Sharon Goes Back to School Ch. 14

"Babe?" Sharon managed after several additional minutes, "I need... can you..."

"What, Hon'," Chris slowed, pausing almost completely out of her sex.

"I need," Sharon blushed, hoping this wouldn't be too much, "Can we try a different position? I can't believe how amazing you are tonight, but it's starting to tire me out." She wondered if she could slip into the bathroom to grab some lubricant. As her husband slipped free of her sex, the head rose, brushing over her clit. "Ahhh!" she gasped as the sparks she had been feeling flared into a bolt of lightning. "God, you're amazing," she pressed a hand against her sex, catching his erection with the other, stroking to make sure he did not go soft.

"Do you want to be on top?" Often before she had gone to school, Sharon had elected to take the upper position in order to get better pressure on her clit. Some nights Chris has suggested it, she knew because he could lay there and do nothing to get off. In fact, since she had gotten her nipple piercing, he had seemed to prefer that, as he could play with the jewelry while she was riding him. Sharon considered that for a moment.

"Well, I love that, but my legs are sore from shopping and swimming with the girls," she paused, hoping he would make 'the suggestion.' Chris eased into her and she winced unnecessarily to reinforce that they needed to do something different. He quickly pulled out, anxious about hurting her.

"I guess that's the perfect reason to do it doggie style," he said, a hopeful look that made him look like a little boy lighting his face, "I mean, since we're trying new things this week... I mean..." Sharon had to struggle not to betray how eager she was to agree.

"Honey," she said, pushing away from him and up onto her elbows, "Are you serious? I mean, that is such a degrading position." Chris shook his head.

"No, no! I mean, I just thought... Well, I thought we could try it, even if it isn't... well, if it's too risqué..." Sharon shook her head.

"God, no... I don't want to waste that amazing thing... I can't believe how long you've gone at it tonight," and she could not, but was not dwelling on it at that moment, "OK, if you want, we'll try that." She chose not to mention anything about 'the girls talking about it.' That was a well she might go to once too often if every new thing was associated with Kelly or the other Sisters. She sat up, wrinkling her nose, "But you don't want me to get down on the floor?" Chris shook his head, where he was on his knees between her splayed thighs. He seemed unable to look away from her. He answered in a rush, as if he was afraid she would change her mind.

"Oh no, we can just stay right here on the bed..." He shifted back, "Get on your hands and knees here in the middle of the bed." Acting as if he was the one in charge. Sharon rolled to her stomach and gracefully came up to her hands and knees, crosswise on the bed, so that Chris was to her right. She did not tell him, but wanted to be in a position she could look to the mirror on the dresser at the foot of the bed and watch as they were having sex. Chris caught her waist as if he might turn her, then thought better of it, scrambling to move behind her. He shifted close, his swollen glans pushing between her cheeks and at her experienced bottom. Clenching to make sure she did not allow him entry where she was supposedly a 'virgin,' Sharon gave a dramatic gasp and leaned forward,

"No, babe! That's too high." Chris flushed, reaching down to catch the root of his bobbing erection, tilting the tip down as he moved toward her once again. She arched her back, noisily catching her breath as he found her seam and started to ease in. Her loving husband immediately paused. She nodded her head after a moment, "That's it... Go ahead, babe... Go easy..." Chris was already most of the way into her sex by then. He caught her hips and began to ease in and out. Sharon focused on her body, pleased that she was still aroused... was enjoying what her husband was doing to her. Chris set a faster pace than he had been fucking into her before, and Sharon moaned, nodding her head, "Yeah, Chris... God this feels good... Go on... Faster... God, why didn't you insist I try this before... You feel amazing!"

She groaned again, delighted that Chris was hammering into her like a crazy person... Like Shaun or Dave, if she had thought about it. Without the clitoral stimulation, though, she could not seem to get over the hump. She surreptitiously reached down, trying to frig her wanting clit, without Chris noticing. She glanced over, trying not to stare at the image of her husband, gripping her waist and slamming into her like she was a bitch in heat. The image triggered a brief rise toward climax, but she just could not seem to peak.

Giving up the pretense of not playing with herself, the thoroughly conditioned housewife dipped her fingers over her nearly clean shaven mons to press firmly at her swollen, aching clit.

"Ahhh!" her stomach jumped, then her back arched as she nearly climaxed. Another press set her off. She humped back at Chris urging him on, sure he would climax too.

"Are you..." Chris was panting heavily, and she saw in the mirror his face was a dark pink, "Is it... safe?" Sharon nearly answered that her IUD was in place. She blinked, then managed to nod.

"Oh yeah, baby... Go ahead... we might not be able to after tonight." Chris had never been interested in sex while she was on her period. Most of the guys in the frat weren't either, though Go had some clients who would pay extra for the pleasure. The thought was distracting. She covered it with a feigned groan and shiver. Chris grunted, pushing into her even harder than before, but he did not cum.

They had been rutting together for nearly another 10 minutes and Sharon was seriously considering simply collapsing, before Chris shouted, holding himself buried in her sex from behind as he climaxed. Sharon managed a passable spasm to suggest they had finished together, and then gratefully slipped off of him the moment he was spent. She did not know how long they had been screwing but was sure it had never lasted that long. She ached pleasantly, a dim echo of the way she felt mornings after taking various men at work or after a party at the frat, she considered, that thought sparking a shiver of arousal that had almost totally faded well before Chris had finished. She cupped her sex, rolling to her back.

"God baby, that was amazing," she cooed, "But you wore me out... I'll just have to shower in the morning and change the sheets." She assumed Chris would flop onto his side beside her and fall asleep, but he almost jumped up from the bed, waddling toward the bathroom. Sharon watched him go, puzzled, then lay on her back, absently fingering her still semi-aroused sex beneath the cover that she had pulled up.

Considering how long they had been fucking, she reasoned the ointment had long ago been worn away. Reaching into the pocket of the robe she had hung from the headboard post by her pillow, she retrieved the little sack-- careful to be able to hide it if Chris came out-- and reapplied the soothing gel. Using her knees to keep the sheet from resting against her mons or sex, she smiled at how amazing the night had been-- they had never had sex like that. Now she could 'reluctantly' ask to do it doggie style anytime. She was still ashamed at what she was doing at school, but the ways it had obviously improved their own sex life helped ease those feelings.

She remembered the day, smiling as she decided what she was going to get for Chris... for all of 'her men,' for Christmas. And if her friends were scandalized, well, who cared. She fell asleep with a smile, certain for the first time in a long time she could juggle her roles as wife and mother and slut and whore.

"Babe!" Sharon blinked, looking blearily at Chris. Was it morning already? A glance at the curtains was proof that was not the case. Why was he still up? "Babe!" he shook her shoulder again, more anxiously. She groaned, sitting up.

"What time is it?" she mumbled, trying to see the alarm clock around his shoulder. 4 AM! "What's going on?" Too late the 'mom instinct was kicking in-- something was wrong. She blinked again, sitting fully up and grabbing at her robe. "The kids!"

"Shhh! They're fine... They got home around midnight," Chris said, "They're asleep."

"I was asleep," Sharon said crossly. If he wanted sex again... "Why am I not asleep now?"

"I think I need some help..." Sharon did not immediately recognize what she heard in Chris' voice... Fear? She stared at him, horrified. A heart attack? The way he had been sweating and panting... She knew she should have made him eat better... And exercise. She stood, catching his shoulders, looking him up and down. He was not sweating... Or breathing fast. Her eyes paused at the tent at the front of his sleep pants. She blinked at that... He was erect again? This really was about more sex?

"You're kidding me," she said in barely concealed contempt. A little voice in the back of her head nearly said, 'That's not enough cock to wake me up for,' and she had to pause to make sure she had not said just that. "Chris, I'm tired... I've already let you do it doggie style... I put your thing in my mouth... Take a cold shower."

"I have," he said, sounding miserable, "Twice. I watched that horrid religion show, with the shriveled up nun? Nothing." He looked away from her, "I, uh... I looked at the internet," Sharon inhaled sharply, horrified he was about to tell her he had seen her being gangbanged by black guys and it had made him hard, "There are some sites I found on Scott's computer, and some sites I've heard about from guys at work... Places with pictures or stories when a guy is horny and alone..." He seemed to decide she could not scold him because of that, "I haven't surfed them very often, but it's been a long semester," he tried a fleeting smile, but she could tell watching him he was scared, "I... I've masturbated three times. I've tried ice in a bag. I tried Benadryl... I think I need to go to the hospital."

"What... I mean, how? You didn't... I mean, we didn't break anything," she winced. She had heard the guys talking about someone who had truly broken their dick... No bone involved, but something about tissue tearing and an enormous hematoma. She shook her head to deny the thought, resolved not to look inside Chris' pants. He was shaking his head. He seemed more embarrassed.

"After... After the last time when you... When you gave me a blow job and I couldn't get it up... I decided I wanted to be sure I could give you pleasure, too..."

"But Honey, you did! You do! Last night was wonderful... Knowing I can do that to you? It's... It's sort of intoxicating," she smiled at him, "But I still don't understand." Chris shrugged sheepishly.

"Some of the guys at work have high blood pressure..."

"You have high blood pressure!" Sharon interrupted. "And you need to lose weight." Chris waved away the argument.

"I'm not on a med that kills funtime."

"What?"

"Diabetes, some blood pressure pills... lots of things mess with a man's equipment." Sharon shook her head.

"Sure, but not yours... You've always been able to... get it up."

"But you've seen the ads... I wanted to be ready again AFTER I'd already cum once." Sharon sat back, beginning to understand.

"You didn't!"

"I did," he admitted, "A Viagra Leonard gave to me." The Sharon that had been was horrified at the thought that Chris had told someone at work he wanted to be able to have sex with her twice... or knowing men, that he wanted to be able to get it up a third or fourth time. The Sharon that was nearly became sidetracked wondering how long Shaun or Go could keep it up if they took one.

"That's why you felt... different?" She chose not to say 'bigger.' Her husband nodded.

"And while we were doing it, it was great... I knew you were getting off, and instead of my cumming and being done... It was great, right?" Sharon nodded, not admitting it had been 'okay.' The last thing she wanted to do was damage her husband's ego and have him need the damn pill. "Well afterwards... it didn't go away."

"Oh God, how long have you been hard?" He checked the bedside clock,

"Five or six hours," he winced as he said it.

"But the ads say 'longer than four hours!' We have to get you to the emergency room!" Susan picked up the phone, but Chris shook his head.

"I'm not having an ambulance carry me and this," he gestured down at his 'little friend' out where the neighbors can see. Let's just take your Range Rover." Sharon nodded, stepping into her slippers. She hesitated, wondering if there would be something inside he would see that would make him suspicious... She was sure not, and there really was not time to worry about it. Five hours! She grimaced, wondering how they treated the situation, and if there would be problems afterwards. Grabbing her purse, she dug for the keys as she followed Chris down to the kitchen and into the attached garage. They climbed into the Range Rover and were heading down the drive before she paused to consider she was wearing a robe and nothing else. She cinched the belt more tightly, wondering if she could drop Chris off and go home for clothes.

"Quite the adventure, isn't it?" Sharon could tell her husband was embarrassed. She was touched he had been so determined to pleasure her. Once again she wondered if what she was doing at school had ruined her for her husband, and shivered at how he could have guessed she had not been enjoying sex with him since school had started. Was all of it her fault, or was he still just trying to be the big man and impress her, long after any chance of that happening sexually had been destroyed by her Brothers, the BZ?

The Emergency Department was clean and recently renovated, and the staff took Chris' condition seriously, but it had still been several hours before they were done. Sharon had been relieved and amused to see other wives dressed similarly, though she was reasonably certain most had nightgowns or nighties on beneath their robes. She nervously pinned her hair up, hoping to look less like she had just rolled out of bed, not considering that none of the other patients or their families were focused outward.

Fortunately, they had not had to wait out front more than a few minutes, Chris' obvious situation and the history he provided to the intake staff quickly getting them taken deeper into the ED, where they were left in a room in the triage area. Chris lay back on the gurney, hunched to mask the persistent erection, while Sharon paced nervously, studiously avoiding looking at her husband or her reflection.

When the doctor had arrived, explaining that he would have to inject medication into Chris' penis, Sharon had stood up, stammering that she needed some air and rushing from the room. Chris had called after her that everything would be fine, and she had managed a jerky nod, terrified that even looking back would mean seeing such an awful thing as a needle piercing her husband's genitals. The rooms in the emergency department were glass walled, with off white curtains pulled, hiding most of the rooms' occupants. She hurried randomly along the wide, sterile white corridor, pushing through an automated door to find herself in a long, empty corridor.

The lighting was less harsh, almost dim by comparison, and she had paused, relieved to have escaped the horror of the treatment Chris was going to endure. She looked around, seeing no sign to point out a waiting room, and randomly chose to turn right, mostly because that led away from the entrance to the emergency department. She continued, making at least three blind turns, not considering where she was going, much less where she had been. The lighting was definitely down, whether to save money or to help patients sleep since it was dark she did not know.

Still seeing no waiting room, she reluctantly decided to return to the ER, only to realize she was lost. The corridors looked the same. When she did find a sign at an intersection, it had arrows and the word 'ER' pointing both to the left and right. She paused, abruptly aware that she needed to pee. She thought she had seen a sign for restrooms before and turned, trying to retrace her steps, and quickly becoming more totally lost. And the need to find a bathroom was becoming more insistent.

She sighed in relief upon turning another corner to find a pair of custodians mopping the wide linoleum floor. The men paused, obviously surprised at her appearance... and she guessed looking down, at her clothing, too. The younger man, a heavy set Hispanic cocked his head, while the taller older black man working with him rested his forearms on the top of his mop.

"Help you, mees," the younger man asked, in a heavy Cuban accent. Sharon nodded.

"Bathroom?" The younger custodian nodded. He pointed beyond them in the direction she had been going, then pointed left, then pointed right. She nodded, pausing after two steps when the older custodian spoke,

"That first corridor there, that's where you turn. Then it'll be on the right side, probably halfway down the hall. You a patient here?" Sharon shook her head.

"Oh no, my husband is in the Emergency Department, I was just... I was just taking a walk." The man nodded,

"Didn't think they let patients wear earrings usually," he shrugged, "Guess it must've been a real emergency, kept you in your robe." Sharon managed a nod.

"It was, but they said he'll be fine. Thank you again," and she had continued, wondering why she was so unsettled at the encounter. She decided it had to be that she needed to pee so badly, and was relieved when she made the turn and saw the 'Ladies' symbol hanging from the ceiling beside a door midway down the corridor. She slipped gratefully inside, squinting at the brighter light inside when the fluorescent bulbs switched on automatically. She found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. It was tilted, so that from her position she could see all the way to her slippered feet. The tattoo at her ankle seemed especially obvious, her skin a faintly green tinge in the harsh lighting. She realized that the contour of her pierced nipple was not only visible, but that the metal was slightly obvious through the thin silk. It was no wonder the night cleaners and even the doctor had seemed unable to keep from staring when she had been talking to them.

Blushing, Sharon stopped looking at herself, carefully lifting the hem of her robe after lining the toilet seat with paper. She peed, wiped, then stood and flushed, checking that she had not gotten the robe wet. She had stepped to the sink and was washing her hands when the door opened.

"Sorry, it's occupied, but I'm nearly done, so you can..." she had stopped, eyes going wide as she looked at the new arrival...

Sharon was still struggling to control her panting when she slipped back into Chris' room in the ED. She clutched at the front of her robe self-consciously, relieved and simultaneously worried to find her husband was awake.

"I was about to send a search party out for you," he smiled. Sharon tried to smile calmly. She shrugged.

"I needed to get out of here." Chris nodded understandingly.

"Doc McAllistair said it was a good idea, so he didn't wind up with two patients." Sharon nodded absently. "Geez, you still seem spooked."

"Spooked?" Sharon stopped beside the bed, then hit his shoulder with a small fist, "You scared the shit out of me! I was worried you could die." Chris laughed, but patted her hand, which he had caught the second time she went to hit his shoulder.

"It's okay, Shar," he said, seriously, "I was scared too... I mean, if I lost the use of... you know," he waggled his eyebrows and glanced down at his crotch, smiling as Sharon's eyes followed, "I might as well be dead."