Awakenings Ch. 06

I closed my eyes and imagined Jeanne and a strange man together in the back seat of his car. It would be a luxury sedan, maybe a Mercedes Benz or a Lexus. They were making out. Jeanne's blouse was unbuttoned and her brassiere was unfastened. The man was fondling her exposed breasts.

Jeanne unbuckled the man's belt, pulled down his zipper, opened his suit pants and took out his cock. He was hard. She leaned down, slipped it into into her mouth and started sucking him just like she was sucking me.

Suddenly I heard Jeanne giggling and then I realized that she'd stopped sucking my cock. I opened my eyes.

She was looking at me. "Michael, what were you just thinking about? Baby I've never seen your cock this hard."

Feeling a little embarrassed, I said; "Nothing, I was just enjoying what you were..." I stopped myself in mid sentence. I was expecting Jeanne to tell me the truth. She had every right to expect the same honesty from me.

Still a little embarrassed about admitting what I'd really been thinking, I quietly said; "I was imagining you giving a guy a blow job in the back seat of his car in the parking lot behind Brady's Saloon."

Jeanne stared at me. After a moment she asked; "And that got you excited?"

Suddenly overwhelmed with shame I shrugged and looked away.

Quickly grasping the stress this admission was causing me, Jeanne said; "Baby, I'm not judging you or criticizing you. I'm really not. In fact I think it's unbelievably hot and kinky. I love it."

Jeanne was still holding my cock, but the nervous tension I'd just felt was causing me to lose my erection. Realizing it, Jeanne bent over and sucked me again. Relieved by her reaction I relaxed. My cock stiffened immediately.

As soon as I was hard again Jeanne pulled herself up and straddled my hips. Grinning at me she said; "Wanna tell me about it while we fuck?"

Laughing, I answered; "Isn't that kind of kinky?"

With a glint in her eyes, Jeanne said, "Damn right big boy." And then she lowered herself onto my cock. She was so wet that I slipped right into her. When the old Jeanne and I had sex she usually had to use a commercial lubricant. The new Jeanne didn't need that.

As soon as I was all the way inside her Jeanne leaned forward and started rubbing my nipples with her fingertips. "Michael play with my tits while we fuck."

I reached up with both hands and began massaging Jeanne's large breasts.

She smiled and said; "I love it when a guy plays with my tits."

"You have beautiful tits. I'll bet they all enjoy playing with them."

"They do. Is that okay? Is it all right that I let other men play with my tits?"

Remembering my conversation with Charles Montgomery, I said; "You enjoy it. You just told me that."

"Yes I do."

"Then it's all right. I love you. I want you to enjoy yourself."

"Does it excite you Michael? Does it excite you when you think about other men playing with my tits?"

"It does right now."

"Because you're aroused."

"Yes."

Grinning at me, Jeanne said; "Then I guess I'll have to keep you perpetually aroused."

I laughed. "That could be fun."

"I think so too."

Up to this point Jeanne had just been sitting on my cock. Now she started to rock back and forth. She moved slowly, rhythmically. I remembered her comment that sex and dancing were closely related. She was dancing with me. I liked it.

"Tell me what you were thinking about a moment ago. You know, while I was sucking your cock."

It seemed like I should have been embarrassed, but I wasn't. Jeanne had become so free and open about sex that I felt like I could reveal even my deepest and most secret fantasies to her.

I was also incredibly aroused. My gorgeous wife of twenty-seven years had just sucked my cock. Now she was on top of me; slowly fucking me while she played with my nipples and I fondled her big beautiful breasts. At that moment talking about a kinky fantasy seemed like one more tantalizing spice.

Still, it was a little scary. I was the product of years of social conditioning. A proper husband wasn't supposed to get excited when he imagined his wife sucking another man's cock.

I immediately understood. This was exactly what Jeanne was trying to explain to me. Just because people tell you something is wrong doesn't make it wrong. As long as no one is getting hurt, we all have the right and even the obligation to live by our own moral code. When Jeanne sucked a guy off in the parking lot behind Brady's Saloon she wasn't hurting anybody and when I got excited imagining her doing it I wasn't hurting anyone either.

I'm a voyeur. I've known that for years. I love watching adult movies. A lot of other people do too. The adult film industry is huge. This was just another form of voyeurism.

Suddenly I was not only willing to tell Jeanne what I'd been imagining, I wanted to tell her. Grinning and excited I said; "I was imagining you were with a man you'd just met in Brady's Saloon. The two of you were in the back seat of his car."

Still slowly rocking back and forth on my cock, Jeanne said, "It was parked in a dark corner of the parking lot, a place where no one would see us."

"It was a big sedan."

"It was a Buick, a large black Buick with a spacious back seat. What did the man look like?"

"He was a little younger than me, maybe forty or forty-one."

"Was he handsome?"

"Very, he was tall and fit too. It was easy to see why you were attracted to him."

"I was. The moment I saw him in the bar I knew I wanted him. Tell me what we were doing in the back seat of his car."

"You were making out with him."

"Yes I was. I love making out with guys."

"Your blouse was unbuttoned and your brassiere was unfastened."

"Was he playing with my tits?"

"Yes."

"What was I doing?"

"You were unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants."

"I was eager to see his cock."

"Did he have a big cock?"

"Not really. It wasn't as big as yours, but it was still nice."

"How did you know that?"

"Before we left for the parking lot we made out in one of the back booths in the bar. I played with it while we made out."

"Tell me why you were eager to see his cock."

"I love cocks. I love looking at them, I love playing with them, I love sucking them and I love getting fucked by them. I'm a slut Michael, you're married to a slut. Is that okay? I hope it is because I love being a slut."

"And it doesn't hurt anybody else."

"Not even you? Does it hurt you Michael?"

"Sometimes, not as much as it did at first. Now I'm starting to enjoy it."

"I'm glad. I want you to enjoy it. I want us to be able to enjoy it together."

"I'm a voyeur Jeanne. I always have been."

"I know. You've always liked dirty movies. That used to bother me when I was a prude. It doesn't anymore. Now I'm glad you like them. Now I want you to watch them. I want you to watch them and imagine that I'm the woman in the movie."

"And you're sucking another man's cock."

"Yes, I'm sucking another man's cock."

During this exchange Jeanne had gradually been increasing the tempo of her movement. Now she was rocking back and forth on my cock with relentless abandon. I let go of her breasts, slid my hands down to her rear and started bucking my hips in time with her rocking.

Jeanne cried; "Yes Michael, that's what I want. Fuck me! Fuck me hard!

She let go of my nipples and started massaging her clit with the fingers of both of her hands. We forgot about fantasies and talking and concentrated all of our attention on fucking.

I felt the familiar warm glow building in my loins.

Suddenly Jeanne's body stiffened and then she arched her back and cried, "I'm cumming!"

As her body started to shake the first spurt of my semen erupted into Jeanne's cunt. We were both consumed by a storm of orgasmic ecstasy. The storm raged for several seconds before it began to abate. Gradually we both relaxed.

Leaning forward Jeanne placed a hand on each side of my shoulders to support herself and then she looked down at me and smiled. I grinned up at her. She giggled and said; "That was wonderful."

I nodded. "It really was."

"I love you Michael."

"I love you too Jeanne."

Jeanne lowered herself to my chest. She sighed as my softening cock slipped out of her cunt. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly to me.

She whispered, "I could spend the rest of my life right here in your arms."

I smiled. "That would be okay with me."

We held each other for several minutes. Finally Jeanne rolled off of me and said; "That was wonderful. I'm pretty sure that was the first time you and I ever orgasmed at the same time."

"I believe you're right."

"It was fun."

"Yes it was. Have you ever had a simultaneous orgasm with one of your other men?"

Jeanne was silent. After a moment she said; "Yes, I suppose that is a fair question. From now on I'll have to be careful about how I phrase statements like that. No Michael, I haven't. You're the only person I've ever orgasmed with simultaneously."

"It would have been okay if it had already happened with another man. It's going to happen. It's inevitable."

"Yes, I suppose it is. I cum a lot easier now than I used to."

"Yes you do."

"Is that okay? Does it bother you that I cum when I'm with other men?"

"No, not at all. In fact I'm glad you do. I love you, I want you to enjoy yourself."

"That's the second time you've said that tonight. It's an interesting position to take."

"Why? I do love you. I should want you to be happy."

"Yes and while I am grateful that you feel that way, I don't think it's the position that most husbands would take."

"Most women your age don't suddenly decide to become sluts." I paused and then I quickly said, "Was it okay that I said that? I wasn't trying to be demeaning."

"It was fine. I know you weren't trying to be demeaning. I like the term. It makes me feel free. The people who view it as a pejorative are the same ugly judgmental people who preach the puritan dogma that kept me inhibited for most of my life."

Chuckling, I said; "My wife is a slut and I'm starting to like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think I am. It certainly has its benefits."

"What do you mean?"

"Jeanne, I just had the best sex of my entire life. I never even imagined that it could be that good."

"It was fun, wasn't it."

"Yes it was and so what if you occasionally go out with another man. As long as you keep me well satisfied it really doesn't hurt me. Actually I'm finding that it compliments my voyeurism."

"Baby, I will keep you well satisfied. I promise." Jeanne giggled. "It will be a labor of love. I also promise to always tell you about my dates when I get home. That way you can enjoy them too."

"I'd like that."

Jeanne was quiet. After a moment she said; "Michael?"

"Yes."

"Since you seem to be adapting to all of this so well do you think that maybe you might be able to come home a little earlier than you planned?"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry Jeanne, I'd like to do that, I really would; but I can't risk it."

"Why not?"

"I need time to get used to all of this. It's much easier to accept your dating when I'm two thousand miles away. Jeanne that evening you went out with Derek Fischer was the worst night of my life. Seeing you with your hair done, all made up and wearing a new dress and knowing it was for another man was unbelievably painful. Watching him kiss you on our front lawn was awful and then hearing that he'd taken you to the Kennsington Grill and you held his hand during dinner was unbearable."

"Michael I'm so sorry I did those things. I was a thoughtless bitch. I'd give anything to be able to go back and change all of it."

"Jeanne I wasn't trying to drag all of that up again. We've discussed what happened that night. You apologized and made an effort to explain how it happened. I've accepted your apology and understand what happened. I only brought it up so that you can understand why I can't come home right away."

"But Michael I won't make those same mistakes again. I promise."

"Jeanne they really weren't mistakes."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you enjoy getting dressed up for a date? Isn't that part of the fun. Earlier you told me that you love making out with guys. When you bring a guy home so you can entertain him in your play room won't you want to kiss him in our living room or maybe hold his hand?

"On the evenings I have dates I could get ready at Tricia's apartment. I'm sure she wouldn't mind. I wouldn't have to bring my dates home. We could go to a motel. You wouldn't see me until I came home. That could work, couldn't it?"

"I thought about something like that, only I was the one who would leave. I could stay at a motel while you prepared for your date and then entertained him at home. I almost had myself convinced that it would work, but it wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"It makes dating inconvenient for you. Even if I'm the one who leaves. I know you. You're a considerate person. Every time I have to leave you'll feel guilty that your inconveniencing me. Either way, whether you leave or I leave; I'm afraid you'll start to limit the number of times you go out with other men. Jeanne when I come home you still have to be able to freely live your new life as a slut and I have to be able to fully accept what you're doing. If you have to start limiting your behavior in order to appease me I think it's likely that you'll start resenting me. If that happens I fear that it will be the beginning of the end of our marriage."

Jeanne nodded.

I continued. "Before I can come home I have to reach a point where I can be comfortable watching television in the den while you entertain a man in your play room."

"Do you think you can reach that point?"

"Before this weekend I would have said probably not, but talking to you has helped. The wonderful sex is helping too."

"Michael I'm sorry. You should have been benefiting from my new attitude about sex long before I started dating."

"I know. We've discussed that too. I understand why that didn't happen and you're doing a good job of taking care of that now."

"I'm trying, I really am.

"Yes you are."

Michael earlier tonight you told me that we can have more weekend get togethers like this one. Can we really do that."

"Of course we can. In fact I think they're essential. I also intend to create a new email address for your use only and before you go home I'll give you my cell phone number. I now realize that we need to talk regularly."

"Thank you, not being able to communicate directly with you was awful."

"I'm sorry I had to cut off communication with you. I needed some time to heal."

"I'm sorry I hurt you."

"That's over, now it's time to start rebuilding our life together."

"Michael I can't begin to tell you how much I want to do that."

"I know Jeanne, I want that too."