That Old Comeback

(Or How Ayesha Rediscovered Her Groove)

The warm morning light drifted through the partially drawn curtains, falling across the exposed thigh of Ayesha Khan as she lay in bed. As was typical she had woken before the alarm set by her dear husband, Yusuf Khan; this was the time she hated most of all, for in the early morning silence there was nothing to come between Ayesha and her thoughts.

How did she get here again?

She had never wanted to marry, and yet here she was. Forty-four years old. Married. Two kids and a devoted husband. Devoted to his work, at least. He definitely cared more for the vaginas of his patients than he did the vagina belonging to his wife.

Proof of that was announced by the sound of the alarm, loud enough to stir Yusuf to wake; for her husband was a heavy sleeper. Looking at her over his shoulder (he always seemed to roll away from her in his sleep), Yusuf smiled. "Morning, dear," he said. His voice was a distinctly higher pitch than hers, something that bothered Ayesha for reasons she could never pin down.

"Good morning," she said, faking a smile for his benefit.

With lumbering grace Yusuf rolled over onto her, and there was a brief moment when Ayesha felt the full weight of her husband - still growing with the years - press down on her, before Yusuf placed his hands beside her shoulders to support himself.

"You're very beautiful this morning," Yusuf said. Then he kissed her.

Kissing her husband should be a pleasurable experience, but with Yusuf it felt like two slugs pressing against her mouth. Attempting to kiss him back was futile; Yusuf just never seemed to react to stimuli. So she lay there and waited while he pressed his fat lips to hers, as he shifted his bulk to give his small dick access.

A lack of lubrication didn't seem to bother him, and Yusuf didn't last long enough for Ayesha to be discomforted. After a few minutes of grunting and slow thrusting Yusuf made an odd sound - Ayesha had long associated it with a farting pig - which announced to her that he had cum.

Ayesha didn't feel it. She never did.

Another kiss. "Have a good day, dear," Yusuf said, before rolling off and rising unsteadily to his feet. His small dick was already softening, retreating into itself above his tiny balls. Without any further interaction with his wife of some twenty-odd years, Yusuf Khan trundled into the ensuite bathroom to freshen up for another day at his gynecological practice.

Another whole day of giving other women more vaginal attention than he had just given to his own wife. Every morning before work, Yusuf fucked her for a few minutes. A relic, Ayesha once believed, of their attempts to conceive a third child, and he continued despite not having planted a baby in the belly of his wife for nineteen years. Ayesha had never bothered to go back on birth control: her husband's cum had obviously run out of what meager fertility had somehow created her kids.

Laying there, Ayesha listened to the sounds of her husband pottering around, helping himself to some breakfast downstairs - the only meal he ever made for himself.

By that point it had been a half hour since her husband had woke her with his normal morning demand of sex. As she lay there listening to her husband downstairs, Ayesha slowly moved her hand down her tight, flat stomach. A slight definition of some abs beginning to show through with all her hard work at the gym lately.

Any moment now...

No sooner had the front door slammed close, announcing Yusuf's departure from the house, did Ayesha's hand reach her vagina. With her husband gone Ayesha felt no shame in finishing what he hadn't even come close to starting with his clumsy efforts at sex.

Now, with her darling husband of some twenty years gone, Ayesha felt safe to explore herself. To revisit some memories of a time that felt so deep in the past that it almost felt like it happened to someone else.

But then it had been a different time, and a very different Ayesha than the loving mother of two incredible children, and wife to a successful husband, who now lay on the bed she shared with him; her hand slowly, tentatively, exploring her vagina.

It was time to think about some old flames. When she had been young, and full of adventure in love and sex - and holy shit! She had SO much sex! It was a secret part of her she had never told her husband in all their years of marriage.

As her fingers began their work she first thought of Gavin; a hot nineteen-year-old with a toned body, great abs, and a thick seven inch cock that had pleasured her for hours on the old sofa of her parent's last house. With her parents out for the evening - a rare occurrence for young, sexy nineteen-year-old Ayesha - she had carpe diem-ed and invited her then boyfriend around. Up to that point they had done only blowjobs round the back of the shops in their little London borough, but that night had given them a perfect opportunity to get more intimately acquainted.

And they did. Several times. Having seen how he had stayed hard each time she blew him off Ayesha knew Gavin had great stamina, but her then boyfriend truly displayed fantastic sexual endurance that evening; fucking her for four hours before they had to clean themselves (and the room! God, they had made a mess!) before her parents got back from visiting friends.

Fingers explored her pussy; by now well and truly coated with fluids. Her husband never made her wet; he had never been her type, and age had only brought him further away from what she enjoyed in her partners.

Gavin had ticked all the boxes: an east London boy, they had met at a nightclub a month earlier, bonded over drinks, and she had gone down on him in the taxi home. It had been her first taste of a guy's hot cum, and what a first experience! Gavin could cum a lot, and she had almost choked on his big loads in the back of that taxi. As she remembered the feeling of his cum flowing down her throat with each loud, voluminous swallow, Ayesha began to work herself; fingers dipping in, while her thumb played with her clit. The moment she had felt him ejaculate into her mouth Ayesha knew she had to get this guy inside her.

There had been only one problem: her parents.

Born to Pakistani immigrants, Ayesha had always felt torn between her conservative parents, who were quite vocal in wanting a good daughter who saved herself for marriage, and the more sexual carefree lives her friends were living. When she met Gavin she had been the only virgin amongst her friendship group, something that embarrassed her immensely; while the mockery from her friends had been good-natured, they had taken the piss out of her for being the only one of them who hadn't had sex yet.

Ayesha had been eager to change that, and when her parents had told her they would be out for the evening to visit friends she had known exactly what she needed to do. In hindsight, it had been the best decision of her life.

Gavin had been experienced - somewhat - but he more than made up for that with enthusiasm and some God-given raw physical endurance. The first round had seen them defile the sofa with their frantic thrusting; both eager to feel the other cum, and it was the previous hours of hot anticipation - having spent the day eager for what was going to unfold that evening - that saw Ayesha experience the first orgasm of her life that she hadn't given herself.

Her fingers were working faster now. God, how she could still remember the feeling of cuming as Gavin had ploughed her ass into that garish sofa of her parent's. His muscular body holding himself above her as his hips worked faster and faster, for reasons that became obvious a few minutes later when he came himself. Pushing her hand deeper into her pussy, Ayesha recalled feeling all that cum being emptied into her. They hadn't used protection. Gavin came so much; she wanted to feel his cum inside her, and Gavin was more than happy to fuck bareback.

Feeling his huge loads inside her had made her cum again - two orgasms in a row! Could one ask for a better way to lose their virginity? Remembering the feeling of his big dick plastering her insides with his hot sperm, Ayesha felt an orgasm brew within her, here in the present.

What had followed had been three hours of intense sex, as they had moved from the sofa to the floor, to the walls, to the table, and finally she had taken him upstairs to the bedroom she had shared with her sister. They had fucked on her bed, as well as her sister's bed, and he had filled her with his cum both times.

Faster, harder, just like she had taken his big cock twenty-five years ago. Her body arched as her fingers worked herself just the way she had learnt she liked - the way she needed to get off. As these long years of marriage had taught her.

Confident that she was alone in the house - Syeda was staying over her boyfriend's, and Ali was still out with his friends, Brad and Kyle - Ayesha allowed herself to be vocal as she came. "Oh... oh my god!" she gasped, her spine curving as the pleasure infected every part of her body, as her toes curled, twisting the sheets between them, and her free hand gripped her tit as she relished an orgasm better than anything her husband had ever given her in twenty years.

Coming down from her orgasmic high, Ayesha found herself wanting more; she normally did. In her youth she was insatiable, and after Gavin had been Darryl, another east London boy with an even bigger dick; fortunate, as after several months draining Gavin's balls as often they could Ayesha's sexual appetites had grown dramatically. Having dumped Gavin only a day previously, she met Darryl at an expensive nightclub in Soho. They turned up the heat on the dance floor before taking a cab back to his place for an incredible night of sex.

As her fingers resumed their work, honed by years of regular masturbation after disappointing sex with her husband, Ayesha recalled the way Darryl had thrown her from position to position. Giving her his eight-inch dick in ways Gavin never had, and with more power and skill than her previous boyfriend had possessed. He had drilled her again and again with his thicker, powerful cock, filling her with more cum than Gavin ever had.

It had barely been five minutes since her orgasm, but Ayesha could already feel another one building within her as her hand worked her pussy with more skill than her husband had given her in all their years of marriage. She no longer felt anything about how her best sexual experiences were self-inflicted, rather than with the man of her life. That shame, that disappointment, had all died years ago.

This was her life now. Jerking off on the bed she shared with her husband after he left for work in the mornings. Jerking off as she remembered the sex she had when she had been unmarried and young.

And what sex! Her movements were frantic, her hips rising to meet her hand, eager for more of the pleasures she was giving herself as she recalled how Darryl and she had fucked for hour after hour at his place that first night. How she had taken his cock in her mouth and swallowed load after huge, thick load of his cum until her stomach sloshed with his seed. He had fucked her in the ass and pumped huge wads of his spunk into her - something that Gavin hadn't done! Ayesha had oozed globs of his hot gunk from her ass and pussy for hours afterwards - he had cum so much into her!

She couldn't even feel the meagre deposit of cum her husband had left inside after just five minutes of grunting, during which his chubby face grew an alarming shade of red. Ayesha only knew he had cum inside her when his eyes closed and he made the sound she had come to associate with his orgasm; a fluttering whimper - that pig fart - and a satisfied sigh, as if he had accomplished something.

Compared to Gavin and Darryl? Her husband, dear Yusuf, had accomplished fuck all.

Which, after years of marriage, seemed to be all he knew about fucking.

How did she get here? Masturbating on her bed, reminiscing about old loves because her dear husband couldn't blast them from her memory with incredible sex? Or even great sex? Average sex? Just... something? How did she marry someone who treated their lovemaking like he had with her in everything else? Just there for his own pleasure. His own amusement. Never in their marriage had he ever asked her if she had enjoyed their sex. Nevermind if she had climaxed.

She was just there. Like the bed they fucked on. Like the house he had bought for them, with all of its five bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a kitchen that was as large as the house she had grown up in.

How did she get here?

It all started, appropriately enough considering, with Dick. A certain Richard Singh, or Rick, as he preferred to be called for obvious reasons. After a succession of street boys - Gavin, Darryl, Harvs, Murad, John, Chang, and Zane - Rick was a complete one-eighty for her: a respectable young man fresh from private education. They had met at a party of a mutual acquaintance, and hit it off despite their vastly different backgrounds. Despite being almost twenty-three Ayesha was still living with her parents, though Rick, thankfully, had his own place, and they had gone back that evening to his small London flat.

Where Ayesha had the best sex of her life.

Fingers worked faster and faster, and her orgasm built as she recalled that first night with Rick in his flat. How confident he had been as he took control and gave her his dick, a cock that was even bigger than Darryl's had been - and he had been the largest she had taken up to that point! By half an inch or more, sure, but Rick was also much thicker than her previous boyfriends had been; he filled her more than any other lover had, and when he came he literally filled her more than any other lover had.

Faster. Harder. God, she was so close! Again!

In her mind she was back there again; being slammed into the sofa by Rick's big dick until she came. Riding his massive dick as he gripped and squeezed her tits. Being held against the wall as he pounded her harder than any lover previously. The walls, the floor, the table; he even held her against his bookshelves and repeatedly slammed his cock into her. Books were jostled from their resting places by the force of their fucking, falling to their feet as her toes curled with the great pleasures he was giving her.

For the second time that morning Ayesha contorted herself on the bed as she came. Her hand stayed inside her as her legs stretched out, her back arched, and she gripped the sheets with a hand not currently doing what her husband should have done earlier.

"Oh... fuck..." Ayesha gasped as she blinked, coming down from her orgasmic high. Sighing, she flopped both hands on the pillow beside her head. The fingers of her right hand slick with the fluids of her pleasure. "OK... that's enough," she said, to no one in particular.

It always had to end. Her daily ventures into a past she sorely missed had to end, bringing her hurtling back into the dull, depressing present. Where she was the loving wife of a man who not just took her for granted, but almost regarded her with the same energy as the shirts he wore as he drove to work each day.

How did she get here? Her parents. Rick had been the last straw for them. The nobodies they could look past - the ruffians she picked up at bars and nightclubs - but someone like Rick? He had connections - they knew his parents - and too much presence within their social circle. Too many people knew of him, and if it was known that he was having regular extramarital sex with their youngest daughter? Ayesha's sister, Fatima, had been a model daughter, who had married at nineteen and given her parents two grandchildren by the time she was twenty-four. In contrast Ayesha was near twenty-three, with no husband, no children, and a promiscuous lifestyle.

They had had enough. Enter two friends of the family and their only son: Yusuf. An agreement was made, and Ayesha found herself ushered into a marriage that she had no say over. Her life irrevocably changed within the span of a week: from engagement to wedding. Before she knew it she was married, with her own house - courtesy of Yusuf's wealthy parents - in the heart of the fourth largest city in the UK: Coytoss, in the county of Eroshire.

(What the fuck was a Coy, and why the hell would anyone toss one?)

It was probably because it was on the other side of the country to London that her parents had chosen Coytoss; they had successfully torn her away not only from any temptations through past lovers, but temptations via her friendship circle, as well.

Alone, and married to a man who very quickly made his demands known when he talked of all the children they would soon have, Ayesha quickly fell into depression. Once a lithe, fit woman in the prime of her life, by the time Ali, her youngest, came along Ayesha had put on several pounds, and it was not just pregnancy weight. Raising a child by herself in a strange city with no one but Yusuf's old friends for company, Ayesha no longer recognised the woman in the mirror.

She paused in front of the wardrobe doors. Covered entirely in polished mirrors, they occupied one whole wall of their huge bedroom. They would offer an incredible view of a husband and wife having great sex, if she had great sex anymore.

Seeing the woman staring back at her, Ayesha smiled to herself. It had taken some work, but she had turned her life around in the last year. It had been her children, Syeda and Ali, who had inadvertently inspired her to re-shape her life, after over fifteen years of allowing herself to grow fat with depression.

Already an active young man, Ali had one day dragged his mother into the biggest gym in the city, CoyFit, hoping that Ayesha would buy him one of the expensive membership packages. He had grown into a promiscuous young man, a fact unknown to his somewhat conservative father (yet known to his secretly envious mother), and Ali wanted to get himself into even better shape for his conquests. His school friends, Brad and Kyle, already had memberships at the gym, and Ali wanted to join them.

Not only did she buy membership for Ali (and later Syeda), but also herself. It had nothing to do with meeting her son's eighteen-year-old friends for the first time that day. Oh, they had definitely brought her back to those young days chasing street studs, but Ayesha was a grown woman now. Those days were long ago...

Still. It wouldn't hurt to get back into shape. If only for her own self-esteem.

After all: it was Yusuf's money she was spending.

Going to the gym soon became a day out with her children. Ali was the most encouraging, and it was his constant, cheerful banter that drove Ayesha forward as she struggled to keep up with her much fitter and healthier son. Eventually, though, Ayesha found her breathing easier, and the weight began to shed, until a year later she was the same shape she had been at Ali's age.

It had been her healthier figure that caught their eyes, and if her children had encouraged her to get back into shape after so many years letting herself go, then realising that not only did her son's fit as fuck friends both fancy her, but her daughter's hot new boyfriend might also have his eyes on her made Ayesha feel like a young woman again.

Ali's friends, Kyle Matthews and Bradley Newell, had all, like Ali, found places at the University of Eroshire, an hour or so down the road. As for Syeda's new beau: Theodore Miller had a well-paid job at Hills & Follet, the largest law firm in the city. He was also six feet five inches and handsome as hell. While her daughter was certainly beautiful, Ayesha had no idea how she had managed to pull a guy like Theo. Yet in only a few days Syeda would be moving into Theo's flat permanently - she certainly spent enough time round there as it was!