We Need to Talk Ch. 07

He shined his flashlight around my truck and inside the cab.

"G'night, Doc."

As Jim had said, I was on my own. Myra was already up at the lake house, along with Claire, Rich, and Mitch. I tried not to think about what they were doing, but I knew. Dinner would be done by now and the kitchen cleanup done. The air would be thick with weed smoke and they'd be pairing up about now. Claire and Rich first? I thought that most likely. If Myra was right, Rich had a thing going on with Claire. That left Myra with Mitch. Young, strong, virile Mitch. Sexually aggressive Mitch. Would they swap halfway through the night? Sure they would, back and forth until they were all spent, and then they'd start up again in the morning.

Who would sleep with whom, and who would wake up with whom? Fuck me! How did it come to this?

*****

I got home and when my garage door went up, I was surprised to see Claire's car inside in Myra's parking space. Claire was in the kitchen cooking spaghetti and meatballs and I could smell garlic bread in the oven.

"Hi, Dell."

"Claire! How'd you get in? And thanks for cooking dinner, by the way. I'm hungry," I said. She was dressed casually elegant; tailored black slacks, a white blouse, and low heels. She was wearing a new, bib-style apron and she looked wonderful.

"Myra gave me a house key and her garage door clicker."

"Myra gave you her key? So she knows you're here? So...she's up at the lake house...alone with, with, with..."

I was stammering.

"Yeah, Dell, she's up there alone with two horny men getting her brains fucked out. Sounds interesting, but I'd rather be here with you. Let's play house."

That was fine by me. My wife was up at the lake playing a wanton slut for two men. Claire and I were going to play husband and wife. We were older, mature, and we had perspective. That meant we ate dinner first.

After dinner, we retired to the living room to talk.

"This apple juice is pretty good. Who says you have to get drunk or high to have a good time?" Claire said, raising her glass to me.

I raised mine back. "It's local stuff from the Bennett Cider Mill. Freshly pressed. Beats wine all to pieces, I think."

We talked about my recent alcohol troubles, my overeating, and my former lack of exercise, all of which I'd made significant progress overcoming.

Claire told me about nursing George through his final illness, raising a teenaged daughter by herself, and her loneliness.

"So you didn't date after George died?" I asked.

"Just occasionally. But guys my age are too...too...uh...too boring. And younger guys? They just wanted to get into my panties, thought I'd be desperate and willing to put out."

"And, did you...uh...?"

I was asking far too intimate a question so I immediately followed with, "No, wait, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

Claire gave me a wan smile and said, "Well, a girl has her needs, and I like sex. But I didn't make a habit of it; it was too cold, too impersonal. Those guys were just a dick on a stick and I need real intimacy. You know what? All those years gone by and I was still thinking of you, of what we had, and how we were interrupted. Probably a good thing we were, Dell, because George and I had a good marriage, a really fun marriage. But you've always held a place in my heart."

We were facing each other on the sofa and she shook her head and smiled. She was remembering. I thought she looked adorable and at that moment, my wife was a million miles away.

"Myra and I talked and I know you two are joined at the hip, whatever your troubles may be," Claire said. "I mean, she's out there right now fucking up a storm with two guys and you and I are playing house. Somehow, I don't think any of this is going to upset your marriage."

True that, I thought."What about you, Claire? What do you want?"

"Right now? I want you, Dell. I seem to recall we were interrupted 19 years ago. Do you remember what we were doing? Wasn't I riding your cock, grinding down on you? God, I've thought of that often enough. I was about ready to get off when George opened the door! What a scene! George later told me it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen, but he felt obligated to to act angry and run you off. He'd already lined up a new job in San Diego so we just pulled up stakes and left. When we found out I was pregnant, right away George suspected it was yours, so that's why we stayed out of your life. I always loved and admired George for raising Jillian as his own daughter."

She wiped away a tear and smiled.

"Weird, huh? Talking about my dead husband while I'm seducing you? What's the matter with me?"

"Nothing's the matter with you, Claire. You're a lovely woman and I'm sure you were a lovely wife for George. Thank-you, to both you and George, for raising our daughter. And thank-you Claire, for bringing her here. She's a wonderful young woman."

Now it was my turn to wipe away a tear. Myra had always said I was an old softie.

"And here I thought I was seducing you! I can see I've met my match. Let's go upstairs," I said.

*****

We showered together and reacquainted ourselves with each other's bodies. Compared to Myra, Claire was thinner, a little taller, and more angular. We were both 52 and no longer young. Gravity had taken it's toll on us both, but her smaller breasts had aged well. They had a perkiness and fullness that could be the envy of many younger women. Her nipples were large and as hard as I remembered. Her tummy was flat and her hips full and fecund. Theoretically, I knew she was still able to get pregnant, but the odds were long, exceedingly long. The thought of knocking her up again...impregnating her!...excited me, and my penis got harder than it had in years.

Claire found a scrunchie and pulled her long, dark hair back into a pony tail. She caught me looking when she raised her arms, and she pushed out her chest and posed for me, turning from side to side. I looked at her and her reflection in the big bathroom mirror. She watched me stroke my cock, then came to me for a kiss. She pushed my hand away and took over. Her touch felt wonderful again. It had been years.

"You've got a nice penis, Dell, always was my favorite. It used to fit me just right. I wonder if it still fits as well as I remember?"

She began walking me toward the master bedroom, leading me with a tight, pleasantly painful grip around my shaft.

Claire was always good with the naughty sex talk and years ago she teased me to powerful if somewhat premature orgasms. Now, at 52, her hot talk only added to my arousal and I felt fully in control of my orgasms. I savored the knowledge I was in for a good fuck. No longer did I worry about premature ejaculation; in fact, just the opposite. Now I was the Energizer Bunny, especially with the Cialis I'd just taken.

I intended to give Claire a good, long, hard pounding. That is, after I licked and sucked her pussy for as long as she could stand it. Formerly, I was able to get Claire off multiple times with my mouth, tongue, and fingers, and I intended to show this girl a good time again. But Claire had other ideas once we got into the bedroom.

"I'm a little cock-starved, Dell. Do you mind?"

She bent forward at her waist and kissed the tip of my penis, then enveloped the head in her mouth. The sensation was electric! Her tongue delicately probed the underside and she gently milked upwards, reminding me how she formerly coaxed me to a climax and drew out my semen with her rhythmic sucking and swallowing. After a time, the old thoughts and new sensations nearly undid me, and I pulled her off my penis and brought her up for a deep kiss. She tasted musty and salty.

"I love a man's taste and smell, Dell, and I always loved yours," she breathed. "Do you want to cum in my mouth? I'll let you if you want it."

I was tempted.

"I want your pussy first, Claire, and I want to taste it now. I can smell it, baby, and it's driving me crazy. Let me have a taste."

I pulled the covers back, glad I had sneaked upstairs after dinner to turn the electric blankets to 'high'. Claire slipped under the covers and I followed, and we snuggled each other, savoring the warm bed and the skin on skin contact. We kissed as desperate lovers do and shamelessly groped each other's bodies, exploring each other, trying to make up for nineteen years of abstinence. She felt both wonderfully firm and wonderfully soft, and alive with desire and eagerness. I was hard as a railroad spike, thrusting against her soft belly in anticipation of what was soon to come.

I suckled her teats and squeezed her breasts, and reveling in their easy movement under my hands. I eased lower, kissing my way down her belly. Claire threw her head back against the pillow and let out a long sigh.

"Oh, yes! Eat my pussy, Dell, eat me out and lap me up like a bitch in heat. Give me a good tongue fucking! I need it bad!"

I was keen to oblige. Claire scooted up in bed and spread her legs wider. I pushed the covers back a little and lowered by face. I could feel the heat from her vulva and smell the pungent, sweet fragrance of her excited pussy, nearly overwhelming me under the blankets. I luxuriated in the supreme sexiness of it all, licking her with the flat of my tongue from stem to stern, and exploring her juicy labia with light kisses. She raised her hips in response and pulled the blankets all the way off.

"Yes! Yes! Get to it! Finger fuck me! Do it! Do it!" she cried, and I felt her tense up.

I slipped one, two, and then three fingers into her tunnel, thrusting in and out and twisting them, hooking and rubbing behind her pubic bone. Her vaginal walls felt slick and hot, and I knew I'd soon enjoy driving my cock deep into her. But her pleasure came first and I concentrated; listening to her breath, listening to her words and sighs, and paying close attention to her physical responses. I wanted to play her like a Stradivarius, I wanted a standing ovation, and I wanted nothing less than her total exhaustion and total capitulation.

She began a high, keening sound I remembered from long ago. It kept building, wavering in pitch like a siren until she let go a deep gasp and her thighs clamped around by ears and she squeezed, hard. I couldn't breath and could barely hear her agonizing cries. She grasped my hair and thrashed from side to side, convulsing while I tried to follow her frantic movements.

Suddenly, her thighs opened and I pulled my face away. My face was slick with her juices and the air felt cool on my hot cheeks. She pulled me up for a deep kiss and she licked her juices off my face.

"Oh, Dell, that was fantastic, better than I remember, just incredible!" she panted, and she kissed me.

"You taste like pussy!" she breathed and kissed me again, licking around my lips before she pulled away.

I kissed her back and said, "I love eating your hot little pussy! And now I gonna get me some."

I positioned myself between her spread legs and rubbed my cock up and down her slit. She watched me with wide eyes and open mouth, still coming down from her high. I found her entrance and pushed. I felt like driving into her with everything I had, but instead I took it in stages, pushing in and pulling back, until I was firmly bottomed out inside her. I let out a satisfied groan.

"God, you feel good, Claire! Better than I remember. My God, you've got a snug little pussy."

I was babbling, trying to stave off the rising excitement growing at the base of my cock, deep in my pelvis. I tried to hold still and enjoy the incredible sensations. I hadn't felt this excited in years, maybe decades, and I certainly hadn't been so close to a climax, so soon, in all that time. I felt like a young buck again, having sex for the first time.

Claire flexed and squeezed her pelvic muscles and I felt my orgasm rising up, trying to escape out the end of my cock.

"No fair! Fuck! Claire! You're going to make me come!"

"Then fuck me, Dell, fuck me hard! Give it to me! Pound that pussy and give me your cum!" Now she was babbling.

I was out of options. A long, loving, leisurely fuck was now out the question. I hooked my elbows behind her knees and pushed her legs back, then began a vigorous thrusting, trying to fuck her right through the mattress. We sang a duet of, "Oh, ya, oh, ya, oh, ya's," and "fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK YAAHHH!" as I came with a force I hadn't felt in years. I felt my entire essence, my total being, turned inside out and rocketing up my cock and shooting into her hot cunt. My brain melted and my breath collapsed. It was my total exhaustion, my total capitulation, not hers. We both fell into a heavy sleep.

*****

I awoke after some indeterminate stretch of time, feeling cold. My right hip was lying in a wet spot and my left shoulder was cold and uncovered; Claire had most of the blankets. I moved closer to her and pulled a corner of a blanket over myself, feeling her radiant warmth. Her back was to me and she was sleeping nude. I gently cupped her bare bottom and marveled at her superb shape. Claire was made for sex, made to arouse men's lust. Was I in love again or just in lust?

Then I thought of Myra. My wife had left me at home with my old lover so she could spend a weekend with her two lovers. I had to wonder if my marriage was sound. Is this sort of thing sustainable? Can a marriage absorb this kind of abuse and continue?

I also realized some other things. I did love Claire, but it was leftover love from 19 years ago. I hadn't seen her in that long and our love was like distant old friends reconnecting. We'd rehashed the old days but I had a nagging suspicion we didn't have anything new. Without that, we might soon wonder what to talk about. In many ways, she was a stranger from the past.

Then too, I was experiencing Claire in a privileged way: Clean, pure Claire; unencumbered and bereft of all the ancillary nonsense that weighs down a marriage, like mortgages, bills, home repairs, dirty laundry, messes in the kitchen, hurt feelings, petty resentments...the list was endless. Claire had dropped out of the sky like a celestial goddess accompanied by my darling daughter. How could Myra, or how could ANY wife, compare to that? How could Myra not be jealous of Claire?

No, I was wise enough to understand this gorgeous naked woman sleeping next to me was not my Myra, not my lifetime partner, not the woman I wanted to grow old with. She was a great sex partner and we'd just had some outstanding sex, and we'd traveled together 19 years back in time to relive some glory days, but it was only a mirage. It wasn't real. Claire wasn't Myra and never could be. Yes, I loved Claire like I loved all my friends, or maybe her a little bit more, but I could never give up my Myra, no matter what she was doing right now. In the larger scheme of things, what Myra was doing didn't matter. Not really, not in the long term.

Another sneaky thought intruded and I cringed inside. I was jealous of Myra having sex with Rich and Mitch, and in that brain compartment I was furious! The very thought enraged me! But in another, adjoining brain compartment I was delighted! In that brain compartment, I wanted Myra to get the fucking of her life, and the thought of it excited me beyond words!

It didn't make any sense. How could I simultaneously embrace these two, separate, and totally disparate ideas? That was a mystery, but in truth, part of me wanted Rich, and especially young Mitch, to really give Myra a good fucking. I wasn't worried about my wife's safety because I trusted Rich to keep her from harm. He was in love with my wife just like I was in love with Claire. But that dark compartment of my brain wanted my wife to come home well-fucked and exhausted. Moreover, I wanted Myra's two lovers to totally expend themselves in her and come home exhausted, too.

I was lost in these thoughts when suddenly I noticed Claire looking over her shoulder at me. How long had I been lost in dreamland? Her soft, plush bottom was pushing against my growing erection and she reached back her hand to grasp it.

"Deep in thought, lover?" she said, lightly scraping her fingernails along the shaft and around the ridge, making me shiver.

"Yeah, just thinking about you, Claire," I said.

"Liar," she laughed. "You're thinking about Myra, wondering what she's doing. Well, we know what she's doing; she's doing the same thing we are, only more of it!"

Busted! How do women always know?

"She's having her fun so leave her be. Tonight it's just you and me, Dell."

"I know, but I can't help it," I whined. I have got to stop whining!

"You two are really in love, you know that?" she said. "Myra and I've talked and what you've got is special. George and I had it, too. Are you worried I'll try to steal you away from Myra? 'Cause I won't. I couldn't steal you away no matter how much I tried; you're that much in love with Myra. You and I are always going to have something special because of Jillian but I can't compare with Myra, I know that."

She rolled over to face me. "You're in a big wet spot, Dell. Here, move over this way."

We adjusted positions and she lay on her back, spread her legs, and I rolled over on top of her. I enjoyed the softness of her breasts, her warm belly, the bare skin on bare skin, and the firmness of her inner thighs against my hips. My firm erection lay in her warm furrow.

I raised up onto my elbows and she reached down to guide my penis inside of her, rubbing it up and down, getting it wet, and angling her pelvis up.

"Slowly, lover, I'm not quite slick enough yet," she whispered. I felt myself at her entrance and I gently pushed my hips forward.

"Ahhh...yes...take it slow, lover...let me enjoy each stroke, give me time to feel you, Dell," she said, and I fully seated myself inside her. I stopped and we looked into each other's eyes. Her eyes searched mine and I began moving in and out with slow, short movements, pressing my hips and belly into her, feeling her slick, tight pussy engulfing my cock. We kissed and I put my head alongside hers, our mouths near each other's ears.

"God, you feel good Claire, I don't ever want to stop doing this."

"Make love to me Dell, do it like we used to do it all those years ago."

Time seemed suspended and the world shrunk to the confines of our bedroom, our bed, and then just our two bodies joined as one. It was as perfect a union as could be imagined.

*****

The second time we awoke it was 1 am. I checked my phone and there were no messages from Myra. Claire emerged from the shower, head wrapped in a towel and wearing a fluffy white bathrobe. She sat on the bed.

"No word yet? Let's send her a picture," Claire said.

We snuggled together on the bed and I took a 'selfie'. We were smiling and it seemed obvious what we had been doing. I sent the picture without a text.

When I got out of the shower Claire was looking at my phone. On the screen was a picture of Myra, same as Claire, hair wrapped in a towel, smiling in a fluffy bathrobe. She was seated on a couch surrounded on both sides by Rich and Mitch. Their heads were pressed together and all three sported big grins.

The text said: "Long session."

A second picture came through. In it, Myra was bent over the kitchen table, face turned back and smiling at the camera. Rich was holding aside the back of her bathrobe. It took my breath away! Myra's thighs and her bare bottom were criss-crossed with thin, red lines.

The text read: "I was a bad girl and they made me promise to be better. They made me do penance, too! ;-)"

"My God, what did they do to her?" I said.

"They used a switch, or a handful of switches, most likely," Claire said. "Stings like fire but doesn't really hurt like a cane. It can make a girl squeal and stamp her feet, though, and Rich likes that." She had a sheepish look on her face which told me she had experienced this first hand, probably from Rich, himself.