The List Pt. 01

"Between last night and this morning, I've had four unbelievable orgasms, Mike. I've never really had one before, nothing more than a little shudder. I didn't know what to look for, didn't know where to go to get it ... I don't mean from you, I mean from inside me. How pathetic is that?"

"It was nice Jude, it was great."

"I didn't sleep last night. I thought a lot about how I've cheated you, how I've cheated myself and what I can do about it. I want you to go where you want sexually, I owe you that and I want you to bring me with you." She turned around on me and hugged me. "I'm a sexual human being, Mike, I didn't know that until last night but I am. We have all those wasted years; I'll make them up to you. Count on it, OK?"

When she pulled on the panties she was grinning excitedly, grinning like a little kid with a new present. The bra the same. After she adjusted it she stood boldly in front of me and said, "What do you think?"

"Honestly?" I said. "I think you should let your bra out a little, I like your tits to hang down a little more."

"Seriously?" She looked at me like she thought I was kidding. I wasn't so, uncertainly, she did let it out a bit, then a bit more when I suggested it. She looked in the mirror, curiously. "Is this really the way you want them? They're so floppy, I like to pull them up."

"Do you care what I think?"

She turned and faced me. "Of course I do."

"Then there are going to be some changes."

She tried to read me but she's never been able to do that. Where once she might have looked away, confused, now she grinned, now she came over and kissed me. After she dressed and was leaving for church she looked over her shoulder and wiggled her wonderful little ass and laughed as she left.

Seconds later she came back into the room, picked up her panties from the floor and threw them on the bed. "Just in case." She didn't laugh at this, she stuck out her tongue.

I had been slowly flogging, replaying all the exquisite moments of the night and morning when a few minutes later I heard her come back. I put the panties back where she had thrown them and turned over and pretended to sleep.

I could hear her taking off her clothes, then she was getting into bed. I opened my eyes and looked into her's. "I'm unbelievable, aren't I? I finally find myself, finally start making it happen and I get out of your bed to go to church. There is no hope for me."

"Yes there is." I now did physically what I had been doing in my head only moments before. I turned around and slid my face down along her taunt muscular belly and pushed my lips along the slick sheen of her warm panties, lightly biting and licking and thanking God when she encouraged me to turn around and she nestled in and took me in her mouth.

I could feel the heat of her crotch against my face, the heat of her ass in the palms of my hands as I squeezed her into me. I had never been on her like this before, it felt strange, foreign, as if I was with a different woman. I had fucked the pussy just below my lips many times over the years but until last night always the same way and always with the same indifference except before I was always fucking the tunnel that would deliver my kids (kids that I was never sure I actually wanted) and now it was a tunnel to nothing but a great emptiness in her. I peeled her panties back and kissed the pink within the great black forest, then I stuck my tongue in and then my lips and I sucked to send her a message ... but of what? "Help me here, Jude. What do you want me to do?"

"Take my underwear off." When I did she opened her legs wider. "Lick my clitoris ... yes, yes, yes, now faster ... yes, yes ... pinch it with your lips ... harder ... yes ... put a finger in me ... ... further ... ... harder ... curl it up ... yes, there, there ... oh, fuck, Mike." I brought my other hand up behind her and licked a finger, hooked it into her and scooped for some juices then I brought it down and forced it it between the tight little cheeks of her spectacular ass.

She squealed, I thought I hurt her. "Is it OK?"

"Oh, fuck, Mike."

I pulled back and worked my fingers deeper into her. Her hips were bouncing off the bed, she was almost screaming, it was a sound I had never heard before, it was getting louder and louder as she fucked at my fingers harder and harder and then she moaned once and slumped and I could tell she was done.

But I wasn't. I pulled my finger from her ass and cunt and raked her pubic hair, admiring her thin, strong thighs. It astonished me that I had never really looked at her before.

"Oh, God, Mike that was fucking fabulous."

She was still limp. I turned her over and kissed, licked and bit around her ass as she moaned in pleasure, then I spread her cheeks wide, spit in her with a great stream of saliva that seemed to have been accumulating all night then I went at her asshole with my tongue, the asshole buried deep between the two spectacular cheeks that must have been turning heads for years.

It was the perversion of it that made me lose it, that my face, my mouth, my lips, my tongue where in a forbidden place that I was licking and kissing and sucking as I got up on my knees and grabbed my cock and succumbed to the images I had in the store, the picture in my mind's eye of this unbelievable ass sliding into a pair of pale yellow panties.

When I felt it coming I aimed it at her cheeks and splashed my cum on them knowing that no one else on earth could do this. Then I collapsed beside her and gave it to her in a loud, almost angry voice. "If you think I can watch that thing all these years and not want to do that you're fucking crazy." I hoped that would be enough to subdue her shock. It wasn't.

Immediately, she rose up on her side and shot back in a voice every bit as loud and angry as mine. "If you think we can live together and you're not going to do that to me, you're fucking crazy." Then she climbed on me and kissed me until I put my cock in her and she settled down on me. "To think we could have been doing this for the past ten years. We're fucking crazy, Mike, we're two of the dumbest people on the planet."

"Late bloomers, but we can finish well."

"Do you want to fuck me there?"

"In the worse way."

"I'll get some gel, I think you need it but if it's anything like the finger ..."

"How about the tongue."

"The whole fucking thing was unbelievable."

"You've got a great body, Jude, I wish I had explored it a long time ago."

"You might have if I ... Ah, fuck, Mike, I'm just so fucking sorry."

I kissed her long and deep and, perhaps for the first time ever, with passion and I could feel the body above me throb.

My wife had never been fun, not in any frivolous sense. But she was now. When she adjusted another of her bras as I looked on, she seemed to be glowing. "God, I just feel so different now, so unbelievably fucking different. I just want to be shouting out to the world: I'm a cocksucker, I've been eaten, he's licked my ass for fuck's sake, licked my ass!"

She turned around and draped her arms around my neck and pressed her head into my chest; she was positively glowing. "Let's go downtown. Let's be with people — I just feel so fucking alive."

She was still laughing as I drove downtown, I mean, the woman seemed to have gone through a total transformation. In the car she started verbally filling in the list. 'Blow job, check — I probably wasn't any good at it but I'll get better, practice makes perfect. Pussy eaten, check — room for improvement but a fabulous start. Bath together, check — fabulous, too, showers are next. Kissing, check — real kissing with tongue and spit and noise, check — I just so fucking loved that. And ass licking, I never even knew people did that ..."

"I didn't either, it just happened, I've always loved your ass ..."

"That's an unbelievable sensation, I mean, jeez ...

"How about the panty thing?"

"I just don't get how I got that so wrong, I mean, what was my problem with all of this? I don't get it. Do you?"

"It wasn't just you, Jude, it was just as much my fault."

"But what was going on? Do you know?"

"I think we lacked imagination, lacked adventure. I think we never really got into each other ..."

"God, no kidding."

I went for the truth now because I wanted her to know it. "I never much liked your body; it was always so remote ..."

"God, no kidding, I never liked it either, I didn't know it could do any of these things ..."

"It was always just your body, I never felt it was mine until I was in that underwear store and I imagined your ass in all those panties and your tits in all those bras and I just kind of lost it. I masturbated the next morning thinking about it; it was the best orgasm of my life — I went back to that store the next day to buy more of them and bras — I was going to have a lifetime of it, jacking-off with your panties, your smells, then shooting into them — that first time was the first truly sexual moment of my life."

"And I wasn't there."

"Your image was, I was imagining you, Jude."

She undid her seat belt and before I knew what she was doing she was lying down, rummaging through my shorts for my erect cock and in seconds had it in her mouth. I didn't stop her. I pulled over to the curb, pushed my hand up under her shirt so I could cup her breast and I watched her head bob up and down and for the first time ever I felt real love for the woman.

Her nipples were like little tents when she sat up, licking her lips as she put her belt back on again. A smile grew on her face. "There's a little bit of a slut in me, isn't there?"

"I hope so," I laughed. I was feeling great, really calm ... I was debating whether to thank her — whether that was the proper thing to do after a blow job or just expect it. She interrupted my thoughts.

"Let's not go back, Mike. I never want to go back there. Let's keep up the list, put more things on it, everything we can think of — I'll leave the list out, we'll put things on it whenever it occurs to us, anything, then we'll talk about it, see if we want to do it, things like phone sex ... where did that come from anyway?"

I laughed again, this time at the memory and I told her about my visits to the women's store, how I mentioned to an older woman there that our marriage was in trouble so we were starting a list of things to do to enliven it ... that it was her who suggested the hotel and dinner and the negligee and that she also suggested the phone sex, the bondage and fantasies and role playing.

She asked me where the store was. I told her. She grinned. "I'm going there tomorrow. I'm going to thank her."

"Buy some things."

She grinned. "Oh, God, don't worry."

We walked around for a few hours, stopping for lunch, stopping for a coffee and stopping occasionally to watch the people. She liked it every bit as much as I did, maybe more because she was the one who started the comments. The first one was, "I wonder if she's any good in bed?" She was talking about a fairly plain woman who seemed to exude sex appeal.

"I'd bet on it," I speculated.

She indicated a skinny one. "How about her?"

"Doubt it."

She objected, "Why, because she's skinny?"

I knew she was identifying with her. "No, because of the way she's dressed. It looks to me like she doesn't like herself very much."

Judy looked at her hard, trying to see what I saw. "Ya, maybe."

I motioned towards a woman. "That's the way you want to dress if you like yourself, if you like your body, if you think you're sexy."

She saw immediately who I was talking about but didn't say anything.

"You could pull that off."

She still didn't say anything.

"Study her, Jude because that look is going on the list."

She could have checked off 'touch, feel, cuddle and kiss,' too. For the next two weeks whenever we got into any proximity, that's about all we did. And there was nothing forced about it; it was as natural as two new lovers. And we missed the news every night and not just for sex but for talk, too and just to be under the sheets together. Finally, we had connected.

Oddly, we didn't keep up the list, neither of us did, that came up one night about two weeks later when she brought the list to bed with us.

"Put on 'the look,' OK? You don't have to wear it, but we could talk about it."

"It's a bit slutty."

"It tells everyone what you're telling me these days. I like that message, it looks good on you."

"Like the drooping bra?"

"You wear tight pants, you like your ass, I'm just saying I like that look: I like to see a little bra under your shirt, a little drooping bra and I like to see the straps, I think that's really neat: you're telling the world 'I think I'm hot' and I think you are. You wanted me to put things on that list? Well, I'm putting that on the list, not just for me but because I think you'll look really good in it, too. You'd project the new you."

"A bit slutty," she repeated, unsure of herself.

I was getting just a little testy. "I like you a fuck of a lot better that way than the librarian look you so obviously mastered."

"For work, too?"

"It's the look, Jude. You'd tone it down for work but it would be there because that's the new you you'd want to be projecting ... or not, it's up to you."

"But that's what you want."

"It's what I think ... it's who I think you'd like to be. You call it slutty, I call it sexy — not many can pull it off, but you could, so why not?"

"I'm not going to look like I'm trying too hard?"

"Nope, it'll be a little weird at first but in a couple of weeks you'll own it."

There was something else I wanted to add to the list but it wasn't time yet to bring it up so I went with two other ideas I had dreamed up, two ideas that would have been completely ludicrous a few weeks ago but now I actually thought I might want. I told her I want us to get more exercise, wanted to build more of it into my day. I thought we could start biking together, we had done a little of it once, we could start doing it again, a few times a week, maybe join a club — it's great exercise.

She pounded me on the shoulder. "Great idea but I'll need a new bike ..."

"Ya," I laughed, "and all those tight clothes."

And she liked the other idea I suggested, too: that we take a course together, talk about it, decide what we might like to take — if she had the time and interest.

She kissed me for that one, kissed me and climbed on me and told me how much she loved the idea, and me, and life, and herself, her new self. Ya, no, if the object of this game was to connect, we were there.

We had just got in the car for the trip home. "They were talking about you, Jude. Every one of them — you were a star."

We had gone over to a friend's house for a BBQ. She didn't really want to, that was clear, but I wanted her to, I didn't demand it or anything like that, I just said I'd like her to put on the t-shirt. Yes, you could see the bra hinted at beneath it and a bra strap was visible and the bra itself was a bit more droopy than usual and, ya, the pants were tight, like really tight but ...

She has developed a mischievous grin which grew now. "I could feel them looking at me ... it was so not me."

Her grin was contagious. "How did it make you feel?"

"Hot, amazingly hot — like a new girl."

"How hot?"

"Jeez, Mike," she squirmed on the seat, "can't you drive any faster?"

"Touch yourself, Jude." I had no idea if she would, but I wanted her to. "Take your pants down and touch yourself."

She looked over at me in shock. "What? Here? Now?"

"Do it. I'll put it on the list: 'Jude masturbates in car driving home from a party ... feeling her breast." I thought the feeling the breast bit might be over-kill but she might not have even heard it, she was pushing down her pants and when she kicked them off her panties were next, they looped around an ankle.

"They were watching you, Jude, every one of them, they were watching the way you moved. You're beautiful the way you move, like a dancer with that spectacular ass and those fabulously floppy tits. Dan was drooling. If he thought you'd say yes, he would have ripped your clothes right off you. So would Frank, they all would. It's fantastic, they're imagining how you're fucking me. The girls were jealous. Did you see Ann? Margaret?"

"Oh, God, Mike!" Her fingers were flying against her clit, her mouth was sagging open, her eyes were almost bugging out and then it started to come, she started to whimper, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

It wasn't long before she was slumping on the seat looking at her fingers glistening with cum ... she looked at them for a long time. "Jesus, I love being your slut, Mike. I can't tell you how turned on I was all night."

"You were glowing, Jude. It was beautiful to see."

She bent down and pulled off the panties from around her ankle. She sat up and looked at them. "It all started with these, didn't it?" She leaned down, put them on, put her pants back on, did them up and her seatbelt then relaxed back into the seat, exhaling air as if feeling a great relief. "I had lunch with Alice on Friday. She was talking about my new look. She said she likes to fool around a little and she'd love to fool around with me ... if I wanted it. I was shocked of course but jeez, if she asked me tonight I don't know what I would say."

I let this sink in and waited for her to add more. She didn't. "Do you think you'd like to?"

She didn't answer for the longest time. "I think I want to find my boundaries, Mike. I don't have any idea where they are but I think I'd like us to start looking for ... our boundaries."

It was the commitment in her voice as much as the message that got to me. "I'll put that on the list, just under the one where 'Jude masturbates in car:' 'we look for our sexual boundaries.' What do you want to put down as a Due date?"

She was tired, I could feel it as much as see it. "Just put down 'Begin immediately.'

Because I had to drive home I didn't have much to drink at the party so I had a couple of beers while Judy took a long bath. I thought about her and what a star she had been all night: happy, effusive, sexy, quick to laugh, always smiling — always sending out a message: I'm mysterious and I'm hot, or that's the way it looked to me. I was proud of her, really proud of her — revealing to me that I hadn't been in the past. It was as if she had come out of the closet and was hugely happy about it.

And I thought about how I had totally changed my opinion of her ... and that after a single frantic evening of sex — that one night changed my opinion of a woman I had known virtually my entire life. But then, she had changed, she had changed so dramatically I couldn't even remember the woman I married.

A ball game I had PVR'd was playing when she came in with very pink skin under a simple silky little nightie that clung to her in a way that seemed to conceal nothing. She flopped down on the chair opposite me. "Do I tell you when I masturbate? I just did, in the bath ... I was thinking of the way John was looking at me; I thought of what Alice said to me; I thought of what I did in the car and how you wanted me to do it, and I thought of all of the times with you and I couldn't help myself. I'm thinking sex 24/7 these days." She looked at me for an answer.

"And how do you feel about that?" I wondered, because she didn't look happy.

"I'm totally fucked up, Mike. I have no idea who I am any more. Your average 13-year-old knows more about herself than I do. Why didn't you stick your hand down my pants back then? Seriously. Why?" She looked totally frustrated, her vulnerability was a bit of a turn on.

"It wasn't that kind of relationship."

"I know it wasn't that kind of relationship, that's what I'm saying. Why wasn't it that kind of relationship? It was that kind of relationship for everybody else."