Rediscovering Joan Ch. 02

Hi, Mike Paterson here. Before you read this you might want to read chapter 1 so I don't to have to re-introduce myself and my lovely wife Joan. Not that I mind doing that; I'm very proud of my gorgeous 41 year old wife. So much so I feel in her shadow when we are out together; very much the kind of feelings I get when I hear Eric Clapton's 'Wonderful Tonight".

But our journey really started when Joan cheated. That set off an incredible whirl of contradictory feelings in me, but as I explained in chapter 1 our talking about it also resulted in an amazing sexual experience - I'd even call it an epiphany.

Anyway you'd think after what happened we'd be fucking like rabbits for days, but that's not what happened.

I spend the rest of Saturday on our boat doing some maintenance because we'd promised some friends a harbor cruise the next day. Then Saturday night we went to a formal dinner in Huntington Beach for which Joan outdid herself; looking fantastic in her little black dress -- which wasn't so little really as it had to hold up her magnificent breasts. She was loving and attentive all evening, hanging on my shoulder and enjoying the attention her loveliness attracted, but we got home too late to do anything more than curl up and crash.

Sunday out on the water and at dinner afterward, she was positively radiant and as happy as I'd ever seen her, but again we got home too late to take things any further.

Or maybe we didn't want to.

It's not that I wasn't horny; I only had to let my mind wander back over the events of Saturday and I was rock hard in seconds. But I'd compartmentalized my mind somehow and the different areas were at war with each other for ascendancy. Sometimes I was angry and hurt at the betrayal of our wedding vows -- which I at least had taken seriously. Sometimes blindingly jealous. What did he have that I didn't?

Some of the time I was concerned for her in a loving, protective sort of way; this wasn't easy for her and I wanted to hold her in my big arms and make it alright. But above all I was horny; a constant state of mild arousal that quickened when I let my mind dwell on what we'd shared. I had to jerk off in the shower a couple of times just to be able to dress.

By Tuesday I was keenly aware we were delaying confronting it, out of what? Fear that the feelings that had swept over us would have faded? Or of it happening again? Perhaps I was just afraid of change and wanted to shrink back into the comfortable safe place we'd been in.

By Wednesday it was just a matter of time before we had to find out or go crazy.

Thursday evening I parked the 911 in the garage, got my briefcase and walked around to the front of the house to go inside. At the front steps I heard Joan's voice call out 'Hi' and looked up to see her smiling down at me from the upstairs balcony.

She was wearing a satin robe that hugged her voluptuous body, and high heels. The robe was open enough at the front to display her cleavage, which was pushed up tantalizingly by the railing she was leaning on. She'd never looked sexier and a tingle of anticipation went through me. Damn, whatever feelings we'd let out of the box didn't look like fading any time soon.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii".

"Come up" she called. "Keep me company".

"Let me change and grab a scotch and I'll be right there".

I dumped my case, threw on some slacks and a sports shirt with a collar, and climbed up the carpeted staircase sipping a short Johnnie Walker Black on rocks. The Santa Ana winds had been blowing off the desert all week and were tugging at the drapes where the French doors opened into the lounge. Joan was framed there in the evening light, smiling beautifully.

She twirled for effect. "What do you think?"

"Mmmmmm" I said, "very nice!"

"Well it's not just for looking at" she said a trifle too gaily. "You can touch as well".

She stepped closer, reached up with her face and kissed me deeply. Her lips were soft and she tasted of fruit juice, sweet. We swayed together, lips locked and tongues swirling as Don Henley on the entertainment center sang softly 'been trying to get down, to the heart of the matter. But the flesh it gets weak...". If only he knew.

We broke for breath and she put her face in my chest and sighed. "Nice. Sooo nice". She was wearing 'Passion', my favorite. The scent was intoxicating.

I sipped my drink and put it down on the glass topped coffee table. Joan simply kicked off the heels and sprawled out on the carpet near the open French doors, arranging her robe around her.

"Here darling", she said, "come sit here and talk with me".

I sat down cross legged. The slight breeze that wafted her perfume through the room was warm and comfortable.

"Did you enjoy Saturday". She asked in a quiet voice.

"Uh yes, very much" I replied.

She studied me, trying to interpret the slight hesitation.

"What part the most?" she asked.

I felt put on the spot but knew my response was important.

"I don't think we ever fucked like that, it was so... wanton, and I loved..."

"Listening to me talk?"

I felt a firming in my pants front as delicious images flooded through me. I saw again her hands fondling my rock hard cock between her wonderful tits, her lips whispering delicious words and taking me to erotic heights I'd never experienced.

"Yes dear, I loved that very much".

She shifted her legs a little and said "I'm so glad. I was worried it would be a turnoff for you and it's so... very important to me to be able to express what I feel and... who I am".

"Who you are?" I echoed in surprise. "You're my Joan, you're my wife".

She studied a Chagall print on the wall for a few seconds then said sadly "Darling, you don't know me at all. You only know... how I've behaved".

I chuckled smugly. "Over twenty years of marriage and a year together before that? I think I know you pretty well".

She shook her head. "That wasn't me, not the real me. You just don't know".

I knew this much about her. She was on the verge of opening up and I should keep quiet. Trying to get what I wanted out of the conversation rather than letting her say what she needed to, would not only frustrate her but spoil an important time.

I asked "Well did you enjoy it? Saturday I mean?", then made a fuss of getting my drink and enjoying some of it. Then I put it back, got comfortable, and waited.

She smiled wickedly and said "Yes darling, I enjoyed it more than I can probably explain in a few words".

After a few seconds she added "How about I enjoyed it so much I've been playing with my cunt every chance I've had all week, reliving it in my head. I even got myself off today in the ladies room at work".

My cock leaped to attention inside my slacks and I looked at her incredulously. Such words. And my wife masturbating? I thought only I did that.

She caught my look and giggled. "Oh like you haven't this week? I know you. I bet you hand-fucked yourself silly!"

I flushed in childish embarrassment like a kid who'd been told he'd grow hairy hands if he did that. How did she know?

She stretched out like a lazy cat on our lounge floor, still grinning. "Sweetheart you don't know the half of it. The thing is, I once was and probably am at heart, a slut!"

The word jolted me. It was the last thing anyone would have called my fun loving, but somewhat conservative wife. She caught the flicker of disagreement behind my eyes.

"You don't like the 'S' word huh? Brings up bad connotations? Sweetheart a slut is just someone who loves sex more than anything else in life, and when she's turned on loses her inhibitions and will do whatever it takes to get it. And that, my darling love describes me, the real me, exactly".

She didn't seem in the slightest bid fazed by what she was saying. It shocked me. My head whirled more than ever, my arousal had evaporated and I felt confused and uncertain how to respond.

She broke the moment by looking across the room and asking. "Can I have a margarita please? I made a jug".

I got up and went to the bar at the other end of the lounge, and got the jug and a couple of frozen glasses from the fridge. I salted the rims and poured, then I brought the two drinks back to her and lay down again.

She sipped gratefully then said "Look, this is what I figured out this week, and what I really wanted to talk to you about".

I tried my best to keep my expression neutral.

"When I said to you I needed to become myself, I know it went right over your head. How couldn't it? You have no context for any of this. Plus ..." She grinned mischievously. "You were listening with your cock and what you were hearing was I wanted to be someone who sneaks around on her husband and fucks strange men in hotel rooms. Am I right?"

What could I do but nod?

"Then you need to hear what I'm saying to you, with all the love I know you have for me. I was someone before I met you I gave up to be with you. It's like I took off that existence like it was a cloak, and stepped straight into the existence of being your woman".

I must have let my expression slip. She put her hand on my bare arm.

"Please don't get me wrong; our life together has been wonderful in many ways. I've had the love of a good man, two terrific children. I've seen the world and had many great experiences along the way, plus all this".

She indicated around her. I knew she meant the house and our not inconsiderable material possessions.

"But darling, and you are my darling, believe it; That Joan is who I have been, not who I am".

She reached for her glass and drank most of it. I poured her some more and sipped some of mine. The mix was strong and I felt a glow as the tequila drifted down.

She was totally relaxed now and talking in a soft, husky, thoughtful voice.

"Since it's just been you and I in the house I've discovered I've never really resolved things with my real self. There are things I miss, and I think there were good things, passionate things I've suppressed. It's become overwhelming and I have to find myself or I will just... end".

My stomach sank from the horrible possibility of losing her and I must have grimaced. She saw the stricken look and reached out to hold my arm again.

"Oh baby!"

I lay there like a helpless child, realizing if she chose to get up and walk out the door I had absolutely no hold over her at all. If what we'd had was simply an act on her part and she didn't want it any more, what was left of us? Then I looked into her eyes and was consoled by the caring and compassion I saw there.

"Darling I believe if you can truly know me and accept me, I can become myself again. For that to happen I have to tell you everything and I have to know you truly do accept me".

As quickly as the horror had set in, it was replaced by a new sense of anticipation. She was talking about us going ahead as partners to a new place where we would truly know each other. Instead of responding in words I shimmied forward so our bodies touched, and pulled her face into my chest. I kissed the top of her head. Her scent filled my senses and I wanted to keep my face there.

Instead I just said "I do".

She laid back, though our hips and legs remained touching. It was a comforting feeling. She fussed with my collar for a few moments in an almost motherly way.

Then she looked at me coyly and asked "Are you sure you loved what happen on Saturday?"

My cock twitched in my pants.

"Yes".

"Was it just that we had great sex or other things?"

The pressure built as my cock pushed against the front of my pants.

"I loved you talking".

"Are you saying you loved hearing me talk about sucking and fucking other men? I need to hear you say the words".

I had a full erection now, hard enough that I had to pull my knees up a little to make room.

"Yes I loved hearing you talk about other men fucking you, and you sucking them, and all the other nasty things you said".

"And you want me to do more of it? Go on I need to hear you say it!"

"Yes, I want you to do it again, tell me every nasty thing about it. Do you believe me?"

"Yes I do believe you. Now I have a plan will you listen to it?"

I nodded.

"I need you to know me, and you like to hear about me. Lets make a pact that I will talk and tell you everything, and I'll do it so it turns us both on, and we will agree to take care of each others' needs as we go along".

"That sounds wonderful".

"Wait', she said. "I think I understand your needs. You want to watch me and touch me and fuck me, and have me touch you and suck you and make you cum".

"Yes I want us to do all those things".

For a second she looked uncertain, like she was crossing a line. Then she said "What if I need you not to be considerate, or gentle, or kind? What if I need you to sometimes treat me like a little whore, tie me up and use me as a little fuck-toy to give you pleasure without considering me at all? What if I want you to manhandle me? I don't mean hurt me, but enough to leave no doubt who's on control?"

I moved my legs uncomfortably. My cock was throbbing.

"You need that?"

"It would have to be part of the deal. Probably other things too but we could make those up as we go along".

"How can I promise that? What if you want to go down a path that's a real turnoff for me?"

She'd obviously thought it through because her response was almost eager.

"What if we have a safe word? Sayyyyy.... 'Uncle'. You can use it and I promise to immediately drop that path of exploration. We might come back to it another time if it's important, but if it breaks the mood you can say 'Uncle" at any time and it's dropped for then, ok?

She leaned out and clasped my arm again. Her eyes weren't pleading exactly, but she had the look of someone whose plan B was a very sorry second. "Do you agree?"

I was, as the old cliche goes, putty in her hands. There was no doubt about which of my tangled feelings were ascendant. I loved her more in that moment than ever. She was offering me a privileged journey into her mind, with unlimited sexual pleasure as a bonus. Anything my heart desired. Possessiveness and jealousy seemed remote, petty things. How could I say no?

"When do we start?"

"How about now? Would you like me to take care of that before we talk?"

She looked at me with a mock angelic smile. Her hands had trailed down my arm to my waist and began cupping and fondling over the tent in my pants.

I groaned. "No I'm enjoying the feeling of being turned on, the anticipation. Keep doing that and I might change my mind though".

"Oh ok", she said petulantly.

Then she brightened. "We could start at the beginning if you like. You'll have to let me let my own fingers wander if I get too horny though".

"Ok"

"Want to test the safe word?"

"Uh...."

"I had this boyfriend who had an Alsatian dog..."

"Uncle!"

"I had a pap smear today..."

"UNCLE UNCLE!"

We rocked with laughter; the perfect tension breaker at the perfect time. When it passed I poured the last of the Margaritas into our glasses and went to make some more. When I returned with fresh glasses she took a long sip and spoke in the low husky voice she liked to summon up sometimes.

"Well I was always a horny child, I started playing with myself in private by the time I was twelve or so, but believe it or not I was a virgin well into my teens".

"Oh no dating?"

She giggled. "Oh fuck yes! I didn't say I was a nun, only a virgin".

"So...."

"Oh I was a very hot date. I would jerk a guy off in a second, while they played with my tits which were big and sensitive even back then. Then later of course I was the real blowjob queen!"

"Oh?"

"Oh fuck yes, I fucking loved it. I couldn't wait to get the guy alone where I could slide down his pants, pop open my bra - I used to wear those ones with the snaps in the front, get my face down in the guy's pubes rubbing my face in it, drinking in the scent of it".

Her smile was dreamy.

"Best of all, I learned something. Boys loved to hear me talk dirty".

She giggled, like a tinkling in her throat".

"Very dirty. I learned all the words and used to practice them in front of a mirror. I had kind of like this little angelic face and the boys loved to watch those words just roll off my tongue".

She giggled again.

"Particularly if I lifted my mouth off their cocks to say them. They would sit there like puppy dogs and just drool over it"

She put her hand down between her legs and I saw her wrist moving. She was beaming in happiness until a shadow crossed her face. She held my hand really tight and gazed searchingly into my eyes, gauging the risk of going on.

"Darling I have something to... confess".

"That there were other men I never knew about?"

I'd steeled myself for that. She looked at me in surprise then her face softened.

"No actually not that, though... there were, I guess you know that".

"Many?"

"No. Just a couple more you never knew of. I'm so sorry I deceived you".

She leaned in and rested her forehead in the crook of my shoulder. I could feel her breathing. I kept still.

She lifted her head again and said "You have to understand I ... needed to know what it felt like, and I just wasn't ready to try to have that with you. I'm so sorry. Forgive me".

I held her close for a moment, letting her feel I wasn't angry, and that the unspoken forgiveness I had given her was unconditional.

After a few seconds she leaned back to look at me again and said carefully "But that wasn't what I was going to say".

I shifted my grip on her hand and waited.

"The other night, do you know who called you?"

I shook my head.

"I did. I don't really know why, it's so... conflicted in my head. I..."

She paused and sipped her drink.

"I imagined you coming to the hotel, asking around and figuring out the room. Sometimes I think I wanted you to burst in and drag me out by my hair, possessing me totally... and later punishing me. Other times... I think I just wanted you to see me as I am".

She searched my face again, which I was keeping in tight control.

"Darling I do know that the whole evening, when we were fucking, I was... posing for your entrance".

My eyes went wide and she nodded.

"I made sure if you burst in you would see me in the most... erotic position possible. When I was sucking his cock I made sure I was sideways on so you could see it sliding into my mouth. He was ... making me do things so he could watch. I made sure you would see it all if you opened the door. He made me... lie on the bed and finger fuck myself. I made sure my legs were wide open and the first thing you would see would be my fingers sliding in and out..."

I couldn't help myself. I reached down and rubbed my hand over my hard cock, savoring the feeling and seeing it in my mind. She reached down and covered my hand, moving with it.

I watched her face. I could see she had more to say. "Go on... tell me. I want to know". For a moment she was reticent. Then her face relaxed as if she'd made a difficult decision and was prepared to accept the consequences.

"Darling, when you and I have made love, do you know... you have very rarely made me cum?"

This hit me like an electric shock and for a moment my insecurity was overwhelming. I remembered times, not recent times, but back in time, when she had writhed in my embrace, moaning, usually in time with me. What was that? I looked at her in disbelief.

"No darling it's true. Oh please don't think it wasn't nice. It was... warm and loving and satisfying in an emotional way. I just... didn't cum".

"But you..."

She reached up and pressed a finger to my lips. I let her go on.

"You are so... considerate. You wait for me and that's lovely and so... you. But what I need is you to just take me... to just fuck me like an animal. It's strange I suppose, even to me, but if you would just... disregard me, just let go as if you don't give a damn about me, I would cum like crazy. But when you wait for me, wanting to be sure I'll cum first, I can't. But I love you and I want you to be happy so I... pretend. I make you think I'm cumming so you will".