“Sara,” Amelia hesitated, “there’s another list that we need volunteers for…”
“Anything I can do to help, Amelia. I’d be glad to.”
“Maybe you’d better hear me out first. You know how Kathy is, right? She is so committed to being the best teacher, and the best mother, and the best wife – the best wife in every way. Sometimes it drives the rest of us crazy. “
I nodded. “Why, has she got some sort of cleaning fetish or something? I’ve already said I don’t mind doing the housework once in a while.”
“No, it’s not cleaning. It has to do with Matt.”
“Her husband?”
“Yes. You see, Kathy has this idea of what a perfect wife should be, right?”
“I know, Amelia. I’ve heard it all before. How she always has an epicurean meal on the table when he comes home from work; how she keeps the house immaculate; how she always dresses to perfection when he is around. That is so 1950’s! Honestly, I don’t know how she does all that and teaches too. But we’ve got all that covered, don’t we? We bring meals and clean her house and even do the laundry. Teachers always support each other.”
“Yes, and she and Matt are eternally grateful for all the help that’s been offered. But there is just one other thing, one very important thing that in her mind is being neglected, and the anxiety is driving her crazy.”
“I can’t imagine what it would be.”
Amelia sighed. “I visited her after her latest chemo infusion. Remember how sick she was the first time she had chemo? Well, now she’s much worse. It seems like she’s gotten weaker and sicker every cycle. Anyway, when I stopped by she was so upset and it troubled me. I begged her to say how else her friends could help her. At first she wouldn’t, saying it was more than any woman could ask of another. I insisted. I demanded. And finally she owned up.”
She was silent for a moment as she contemplated how best to frame the problem, then continued.
“You see, it’s about her husband Matt. You know how devoted she is to him, and he to her. If two people were ever meant for each other, it’s Matt and Kathy, right? And his support for Kathy during this ordeal has been an inspiration to all of us. And it’s been an inspiration to you, Sara. I’ve heard you speak of it.”
I nodded in agreement, feeling rather impatient with her roundabout way of getting to the point. “That’s one reason so many of us have volunteered to help poor Kathy, Amelia. But what are you trying to say? Where is this going? Does Matt need help, too?”
Amelia brightened. “Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly! Matt needs help too. He would never ask for it – you know how men are – but still, he needs help. The longer the treatments go the more he suffers. And Kathy knows it but there’s just nothing she can do about it right now. And maybe not for a long time to come,” she emphasized meaningfully.
I was mystified. “What kind of help does Matt need? Choosing clothes to wear to work? A sympathetic ear?” I laughed. “Bedroom help?”
Amelia just looked at me expectantly.
“What?” I sputtered. “You can’t be serious!”
She sat placidly, not saying a word.
“Oh, Amelia, no! Absolutely not! I’m married! No way! My husband would divorce me if he ever found out. And besides, I could never cheat on him. Never!”
“Now, dear, it’s not really cheating, is it? It’s not like you’d be having an affair with Matt. It’s more like being a substitute, like you sometimes have a substitute in your classroom. A substitute to help poor Kathy out and temporarily take her place doing a necessary task that, right now, she simply can’t do herself. And like you said, teachers always support each other. I knew I could count on you.” And somehow, just like that, I was on the List.
I nearly wept when I dropped supper off at Kathy’s house that night. Her appearance was shocking for a woman who was always so impeccably groomed. Her beautiful face was gaunt and pale. Her hair had fallen out weeks ago, even her eyebrows and eyelashes. She lay shivering under a down comforter on her couch although the living room felt uncomfortably warm to me. Thank goodness the chemo was effective and the round of tests after the third cycle had shown she was free of the disease, but she had to complete the full six cycles anyway and the chemo was ravaging her body. My heart hurt for her.
“Sara,” she rasped. “Amelia said that she asked you to sign up for the Sparkle List.” She laughed weakly. “That’s what I call it. Sort of like the Meal List.” And in characteristically blunt fashion she spoke for a half hour about Matt and his needs, about how she pleased him, and by the time she finished my embarrassment was surpassed only by my arousal. Matt desires were wide ranging and robust and Kathy was his enthusiastic partner. I never imagined that a married couple could make love so often and in so many ways. And never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed that respectable, oh-so-proper Kathy was such a minx in the bedroom. Much of what she suggested made me blush and I wondered if I was the only lady on the Sparkle List with such limited experience.
My day was Monday.
The drive to Matt and Kathy’s had been far too short. I pulled into their driveway, shut off the engine, and sat gathering my courage, for I was not at all sure that I would actually go through with this. I thought my husband Carl might be suspicious, but he barely acknowledged that I was leaving, so engrossed he was in the football game. My heart was pounding, and my mouth was dry, and all the doubts that had swirled through my mind during the preceding week came back in a last bid to destroy my confidence.
Carl was the only man I had ever been with. He was a thoughtful spouse, kind and generous, a good provider and wonderful father, but somehow marriage had been such a letdown, nothing like the happily-ever-after I had imagined as a girl. We argued over laundry. We argued over money. We argued over whose turn it was to clean the toilets. Conversation was mostly via text message and somewhere along the way he had decided farting in bed was OK. Sex was scheduled twice a month on our family calendar using the code word “nap” sandwiched in between soccer practice and doctor’s appointments. Two minutes to kiss then five minutes of in-and-out followed by a warm washcloth afterwards. Once in a while I managed a feeble orgasm but mostly I just wanted to get it over with.
I was tired of happily-ever-after. I longed to be someone’s right-now.
I rang and let myself in. Kathy huddled under a blanket on the sofa as I’d seen her last. She smiled wanly and whispered, “Thanks, Sara. I’ll never forget what you’re doing for me. The kids are in bed, Matt is in the bedroom waiting, and you can use the hall bathroom. Remember – follow the plan that I made up for you and things will go well. Good luck!”
In the bathroom I nervously tightened the laces of the sheer peaches-and-cream corset Kathy had provided for the evening and daubed a touch of perfume – her perfume – behind each ear, then after a moment’s hesitation, between my breasts and on the inside of my thighs as well and mentally checked items one and two of the Plan off the list.
I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening after six years of colorless marriage. After six years of vicariously living through the lives of characters in steamy romance novels. And now I myself was a character in a story, a play actor, assuming the personality of someone very different than myself.
Every muscle in my body was taut with stage fright. My hands made a final check, smoothing the wrinkles from the frilly corset then venturing down to caress myself through yellow lace panties. I closed my eyes and stroked the furrow between my lips, circling the hard bump of my clitoris before slipping my hand inside the silky material to cup my hot, heavy puss. A shaky breath stuttered across my lips as two fingers slipped through slick folds.
I paused with my hand on the bedroom door, willing myself to be confident, sexy, alluring. My knock was more assured than I felt. Immediately the door swung open and an electric current of adrenaline surged through my body. Show time. Matt, clad only in boxer shorts, gave a welcoming grin, a hug, and a kiss.
“You look amazing tonight, Kathy!” he exclaimed, then took my arm and guided me inside. “It’s been so long. How I’ve missed you!
Oh, God he was gorgeous.
He held me at arm’s length for a moment to look me over and gave a little gasp. My hands instinctively flew to protect my modesty, but I caught myself just in time and instead ran my fingers delicately through my hair. I smiled coyly at him, trying my best to be adorably suggestive, according to Kathy’s Plan.
“Matt loves for me to behave like I’m cute and sexy,” Kathy had instructed. “It brings out the protective instincts in him and makes him feel more masculine and being masculine really turns him on. Be submissive to him, let him lead. Exude your feminine side.”
My feminist friends would have a cow.
I twisted one way then the other, showing my curves then let my hands follow the contours of my sides down to my hips to toy with the waistband of my panties. I glimpsed the hump in his jockeys and realized Matt had an erection. A quite sizeable one if I wasn’t mistaken. I blushed and tipped my head slightly, peeping at him from under my eyebrows.
“Take those off.” His voice was soft, deep, and firm. I was being commanded, not asked. A perverse thrill shivered through me. His eyes followed as I peeled the scrap of lace down my thighs revealing my hidden secrets to his scrutiny.
“S-l-o-w-l-y”, Kathy had said. He knelt and ran a strong hand up my calf, cool fingers on fevered skin, paused to savor my softness, then brusquely grasped my panties and jerked them to my ankles in one motion. I slipped my feet from them and watched him lift the gusset to his nose.
I had never felt so sexy in my entire life. No one had ever done that for me before. My thighs pressed together against the sudden pounding ache in my loins. I wanted him so badly that I trembled. Oh, God, Kathy! I was not supposed to feel that way. I was only supposed to be your substitute. But the longing, the desperate, clawing need that had been missing from my life through six years of marriage turned my blood into liquid desire coursing through every throbbing cell of my body.
“Spread your legs,”
I did, a little, and sharply he ordered, “Wider.”
My heart pounded against my chest as if it would burst through. I parted my thighs further. Kathy had told me what he liked, what to expect next. I was so jittery I could barely breathe.
Matt was hard, his erection a visible ridge beneath his boxers. “Now- touch yourself. Lightly at first, then harder.”
I had never before masturbated with another person in the room. Carl used to ask if I did it but I had always lied and said no. I would die if he knew, but the truth was that sometimes, when the need became too great and I was very alone, I sought relief through swift fingers. Erotic scenes from the stories I read played through my mind until the tension built, and waves crashed and I came with a cry. But afterwards I felt guilty and ashamed and it would be a long time before I again surrendered to compulsion.
But now it was different. Tonight, I stood in Kathy’s place. Kathy did this for him and, for her sake, so would I.
My hesitant hand skimmed through my furrow to dip moisture from the well of my vagina then traced upwards again coated in the evidence of my mounting desire. I smoothed the silky wetness over my clitoris and into the neatly trimmed strip of hair on my mound.
Matt wordlessly watched me rub my clit in slow circles. Kathy stood like this for him, her legs opened, her pussy wantonly exposed, gleaming wet while he stood there in his boxers and became ever more aroused at the sight. Tonight, I would do things with Matt that I had never done before with anyone else, and that knowledge spiked my arousal higher until droplets of moisture trickled down my thighs. I stroked harder, faster, and I shuddered in pleasure.
A greedy longing blotted away all thought. My stomach fluttered and there was a swelling sensation deep in my core that compelled my thighs together in a desperate attempt to relieve the building pressure. Matt’s lips slowly moved down my jaw, trailing delicious, feather-light kisses along the curve of my neck until gentle teeth nipped my shoulder.
Suddenly Matt stood and freed my breasts from the cups of my corset. Before I had time to even gasp, he pulled me down, set me naked on his lap and devoured my nipples in a questing hunger that stripped my soul bare as my body. This isn’t a real thing! I reminded myself over and over as I desperately clung to my role as a substitute, but his marvelous mouth was telling me something far different.
The old Sara quavered on the edge of obliteration. Effortlessly he lifted me with a smoothness that only comes with strength and laid me gently on Kathy’s bed. His piercing sea-grey eyes never wavered as he purposefully shed his boxers and stood gloriously naked by the bed. Oh, God! He was pure perfection, from the dark, slightly mussed hair on his head to the very soles of his feet. His body was finely muscled and his erection stood proud, a wielded weapon aimed straight at my core.
His mouth again sucked my distended nipple deep into the warmth of his mouth as my fingers scrabbled through his thick hair, tugging on the short strands, trying to hold him in place to quench the ache in my breasts. But instead of relief a new awareness spread lower in my body. Warmth radiated through my loins punctuated by bolts of sensation as he explored the sensitive skin of my stomach and mound, savoring my smell and every inch of my abdomen. Matt grazed his lips over my navel as my tummy rose and fell and my breathing became more animated. He positioned his shoulders under my thighs and gazed at my secret place, murmuring his wonder and approval before kissing the inside of my right thigh, then sucking the inside of my left.
What was wrong with me? Why did I feel this way? Could sex really be like this? I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. Heat washed through my torso and fetched up in my pussy, swelling my lower lips and opening the fountains of my deep. He inhaled my fragrance appreciatively then dipped his head and… and… Oh my God, he kissed me down there.
My husband had tried to please me with his mouth, early in our marriage. I would lay on my back bored and frustrated while he lay between my legs lapping at me like a thirsty dog until his tongue got tired and he mounted me for a few quick thrusts. After a while he didn’t try anymore, and I had convinced myself that I was just one of those women who didn’t like cunnilingus. In five minutes, Matt had utterly destroyed that myth. I loved cunnilingus and decided on the spot that I simply could not live longer without it.
Matt nuzzled my moistening folds, seeming to revel in my scent, tasting me with a long, flat tongue. He must have found the flavor gratifying because he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me closer to his face until his mouth was buried deep in my folds, soaked in my wetness. His tongue danced and twirled like a dervish in a wicked waltz that altered and shifted in response to my gasps and moans. My body no longer seemed to respond to my brain and of its own accord ground my loins against the entirety of his torturing mouth, using him as an instrument to orchestrate the crescendo of my desire.
He flicked his tongue across my pearl like a stick on a snare drum. Fingers traced the edges of my slick opening, slipped easily inside and just like that my smoldering fire ignited into a raging inferno. I gasped quicker and faster and my walls closed tight on his fingers and my body clenched tight.
It started as a warm sensation in my center that rapidly waxed in intensity as it spread in waves to my furthest extremities. A guttural moan from far away penetrated my fogged mind and it was a moment before I realized it came from me. Matt’s tongue – his wonderful tongue – stabbed deep, and I arched reflexively against questing lips just as his thumb discovered the perfect rhythm on my sensitive sweet spot. “Oh my God!” I gasped. “It’s going to happen!” His fingers gave my nipple a final twist, my eyes rolled back, and the last tatters of decorum were swept under by the staggering cataclysm convulsing my body. An earthquake of pleasure surged through rigid muscles shuddering in joyous release and all I could do was hang on as I rode a roller coaster to ecstasy.
When I was again myself I was aware that Matt was propped on his elbow beside me, gazing intensely into my eyes. I wanted him in me, his weight on top of me. I wanted to squeeze him in further and further and watch his face.
I got on top of him. I’d never done it before. I couldn’t really believe I was doing it now. I was inventing something. I grasped the iron shaft of his cock and rubbed the head back and forth in my still soaked furrow until I couldn’t stand it anymore and plunged down on him until he was deep inside. Never will I forget that moment. It was if every ridge, every vein of his unyielding manhood was forever imprinted on the walls of my clasping sheath. I held his hands down and made him lay still as I savored the feeling. He pretended to try to break free and I bent over and allowed my nipples to graze his face. He went mad. He bucked. He split me in two. I pushed down and he pushed up. One of his fingers flicked over my bottom hole. I did it to him. He lifted and heaved. I sucked him. He licked me. He did something, I copied him. I did something, he did it back. He took me from behind. I pushed back, forced more of him in, strove to get more of his cock into me so that it filled my body and left nothing else inside. The whole room rocked.
At the end Matt was on top, grunting like an animal. I arched against him, so close. It was his turn now to lean in, each warm breath riffling the hair at my temple, tantalizing heat radiating from his body. My hands cupped his muscular butt and pulled him into me as he thrust until I was utterly filled. With each stroke the head of his cock rubbed a sweet spot inside me and the strength of what was building was staggering, mind-blowing. So close. Every muscle was drawn taut. It was almost too much. My body was going to be blown to dust, atoms, when it hit. I felt tight and hot and wet and when I felt the first warm spurt inside me I came apart and just for a moment I felt like a comet whizzing through the cosmos, unbound, glorious, and free.
But then I crashed to earth. What had I done? Somewhere I had forgotten about the plan completely and acted like this was all for me. What would Kathy say if she knew?
—
“It was for Kathy – for Kathy’s sake,” Amelia soothed sympathetically, her hand on my arm. “You did a wonderful thing.”
I stared dumbly at her, unable to speak. She patted me again and stood to go. Finally, I found my voice.
“Amelia… if you should need more volunteers for the list, I suppose I wouldn’t mind so much if I had to do it again.”
