Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
As I was driving home from CeCe’s, I tried to visualize Lissa. I had only seen her for probably less than a minute. I could see her classy attire and the several rings she had on her fingers. Her deep red hair sparkling in the morning sun. I remembered her wearing a flouncy cream colored blouse and tight dark, maybe even black slacks that set off her trim figure. She had a Cashmere sweater, the sleeves draped over her shoulders and loosely tied in front. She really didn’t look like your typical Costco shopper. She was definitely high class.
Shit, I just ran a red light. Thankfully there wasn’t any cross traffic, just an old homeless lady trying to cross the street pushing her shopping cart. She flipped me off. Damn, I’d better wait until I get home to think about Lissa. The Cialis was still working and my cock was pressing tightly to my clothing. Hmmm, was it the drug or my envisioning Lissa that was creating my arousal?
The buzzing from my pocket let me know I had an incoming text. It was from my wife; she was letting me know she was going over to Rebecca’s and would be bringing dinner home. I’m glad she had a close friend. Most of mine had either moved or passed away. I missed not having a guy friend I could talk with, maybe even share my secrets.
After parking in our garage, I picked up the two bottles of lube and the remote-controlled vibrating butt plug and headed inside. Joe was glad to see me. I got him some treats then headed into our bedroom, placing the lube and toy in the back of the top shelf. I’m not sure why I felt I had to hide it from my wife but figured it might be easier than if she saw them. I had never hidden things from her before but felt I had to now.
Joe was bugging me, he needed to go out. I walked into our kitchen and saw that Vickie had locked his doggie door. Funny I thought, we normally only do that at night. I headed back to our bedroom, my eyelids were heavy so I kicked off my shoes, took off my pants and shirt and crawled under the comforter. Thankfully my erection had finally gone down. I closed my eyes, thinking about my morning with CeCe. Sleep overtook me.
It was dark when I awoke, Joe was licking at my hand. I turned on the light on my nightstand and saw it was a quarter to eight. Why hadn’t Vickie woken me for dinner. I turned on the hallway lights and had to turn other lights as our home was dark. I removed my phone from its charger and called my wife. It went straight to voicemail. I dug through the kitchen drawer and found my wife’s phonebook. It had Rebecca’s home phone and I called. I got her recorder and I left a message for Vickie to call me.
At 9:30 I called Rebecca’s home. Again I got her recorder, this time I asked her to call me if she had seen Vickie or knew where she was. I was getting worried. I fixed myself half a sandwich and started to make myself a drink. I changed my mind about the drink and opened a Sprite, I wanted a clear head when my wife got home. Should I get in my car and go looking for her? Where would I go? I had only been to Rebecca’s once and wasn’t quite sure if I could find it again. I sat at our old kitchen table and waited in silence. Joe kept wanting his head rubbed.
Joe’s barking and the squeaking of our garage door let me know Vickie was home. It was a little after ten. My wife wobbled into the kitchen, a large brown paper bag in her hand. I could tell she was drunk; way more than she should have had imbibed to be driving. That’s for sure. I took the bag from her as she tried to focus on my face. I could smell Mexican food in the bag so she had at least brought us home some dinner.
“Where have you been?” I asked rather upset. “Do you know what time it is? Why was your phone off? Why did you drive in your condition? You should have called me,” I said kind of throwing things together.
She held up her hands and said, “One of you is going to have to stop yelling.” What did she mean one of us? I didn’t think I was yelling. She batted her eyes, trying to clear her vision and said, “I need a glass of water, then I think I’m going to bed.” My wife turned to the cupboard and grabbed a glass, promptly dropping it. Thank goodness it was a plastic one. I picked up and filled it with ice and water and turned to see her making her way to our bedroom. She was using the cabinets to steady herself then made her way down the hallway, arms extended to the walls to brace herself and I quickly followed.
Vickie made it to our bed before me and plopped face down on top. I sat her glass on her nightstand and began to undress my passed out wife. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her this drunk. I had gotten her down to her panties and I searched under her pillow for her nightie. She usually kept it there a morning or two. Nothing. I looked at my wife and remembered how beautiful she used to be. She could easily have beaten CeCe out in the looks during her prime and probably a close second to Jackie. Like me, time had changed us, though to me, she still looked desirable, fuckable, eatable. Kütahya Escort God I wanted to pull down those granny panties and plunder that luscious ass.
My hand drifted to her gusset, she spread her legs and I heard her moan. Do I dare? My throat was dry, my heart was pounding. I rushed to the closet and got one of the bottles of lube. Carefully easing down her panties, my wife raised her hips to allow me to slip them down to her knees then off. I gently slid her legs wider and in her drunken state, she didn’t complain. God I was so hard.
I quickly undressed and caressed her back and her butt cheeks. I spread one cheek to the side and poured a little lube towards her rosebud. Her body shivered at the cold liquid running over it towards her pussy. Another moan escaped her lips. I used my thumb to dam up the flow and pushed it into her ass. Vickie arched her ass higher, allowing me to reposition my hand so my palm was against her perineum and my fingers were brushing her clit.
She buried her head into her pillow and moaned as I wiggled my thumb deeper into her bowel. Damn, my wife was enjoying this and I was leaking precum like a sieve. I so wanted to ravage her but for some reason, I just increased my ministrations deep as my thumb would go. I watched as her body trembled and her sphincter tightened around my thumb. The heat coming off of her pussy let me know her body could still respond. Letting out an animalistic scream into her pillow, my wife orgasmed, her body shaking in rapture.
Tears filled my eyes; I couldn’t remember the last time my wife had a real orgasm. Was it five years ago, six or seven? I realized then that it wasn’t her body that wasn’t working, it was her mind that was stopping her from enjoying sex with me. I eased my thumb out and pulled the covers over her. I slipped on some house pants and a tee shirt and went into the den.
I watched the new video that CeCe had sent me. She was using her new toy to stroke her ass. She had two pillows under her lovely globes as she plunged the vibrating toy deep inside of her backside. Watching her pleasure herself this way, I realized I should have bought two of those vibrators. Even though CeCe had given me some fantastic orgasms earlier that day, I grabbed my aching cock and stroked myself off to an orgasm, wishing I was plowing it into my wife’s sweet ass. It was after 1:00 when I finally climbed into bed. My wife was snoring so I dug through my nightstand and found some earplugs.
I didn’t wake up until almost 11:00. Vickie was not in bed and Joe hadn’t woken me up. Then I remembered the ear plugs. I needed coffee and headed into the kitchen. My wife heard me and walked in to see what I was up to.
“Uggg, shit!” she groaned. “Why did I have to drink so many margaritas?” she asked of herself. Then she looked at me and asked, “Michael, why didn’t you at least put your dinner in the refrigerator last night?” Taking my coffee, I sat at our kitchen table and watched as she poured herself a large glass of juice, sitting down across from me.
I smiled and patted her hand and said, “Sorry sweetheart, having to get my drunk wife into bed last night seemed more important than dinner at the time and then I just forgot it. Where were you yesterday? Do you know what time you got home and how drunk you were? Why was your phone off?”
She looked at me and said, “My phone was off?” She jumped up and retrieved her purse from the counter where she had dropped it when she came in. Digging through it, she came up empty then rushed out to our garage. A short while later she walked back in , her phone in hand and said, “I’m sorry dear. I guess it fell out of my purse and had fallen between the seats. It seem the battery was dead.?”
After sitting back down she said, “I went to Rebecca’s only to find Paula and her daughter Donna were there. You remember Paula, she and John used to live down the street from us before he passed away a few years ago.” I nodded. “Well, Paula wanted to go to El Adobe for margaritas and chips. She said she hasn’t had a decent margarita since she moved. We went there and it was happy hour. Donna is a psychologist and we were just talking, enjoying our drinks and you know, having girl talk.”
“Rebecca asked Donna about your ass fixation and at first Paula had a rather shocked look, then she seemed to relax and joined in on our conversation. I was rather surprised to hear her tell us that she still enjoys anal occasionally with her new boyfriend. Donna said she’d be glad to see you if you’d like to go in for some counseling. She says that sometimes older men develop odd sexual fixations and that she has treated several patients. Maybe you should give her a call.”
I blurted out, “Victoria, I do not have an anal fixation. I’m just pissed that my the woman who I thought loved me with all her heart would give her ass up for her lover and his friends, yet deny me the same pleasure. Did you tell her that? Did you?”
My wife wouldn’t look at me. We sat there Kütahya Escort Bayan in silence for a good ten minutes or so then she looked at me and said, “You know Michael, with all their talking about anal sex, when I went to the bathroom this morning, I was tender down there. I wonder if it could be related? I know I had an erotic dream; I just don’t remember what it was about.”
I was so pissed but instead of yelling I calmly said, “You were probably dreaming about fucking Tom and his two friends at his apartment that day, Weren’t you? Don’t tell me you didn’t love taking it in the ass from them and last night just proved it!” Her lips quivered and her eyes looked up at the ceiling, looking for an answer for me I guessed.
I stood and trying to keep from shouting I said, “It’s not me that needs the counseling, I think it’s you. Last night after you passed out on our bed, I undressed you. You were so sexy laying there I couldn’t refrain from playing with your magnificent ass. I got some lube and poked my thumb into your backside and you loved it. You wiggled and moaned in pleasure. I then dug my thumb in deeper and my fingers dipped into your beautiful pussy, brushing your clit. You came! God dammit, you orgasmed on my thumb and fingers. You can’t tell me you don’t feel sex any more. You just don’t want sex with me. ADMIT IT!”
I stormed out of the house, slamming the door on my way out. When I got to my shop, I realized I still had my house pants and tee shirt on and my keys were in my jeans. If I could have left, I would have but I had to go back inside and get dressed.
Vickie was sitting in her recliner, tears yet again. Why was this becoming so difficult? She was typing something on her tablet. I didn’t ask who It was. I walked over to her and took the tablet out of her hand and set on the small table next to her.
I pulled her to me and held her tightly and kissed her then softly said, “My precious love, I want you to know I forgive you. Yes you made a mistake but you were a good wife before that happened and you’ve been a good wife to me ever since. I think that it’s your guilt that isn’t allowing you to allow you to enjoy sex. I know you came when you were drunk last night and I damn sure don’t want to have to git you drunk just so we can have sex.”
That brought out a little giggle from her and a half smile. Her smile made my heart swell with love. Vickie said, “We could try it that way if you want.”
After kissing her forehead, cheek then lips, I said to her, “My darling wife, I would rather have you fully conscious of your actions and pleasures than to have to be told to you later by me. I would be willing even happy to accompany you to see Donna. I think we both could use some counseling and maybe with her help, we can get on the right track.”
Holding me at arm’s length, my loving wife said, “So you really forgive me? Promise me you do.”
I kissed her saying, “I promise that I forgive you and I also promise not to bring it up again. If you would like to talk about it, I would appreciate it but I’m not going to hold it against you. I’m looking forward to growing older with you. Hopefully this will just end up being another small bump in our path in life. I love you so much!” Then I squeezed her hard, and then we broke apart.
I went in and dressed. I know it was only noon but I went to the cupboard and grabbed a tall glass and filled it with ice. I then poured it full of Kentucky sour mash and went into my den. It had to be 5:00 somewhere I thought.
I sat at my computer, I had read all my emails and cleared several hundred unread messages. I used Bill Pay to make our payments but my mind was going on a thousand different directions at once.
My phone started playing John Mayer’s Daughters. I smiled, knowing it was my baby girl, Cynthia. “What’s up Babycakes?” I answered. All I could hear was what sounded like the TV in the background. “Cynthia, are you there?” I asked.
“D – D – Dad, tell me it’s not true,” my daughter said.
“What are you talking about honey?” I asked.
My daughter said, “I just called mom a little bit ago. Chad and I are having problems. I called to talk to her and she was crying. I asked her what was wrong and she said that you were having sex with two younger women. Is that true? If you are, can you tell me why?”
“My precious,” I started, “in all honesty, yes I am. I have to tell you though; it was your mother’s idea. I think she’s feeling guilty about her affair with Tom.”
Again, more TV sound. “Daddy, how long have you known? H – h – how did you find out?” my baby said.
“Actually Sweetheart, it wasn’t until after your mother encouraged me to have my first playdate with this young girl and that was only a week or so ago. I don’t know if you know about it but your mother and I haven’t had sex in many years. She no longer wants sex; well I guess it’s sex with me?”
Cynthia spat, “That BITCH! Is she cheating again? Do you know who he is this Escort Kütahya time?”
“Calm down honey,” I told her, “no, I don’t think your mother is cheating. I think her remembering about her affair with him has made her not want any sex at all, even with me. It really hurt to find out about what she did. Especially that she was doing thing things with him and his friends that she would never do with me. Even to this day.”
My daughter was livid, “What do you mean she was doing things with his friends? She told me that when I caught them it was her first time with him. That lying bitch.”
“Cynthia, CALM DOWN, and don’t’ call your mother a bitch.” I said. “I truly believe that when you caught her, she gave him up. I think it made her realize what she was about to lose. At least that’s what one of the young ladies I’ve been seeing has convinced me.” I then went on to explain how I had innocently flirted with CeCe at Costco and had gotten the three phone numbers. I explained how I had told her mother about playing with CeCe and how much I was attracted to her and that CeCe had even talked about me fathering her baby. I told my daughter how her mother told me that I needed to learn to fuck and not make love. I told her about her mother asking Jackie to tutor me and that her mother was paying Jackie to do so.
Cynthia said, “So you’re telling me you’re screwing a hooker?” I laughed and told her that she was a masseuse and that Jackie was really interested in playing with me and that it was her mother that brought up the payment issue but was actually paying for her lost income while she was playing with me.
I asked, “Babydoll, why did you call your mother? Is there something I can do for you?
Now I could tell she was starting to sniffle and asked what was wrong? “Daddy,” she said, “Chad has left me. He thinks I’ve been cheating on him. I was out last Saturday night with some girlfriends and we were dancing and drinking and I guess I had too much to drink. Brad, a guy from work showed up with some of his friends. I was dancing with him and he was slow dancing with me and maneuvered me into a corner and kissed me. I guess I kissed him back.”
“Somehow one of Chad’s friends had seen us and took several pictures of us on his cell phone and sent them to Chad. I got home and he had all my stuff thrown out in garbage bags. He was yelling at me and screaming that I was a cheating whore just like mom. God I wished I had never told him about catching her.”
“Our neighbors called the cops because they were afraid for me. When the officers tried to get him to calm down, he got into their faces with his fists clenched like he was going to hit someone and they arrested him. Now he won’t talk to me. I think he’s filing for divorce. The twins are upset that he’s not at home and they want me to tell them why. Oh daddy, what am I going to do?” my daughter said through her tears.
‘FUCK!’ I thought, ‘it never ends.’ “Babycakes, let me call Chad and see what I can do. I’m not promising anything but you should have never put yourself in such a position. You’re going to have to do your best to convince him that you didn’t cheat on him. . . . You didn’t did you?” I asked.”
“Daddy, I’m NOT like my mother!” my baby said, sobs filling the phone. I told her I’d give Chad a call.
My call to him went unanswered. He let it go to voicemail and I left a message to call me. Twenty minutes later my phone rang. When I answered, Chad began, “I supposed you’re going to defend your daughter. Pops, maybe you can stomach being a cuckold but I sure can’t. She can have the son-of-a-bitch for all I care.” I could hear him trying to hold in his tears. I recognized it as I’d just been through it.
“Chad, you need to have a good sit down talk with my daughter. She says she hasn’t cheated on you and I believe her. Please give her a chance to explain. I know you love her and the kids. At least for their sake, talk with her. See if she can explain it to you,” I told him.
“Pops, you haven’t seen the pictures. I mean she was letting him cop a feel right there on the dance floor. I’m afraid she’s just like Vickie. She has always said she was nothing like her but now I’m wondering,” he said through his tears. It dawned on me that he had always called my wife by her given name but had referred to me as Pops. I guess Cynthia had told him about catching my wife and her lover from the beginning. “You take a look and tell me,” he said then hung up.
Shortly I received a series of eight pictures. At least they were on a dancefloor and fully clothed, well if you can call my daughter’s extremely short skirt fully clothed. Shit, my daughter looked so much like her mother when she was at that age. I felt a tear welling up thinking that’s what my wife looked like when she had her affair with Tom. Cynthia was now almost the same age as my wife was when she strayed. The first picture showed my daughter slow dancing with a very handsome tall dark-haired young man, her arms around his neck and their legs rubbing each other’s crotches. Each picture showed a little more grabbing and rubbing and the last was one of this very provocative kiss with his one hand fondling Cynthia’s breast and his other under the front of her skirt. It was obvious to anyone what was going on.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32