a little smug being able to say that.

Smiling, Gretchen slid backwards off of my lap, hands braced on my thighs as she lowered herself to the floor. She knelt between my legs, still bound up by the blue jeans twisted around my ankles. "Let's get you out of these." Gently, she reached down and slipped my loafers off, then one leg of my jeans at a time, eventually freeing me entirely. "Much better." It was clear her thirst wasn't entirely slaked.

She inspected my half-erect penis, slippery with her juices and dotted with little clots of my semen. Suddenly, her voice husky, she asked, "How often does Amanda suck your cock?"

"I...don't keep track..."

"Once a week? Once a month? Special occasions only?" Her eyes met mine, and a grin split her face, the effect not unlike brilliant sunshine breaking through an overcast day.

"Once a month. Or so." I'd had to think before answering. Amanda loved to give head, I knew, but that wasn't, again, the right answer for Gretchen, and knowing she was doing the same for Walter...

"You know how often I let Walter put his dick in my mouth?" The grin turned to a sultry leer, promising everything.

I chose the middle ground she had offered. "Once a month?"

She laughed. "No, not anymore," she admitted softly. "I used to do it more, but now it's just for his birthday, or if I've had enough to drink, but not too much. Sometimes on New Year's, if I'm feeling particularly loving." Her smile softened, still erotically charged, and she ran her hand over my slick cock. The juices on it made her hand slippery, and I gasped even though I wasn't quite able to be hard again.

"I'm going to suck your cock, Doug. I know your wife is doing that with Walter, and I damn well deserve it from you. Okay?" Asking permission was at odds with her eager pouncing on my crotch, fucking me, making me cum for the first time in weeks.

I touched her cheek the same way I had touched Amanda's the last time she'd done it. "Okay with me. Gretchen."

"Why do you keep saying my name?"

"Making sure you know I know it's you, not my wife, I'm doing this with."

She smiled faintly. "Thank you, Doug." I could see it made her happy to hear that. She leaned in and kissed the very tip of my cock. My groan was honest and heartfelt. "You know why I'm blowing you, right?"

"You want to punish him?"

Her giggle was merry, acknowledging my foolishness. "No! It's a special occasion, Doug. You're the first man I've...been with...since I married Walter. I want you to know it's my mouth on your dick, sucking you off, swallowing your semen down into my tummy."

"It's only you, Gretchen..."

She smiled up at me, then turned her attention to my restive penis, which was trying valiantly to stiffen for her. Gretchen opened her mouth, and played her tongue over just the tip of it, and I felt it begin to lazily swell for her. "Sit back, Doug. Let me do all the work for now."

Gretchen took the length of my cock into her mouth, and even semi-hard I was close to shooting my load. Her lips were almost all the way down my shaft, and she moved only her tongue, bathing my growing hard-on with it, keeping me captive between her lips. The moist warmth, her velvety tongue undulating against my shaft, drove a desperate groan from my chest. I wanted to cum so hard for her, reward her for what she was doing.

Barely moving her neck, Gretchen worked my cock diligently, lovingly, letting my cock stiffen by degrees within her mouth. I just laid back, let her take charge and do as we both wished. One of her hands crept up my side to stroke my chest, petting the coarse black hair on it, running her fingers through it as she continued sucking.

I had a sudden picture in my head of Amanda wandering in through the front door, her hair and clothing in perfect order, done with Walter for the weekend, walking in on us in the middle of a blowjob, and I wondered what she would say, how she would react to Gretchen doing the same thing she'd just done with Walter. I stole a glance at the locked door, and Gretchen looked up and giggled, seeming to read my mind. "Relax, honey, relax. She's not walking through that door until tomorrow. Even if she does, what's she going to say?"