tagNovels and NovellasUnconventional Awakening Ch. 13

Unconventional Awakening Ch. 13


My husband wants to know about Sunday night. The night I first made love to not just one man, who up to a few hours prior was a complete stranger, but to two men who had just recently come into my life. I can tell that he really wants to know, and that the circumstances will not be a setback for us. With this knowledge that our relationship will come through this, and may actually be stronger bolsters my spirits and I share with him the activities that have transformed his sexually conservative wife into a work in progress. A work in progress that he had hoped for for some time now.

I recount how Peter, Paul and I met. Oh wait, I remember the shower with a blush, and a new twinge, as I feel the wet spot on the sheet from my recent enjoyment. The horny woman staring back in the mirror with a need for release.

Paul bumping into me and how I was immediately conscious of being braless....

"Braless?" He asks. "You were going out in public braless? You? Who would always say that you wouldn't feel comfortable, people might notice? You? Okay, I am looking forward to the rest of this story. Sorry dear, didn't mean to interrupt, but you surprise me."

"Honey, I was immediately self conscious about the fact that my boobs were evidently unrestrained, and I was sure that Paul must have sensed my bralessness. I definitely sensed feeling his arm brush against me in a way that I never have before. The rubbing of my sweater across my nipple caused my nipple to immediately swell, and, well you know dear...."

A low chuckle is all that greets my ear.

I tell him about our dinner, and how the next time there was contact, it was deliberate on my part.

And then we come back to the hotel and I innocently suggest a nightcap.

And then....

I take a deep breath and begin to relive the evening in slow motion. I am very aware of being naked now. My nipples once again are betraying me. And I fear that the wet spot in the sheet will only become larger. My husband doesn't help matters as he encourages me to do what may now come naturally. He wants me to pleasure my self. He wants me to masturbate while talking to him on the phone! The shocker for me is that I know that I want to too, and that I will enjoy it.

To think, that only a few days before, I would have thought of pleasuring myself as disdainful and not something a good woman would do. And now, I realized that I had missed out on a lot, and that pleasuring myself was just as natural a desire as my husband pleasuring himself when I wasn't available or "in the mood". I was still getting used to the idea, and I was finding out that each time was different. My fingers did different things to different spots based on my mind at the time. My husband had always said that the brain was the largest sex organ, and I now understood that point very clearly. Not only in this endeavor, but in making love period.

I recounted how "The Dare" started and Paul actually began to strip. And when I saw his cock, something in me gave. I new that I wanted more this evening then just a dare.

"And then it was my turn. I was nervous and not sure if my knees would support me. But I couldn't chicken out at this point. So, slowly, with my back to them, I let my robe fall off me. And well dear, one thing lead to another, and then it was Peter's turn."

"After Peter stripped, I laid down on the bed, and gestured to Paul to come closer. I wanted to suck his cock. And from there on, we made love for the next three hours."

My body is tingly as I recount this to my husband. His only comment back sends shivers through me.

He tells me he wants to know the full details, but that will have to wait. He has a raging hardon, and is close. I feel a jolt in my nipples that soars to my wet pussy, and my fingers slide down my body, softly tugging on each nipple before sliding softly over my tummy. The tips of my fingers become moist as they caress the swollen lips of my inflamed pussy. The lips are puffy and wet, and my fingers slip easily between the folds, and into me. My hips thrust upward as my fingers bury themselves in me. I feel my fingers curve slightly and explore my warm silky caressing depths. It feels so warm, and smooth. My fingers seem to set of nerve ending after nerve ending. We are pleasuring ourselves together. The fact that we are doing this while on the phone only adds to the erotic nature of what we are doing. "Who is this woman who I am becoming.... Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhhh, uhhhhhhhhhhhh" as my tension releases around my pistoning, wet fingers.

My hips undulate as my orgasm peaks, and my fingers continue to mercilessly fuck my starving pussy. What I miss is the spurt that I would feel if my fingers was a lover's cock. That thought sends a new pulse through my already quivering pussy, and I feel rope after rope of thick hot cum exploding from my lover as he too crests and feels my pussy with his love juice.

At that moment, I wish my husband was her with me, fucking me with a passion, filling my craving pussy with his essence.

And in the fog of my orgasm I hear a moan. And then it clears as I realize that my husband is the source of the moan, and I know that he is cumming too. I try and imagine the ropes of thick cum shooting out of his cock, and landing in long streamers of glistening essence on his stomach and higher. I quiver as I see his body covered with his cum, knowing that I am the reason he is covered. A spasm courses through my pussy. My pussy grips my fingers sending a current to my brain. The circuit is completed, and I tremble.

"Honey, I love you, more than ever, dear, see you tomorrow, I'm coming to Chicago" followed by a "click", as the phone connection is severed, and I am brought out of my reverie.

My fingers still are buried in my pussy, as my brain processes this last bit of information.

He is coming to Chicago.

To be continued...

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