Igniting the Tinder of Lust Ch. 01

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Husband pushes his wife until her hidden lust is ignited.
16.8k words
303.7k
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/12/2023
Created 04/02/2017
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j267
j267
4,522 Followers

I pulled my beat up nine-year-old Ford Explorer into a spot by the river, that was shielded from the county road by a thick stand of trees, and as quickly as the ignition was off, my girlfriend Lauren and I were leaning across the console connected in a passionate kiss.

"Ready?" I asked in a nervous voice.

With a nod, we opened our doors, stepped into the cold winter air and quickly climbed into the back where I instantly pulled her to me so that once again we were kissing. Like many generations that had come before us, we were "parking", which was a country term for making out in some isolated spot, usually in the backseat of a car.

Lauren and I were both seniors in high school and would be graduating in just a few months. We had been dating seriously for a couple years, but had been quite close for much longer. You see, we grew up across the street from each other and had been classmates going back to kindergarten. Throughout that time, we had stayed quite close to the point that our parents treated the other like one of their own. When our relationship turned serious during our junior year, it was enthusiastically received from our families with lots of hope for the future.

Our sexual chemistry was awkward at first since we had been friends for so long, but even though we had moved past that phase, we were both still virgins. Lauren loved to kiss, as did I, which always got us worked up, and after a few months I was routinely fondling and kissing her breasts. Although this always made her very excited, it was another six months before she let me into her panties. We advanced from fingering to oral sex, and I was pleased with how responsive she was when I focused my attention on her very sensitive clit. For her part, she had become quite good at teasing and sucking me, enjoying the power she held as I writhed. Together, we had learned how to bring each other to climax, usually in the back seat of my SUV, but had not yet taken the final step.

Tonight, though was going to be different. It was my eighteenth birthday and Lauren had been giving little hints for weeks to expect something special. I was pretty sure it meant that she was ready for us to truly make love for the first time, so after dinner, when she suggested we find a quiet place, I made a beeline to our favorite spot by the river.

Lauren pulled my hand to one of her firm breasts while we continued to kiss, and feeling her small nipple at attention made my dick painfully hard. When the kiss broke, there was a flurry of movement as we helped each other shed our clothes, then I pushed her back and felt her warm naked body pressed against mine.

While we embraced, and prepared for the special moment, I thought about how lucky I was to have her as my girlfriend. I knew very few were fortunate to have the kind of relationship we did, and the fact that I was mesmerized by her looks made it all seem perfect. Lauren was a true beauty, a cheerleader, and a very popular person in a positive way by being friendly and respectful to everyone. She was 5'7" tall and a slender 122 pounds with lustrous black hair, deep brown eyes and juicy lips. I was considered very lucky to have landed her to the point that I was the envy of most of the young males in our community, and had to deal with their continual efforts to steal her away.

"Greg, are we ready?" she asked, looking me directly in the eye.

"Yes," I answered simply, knowing what she meant and wanting badly to make our relationship complete.

"Okay...I love you," she replied nervously.

"Lauren, I don't know what's higher than love but that's where I am," I said to her, which made her take a deep breath.

"I'm ready," she said, opening her legs wider.

While we had been in this position often before, with her letting my dick slide over her vulva, this time I would be penetrating that magical place. Unfortunately, my excitement was so high I began to shake and my efforts to make a connection failed several times as my head glanced off her very wet, but tight opening. Finally, I felt her fingers gently take hold and guide my dick to her entrance where she worked the head in slowly.

"Easy," she whispered, and with a flex of her hips and downward pressure from mine, I felt my shaft sliding into an indescribable place of warmth and softness.

"Uggghhhh..." I gasped, unable to contain myself, while she threw her arms around my neck and squeezed hard.

"Greg, easy..." she whined, as our pelvis' moved to connect.

When I was all the way in, I stopped and looked down at her wanting to savor the moment.

"Are you okay?" I asked in a ragged voice, struggling to catch my breath due to the excitement and seeing a similar look on her face.

"Yes...I love you," she answered in a husky, sexy voice with her eyes partly closed, and that look alone almost made me ejaculate.

Rather than answer, I leaned down and kissed, and then started to move very slowly. I knew from listening to the more experienced boys in school that I wouldn't last long and I didn't, as the feeling was just too amazing. However, I stayed in until the last moment, then with an anguished cry I pulled out and sprayed my semen all over Lauren's amazing body.

When my dick finally stopped releasing its juice, I fell on top of her and for a long time we hugged, kissed and occasionally wept as we proclaimed our love for each other. In the back of my mind, I was worried about her psyche and how she would deal with the emotions of her first experience. Luckily, my concerns proved to be overblown when she let me know she was ready for more.

"Can we do it again?" she asked, somewhat sheepishly, which made her even more desirable to me.

This time, we sat upright with her straddling me and took our time, breaking often to kiss and talk. It also gave me the opportunity to suck and nibble on her nipples, and I was delighted to learn that it had the effect of making her pussy spasm. Lauren breasts are nicely proportioned C-cups, barely C-cups as she would describe, with small areolas and nipples that I loved to play with while witnessing her response. However, it's her perfect long legs and tight butt that I love the most and which held the top spot in my fantasies. Of course, I eventually climaxed again, but unfortunately, she didn't, and in fact it took several more encounters over the next several weeks before she finally became comfortable enough to let go.

That was twelve years ago, and since then the time has seemed to fly by. First came college, and although there were a few rocky moments as our new freedom being away from home challenged our relationship, we made it through. We were married a month after graduation to the delight of our families who immediately brought up the subject of grandkids. We made it three years while we started our careers before Cary was born and two years later we were blessed with Josh. So, now we had the perfect new millennium family, with parents that lived an hour away in the country, and were always eager to help with the kids while we established our lives in the city.

Lauren kept her great body and looks, managing to stay within three pounds of her high school cheerleader weight, and despite nursing two babies, her breasts were still quite firm. I put it down to good genes and a healthy lifestyle which included routine workouts that we sometimes did together. This had kept me in decent shape as well, although nowhere near as good as her.

Sexually, our four to five times a week of intense lovemaking had turned into one to two times due to the demands of our jobs and kids, and although it was still satisfying, her passionate wails of pleasure had slowly become satisfied sighs. Of course, people talk and I did learn that we were in a better place than most married couples with kids.

And then there was the other issue -- a very bizarre one. For maybe a year or so, I had become interested in how men looked at Lauren and interacted with her. At first, it was just a mild curiosity about what a man might be saying to her at a function or party, but it continued to develop until I sometimes found myself fantasizing about the man on top of her instead of me when we were making love. What was both strange and troubling to me was that it all seemed to have come out of the blue, as I had never in the past had any thoughts along these lines.

I realized I needed help and after an exhaustive search for the right person, that I kept hidden from my wife, I ended up with a counselor named Dr. Elizabeth Sturm who was a mid-50s woman that specialized in sexual issues. I had weighed going to a male versus a female counselor, but in the end, I just felt it would be more awkward explaining my situation to another man. Plus, a woman would provide the benefit of seeing things in a different way. It took several sessions before I felt comfortable even hinting at my issue and a few more before it started to come out. Fortunately, no doubt helped by the $175/ hr. fee, she stayed patient and nonjudgmental.

"Greg, how are you today. Would you like some water?" Dr. Sturm asked as I took a seat at the end of her couch while declining her offer, and when I was settled, she jumped immediately into the session, "When we left last time, you were going to broach the subject with Lauren and gauge her reaction."

"Yes, that's true," I replied, instantly fidgeting.

"And?" she queried.

"And, I chickened out," I answered, looking at the floor.

"I see. Well, we talked about that too. And, we talked about the length of your relationship and the trust that's there. What made you change your mind?" she continued.

"I guess.... well.... I guess I can't bear the thought of her not respecting me," I explained, as she stared directly at me.

"Let's go back a bit then. You know we've discussed at length your thoughts and fantasies. And, we've discussed that you're certainly not unique with them. Many, many men have the same thoughts. There is quite a bit of literature on the subject and I see men very similar to you," she said, describing aspects of what we had gone through since the beginning of the sessions.

"I know but...." I began, then stopped and an awkward silence filled the room.

"From what you've told me about Lauren, I doubt she will react badly, and you know that it's the only way for you to feel relieved from the burden you've put on yourself," she said, finally breaking the silence.

"I know," I replied, with no real conviction.

Dr. Sturm let several moments go by before she spoke. "Well let's park that for later. Tell me what else has been going on. Anymore thoughts?" she asked.

"Yes, actually," I said.

It had taken a long time, but answering the question no longer terrified me.

"Tell me about them," she replied.

"A man that Lauren works with. Older, maybe forty," I answered.

"And is it the same thoughts?" she asked.

"Similar I guess, but the man is black," I told her.

"And is she enjoying the sex with him like she does with the other men?" she followed.

"Yes," I replied quickly.

She continued to explore the new fantasy before returning to the need for me to have a conversation with my wife and basically spill my guts, and after acknowledging once again that it was the best path forward, I left.

Several weeks later, I was back in the same spot on the couch with Dr. Sturm across from me with her notebook in her lap, and the look she gave me told me she knew the answer before it was asked.

"So, Greg. Did you discuss things with Lauren?" she asked, after a few opening pleasantries.

"No Dr. Sturm and I don't think I can. Every time I try to start, my head starts spinning," I explained.

"I see. Well, what do you think is the next step then?" she asked.

From our previous sessions, I knew her style and had anticipated this question.

"I was thinking it might be best if you tell her," I blurted out.

For the next forty-five minutes, we discussed her doing so with the Doctor not saying no, but strongly suggesting otherwise. When the session was over, I left with an agreement that I would try once more and if unsuccessful we would discuss it again. Since I had made a sincere pledge, I did in fact try, but I just couldn't make it happen. At the next session with Dr. Sturm, I described my attempts, and surprisingly, with little reluctance she agreed to meet with my wife. We decided we would try for late on a Friday, two weeks out, and I would take the kids to their grandparents that day so Lauren and I would have the weekend alone. Of course, my anxiety built as the date approached, and it wasn't until the Thursday before that I brought up the subject and asked if she could meet with Dr. Sturm the next afternoon.

"Greg, what's going on? Are you alright?" she asked, looking very concerned.

"I'm okay. I've been seeing Dr. Sturm for a while and we just think it's time for her to talk to you," I said, following my practiced script.

"Greg, tell me what's going on," she implored.

"Please just meet with her and we can talk about it after," I begged.

Friday at midday, I gathered Cary and Josh from their nanny and headed out of the city. On the return drive, after visiting with both sets of grandparents, I started watching the clock, and halfway home I knew that Lauren was now seated in front of the doctor, learning of my issues that now felt like deep perversions.

I returned with about twenty minutes to spare, if they had taken the full hour, and immediately started preparing the dinner I wanted to have ready to try and get in my wife's good graces. In fact, it was almost an hour later when I heard the door opening and the sound of Lauren's heels on the wood floors. She walked into the kitchen where I was cooking, and took the glass of wine I offered after a quick kiss acting totally normal.

"Did you meet with..." I started to ask.

"Later Greg. After dinner, please," she cut me off, and then left to change with the wine glass in her hand.

We had a nice dinner and, although we chatted on the standard subjects, the avoidance of the issue was like a monstrous elephant in the room. I made sure that her wine glass never reached the bottom, so by the time we were done, I could tell she was relaxed.

"Okay, let's talk," she said, leading me to the den after I had cleared the table.

"Okay," I answered meekly.

"Greg, remember when we were in fourth grade and you broke my bicycle and tried to hide it? Remember, I told you then I didn't care about the bike, but I didn't like the hiding? You crossed your heart and promised never to do it again," she reminded me when we were seated.

Of course, I did remember, and the fact that she was going to a childhood promise given our history instantly made me feel like pond scum.

"I remember," I replied, in a whisper.

"You broke your promise," she stated.

"I...I..." I tried to reply, but quit and just looked at my feet.

"Do you know how it feels, how embarrassing it is to hear about your husband's fantasies from a stranger?" she fired the next shot, finding even a lower point to take me.

"Lauren, I'm sorry," I answered, with the only words I could think of to say.

"Greg, I'm going to ask you something and be honest. This is so unlike you. Are you having an affair?" she asked.

"No! Honey...Lauren No! Absolutely not," I instantly replied.

"Dr. Sturm didn't think you were, but I told her I was going to ask," she followed.

"What did she tell you," I asked, realizing I was at a disadvantage on information.

"Some very good things and some surprising things," she replied, pausing for effect before continuing, "She said you loved me very much. Much more than she had seen in any other relationship. She said you came to her because you were distressed about thoughts and feelings you were having. Then, she explained what those feelings were and why you were having them."

"Did it make sense?" I asked, hoping her understanding would lead to acceptance.

"I understood what she was saying, although I didn't like the message. I didn't like the idea that men find monogamous women less interesting because no sperm competition is involved. But, she said it's in your DNA, and that as a female I would struggle to understand, and that most men like yourself don't understand either. Plus, she said it's very common," Lauren explained, and the almost clinical way she was talking made me hope that I might get off lightly.

"Good, well I'm not sure I would have ever been able to explain it the way..." I started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Greg, don't even try," she stated, giving me a determined glare.

"Okay, I'm sorry," I said again, then once more returned to my shell.

"Get me some more wine," she demanded, and I immediately jumped to my feet and went for the bottle.

"How did it end? You were there a long time," I asked.

"We discussed what to do with you," she said, then took a sip.

"And?" I asked, impatiently.

"It took her a long time and she tried to be professional, but finally it got woman to woman," she explained.

"And?" I asked again, now sitting at the edge of the couch.

"Basically, she said if I give you a little of what you are looking for, I can get anything I want," she answered, and a smile started to cross her face that she tried to fight back.

"That's not professional. That's conspiratorial," I said, with mild surprise.

"Are you kidding? It serves you right. You should have come to me, your wife, your childhood girlfriend from the start. I think I have been very fair!" she answered, with her voice rising.

"I'm sorry," I said, cowed once more.

"Who are the men? That's one thing she wouldn't tell me," my wife asked.

I started to try and be coy, but after stumbling a bit became forthright, "Chris, Zach and Thomas, your coworker."

Chris was the husband of one of her good friends who we often did things with socially, Zach was the mechanic who looked after our cars, he was younger, around twenty-four, and of Mediterranean descent and Thomas was the older black guy that I had described most recently to Dr. Sturm. There were others, but they were minor players, and Lauren accepted the information with no visible response.

For the rest of the evening we sipped wine and chatted with the conversation thankfully moving on to other topics. It appeared that her disappointment in me had faded, but later in bed when I reached for her, I was told sternly that I was still in the doghouse.

The next day, we had breakfast together then Lauren left to run errands and do some shopping. She was gone most of the day, and the fall shadows were getting long when I heard her come in. Jumping up in case she was carrying things, I met her in the foyer and the first thing I noticed was her blouse was unbuttoned so that the swell of her breasts and part of her bra were visible.

"Honey, why is your top like that?" I asked.

"Oh," she exclaimed, dropping her bags and quickly buttoning up.

"Lauren?" I started, but she picked up the bags and went by me without speaking.

I followed her around like a puppy while she put away her purchases, and every question I asked was deftly ignored. Finally, when she was done, I cornered her in the kitchen.

"Where all did you go?" I asked.

"To the mall to shop, then to the grocery for some things and after that I went by to have Zach look at my car. It was making a noise," she answered.

Now I knew her game. She was toying with me to get a reaction. I knew she didn't see Zach and that she likely unbuttoned her blouse right before she walked in, but the idea that she might have; the tiny probability that she had been naughty with Zach made my dick instantly hard and threw my desire into high gear.

I took her hand and guided her to the bedroom, and this time there was no resistance as she let me hold, kiss and fondle her body while I worked to get her naked. My clothes quickly followed, then I was all over her, licking her body from her neck to her knees before returning first to her nipples and then to her slit, which I was happy to find was well lubricated. I reached for a condom inside the nightstand and fought with shaking hands to put it on while Lauren played with my nipples. Rolling on top of her, I was able to easily find my way inside and we groaned in unison with the penetration.

j267
j267
4,522 Followers