Saturday, 8th June 2018
I’d woken in far more agreeable ways. Still semi-drunk from all the drinking the night before, I rolled over in a strange bed and hit air. The place where I’d expected to bump into Jill was empty, just a hole on Jill’s side of the bed. No one to kiss, snuggle or wrap my arm around. Just air.
Jolted rudely awake by this realization, the clock told me it was four in the morning. A feeling of slow, rumbling dread built in my gut and spread to the left side of my chest. But still, I needed to first use the bathroom. This physical necessity dealt with, my sleep and alcohol dulled brain could finally start to panic properly. Could start drawing all kinds of mental pictures and scenarios about where, what and who Jill was doing.
We were in the house of a guy who we hardly knew from Adam. A guy who’d spent fifteen years building up a strip club business, who’d dealt with the local hoodlums by beating them at their own game. A guy who claimed with a smile he ‘treated’ his girls so good they never left him, a fact which if it was true was open to another interpretation. About why they hung around so long.
And now, in the middle of the night, Jill was missing in the middle of this guy’s house. A house which was very large and which I hardly knew, making me worried as I had no idea where to start looking.
Thankfully, as I quietly left our bedroom I heard the light sound of music coming from somewhere downstairs. Using this as a beacon I quietly and carefully made my way towards the sound. As I got nearer I remember realizing the music was Cool Jazz, which struck me as an odd thing to be playing an hour before sunrise in the middle of Delray Beach.
As my nervous feet padded along the wooden floors the sound of jazz was joined by voices, voices which mixed with laughter before returning to voices again. A few feet away from the door, my path now lit by the light from the open kitchen door, I slowed to a snail’s pace. Jill’s voice now very clear to me, a fact that gave me a strange mix of fear and relief. Relief that I’d found her and that she’d not been magicked away to one of Luther’s clubs, yet fear at what I might find when I reached the doorway.
I was suddenly hit by a feeling of déjà vu, feeling guilty and ashamed as I thought back to all the times I’d sneaked around and watched and eavesdropped these last few months. But not so ashamed that I stopped myself, inching forward the last few feet to see who was in there with Jill. Breathing a sigh of relief when I saw Dee’s blonde head rather than Luther’s tight cropped black hair. Sat side-by-side looking contemplatively out into the dark shadows of the pre-dawn garden.
The laughter started up again, and as it died down Jill turning to face our host’s girlfriend.
“But seriously, what’s it like? How did you find it?” my inquisitive wife asked.
Dee chuckled, “What do you mean ‘did’ find it? Not so much of the past tense please, missy,” her soft Georgia accent just as alluring as the night before. “I might be older than most all the other girls, but I’ve still been known to shake my booty the odd night or two. I’ve still got enough to put some lead in the odd pecker or two …”
When their shared laughter had quietened a little, Jill gently pushed her question again. “Okay, I admit you’re still a fine figure of a woman, but you still didn’t answer my question. What’s it like? Getting up there and dancing in front of all those guys? How does it feel, knowing all those guys are looking at all your private parts? Lusting after you, imagining what they’d do to you given half a chance.”
Even side-on I could see Dee’s grin. It was as if Jill’s question had brought back happy memories for her.
“Well, honey,” the soft Georgia voice started, “I’ll not pretend it’s all sweetness and light. Like any other gig, it’s got its ups and downs. Good days and bad days. But what I can tell you is that when it’s good, it’s very good.”
Jill was rapt with attention, now sitting on the edge of her seat, reminding me of how a kid looks if you tell them a particularly scary story. Frightened by every single word, but enjoying the fear and craving the rush of the fear and not about to let anyone spoil their fun, however, frightened they might become. Seeing this look on Jill’s face, I remember thinking that Dee was just like her Old Man (as she called Luther). That she was just as much of a story-teller, knowing just how to play and reel in my intrigued wife. Who’d lived all her life in the safe world of home, college and the various middle-class places we’d called home.
“Jill, honey. Do you remember what it felt like the first time you put on a pretty party dress?”
Jill nodded her head.
“And do you remember a few years later, when you’d matured a little, when the boys were more interested and you were even more interested than the boys were? And do you remember how good it felt to sometimes tease them? Maybe every day in school, or at the prom?”
Jill nodded again, a half nostalgic smile on her face.
“Well, honey, that’s kinda how it feels. Only a million times stronger. It’s like a power rush, knowing you’ve got all these guys wrapped around your little finger. Knowing how much they want you and what they’d do to have you. It feels good, like a real buzz and sense of emancipation, especially if like me life has knocked you back and sent you to the bottom of the pile.”
Jill’s face looked a little puzzled. “But what about all the creeps? All the sweaty, ugly creeps who’d make your skin crawl if you caught them ogling you in the mall?”
Dee just laughed. “You just play a little game, try and get them to look even more hungry and pathetic, play them knowing you’re the winner, they’re the ones buying the over-priced drinks. And anyway, maybe you’re their only outlet. Maybe it’s like you’re providing some kinda social service.”
“I guess,” Jill replied, not sounding like she fully understood or believed, as Dee reached over to touch her arm, a mischievous look on her face.
“And anyway, honey, what about all the other guys. The young, handsome guys with fit bodies. Feeling their eyes wandering all over your body feels great. Knowing that, even though you’ve never met and don’t even know their names, they want you. They want to kiss every inch of your body. They want to hold and squeeze and play with your tits. They want to take you somewhere quiet and sink their big dicks into your body, and pound your little pussy until they dump their manliness deep into your womb. You can see it in their eyes, and they can see in your eyes that you’d happily let them do it. That’s the whole buzz and magic. All the social crap ripped away, feelings and lust raw and understood by both of you.”
She’d sucked Jill right in. The look on Jill’s face told me she was miles away, imagining herself dancing in front of some hot guy. Imagining the look they shared and what they’d do together in the quiet of the backroom or the alleyway outside.
Dee reached out to touch Jill’s arm again, the tiniest of sisterly signs of conspiracy. “What about you, Jill? You ever done anything like that? Maybe to help pay college fees? Or at some drunken frat party to encourage or reward some guy you were keen on?”
“No. Heaven’s sake, No,” my startled and slightly affronted wife’s high pitched voice spat back. “Dee, I’ve never done anything remotely like that, or even thought about doing anything like that.”
“Calm down, honey, it’s not like I’m accusing you of mass murder or something. Plenty of girls pay their way through college by shaking their booties, and plenty of girls get a little carried away to get the attention of some handsome young frat boy. I was just wondering, that’s all,” she smoothed, before smiling and teasing a little more. “After all, Jill baby, from what I hear, you ain’t exactly a saint. According to what I hear, you and Dave might like all vanilla and plain on the outside, but when you let your hair down, you really know how to party. What do they say, don’t judge a book by its cover?”
Now without the loosening effects of last night’s booze, my soccer mom Jill blushed, lost for a single word of reply.
Grinning broadly, Dee continued. “So if you never did anything like that, how come you and Mr. Straight-laced got into the swinging scene?” Another touch of the arm designed to build bonds and gently encourage my nervous wife to share.
Over the next few minutes, Jill slowly opened up, like one of those flowers blooming open on a nature show on a time-delayed photo. Bit-by-bit taking Dee through the story of how we’d dipped our toes, and how toe-dipping with Daryl led to Chris, and how Chris led to the current three-way tryst she was enjoying with Josh and Freddy.
When Jill had finished telling her story, Dee was all smiles and sisterly love. “You see, honey. It wasn’t exactly such a stretch. Imagining someone who could do all that naked and shaking their tail feathers. Shaking for a few dollars and maybe some smiles from some handsome guy or hunky young frat guy.”
“I guess,” came Jill’s giggly and slightly embarrassed reply.
As Dee poured another coffee for both of them, she made a casual throwaway comment. “Anyway, my old mum used to say ‘don’t speak until you’ve tried it’, we’ll have to get you and Dave along to one of Luther’s clubs, so you can see what it’s really like. And who knows, maybe it will give your budding inner Hemmingway just the inspiration she craves.”
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Minutes later I was feigning sleep as Jill’s warm body snuggled next to mine. Happy to have made it back to bed without discovery as Dee and Jill’s conversation had finally wound down.
“Honey, are you awake?” she asked me, her warm breath moist on my cheek. Getting no reply I felt her hand exploring under the sheets, finding what she desired and slowly bringing him back to life. Not that he needed much encouragement, as he’d been happily awake and swollen as he’d listened first to Dee’s tales from the clubs, and then the tales that were Jill regaling Dee with all our ups and downs.
I soon gave up on pretending to sleep and was looking up at what I considered the most beautiful face in the world. Enjoying the wonderful feeling of her pussy snug around me and squeezing me tight. Although in my mind not quite as tightly as it squeezed me before these last few months. Enjoying the wonderful feeling of her skin against my skin as she sat proud and tall and rode me like I was some prize stallion, letting me squeeze her big boobs and enjoy the sight of just how swollen with excitement her nipples were.
What a sight and what a glorious way to start a Saturday morning. Incapable of improvement until I sensed Jill’s breathing start to quicken and become more raspy and needy, prompting me to switch from hunted to hunter. My ego and masculinity demanding that I switch, pulling Jill down and underneath me where I could be in control. Looking down at her pleasure racked face as she closed her eyes and I fucked her, rather than letting her fuck me. As I slammed in and out as hard and strong as I could, my fifty-plus breathing deep and irregular with each new stroke, each stroke a little faster and deeper than the last.
Pulling her tight to me, covering that mouth I’d kissed so many times as I squeezed the life out of her. One final push, one final kiss as my balls exploded and shot my juices deep into her spasming body. Kissing each other with intense need and love as we both shook, giver and receiver enjoying that unique mummy-daddy bonding moment known to all adult humans.
It felt glorious afterward to lie there in someone else’s home, Jill’s soft hair splayed like some trophy of war on my gradually slowing chest, playing with that hair as our fingers playfully intertwined and united us again.
“Wow, something got your motor going this morning,” I teased.
“I could say the same thing myself, you didn’t do bad for an old man of fifty-plus,” she teased, using one of our favorite private jokes, Jill’s modest age in her mid-forties giving her bragging rights over the old man who lay by her side, trying to catch his breath.
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We didn’t see Luther before we left, Dee giving his apologies, saying he’d had to go to one of the local police precincts to sort a problem that had happened last night at one of his clubs. Driving the hour back to Coral Gables seeming to draw a magic curtain closed behind us, separating our safe middle-class world from the world of clubs, strippers and a life on the edge of criminality.
Not used to the late night and the booze, we were both tired and spoke little as we drove back. Happy just to hold hands as we drove, my mind semi-concentrating on the road and Jill’s mind concentrating on I don’t know what. Her expression showing her mind was somewhere else, most likely either in neutral or thinking through some of what Dee had told her. Or maybe a mix of the two, depending on how pickled the booze was making her feel at any moment.
John and Becky’s wedding was just two weeks away, so upon reaching home, I lost Jill to an hour-long chat with Becky’s mum Pamela. I wasn’t entirely upset with this, allowing me as it did to grab a short nap in my den, feeling Jill was in safer hands than during her last girl-to-girl chat. Pretty sure as I was that Pamela wouldn’t be trying to get Jill to do anything more extreme than try some exotic floral arrangements at the church, or possibly discuss the seating arrangements for the reception. Yes, a quick snooze was a low-risk option.
In some ways, mid-day naps are so pleasant, self-indulgent and refreshing. But I always find I feel a little disoriented and woozy as I wake up and try and work out why it’s not morning time and why I’m not breakfasting and rushing to work. And today was no exception as I shook myself awake and tried to make sense of the quiet voices coming from our kitchen.
Raucous laughter would have been understandable, a surefire marker for Charlotte’s presence visiting her best friend. Loud, slapping sounds of fucking likewise – one of our two, or possibly both of our neighbors. But quiet, whispered conversations and no car in the drive. My interest was piqued and I rubbed the sleep away and quietly moved to where I could hear clearly.
Callan. And more specifically, a slightly drunk and feeling sorry for himself Callan. His slightly slurred speech explaining the lack of car, even in the middle of the day. My recently napping and now slowly re-booting brain gradually keying into the conversation Callan was having with the girl he’d loved and dated all those years ago.
“You know, Jill, sometimes I just feel so very, very tired… like I don’t have the energy or will to go on anymore,” his tired and sad voice told the woman listening to him. Before, seeing the concerned look on Jill’s face, he clarified. “No, not like that, Jill. That’s not what I’m saying. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
Jill’s face relaxed, now less worried and more a mask of sympathy, reaching across the table to grasp her old boyfriend’s hand in a sign of compassion and caring.
Squeezing back, Callan continued his theme of self-pity and sadness. “You know something, Jill. I really envy guys like Dave and Chris. They have it all. And look at me. Failed marriage. Wife ran off with a younger guy. No kids. Only a lonely mid-life crisis and retirement to look forward to.”
“You know you could still make a go of it with Charlotte, if you wanted,” my loving and kind wife gently offered. Shot down seconds later. “That ship’s sailed,” the pain and hurt in his voice obvious.
“And, you know, all’s not sweetness and light for Dave and Chris. Look at all the problems me and Dave have had. And don’t even start about Chris. He’s a long way from home and from what he tells me things are so bad at the plant he might get fired any day now.”
But Callan wasn’t in the mood to be comforted, switching tack to a different topic. “You know Jill, there’s hardly a day goes by when I don’t regret what I did all those years ago. When I don’t wonder what might have been. What might have been if I’d followed my instincts and been a bit more persistent? Less dazzled by you know who.”
Jill looked confused and uncomfortable, but Callan wasn’t about to drop it.
“You know there was more than one time I came looking for you. To tell you how wrong I was. To ask you to forgive me and take me back. But I guess fate had other ideas. You were out and I just saw Dave instead. Hell, we might be friends now, but that night I nearly punched him. Standing where I should have been.”
Sympathy turned to exasperation. “Remember, it was you who left me. Remember! And I don’t know what I’d have done if Dave hadn’t been there for me. Helped me rebuild my trust in men … after you’d done your darnedest to destroy it …”
“Sorry,” then a pained and awkward silence as they each lost themselves in their very different memories of all those years ago. Before Callan returned to the fray, this time his voice softer with a more apologetic pitch.
“Jill, tell me honestly. Do you ever wonder what might have been? Between you and me? If things had been different? If I’d have found you? What might have been? If we’d have had kids? What they might have looked like?”
Jill paused. Paused a long time before answering, and I felt my heart sinking, my world disappearing into a rapidly expanding sinkhole of emotion and emptiness. It was only a hypothetical, right, but even ideas have the power to terrify and traumatize. As I saw the heads of each of my kids disappear in a puff of smoke. The faces I knew and loved replaced by variations on Callan’s features and genes, as if by some black magic he’d robbed me of all the people I loved and my very essence.
It was only Jill’s clearing of her throat that brought me back from this nightmare scenario. Back to the here and now as I willed Jill’s answer to be what I needed to hear.
“Of course I sometimes wonder. What woman wouldn’t? I loved you. Loved you more than you ever knew. Before you threw it all away. Broke my heart, and stomped all over it,” Jill finally answered. “But like you said, that ship already sailed. I love Dave with all my heart. He helped me put myself back together, and he’s been the man I’ve built my life and my family with. And, whatever I might occasionally wonder, I’d not change any of that for a single minute.”
Hearing Jill’s words, it was like I was torn left and right. Hurt and pained by her pause and admission that of course she sometimes wondered. Proud, puffed-up and reassured by what she’d then said about how she loved me and wouldn’t change a single minute of our lives together.
As Jill’s words sank in, there was a contrite, guilty look on Callan’s face. “Sorry, Jill. I never meant to hurt you so. But the truth is, I loved two girls at the same time. And hell, I was young and didn’t know what to do.” Their hands joined again in memory of a love long lost, Jill now her normal forgiving and less angry self. “And Jill, honey, I am really sorry. But you above all people know how hard it can be. When you love two guys at the same time.”
There were almost tears in his eyes as he said this, and Jill just squeezed his hand again. Just the slightest of smiles, hardly discernible, telling Callan that she understood.
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Shortly afterward Jill ushered her ex into the Uber she’d hailed, telling him to go home and get some rest. Recommending he speak to Charlotte, but that if during the week he still felt down and needed to talk to someone, he should give her a call. Finally parting with a friendly hug, slightly longer than a normal hug, Callan seemingly reluctant to let go of his comfort blanket.
The drama now over, I headed into the shower. Needing the rejuvenating and awakening power of the hot jets. Also needing a little time and space to get my head together. To think through what I’d just heard. To soak and work out what I was feeling. Whether it changed anything.
I’ve never been very good at feelings. Brought up by my parents to be more intellectual than emotional, I often had to soak in my feelings to really work out how I felt. Not confident to make a snap judgment and get it right. Standing there under those playful little jets bouncing off my soapy body, I felt a strange feeling of self-awareness.
As if all the explicit events and memories of the last few months were magically merging with things I’d maybe not thought about in years. Or maybe never thought about. Things about Jill and me that maybe I’d always been too frightened to face up to.
And this sudden moment of self-realization and clarity left me feeling on a strange emotional high. My mind filled with a mental picture of a man on a high wire above the Niagara Falls. Enjoying the buzz and the adrenaline rush of danger, but aware of the perils that lay below. Realizing that a big part of me had always felt insecure in my relationship with Jill, aware of our start on the rebound and that she could have done better. Another part, hearing her echoing words of how she loved me with all her heart and wouldn’t change a moment of our lives together.
In that singular moment of crystallized clarity, I guess I realized why the game we were playing tore me in so many different directions. Simultaneously up and down, left and right in a confusing kaleidoscope of emotions and feelings.
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I don’t quite know where this train of thought might have headed if the steamed-up door of tempered glass hadn’t been opened up by a very naked and a very desirable Jill at that moment. Every single curve of her forty-five-year-old body, still as desirable and arousing as it had been all those years ago when I’d first seen her naked.
The swell of her large breasts helping my brain switch the valve to start blood flooding to my cock. The beauty and love in her face raising my heartbeat step by step, until I felt like a high school freshman gazing on the prom queen about to ask him out on a date. Knowing I had the love of this amazing woman. Had it today, had it the last twenty over years and would have it tomorrow. Whatever the dangers and rushing waters might look like from up here on the high wire we’d built together these last months.
Jill gave me the softest of kisses, the naughtiest of smiles and pulled my hands to the rising and falling flesh that was the soft and heavy flesh of her breasts. Moaning and sighing just a little as I squeezed and played, my instinct telling me her little smile was happiness that I still desired her so painfully after all these years. Our love was equal and deep in so many ways, but deep down we both knew she loved the fact I’d always be the freshman to her prom queen. A loving and loyal husband and friend, head over heels with the girl who was two or three steps above me on the podium. This love, the bedrock of everything we’d built between us, and then the three little humans we’d spawned, nurtured and loved from this most solid of foundations.
A second, breathless and tender kiss gave way to me looking down on the top of Jill’s head, as she knelt on the wet tiles and took me in her mouth. Performing that most intimate of services for the man she loved. Taking me deep into her mouth, as far back as she could, her hands moving to tickle and play with my balls. Her head soon bobbing up and down as she used her spare hand to stroke and encourage the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
Up and down, up and down her head bobbed. Time after time. Bob after bob, until my slightly louder moan and tightened fingers in her hair, told her she needed to ease off. Ease off or get ready to drink me down.
I guessed right, that she’d go for option one. Still fired up by last evening and her chat with Dee. About Dee’s life as a seductress, told with honesty and humor, told in a way guaranteed to entice.
And so now suitably hard, I was led by my hard dick towards the bed. Maybe not as large as Daryl, Chris or her black toy boys next door, but certainly big enough to meet Jill’s needs of the moment. Dried off and once again encouraged to lie down and make myself available so Jill could ride me. Round two from where we’d left off earlier. After she’d snuggled next to me, all fired up after her chat about the stripping life with Dee.
I had a strong sense of déjà vu, content for the moment to lie there and be used by Jill. To let her do the work as her warm and wet pussy surrounded and enveloped me, rubbing up and down and squeezing every single nerve ending in that piece of flesh that defines a man.
She looked so damned hot. Eyes closed as she maneuvered for the perfect angle and depth. Breasts like ripe, tempting fruit, bouncing up and down in a way designed to captivate, like the original fruit which had suckered and done for Adam in the garden. Jill’s beautiful face set off by the surround of her long brown hair. Like a large carat diamond in a setting of white gold.
I was a man in heaven. Great job, great family, great wife and best friend. Lying there being ridden by a woman who loved me and needed me physically. Life didn’t get much better than this – the Niagara Falls could wait.
I enjoyed this lazy and indulgent pleasure just a little longer, before repeating the trick from the morning. Wrapping my arms around Jill’s waist and rolling so she was now underneath me. Happy that I’d not slipped out of her during the move. Able to pick up and keep the stroke going, now doing to Jill what she’d been doing to me.
Loving the possessive way she wrapped her shapely legs around my back. Happy to be owned by my mistress. Owned just as my cock deep in her pussy was returning the compliment. Joining our flesh together as she accepted me deep into her body, the most intimate and significant gesture a woman can make. Only topped by the ultimate act, carrying a man’s child in her body.
They say that sex is ninety percent in the mind, and with all the thoughts and emotions of earlier swirling around in my head, I plowed deep and fast into Jill. Loving the way she moaned and responded. My wife lost in the moment with me, all the men and events of the last days and months just a blurred memory in the rearview.
Faster and faster I went, hearing so clearly that Jill was on the same road as me, both of us nearly there, no thought of slowing, only of acceleration and pushing deeper and faster and harder. Fuck, fuck, I knew I was close and I knew Jill was about the same. Making one final lunge, making one final shout as my balls finished, shooting me deep into Jill, hearing her squeal and moan and feeling her body go rigid as we came together.
Both surfing the heavens before slowly, inevitably we started descending the other side. Eyes opened, smiles coyly shared and my weight rolled to one side as we cuddled up and just looked at each other. Suddenly teenagers again, no longer the middle-aged couple awaiting the seal of mid-life, the first wedding of our offspring.
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After the long, boozy pleasures of the previous evening with Luther and Dee, I’d really fancied a quiet night in. But our new friends had other ideas.
It was six-thirty on that Saturday evening when I saw Luther’s large Lincoln Navigator pull into our drive, seconds later his top-heavy blonde girlfriend Dee skipping towards our door. Dressed in a way that told me our evening was about to be hijacked and taken in a very different direction.
(Thanks to cbears52 for all the editing help.)
