Spiced It Up

Story Info
Wife tries to spice up her love life.
5k words
3.3
21.8k
17
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
JavaBlack
JavaBlack
123 Followers

Spiced It Up

By JavaBlack

I want to thank my editor, Newel Post for their invaluable assistance, and stev2244 for giving me a pre-post read.

Helen Johnson lay back on her bed, coming down from her orgasm. Her husband Charles was already asleep, gently snoring.

Despite Charles' skilled love-making, she felt a bit of unease, like they were in a rut. While she hadn't gathered the nerve to discuss it with Charles, she thought he might be feeling something too. He had been buying her flowers for no special reason and arranging date nights, but it still felt like the "same old, same old."

She was sitting at a table on The Anchor's patio staring at her glass of wine, when her friend Natalie Kaufmann came over and sat down opposite her.

Natalie couldn't help noticing her friend's morose mood.

"What's the matter?" she said. "You look like your dog died."

"Oh, I don't know. I feel a little guilty. Some people have real problems, mine seems so selfish in comparison."

"Problems? What kind of problems are you having? Charles isn't cheating, is he?"

"Oh, heavens no. It's our sex life."

"What do you mean? Is Charles having... issues?"

"No, he's able to do the job, and does it well."

"I'm confused. So, what's the problem?"

"I don't know. It just feels like we're in a rut. Every time, it's maybe not exactly the same, more like variations on a theme. Some making out, he'll go down on me for two or three orgasms, then we'll fuck until we both come."

"So, what's the problem?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. First World Problem, right? I don't know, it just feels like there should be 'more.' I think Charles may feel it, too. He gets me flowers even when there's no occasion, arranges special date nights."

"Jesus, you do have troubles."

"I know, I know. I should count my blessings, and I do, but I can't help how I feel."

"You know what you need? You need a Girls' Night Out."

"I don't want to cheat on Charles."

"Who said anything about cheating? We go out for dinner and gossip, go to a club for drinks and dancing..."

"I don't know..."

"If you're nervous, ask Charles. I know he trusts you, I'll bet that he'll tell you to go for it."

"I'll think about it and let you know."

"That's all I ask; I'll wait for your call."

With that, they drained their glasses, exchanged air kisses and were on their way, Helen wondering what she might have gotten herself into.

From Charles' viewpoint, it was strange. They weren't fighting or anything, and they loved each other to death, but the bedroom was like a black hole, it just sucked the spontaneity out of them. He tried everything he could think of, but nothing worked.

He'd ask her what the problem was, but she'd always say, "Nothing," but he knew that when a woman says, "Nothing," it's something.

Charles was happy to see Helen come through the door at a reasonable hour. He stood up to give her a hug and a kiss, but sensed that she was nervous.

"What's the matter, Honey? You didn't put another dent in the car?" he said with a smile.

"No, no, nothing like that. I met up with Natalie this afternoon, and she suggested we get some of the girls together, go out for dinner, maybe hit a club for a couple of drinks and some dancing."

"Oh, you mean a Girls' Night Out."

"You've heard of them?"

"Of course. Who hasn't, they're pretty common."

"You're not worried about the stories?"

Charles laughed. "While I'm sure it happens, I'll bet most are just urban legends. Besides, I trust you. You trust me when I go out with the guys, right?"

"Yes, but it's different."

"Different? How?"

"Women are there to get picked up, men to pick up women, and I know that you'd never do that."

"And you would?"

"No, of course not! Oh, you're confusing me."

"Listen, I trust you to go out with your friends. If you don't trust yourself, we have a whole 'nother problem."

Helen was quiet for a few moments.

"Okay, Honey, you've convinced me. I'll do it, and I promise to be good."

Charles smiled. "You do that, I'll find something to keep myself amused."

Natalie arranged the GNO for the following Wednesday, and Helen came down the stairs in a relatively modest LBD, with her makeup tastefully applied.

"How do I look?" she asked.

"Like maybe I should reconsider letting you go," Charles said, but when Helen started to tear up, he ran over and put his arm around her.

"I'm kidding, Honey, you look wonderful, you'll be fine."

She'd just finished dabbing the tears from her eyes when Natalie announced her arrival honking her horn.

She didn't want to mess up her make-up, so gave Charles a kiss on the cheek, and ran out with a smile and a wave.

As the door closed behind her, Charles sat down, confident that he had made the right decision.

The first few times things were cool, she was home at a reasonable time, not a hair out of place. Even the sex was better than it had been.

It took her a while, but Helen slowly got into it. At first, she'd only do fast dances, when she did do the slow dances, she made sure to keep a respectable distance from her partner.

After a few weeks Helen came home and was hot to trot. Her hair was a little mussed, and Charles could smell a man's cologne on her. Something, or someone, had gotten her wound up, but before he could think much about it, she had dragged him to the bedroom and went down on him without his even having to ask her. As much as he enjoyed the results, he was now beginning to wonder if he had made the right decision.

One night, maybe she was a little drunker than usual, or the guy was hotter, but she let him hold her close. She was definitely getting excited, feeling a little tingle in her pussy. When she got home, she nearly attacked Charles. They had the best sex than they had had in months.

The problem was that the passion began to fade almost immediately. After a day or two, it was back to dullsville.

The same pattern repeated itself several times over the next several weeks. Not every time, but often, she would dance with a guy and get so wound up that she was afraid that Charles might get suspicious, as she would give him a hot blow job almost as soon as she came in the door, but he was just happy to reap the benefits.

He wasn't complaining, she didn't even want him to reciprocate, she just wanted to fuck, and as soon as he recovered, he was only too happy to accommodate her.

The next couple of nights, while not quite as hot, were still better than they had been, but soon fell back into their old patterns.

This became their new normal. Every other week or so, she'd go out and come home wired, but the effect seemed to wear off faster each time.

Unfortunately, after a couple of months the effect seemed to be fading, as if she was an addict needing a bigger fix to get her high.

Finally, Charles had to go out of town, and she was a little more down in the dumps than usual.

She called Natalie, eager to go out and kick up her heels. Natalie was only too happy to agree.

Helen barely picked at her dinner, anxious to get to the club. Sensing her mood, Natalie skipped the after-dinner drinks and called for the check.

Entering the club, the bright lights and the buzz instantly lightened Helen's mood, and after one drink she didn't even wait for a man to approach her and she hit the dance floor. Soon she was surrounded by a gaggle of suitors, but none appealed to her, and after a few dances she returned to their table.

"Slim pickings?" Natalie asked as the waitress brought another round of drinks.

"Yes," Helen said, but her eyes brightened as one of her favorite dance partners, Anthony, came over and asked her to dance. She tried not to seem too eager, but she was soon out of her seat, taking Anthony's hand.

Just then, Natalie's baby-sitter called and she had to go home.

Helen was going to go with her, but she insisted that Helen stay.

"How will I get home?" Helen said. "You drove."

Natalie looked at Anthony and said, "I'm sure you'll think of something," and then she was gone.

Anthony led Helen right back onto the dance floor, and it was as if everything was turned up a notch. They were dancing so close that she could feel his cock, and she felt her panties getting damp and her nipples getting diamond hard.

She said, "If you don't take me home right now, I'm going to fuck you right here."

He said, "As exciting as that sounds, I like this club, and don't want to get banned. Let's get your things and get out of here."

Helen had no idea where that came from, she felt like such a slut, but she had no intention of backing out now.

They didn't even wait for the cocktail waitress, he just threw some bills on the table and they were gone.

As they pulled out of the garage, she put her hand on his thigh and felt his cock growing. She was tempted to pull it out right there, but the last thing she needed was an accident.

He pulled into his parking space and ran around to open her door. As he helped her out of the car, she fell into his arms and into a passionate kiss. She was almost out of breath, and when she broke away, she said, "I think we should take this inside."

"This time," he said. A shiver of excitement ran through her as he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the door. As soon as he closed the door, he took her in his arms and shoved his tongue into her mouth, and as their tongues dueled, he unzipped her dress, pushed the straps off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, leaving her in her skimpy, damp thong and high heels.

"Somebody's over-dressed," she said, as she started unbuttoning his shirt.

"I'll do that," he said, pushing her hands down.

She got the hint, and knelt down and began undoing his belt. She undid the button on his pants, pulled down the zipper, then pulled his pants and underwear down in one motion.

It was a respectable size, about as long as Charles', maybe a little thicker. She had no trouble taking him in her mouth.

She didn't deep throat him. But she didn't deep throat Charles either, and wouldn't want to give Anthony more than she gave Charles anyway.

He came rather quickly, but she didn't mind, she expected that it would help him last longer when they fucked. Yes, she had it clear in her mind that it was fucking, not making love.

After he came, he went down on her, and frankly she was a little disappointed. He was okay, but not as skilled as Charles, but the illicitness added some excitement.

After he brought her off a couple of times with his mouth, he made his way up her body, paying special attention to her pert breasts.

As their lips met, she reached down and positioned his cock at her entrance, and he slid home easily.

Anthony was a skillful lover, but not really any better than Charles. To coin a cliché, he was "different."

They spent practically the whole time Charles was away in bed. Helen had a close call when she almost missed a call from Charles because they were fucking in the shower. Fortunately, she caught it just in time and was able to calm her breathing before answering.

The next morning, she went home and showered, making sure to remove all traces of her tryst with Anthony.

While he was away, Charles had his own issues.

When he left it seemed that Helen was being especially moody. She never even said, "I love you" as he headed out the door. He was brought up short when he realized that he never said, "I love you" to her, either.

He was still feeling moody after completing the day's business, and having had dinner with his client, he was sitting at the bar drowning his sorrows.

He felt someone take the stool next to him, and heard a woman's voice.

"At the rate you're drinking that beer it might as well be soup," she said.

He turned and saw a woman. Not some sort of supermodel or anything, but her looks weren't anything to sneeze at, either.

"What's it to you?" he asked.

"Nothing, I just hate to see good beer go to waste," she said as she grabbed his bottle and took a swig. "Too late," she said as she put the bottle down with a sour look on her face.

He reached for the bottle, but pulled his hand back. She had put him completely off his game, so he got up, planning on a boring night in his room.

She put a hand on his arm. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Nowhere, just up to my room."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean to chase you off," she said, "Come with me."

He was confused. "Go with you where?"

"To the club next door. They have live music, and I hear that the band's quite good."

He showed her his wedding ring, and she laughed and said, "I'm not asking you to run off with me, just to have a little fun."

He had a feeling of what her idea of "a little fun" might be, but he was feeling down, and was sure that he could behave himself, so he let her pull him along.

As they walked to the club, he asked her her name. She said, "Jasmine," which frankly seemed phony, but he didn't care. He gave her his real name and they continued to the club.

The club was nice enough, clearly not a meat market, and the band was good. It wasn't crowded and they had no trouble finding a table.

As soon they ordered their drinks they hit the dance floor. It was a slow number, and Jasmine fell comfortably into his arms. They started out with a polite distance between them, but as the evening wore on, they got progressively closer until her head was resting on his shoulder and her scent filled his nostrils.

He didn't know if she could feel it, but his cock was stiffening, and he gently pushed her away.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing's wrong, yet, and I want to keep it that way."

"I don't understand?"

"Jasmine, I'm feeling an attraction to you, an attraction that a married man shouldn't feel towards another woman."

"Oh, come on, where's the harm? What do you think your wife's doing right now?'

That set him back a bit, thinking about how she was always hot to trot when she came home on her nights out, but he shook it off.

"I'm sorry, I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll call it a night," he said. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss that had his head spinning.

"I'll let you go this time, but I'll be in the bar tomorrow night at 7:00 if you change your mind, and I won't be taking no for an answer." With that thought racing through his brain she released him and was gone,

His head was spinning as he made his way back to his room. As soon as he settled down, he called Helen. He was a little concerned when she didn't answer right away, and when she did, he thought she seemed a little out of breath, and he momentarily thought about what Jasmine said about what Helen might be doing, but things quickly returned to normal. They said their "I love yous" and "Good nights," and hung up.

He went to bed thinking about Helen, but soon was stroking the hardest hard-on of his life, thinking of Jasmine. He had to fight with his own imagination to keep Helen's face in front of him, but just as he gripped his cock tight and came like a rocket, it was Jasmine's face that he saw before falling into a fitful sleep.

He woke up feeling guilty, but soon lost himself in his work, fully intending to stay the fuck away from that bar.

Unfortunately, that didn't exactly work out.

He did stay away from the bar, but as he was finishing his dinner, Jasmine slid into the seat opposite him.

His mind flashed back to his masturbation session, and all that he could think of was what she might look like naked.

He was like a deer in the headlights when she spoke.

"I was afraid that you might chicken out, so I figured I'd take the bull by the horny, I mean by the horns, and come to you."

"I thought I made it clear that I was married," he said.

"Just because you're on a diet doesn't mean you can't look at the menu."

"I think you want me to do more than just look."

"Okay, maybe a tasting menu," she said grinning.

"Just what do you want from me?"

"Just a little harmless fun. You seem like you can use some cheering up. Come on, let's go over to the club and dance the night away."

He wasn't sure what it was about her, but he let her lead him to the club and they drank, and they danced. Then they drank and danced some more. At some point he lost track of where the drinking stopped and the dancing began, but it got late, and he walked her to her room.

She opened the door and he turned to leave, but she pulled him into her room, and he didn't offer much resistance.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him. The previous night's kiss paled by comparison, and before he could stop himself, he was kissing her back with a passion that he hadn't felt in ages.

Jasmine broke the kiss, and before he could react, she dropped to her knees and had his pants and underwear around his ankles and his cock in her mouth. It felt even harder than when he had masturbated the previous night, and he was soon hitting the back of her mouth.

Helen's blow jobs were pretty damn good, but one thing she'd never been able to do was deep throat, but Jasmine just swallowed him right to the hilt.

Charles was just about to shoot when she pulled off of his cock, holding it right in front of her mouth, and said, "Come in my mouth," and he did. She made a show of swallowing, then licked her lips as he leaned back against the door.

She stood up and got them a couple of bottles of water, and he drank his, still in a bit of a daze. When he recovered his senses, he looked up to see Jasmine standing there, stark naked.

She might not have looked like a supermodel, but her body was something else. It didn't look like there was an ounce of excess fat on her. Her breasts looked like a full "B" cup, with the longest nipples he'd ever seen, about as thick as a pencil eraser, with gold rings piercing them.

She was totally shaved except for a well-trimmed landing strip, and had a small gold ring piercing her clit hood. His cock was already returning to life.

"I hope you're planning on reciprocating," she said as she sat on the edge of the bed.

"Of course," he said, almost falling on his face as he tripped over his pants that were still around his ankles.

They both laughed as Charles kicked them away while shedding the rest of his clothes, then knelt between Jasmine's knees as he gazed at the first live pussy besides Helen's that he had seen since his best friend's bachelor party.

He breathed in her heady aroma, then dove in, giving her the best he had, and soon she was writhing in ecstasy. By the time she came a couple of times, he was hard again. He lifted her onto the bed and climbed between her spread legs, aimed his cock at her pussy and plunged in all the way in one thrust.

Their hips moved in sync as Charles lowered his mouth to her breast and toyed with her piercing, sending shudders through her body.

She came again just as he achieved his orgasm, and he gave her a gentle kiss as he rolled off her onto his back.

They fell asleep, and Charles woke up with a massive guilty conscience.

Charles showered and dressed while Jasmine slept, and he slipped out of her room without waking her.

He felt some momentary guilt at just leaving without a word, then remembered that she was the one who just wanted "some harmless fun," and he felt that he had held up his side of the bargain.

When Charles came home their sex life was super-charged, not just Helen, but Charles seemed wound up, as well.

She momentarily wondered if he might have had an affair, but immediately discarded the idea.

With their sex life now out of its rut, they began to seriously plan their twenty-fifth anniversary trip to Hawaii, and before too long they were holding hands in their first-class seats on their way to paradise.

JavaBlack
JavaBlack
123 Followers
12