The Deprived Wife

The Deprived Wife

He can't satisfy her any more but how long will masturbation stop her looking elsewhere.

This is entirely a work of fiction.

She remained in a happy place all that day. Every problem seemed surmountable while this blissful state of physical satisfaction filled mind and body. She could recall every moment of last nights dream or at least from the point when she had reared up with her bottom in the air and ordered her husband to climb on.

"Take me now like the randy bitch I am."

They had never actually had sex in that particular way but then a dream is just that. However maybe this was also a guilty desire which had been hidden until now?

As he mounted she had felt his erection slap like a hose against her buttocks. God but it felt bigger by far than it ever had in reality. Now roused to a fever of desire she reached between her legs to direct the monstrous phallus to its target before with a guttural howl sucking it into her sopping wet vagina.

"Now fuck me stupid."

Again the crude language that she would never use in real life.

"Do me hard and fast."

Then it all suddenly went inexplicably wrong. She could feel herself going off the boil. What was she to do? Why help herself of course. Now with her fingers stroking the hood of her so very sensitive clitoris she was soon back on track.

Don't touch the head, circle around it, that's the way. Hadn't she learnt to please herself in just this way?

Would he come too quickly? Thankfully not in her dream. He seemed invincible, untiring, powerful to the end. The mighty cock plundered her vagina as she pushed back and with a rhythmic hypnotic slapping noise from his balls on her buttocks he began thrusting home faster and faster.

Now she could come with him inside her, come stuffed to bursting with this formidable erection, no need anymore for questing fingers only the action of this pulsing weapon.

The orgasm ripped through her like a cataclysm but when she woke and her eyes eventually opened it was to discover the familiar bedroom now lit by the full light of day.

Collapsed onto her stomach with legs spreadeagled and her hand still clutching at her mound she rested from her exertions until almost at the point of dropping off to sleep once again realised that everything down there was wet with her juices and that the sheet was growing colder as it dried.

So with as little disturbance as possible she left the marriage bed only to begin giggling once she had shut herself in the bathroom. Why had she taken so much care not to disturb her sleeping husband when she left? If her orgasm had not already woken him then what on earth would?

...........

He had roused himself however by the time she returned from her shower. Seeing that his eyes were open she was unable to stop herself from blurting out the reason for her early rising.

"I dreamt that we made love and it woke me up."

He was slow to reply but eventually spoke without displaying any obvious interest.

"And was it good?"

"Yes...that is after we had sorted something out."

Was there a perceptible hesitation before he replied?

"How do you mean?"

"We did it in a different way, I mean in a way that we never tried in the past."

However he made no reply so she let the matter drop and turned away to get dressed but meanwhile he lay watching wondering why he had not asked what was uppermost in his mind. Like what was the way we hadn't tried before and then asking straight out if she had 'come'.

To his regret the longer the silence lasted the less chance he could see of ever raising the subject again without seeming prurient.

Once upon a time they had regularly turned each other on but his sexual performance had dropped off alarmingly long before his illness was finally diagnosed and now he could no longer even manage an erection. What his previously highly sexed wife did these days to gain satisfaction was not something he wanted to pursue nor did he expect to receive an honest answer even if he had screwed up the courage to ask.

...........

Sadly within a couple of days the well-being engendered by the wet dream, the calming of her frustration, had gone completely and her mind and body were back to seeking what she had come to privately call 'her release'.

Before giving in to the urge however she sought distraction in the garden only for the smell of the newly mown grass to suddenly raise the itch a notch or two.

It was a hot afternoon and she was idly turning the new layer of cuttings on the compost heap when the feeling intensified. The crotch of her knickers was already soaking wet when she cleaned the fork and then entered the greenhouse.

There she began idly pinching out the unwanted shoots on the tomato plants but every time she bent to the task her bra-less nipples dragged across the material of her tight T-shirt to swiftly become engorged.

She had only very occasionally masturbated in her youth, the number of times could probably be counted on the fingers of one hand, but the frequency had increased rapidly as her husband had grown more and more incapable. Now at going on forty years old she had become very inventive particularly when she had discovered that at certain times she could orgasm without even touching herself. If the desire was strong enough she could often shut out anything which might distract her mind and by flexing her pelvic floor muscles she could slowly approach the climax which was then finally achieved by a well timed crossing of her legs.

Now, and almost without conscious volition, she began slowly rubbing her crotch against the corner of the cuttings bench and as the resulting friction brought the arousal to a pitch which could no longer be ignored her mouth opened in an audible moan.

However none of this was apparent to her husband who was watching absent-mindedly from the house. All he saw was his wife leaving the glass house and crossing to her studio in the old stable block, a slim elegant woman with long hair coiled up under a wide brimmed straw hat dressed in shorts and with flip flops on her bare feet.

But once the door was shut firmly giving her the complete privacy which she so often needed she wriggled out of her shorts and panties then kicked them aside before dropping into a canvas chair.

With a sigh she then spread her knees wide to reveal a luxuriant growth of pubic hair as she felt the pink gash slowly open in readiness. For a moment or two it was as if she was delaying the inevitable, perhaps teasing herself as her hips jerked edgily and her labia opened yet further as if to welcome the desired invasion of an erection so long denied.

But finally unable to wait a moment longer she raised the hem of her T-shirt and with both hands cupped and caressed the flesh of her naked breasts. Having never suckled a child they were still firm and tipped with large puffy surrounds to the prominent nipples, not large but a comfortable handful.

The silence in the workroom was interrupted by little sighs as the fingers of each hand worked at the sensitive nipples until in time her head went back, her mouth dropped open and her eyes closed to block out everything other than the supreme pleasure of the moment.

So she was already drowning in bliss by the time one hand strayed down over her gently protruding stomach and an extended middle finger burrowed into the pubic hair before being drawn upwards along the full length of her swollen labia to end up hard against the helmet of her erect clitoris.

"Mmmm," she whispered as her legs opened even wider.

Then her first and second fingers parted before alighting to caress the sensitive skin on either side of the engorged bud until as if knowing that her body was well on the way to nirvana, she paused being confident of the final result. It was now time to fantasize, to remember past triumphs.

Had the watcher last week realised that she had cum? Perhaps he suspected once he had noticed the flush which had spread up from her neck to suffuse her cheeks as the orgasm had hit? How cool it was to be able to bring herself off in public, well semi public, visible as she had been only from the waist up?

The dishy man was already seated in the next door booth when they arrived but it had taken no time for them to lock eyes and for her to become damp with desire. He had continued to sneak glances at her and in no time at all she had let her mind run wild while picturing his cock. Was he thick and short, or long and thin?

God but it had been particularly hard not to give herself away as the climax had suddenly arrived shaking her from head to toe, so badly that even her husband had commented.

"Are you alright my dear?"

"It's nothing darling, just somebody walking over my grave."

Now with such delicious thoughts filling her mind she returned to pleasuring her body but only after sliding her bottom forward to gain easier access for her clever fingers. Both hands were now busy between her well spread legs, one at her clitoris and the other at her already open vagina. Two fingers had worked their way in before curling over to make contact with the soft tissue of her G-spot.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh." She was now mouthing breathlessly and totally unaware of anything other than the mounting ecstasy. The movement of the fingers circling her clitoris also grew more urgent as her feet seemed to become rooted to the floor and she arched upward as if bearing the full weight of a thrusting male.

"Yes, yes, oh yes, now it's beginning... It's here...I'm coming...Yes, yes.....yesssss."

Her hips bucked once, then again, and one final time before she fell back with her head lolling to one side and the hat now at a crazy angle.

Sated she fell into a doze but it lasted only a minute or two before the noise of the phone brought her suddenly back to the present. With an effort she eventually stood, crossed over to the work desk and lifted the receiver. She listened for a moment then replied softly.

"Yes dear, I'll be in shortly to make the tea."

She stood dreamily in front of the sink with feet spread wide as she wet a sponge then tenderly washed her bush before patting it all dry with kitchen roll. Her mind was still miles away even as she pulled on her panties then the shorts before re-settling the straw hat squarely on her head and returning slowly to the house.

"Did you have a good afternoon?"

Her husband asked as he manoeuvred his wheelchair to the table.

"Oh you know, much as usual."

.............

"You're being stupid," her twin sister sounded and looked appalled when Prue finally confessed her needy condition, "you have to get laid, and soon, otherwise you'll go mad."

"But plenty of women do without a man, I mean they don't seem to need sex."

"Oh I'm not denying that but they are not passionate women like us. I'd go up the wall it I didn't get it regularly."

"You do seem to have an unlimited source of dishy men."

"That's not surprising given my job."

Her sister was instantly recognisable being a famous actress and they were at present in a TV green room awaiting Florence's call which came immediately on the tannoy.

"Miss Grainger to the set, please."

"Wait for me sister, I've just got this one scene then we can go and eat."

So saying the actress left but within minutes somebody entered and without a word bent over from the rear and cupped Prudence's breasts.

"Oh," was all she managed to get out before he nuzzled her ear sending shock waves to the farthest extremity of her body but was then gone as fast as he had appeared. Prue was left trembling with desire only managing to reach a reasonable level of calm by the time her sister returned.

"The strangest thing has just happened," she blurted out, "a man came in and touched me up then left."

"Did you see his face?"

"No, my back was to the door as you can see."

"Oh well, no harm done, let's get out of here."

But in the taxi Florence was still mulling over sister's recent encounter.

"I reckon he thought you were me."

Prue laughed unsteadily still feeling aroused from the man's caress's and the hint of aftershave which she could still detect in her nose.

"But he fondled my breasts?"

"There are a lot of men about who know I appreciate a that sort of quick appetiser."

That shut Prudence up, at least until they were well into the meal but then she returned to the encounter like a dog to a bone.

"I suppose we are very alike, at least in appearance."

"Like two peas in a pod darling and not just in looks."

But then when they had got to coffee Florence seemed to light up.

"Listen Prue, I've got the very solution to your problem."

"You have?"

"We need to work on the details obviously but basically, oh god I hate that word, essentially it boils down to me accepting a date with a presentable man but it's you who will turn up and hopefully get your rocks off."

That night Prue's mind kept returning to the illicit feel of those strong male hands at her breasts. It might have been only seconds but every moment was engraved on her memory as she mimicked his actions. Her nipples, as then, were instantly erect under his/her palms and her vagina was wet with desire.

So for the first time in her life she purposely masturbated while alongside her husbands sleeping body but even when lying spent from these exertions her mind remained in a turmoil.

Should she adopt her twin sister's plan? The thought of being penetrated by a real erection wielded by a fit man was delicious but how could this be made to square with her conscience. However in the end she realised that something had to be done to save the marriage and in celebration brought herself off once more as the first signs of dawn penetrated the blinds.

.............

So having finally committed herself to the arrangement Prudence found herself at a fashionable restaurant where initially she was embarrassed by being falsely taken for her famous sister but soon found herself slipping easily into the impersonation.

"Just smile at Joe Public but don't on any account get into a conversation with anyone other than your date."

This was the last instruction issued by Florence and she followed it to the letter but sadly for Prue the evening did not quite live up to the anticipated billing. Not that she didn't enjoy herself, in fact in some ways the assumption of her sister's identity allowed Prudence to slough off the guilt of betraying her stricken husband. But on this particular occasion nothing came of the encounter.

However a different 'date' only a week later was another matter entirely because this second man turned her on from the first moment they met, so much so that she had already come quietly during the dessert course and by the time they were in a taxi travelling back to his loft apartment she was building towards another. In fact his performance was quite something so she was feeling well satisfied in the cab on her ride home.

...........

Prudence slept deeply and on the following morning had barely woken when she heard the disabled lift descending to the ground floor.

Muzzy but completely at peace with the world she wandered naked to the bathroom and came to a halt before the full height mirror. What was it about her body that had roused last nights 'date' to such prodigious feats of endurance?

Almost surely it was the thought of fucking Florence Grainger, star of TV and film, but perhaps her own body had contributed a little. Prue revolved before the glass and if anything decided that what she saw was at least equal to her twin, indeed the fitness regime which she religiously followed might even give Prue the edge in any beauty competition.

Her legs were long and shapely, toned but not excessively muscular, and her bottom was still firm. She still fitted into the same size 10 clothes as when she was a nervous teenager although her breasts were more a pert size 8 which meant shopping for clothes was always limited to the better quality stores. Did her hair need a trim? She would book a session later that morning to be safe.

After breakfast her husband waved a hand as he disappeared into his study and almost as if her sister knew to the minute when Prue could talk freely the mobile rang.

"How did it go last night?"

"Wonderfully," breathed Prue, "I came over and over again."

"This sounds very promising."

"He was very very good."

"Sadly I can't try him out, it would give the game away."

"We made another date."

"Do you think that was a good idea?"

"It's not for another three weeks because he's away on business. I'll just have to be patient."

"So shall I arrange another in the meantime?"

"No. I'll wait."

.............

Meanwhile in his study Prue's husband was deep in thought for something had changed in his long suffering wife. He could not put his finger on the precise alteration but maybe he did not want to consider the matter too deeply. However that was easier said than done and his mind continued to probe.

Had she found a way to deal with her imaginative sexual drive? Now that he considered the matter there was no way that she would have turned from a sexually needy woman into a nun.

He had assumed that maybe masturbation had become a regular part of her life, indeed he had taken care not to interfere with her private time, but perhaps she had now taken a lover. Did he care? Well of course he did. Would this mean that she would leave him? He hoped not. Perhaps if he ignored the signs then the status quo would not alter.

.............

Prudence unlike her sister and with the benefit of family money had until now felt no need to work but her burgeoning reputation as an artist was another matter.

Seemingly driven to sculpt Prudence had partially subsumed her sensual desires into art and the regular self induced orgasms could be easily fitted in with her creative outpourings. However her creations of late had begun selling at what she considered to be outrageous prices thanks to her gallery agent, in fact Prue was at present assembling a batch of work for an imminent show and was grateful for the peace of mind and body her recent escapade had provided.

Satisfied sexually Prue could concentrate on the many decisions needed and it was not until the work had been delivered to the gallery and the layout decided that desire returned.

This time Prue brought herself off in the shower while imagining being fucked by her soon to return 'lover' although that was not quite the best description of her recent fuck. But it would do as she shuddered to an orgasm which left her legs wobbly and her heart pounding.

In all the years of her husband's gradual decline she had not realised how much she had missed penetration by a live throbbing penis, particularly one wielded by a man who seemed so expert. Perhaps she should buy a battery operated dildo? Where did one do that? Did she remember passing a shop on the King's Road?

So after her hair appointment she found the place and after a moment of indecision finally plucked up courage to ask for advice before leaving with a package hidden in her capacious shoulder bag.

But first was the opening of her exhibition at which the twins were often mistaken for each other until the crowd of invitees realised that they were dressed differently and were then able to detect one from the other.

"You have excelled yourself this time my dear," said her husband from his wheelchair after noting that in this short space of time almost every piece had a sold sticker attached.

..............

But where to keep her new toy? In the studio of course. So in anticipation of her date that very night Prue tried it out. With legs akimbo and laid back in her favourite chair she put the slowly vibrating tip against her clit which in anticipation was already erect.