The Sailor's Wife

For over ten minutes she stayed immersed in rapture, allowing herself satisfaction after satisfaction. A change of pressure deep within her indicated her partner was coming; and still she rolled on. His stiffness began to decline; but she didn't care as long as he continued to play with her breasts. She kept on with her finger. Five more minutes passed, perhaps ten. His penis was too soft to be useful. She dropped to the bed on her back, still fingering herself. The boy tried to help her, kissing her face and flesh and rubbing her. His finger found its way into her sloppy pussy, bringing on yet another explosion. For the first time in twenty minutes, Stephanie pried her damp finger away from her genitals and allowed herself to surrender to the ministrations of her partner. For another five minutes, she shook with delight as Chuck used his finger to poke her to intense gratification. At last the intensity of her emotions subsided and the touch at her opening took on a gentler, soothing motion. She allowed herself to return to the world.

"Are you okay?" he asked, a concerned look on his young face.

"Better than you know," she panted. "Thanks. You were great. I really appreciate you staying with me like that. It was just what I needed."

She cuddled up to him, and allowed him to hold her. They'd both reached contentment, and she found the cravings within her soul and loins temporarily appeased. Slumber swept over the lovers.

Steph woke first, to a room in which darkness had descended. Groggily, she reached over to turn on the lamp. Her hand bumped something, and it crashed to the floor with the sound of breaking glass. When light from the bulb flooded the room, she looked down to see the picture of her husband, her beloved Glenn, staring at her from below the cracked pane. Oh, shit, she'd done it again, hadn't she?

Turning over, now she was facing the gently snoring youth. Covering her nakedness with the sheet, she implored, "Chuck, wake up."

"What? Huh?" He wearily roused, and then realized he was lying next to a naked woman. "Oh, hi."

"Listen, I better take you home, huh?"

"Can I stay just a little longer?" He reached for her, and she knew he wanted more. She allowed him to hold her, and she felt the warmth of his loins press into her again. For a brief second she responded, kissing him and allowing him to hold her breast, but then she looked at a picture of herself sandwiched between her husband and her mother. No, she had to stop now. She swung away from him and sat up. "You should get dressed."

It seemed he thought of arguing, pleading, but then agreed. "Okay. If you say so." He climbed out of bed, and padded off into the bathroom. Steph watched him, and the sight of his firm nude body filled her with confused passion. By the time he returned, she had her jeans on, and she noticed his eyes linger hungrily on her bosom. Quickly, she threw on a blouse to hide her nakedness.

Chuck was quiet during the ten-minute drive back to the island. "Anything you want to talk about?" she asked.

"No, not really. It's just been a really wonderful day." They were both a little shy now, fearful of what they'd done together, and she, at least, fearful of what might yet come.

"Where should I drop you?"

"Oh, over by the beach, I guess. I only live three blocks away, and it might not go over well if my mom saw me getting out of a car with an older lady. Well, not old, I mean, just . . . well . . ."

"Sure, I know what you mean. Don't worry about it." The couple arrived at the beach overlooking the spot where they'd met only hours before.

"Take it easy, Chuck."

"Thanks for the beer and everything."

"No sweat."

Chuck fumbled out of the VW in the ungainly manner of an adolescent. He rambled over to her side of the car and leaned into the window. Stephanie could tell he was searching for the perfect way to end what had been the perfect day.

"Hey, I really enjoyed myself."

"You sure? I mean, you weren't faking it, were you?" A huge smile. The twenty-five year old woman gave the nineteen year old boy a good-bye kiss.

"So, listen, can I see you again?"

Twin emotions flooded her karma. First there was guilt, knowing her husband was on a ship, fighting for the country, and how, now twice, she'd been unfaithful to him. And yet another sensation, one she knew wouldn't just go away, one that was centered squarely between her legs.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll come down to the beach again tomorrow. Or maybe in a few weeks, when my husband's ship leaves. Why don't you keep an eye out for me?"

She pulled away from the curb, and the Bug sputtered down Shoreline Drive.

To Be Continued.