Giving Head

We returned from the party and went upstairs. Cheryl slipped out of her black dress. Underneath she wore nothing but thong panties.

Carla, my first wife, would have never been so casual about her nudity. And though my sex life with Carla had been exceptional in every way, she had an annoying habit of wrapping herself up in granny pajamas before she went to bed.

Her odd modesty annoyed the hell out of me. Even after a vigorous blowjob, with her hand pumping my stiff shaft, her warm, wet mouth sliding up and down until it felt like she was swallowing me whole, even after she coaxed a huge burst of semen and eagerly gulped it down, she still bundled up against the cold before she went to sleep.

I could do nothing to change her. My sleeping in the nude resulted only in bemused smiles. Late night attempts to slip my hands under her nightclothes merely aroused annoyed slaps.

The first thing to attract me to my second wife was her ease at being looked at. Cheryl thought nothing of parading around the community pool in a tiny bikini. When I arrived for our second date after my divorce, she led me to her bedroom and dropped her robe. Underneath, she was naked. I was stunned. She carried on a casual (although mostly one-sided) conversation with me as she slowly dressed for dinner.

The first time we had sex, Cheryl flung off her clothes and fell back on the bed with her thighs spread wide and urged me on top of her. The unencumbered view of her open glistening sex had me on the verge of orgasm even before I entered her.

Cheryl was amazing in almost every way. Except for one thing: Cheryl would not give head.

I'd asked her for blowjobs on a couple occasions and always received a shy refusal. And while she seemed to enjoy the attention I paid between her legs, and she showed no hesitation with masturbating while I watched, there was always a nervous tension when I took the first licks within her slick folds. And Cheryl never came during oral sex.

That night, at the party thrown by our neighbors, with Cheryl dressed in a sexy black dress, we were surprised to meet my ex-wife Carla and her new husband. Chuck was a large man with a loud laugh, the type of man you expect to stumble awkwardly through a conversation. But was nimble enough to make the situation palatable for the four of us. On two occasions I caught Chuck ogling my new wife. And though my ex-wife often laughed nervously, she was in excellent spirits through most of the evening.

Afterwards, Cheryl stood with her back to me, wearing only those tiny black panties. "Chuck seemed like a nice enough fellow," Cheryl said.

She slid her panties down and dropped them in the hamper. My heart ached at the sight of her naked ass. And when she turned, the vision of her up-turned breasts and manicured pubes put me instantly on edge.

I thought of Chuck eyeing her at the party. My prick straightened under the sheets. "Yes he seemed OK. Why don't you come to bed?"

Her tits jiggled as she approached the bed. I threw back the covers to invite her in, but instead of lying down to face me, she stretched out with her feet at the headboard. Her head was at my hips and she gazed at my expanding erection.

She licked her lips and looked at me. "I want to try it," she said.

My heart raced. She lifted my cock between her fingers as if it were a Christmas tree ornament. "But I don't know how," she said, her voice a little a-quiver.

"You'll do fine," I whispered.

She pursed her lips and lowered them to the tip of my cock. Her moist lips parted as she slurped lightly on the very tip of my prick.

"That's good," I urged, and she opened wider and sucked me deeper. Her mouth was full of warm spit, and I slid easily in.

At first, she explored my cock with her mouth. Little licks and kisses and nibbles. She soon found a rhythm, bobbing tentatively up and down, synchronized with her fist on my shaft.

For a first attempt, Cheryl was marvelous. I quickly climbed, completely out of control. My hips lifted, and I felt the blood rush. "I'm coming," I warned and exquisite pressure rushed to my groin. A huge pulse and she grunted in surprise. She lifted her head but continued to stroke as I emptied over her hand.

She wiped her hand on the sheet and blinked rapidly. A tiny drop of cum glistened on her lower lip. I would've kissed her, but my heart raced uncontrolled.

Cheryl shivered. She slipped quickly out from under the covers and skittered back to the walk-in closet. When she returned, she wore black satin pajamas.

"Are those new?" I asked.

"No, I've had them for a while," Cheryl said. "I'm just a little cold." She burrowed back under the covers and rolled to face me. "Good night," she yawned. I reached out and touched the satin material, and I felt my fatigue rise. I closed my eyes and fell into a deep, even sleep.