The Phoenix

I'd spent the whole meal struggling to tear my eyes away from my wife's stunning cleavage, presented gloriously by the oh-so-low cut red dress that was slashed to the navel. The tease was driving me mad, and she knew it. This was so unlike her - notwithstanding it being my birthday - and it had my libido on overdrive.

We crashed through our hotel room door, legs and tongues tangling, my hands clawing at the fabric, trying to unwrap my present. She was trying to eat me from the lips down, her hand cupping my aching cock and tearing at my belt. I pushed her against the wall, dry humping her thigh. She laughed, just enough to take a little heat out of the moment, so we could think rationally again.

"God, I wish I could fuck you right now," I begged, as we caught our breath and entered our suite proper.

"I know babe. I want you, too, so bad. Sorry I'm not healed in time for your birthday."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," I replied, kissing her forehead. "I love you, so much."

"Love you too," she replied. Then I noticed that twinkle in her eye. A look I'd not seen in so many years. A look that meant she'd had a naughty idea and couldn't wait to follow through on it.

"What?" I laughed, nervously.

"Let's play a game," she said. I raised an eyebrow, so she continued. "First, you're only allowed to say Yes or No. Okay?"

"Yes..."

"Good boy. Secondly, you're not allowed to touch me unless I tell you to. Keep your hands to yourself."

I pouted, but conceded. This was all rather out of character. She never took control in the bedroom, not like this. And given sex was off the table, I didn't know where this was heading. Still, it wasn't my rational brain doing the thinking anymore. She had me right by the cock and knew I'd do anything for the chance of an orgasm.

"Strip!" she ordered. She didn't have to tell me twice; most of my clothes were falling off anyway after our fumble in the hallway. Her eyes lingered on my painfully hard erection; she licked her lips, possibly involuntarily, and I saw fire burning in her pupils.

"Now lie down on the bed."

She picked my tie up from the floor and sashayed towards me. "Lean forwards," she ordered, so she could wrap the fabric round my head, covering my eyes. She tied it in a tight knot behind my head. "Can you see anything?"

"No."

"Good." I could hear her moving about the hotel room but had no idea what was happening. The tension, the anticipation, was unbearable. "Oi! Get your hands off your dick!" she shouted. I realised I'd started playing with myself. I folded my arms behind my head and waited.

"I'm just going to freshen up, then I'll be back for you," she purred.

I had no idea what she had in mind. But I couldn't wait to find out.

///

We met young, still teenagers, and fell helplessly in lust with each other. In those early years we were insatiable. We lived for sex, bringing each other pleasure as often and as powerfully as we could. No place or occasion was off-limits, no position was untried.

We were careful, but we were also wild. Inevitably she fell pregnant. We married in the spring, to the horror of our friends and family. You're too young, they said. But we loved each other, absolutely and completely. Baby Sophie brought us even closer together, tied us as a unit. We were so happy.

But Baby Jessica was a different matter. So many complications, both during and after the pregnancy. Jessica turned out to be a beautiful healthy baby, thank God. But we swiftly realised that "two kids are not twice as hard as one" was a lie. The girls were relentless, and we were exhausted.

Our sex life suffered. Firstly through tiredness, and then increasingly through health issues plaguing my wife, some arising from the pregnancy and birth complications, others possibly hereditary. And since we didn't want any more children, at least for now, my wife went on implant-based hormone birth control. After a typical drought period, I joked to her that I didn't realise the implant worked by destroying her sex drive.

She didn't find that funny.

Over the next few years, even after the girls were old enough not to require our constant attention, our sex life dwindled. Before the girls, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. Now, ten years later, we maybe had a mutual masturbation session two or three times a year. Intercourse had long since dried up. There was always an excuse - too tired, it'll make a mess, the girls will hear.

But also, she was in pain. Constant, driving pain. She covered it well and never complained. Doctors fobbed her off with excuses - just do more exercise, they said, to a woman holding down a full-time teaching job and chasing two energetic children round the house during evenings and weekends. I don't recall us ever sitting still until the evenings when the girls were asleep; maybe we had a glass or two of wine too many.

I guess I didn't realise how she suffered, at the time, until it was nearly too late. No wonder she didn't want me anywhere near her.

I was sad and frustrated. I loved her, totally and absolutely. The thought of cheating on her was repulsive. But God, I needed a fuck, so badly.

She'd tried to fool herself that it didn't matter. That love and sex weren't two sides of the same coin. And maybe for some women that's true. But it's not true of any man I know. And it wasn't true of us. We were drifting apart.

We had the argument, many times. Until eventually, she admitted she missed how passionate we used to be together. How she felt she was being a poor wife to me. How she felt she owed me sex, but just couldn't bring herself to do it.

I reassured her that she owed me nothing. That there must be a cause for her pain and lack of libido. That maybe this could be fixed, if she wanted.

The doctors were helpful, eventually. Libido was a typical casualty of the hormone birth control implants, so they'd remove it. But more serious was the damage to her pelvic region. There was really only one treatment option available - a significant operation, not usually offered to women as young as she was, but given the circumstances, it was all they could recommend.

///

It was a week or so before the operation. My wife had gone for a shower in the middle of the day, which was unusual - as was the time she was taking. After half an hour or so, I tapped on the door of the ensuite. "Are you okay in there?"

"Fine. Go away!" An unusually grumpy response.

"Are you sure? Can I get you anything?"

I could almost hear the sigh of frustration. "Okay, come in, but don't get any ideas."

She was still in the shower, shivering slightly. I tried not to notice her naked body, the globes of her fine ass glistening with water, and concentrated on her face.

"What's up?"

"I can't fucking reach properly," she complained. Then I noticed the razor in her hand. "I can't see what I'm doing."

Surely she wasn't... But she was!

I drew the story from her. She was embarrassed that the doctors were going to be looking at her furry pussy. We'd been married a long time, and sex didn't feature much for us, so we'd both given up maintaining standards of grooming that we'd've had when we were dating. I tried to reassure her that the medical staff wouldn't give a shit, but she was having none of it. She wanted to be all smooth and tidy for the operation.

"Do you need help?" I repeated, in as neutral a voice as I could manage.

Frustrated, she admitted that she did. On the condition that I behaved myself. "And don't get weird," she commanded. "This isn't a sex thing!"

It did seem odd that she couldn't manage this on her own, so I wasn't entirely sure of her motives. But I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to get naked with her in the shower, all wet and slippery, and run my hands over her most intimate areas. Even if I did have to try to be on my best behaviour. I stripped and got into the shower with her, knelt at her feet, turning the water off since it was spraying straight into my eyes. I was spending about 90% of my brainpower trying to stop my cock springing to attention. My eyes were mere inches from her pussy. I asked her to lift her leg, so I could access the area, while I completed what she'd started. I held the skin taut as I drew the razor across, removing wisps of hair from her lips, being oh so gentle so as not to nick her soft flesh. She turned the spray back on, holding the shower head low so I could rinse off the razor.

She watched me work. I maintained a professional manner throughout, despite overwhelming temptation. Her smooth skin, so touchable, under my fingertips, inches from my face. Surely she could feel my eyes burning into that sensitive flesh, now revealed in all its glory? It wouldn't take much, just a small leaning over, and my tongue could dance over her...

"All done," I said. "Here, let me rinse you off." I took the shower head and began to sweep some stray bristles from her skin. The effect on her was electric, her eyes bugged out and mouth dropped open.

"Oh, my god..." she said. "That feels..." And she snatched the shower from my hand and took over, directing the water straight at her shaved pussy, grabbing the head and switching to the pulse setting. Water blasting and pounding her clit, her legs started to shake and her eyes rolled back.

I stood, spooning her from behind, as she quivered and moaned. My cock slithered into the crack of her ass, and I held her round the waist, my other hand grabbing at her slick tits, as she looked back at me over her shoulder. I leant in and we kissed, tongues tangling, as the water pressure brought her closer. "Feel," she begged, pulling my hand down to her newly smooth skin. My fingers explored her, not afraid any more of her reaction, sliding deep inside her warmth and then stroking over her bare lips and through them to her clit. In moments, the torrent of weather blasted her over the edge, and I took her weight as the orgasm crashed through her.

Once her legs could support her again, she smiled at me, then pressed down on my shoulders. I kissed my way down her wet naked body, caressing her full breasts on my way to my final destination. My mouth explored her, the incredible sensation of baby soft skin rather than hair. I sucked her lips, burrowed my tongue into her, with her pussy still twitching from the end of the orgasm. I sucked at her, looking up into her eyes, seeing the love returned in hers.

Presently, she beckoned me back up. "Your turn," she said, and knelt in my place, taking the soap in hand, and working it over my cock and balls. Slowly, gently, she shaved me - shaft, pelvis, sack - until I was also as smooth and hairless as she was. I have never been so hard, her face that close to me, her hands caressing me.

"Please," I begged, and saw her smile. Without a word, without taking her eyes off mine, she began to kiss the base of my cock, sliding her lips along my shaft, licking along the flesh she had revealed. She purred as she explored me with her mouth. By the time she slid her lips over my tip, I was already leaking. But she didn't care, for once. She made love to my dick with her mouth, kissing and licking and sucking me all over, taking my balls gently into her mouth and rolling them oh so carefully on her tongue.

"You feel so different," she said between slurps. "And you look fucking massive!" She slid her mouth over me, down and down, until I caught in the back of her throat. She pulled my hands into her hair, knowing I couldn't stop myself... I fucked her face, pulling her over me, forcing those final inches down her throat, watching her eyes bug and water as her lips splayed round the root of me, with no more left to give her. I felt her push out her tongue and lick my balls with my cock buried completely in her mouth and throat.

"God, I love you," I said, releasing her head. She slid back, smiling around my dick, as she wrapped her first round my base.

"Show me," she said, beating me off, pointing my cock at her pretty face.

"I'm so close," I warned her.

"I should hope so," she said, lifting her wet tits with her spare hand. "Do it baby. Mess me up!"

My balls needed no further encouragement, and I jerked rope after rope of thick sticky cum all over my beautiful horny wife's face and tits.

"Yeah, that's it babe. Come for me! Give it to me!"

I just came and came, legs trembling but still just about taking my weight. She slowed the pace on my dick as the semen flow subsided and I started to soften. She got back on her feet and stood before me, my cum still running down her cheeks and over her heavy breasts. My face fell to hers and we kissed again, lips locked and tongues dancing, as we used the hose to clean her off.

She dragged me out of the shower back into the bedroom and pushed me backwards onto the bed.

"I thought you said this wasn't a sex thing?" I mocked her.

"Shut up and eat me," she demanded, squatting over my face, and lowering that freshly shaved pussy back onto my mouth. Hungrily I reached for her and took the smooth flesh back between my lips. She leant forward and took my dick back into her own mouth, licking and sucking me back to attention.

"God, it feels so good, not choking on your damn pubes," she said, slathering my dick with her saliva, feasting on my cock in a way she hadn't since we first met. We should have shaved each other years ago, I thought.

When I was hard and ready again, she climbed off, crawled on all fours across the bed and looked at me over her shoulder. "Come on then, what are you waiting for? If this is our last chance for a few months, make it good. Fuck me 'til I can't walk!"

I didn't need telling twice. Standing behind her, I plunged my cock inside her, to the hilt, grabbed her hips and pounded her doggie-style, feeling our shaved skin rub against each other, a wonderful new sensation of softness, the sense of touch heightened.

We were still making love as the sun came up, slower paced but unable to stop touching each other. It would indeed be the last time for a long time.

///

We went through a private hospital for the hysterectomy, so that it was done faster and she'd have a more comfortable recovery. But it meant total abstinence from sex for six to eight weeks, the surgeon explained, all apologetic. And, slightly embarrassed, he explained that included anal sex.

I had to laugh. Even six to eight months wouldn't be a challenge based on our current batting average. Other than that wild shower session, it was possibly two years since we'd had any kind of penetrative sex. Anal? You must be kidding.

Recovery was slow. She hates sitting around doing nothing. Maybe she pushed herself too much too soon.

It was my birthday a couple of months after the op. We'd booked ourselves a dirty weekend hotel break, to start getting ourselves back to how we wanted to be. So, when the physio admitted that 6-8 weeks was a "best case" scenario, and it could take three to six months to recover... We were not impressed.

But I had noticed a change in her attitude. She was smiling a lot more. There was still pain, but different - manageable, and expected due to the op. She had a bounce in her step, and the lights were back on behind her eyes.

One morning she made a point of making me notice she was wearing a thong. I couldn't remember the last time she wore sexy underwear - or drew attention to it. "Don't get any ideas," she said, "I just felt like it today." But I couldn't stop staring at her ass all day in those tight jeans. When I tentatively grabbed at her in the kitchen, expecting the usual brush-off or irritated snap in response, she instead wrapped into my arms and crushed her body against mine.

"I've missed you," she said, snaking her arms behind my head.

"Welcome back," I breathed, as our lips met and we fell into the first French kiss we'd shared in weeks. My hands stroked across the tight denim on her peachy ass, and my cock almost exploded. It was the most action it had seen for ages, other than at my own hand. The prospect of actual sex was real, tangible...

Suddenly the future didn't seem so bleak.

///

I heard the hotel bathroom door open. The tie felt tight over my eyes, but it meant my other senses were heightened.

"Hey, lover," she purred. I heard a dull flutter - possibly a red dress falling to the floor - and felt the bed move as she climbed onto the end. "God, what a cock," she moaned, as I felt her crawl up towards my groin. "Fuck, I want that inside me so bad."

"No..." I said. The surgeon had been most insistent. She was still healing - there were stitches, and we could easily cause damage, or infection.

"I know, but... I'm so horny..." she whined.

My cock twitched, impossibly becoming even harder, hearing her talk in a way she'd not spoken for so long.

"I've got to... Just..." she panted, and I could feel her breath on the damp tip of my dick. Felt her deft fingers close around my base and her lips wrap around the head. I so desperately wanted to see her face as she slid her mouth along my hard length... I reached for the tie, but heard her muffled reproach, and put my hands back behind my head.

Even back in the day, she wasn't a great fan of giving head. Certainly she never instigated it. She had a problem with the sticky mucus getting caught in her throat and choking her. But that said, if she was turned on enough - like that last desperate time in the shower - then anything goes. When we were using her vibrator in foreplay, or if I were fingering her in just the right way, she'd beg me to "do whatever you want" - which was code for me to kneel over her face so she could eagerly swallow my cock. She'd go absolutely savage on my dick, spit and saliva everywhere, stopping herself breathing so she could fit me right into her throat and meet my balls with her lips. She'd be squirting and spitting, primeval with pleasure, and it would last right until she came like thunder or I leaked too much precum, at which point she'd push me away, gasping.

Which made this all the more extraordinary. For her to have initiated oral was unprecedented. She must have been driven utterly wild by desire... which was not the woman I'd known for many years. My heart lifted with the hope that this might be a permanent return of the horny angel I fell in love with.

Sadly, the blowjob didn't last. "You didn't want me to stop, do you?" she asked.

"No."

"I know. And do you know what - I didn't want to, either. Part of me wanted to know what it would be like, to feel you spurt off in my mouth. To watch your face as I took your load between my lips. But then this would be over, and I don't want it to be over." She kissed my cock, and I could feel her panting breath on my damp skin.

Since there was no appropriate yes/no response, I said nothing, although I may have moaned slightly.

She kept talking. She hadn't been much of a talker, before. Other than a bit of grunting, and the usual "oh yeah oh god oh fuck" kind of thing. Neither of us had gone in for dirty talk all that much since our mouths were usually busy on other things. But today, for some reason, she felt the need to express desires I didn't realise she still had. I wasn't complaining.

She squatted over my hips, and I felt her lower herself onto my erection, flat and hard against my abdomen. Slowly she nestled my hardness between her soft shaved lips, rubbing against me. She began to rock back and forth, wanking me between her pussy lips, her saliva having made me slick and slippery.

"Do you remember doing this when we were kids? Grinding our jeans together so I could leap back off if your mum came into your room suddenly?"

I remembered. She was such a fucking tease when we were teenagers. I'd begged her, over and over, to wear a skirt or dress so she could just sit on my cock. But I'd never have tucked myself away in time when my ever-suspicious mother crept up the stairs. In the cinema, however, it had been a different matter. How we never got thrown out, I have no idea.