The Sailor's Wife Ch. 02

"Your panties, too?"

"Yes, he'd take them both off."

"Then what, after you're naked?"

"Then he'd start kissing me down there." And Glenn went down on her, licking her clitoris, bringing her closer to eruption.

"Keep going, tell me what he'd do to you."

"Well, then," she gasped, "I'd say, 'let's go into the bedroom.' I'd get up, and he'd follow me in. On the way he'd take off his clothes." She was close, so very close, and she took a few minutes to experience the pleasure. Glenn kept eating her, pushing his tongue into her as far as it would go, then tickling her clit, until at last she felt the passion burst. For long seconds she writhed and Glenn kept with her, licking the button and once again forcing a finger into her in simulation of intercourse. Steph groaned, enjoying the way Glenn was touching her, remembering the other man. When his wife's breathing slowed he knew that he could stop, and so he moved up beside her and began to kiss her.

She responded, and for nearly five minutes they spooned, holding each other tightly. Stephanie thought the game was over, and was glad - she wasn't sure she could go on. But then Glenn said, "So, there you are in the bedroom with him. What would happen next?"

Suddenly Steph remembered the experience, how she'd pulled the covers down, laid on her back, and soon, without additional foreplay, he'd climbed on top of her, entered her and brought himself off. She hadn't come, hadn't even come close. But this time, since she was able to decide what her dream was like, she choose a different reality.

"I pull the covers down, and I make him lay down." She pushed Glenn on his back. "And then, I get to feel what he's like down there."

"Is he big?"

"He's huge. He's so big I can barely get my hand around it. So I use two hands, and he's long, too." By this time, she was stroking Glenn just as she was doing to her mythical lover. "I like doing that to him, and then I start sucking on him." And she did that to Glenn, too. He was already hard again, thinking about what another man would do to his wife, and when he felt the lips around the tip of his prick, he started groaning. She went deep on him, letting it go back into her throat as far as she could without gagging, then bobbing her head up and down, letting Glenn get stiffer and stiffer. But then, when he was as rigid as he was going to get, and she tasted the first telltale drops of cum, she stopped, and started licking the side of his prick. "But he's so big, and so long, that I can't do that to him for very long. So then I get on top of him," she straddled her husband, "and then I let him FUCK me!"

This was the first time she'd ever used the word with Glenn, or anyone else, the first time he'd ever heard her use any profanity. It affected them both the same way, and she ground her pelvis on his, making his dick fill her slit as much as it would.

"And he'd fuck me and fuck me and fuck me and fuck me," she screamed. And she did fuck Glenn, and soon they were both coming together, he spewing his sperm deep into her womb, and she pushing down onto his prick, screaming in ecstasy. When he was done, she was still orgasming, and he grabbed her hips and helped her move on top of him. At long last she was through, and she collapsed on top of her real lover, forgetting about the mythological creature she'd conjured.

"That was so good, baby," he cooed. And they laid together, feeling the others nakedness on their skin, enjoying the intimacy of the afterglow.

Glen broke the spell. "Can I tell you something I've been thinking about?" He felt her nod in the darkness. "You know how you said that I could go see some of the girls overseas? Well, I don't think it would be so bad that if you wanted to, maybe you could invite a guy over once or twice."

"You mean, for sex?" she responded, a little dumbfounded.

"Yeah. Not a whole bunch or anything, and not too often, but one or two guys, it wouldn't hurt, I guess. It's not like everyone else isn't doing it."

For a long time they laid there, holding each other, considering the cusp they'd just passed. Stephanie remembered the three times she'd been with another man, and she wanted to tell Glenn about it, to confess her sins. Just as she was about to unburden herself, she heard the unmistakable sound of a snore emanate from Glenn's throat, and she decided against it.

The next day, the last weekend day they'd have together for three-quarters of a year, they drove to a park on the base for a crew family picnic. This traditional get-together was a time when the sailors could meet the women their wives would be spending all their time with while they were gone. In the past, Stephanie had taken it as an opportunity to show Glenn she'd have chaperones, but this time the gathering had a different atmosphere. Somehow, the women seemed to be more skimpily dressed, more seductive. The couples held each other, clinging to their lovers, but Steph wondered how many of the men would be visiting the brothels in their ports of call. And then she recalled the gossip she'd heard about some of the wives, how it was rumored that they had boyfriends on the other ships that docked while the carrier was gone, or sweethearts on the shore. She wondered if anyone suspected she'd already joined that group.

In the evening they returned to their apartment. She could tell he was excited, ready. "I caught you looking at some of the wives at the picnic."

"No, I wasn't. Really, honey," he protested,

"Yes you were." She tickled him, letting him know she wasn't angry, didn't mind he had thought about them. "You were checking Betty out, weren't you?" Betty was large breasted bleached blonde, she'd worn a tight T-shirt to the party, and clearly she hadn't worn a bra. The gossip was that she screwed around like a rabbit when her husband was at sea. "You'd like to see what Betty has under her shirt wouldn't you?"

He still wasn't sure of himself - they played sex games so rarely that he didn't trust her, wasn't positive it was safe to admit that he'd like to give attentions to another woman, just for variety or fun. "I don't know," he meekly responded.

"Sure you do," Steph teased. "She has the biggest tits of any of us, hasn't she?" As she played with him, with his mind, she knelt on the floor in front of the couch and unzipped his pants. As she expected, the thoughts of another woman excited him. "You'd like her to do this to you wouldn't you?" He just watched her take his pants off him, and then strip her own shirt and bra off. "You want to feel her big boobs, don't you?" Steph cupped his hand, and placed her own breast in it, a smaller substitute for the other woman. "And then you'd like her to put her tits all around you, wouldn't you?" She encircled his dick with her own mounds, began to rub it with the smoothness of her breastbone. Every third or fourth stroke, she'd lean down and give the tip a little lick, exciting him further. For a few seconds, she took the tool completely into her mouth, and used the opportunity to take off his shirt. He assisted, pulling it over his head.

She stood up, unzipped her jeans and let them drop to the floor. She stood in front of him, playing with her panties, pulling them down and then up again. "What do you think she'd look like down there?"

For the first time, Glenn joined in the repartee. "She'd have just a little bit of hair."

"I saw her once, in the showers." It was a complete fabrication, but Stephanie told the story with such conviction that Glenn believed her. "She's blonde down there, too. Just a little peach fuzz." Steph's panties joined the jeans, and Glen gazed at her body, completely naked, except for the wedding band. "You'd like it if she sat on top of you, wouldn't you?"

He grabbed for her, and pulled her down. He fondled the breast, suckled on it. "Yeah, baby, suck on her tit. She really likes it when you do that. Do you want to put your hand down there, feel Betty's pussy?" Another word she'd never used! His hand descended, and began to feel his wife's, or was it Betty's? cunt. It excited Stephanie that her man was thinking about doing it to another woman. Glenn held his hand there, and she gyrated on top of it, exciting herself, coming dangerously close to release as she felt the finger in her pussy and the mouth at her nipple. "You'd like to stick your cock into her, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I want to screw her."

"Then do it baby." She reached down, positioned the prick at her entrance, and lowered herself onto him, feeling his rod impale her. "Screw her, baby, screw her hard." In the kneeling position, Steph could control the movements, could position herself so that with each descending motion she could irritate just the perfect portion of her insides with the dick filling her up. Combined with Glenn's biting on her right nipple, and his pinching her left, she soon felt the wash of relief begin deep within her cervix, spreading down to her toes and up through her breasts to the edge of her neck, making the small hairs on her back tingle with excitement. She was coming, a huge come, and for a few seconds she forgot about Betty, about Glenn, and let herself be satiated with pleasure.

For once, Glenn held off his own passion, thinking about anything other than Betty, or Stephanie, or naked women. He let her go, let her move anyway she wanted to, and when he saw that her spasms were beginning to calm, he pushed her off him.

"But then," he began, "when she'd had enough of that, I'd put her on the couch, put her legs over my shoulders and do it to her some more." And he positioned Steph to his whim, and kneeling on the floor in front of her he pierced her again, this time driving to his own rhythm, moving up and down for maximum friction on the head of his prick. Stephanie was still excited, and as he screwed her, she gasped in torment, in rapture. Soon he was joining her, releasing into her, letting her have everything his loins could produce. He didn't stop until every drop of his spunk filled her deeply in the act of love.

He fell to the floor, sweaty and fatigued, and Stephanie joined him as soon as she was able to. "You liked the idea of screwing Betty, didn't you?"

"Sort of," he admitted cautiously.

"Don't kid me, you'd screw her in a second if you could, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I guess I would."

"And honey, listen, if you ever get the chance to, go ahead. I want you to, to... fuck... her if you can. You've never had any woman but me, have you?"

"No."

"But you're wondering what it would be like, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, you should find that out sometime. Promise me something?"

"What."

"When you get over there, promise me you'll take a prostitute to bed. Okay?"

"You really want me to?"

"Yes, I don't want you to feel like you've missed something."

He kissed her. "She won't be as good as you are. You're great."

"But she'll be different. And, Glenn, listen to me. Are you sure you won't be upset if I go to bed with somebody else?"

"Do you want to?"

"A little bit. I wonder what it would be like, too." She held her breath, waiting for the answer. If he said yes, her conscience would be salved, relieved. And if he said no? What would she do then?

"If you need to, honey, go ahead. But just a couple of times, okay?"

The next afternoon, Glenn got off early, a parting gift from his chief, and they spent the day walking through Oakland, stopping into a pizza palace for a maudlin dinner, holding each other tightly while they watched television together for a very long time. Three or four times Stephanie was on the brink of explaining to Glenn how she'd jumped the gun, how other men had already visited their bed. But each time she tried, words failed her at the last moment, and finally they were making love for the last time.

Early in the morning, Steph prepared a final breakfast for Glenn as he donned his blue uniform, and then they were off to the Naval base. As they drove through the tunnel to Alameda, Glenn turned to Steph and said, "Honey? You know how we sort of agreed to..."

"Yes," she responded, understanding the subject completely. "Do you not want to do that after all?" What would she do if he changed his mind?

"No, that's not it. But honey, if you do decide to do anything, don't tell me till it's all over, okay?"

Once again, Steph felt a need to placate her husband, to make him feel as if he was the only man in the world. "Don't worry, honey, I could never do that with anyone else."

She walked him from the parking lot to the dock, and they kissed one last time before he walked up the gangway. She stood there for an hour, waiting for the huge ropes to be cast off, for the tugs to begin pushing the ship out to sea. Three or four times she caught a glimpse of Glenn waving at her, and she silently wished him 'Godspeed.'

When the carrier was turned and well out of the harbor, Stephanie began the long walk back to the car.

Once again, loneliness descended upon her spirit.

To be continued