Just a little fun story.
*****
My life turned to shit the day Claire came to stay with us.
Okay, okay, maybe she had it rough. Only married two years and her husband ran off with another woman. Hey, get over it, shit happens. When she first arrived, Josie and I were both sympathetic but after awhile her constant droning on the faults of the male species became more than irksome, at least, to me.
"Men don't know how to make love to a woman..."
"Men only think with their dicks..."
"Men only need a hole to stick their cocks into..."
Well, maybe there was a little truth to that. I had to admit when Josie and I got married five years ago, we didn't stray too far from our bedroom. But I didn't marry her just to have a steady piece of ass... Nah, no way. As a matter of fact, we'd slowed down to only three times a week now, often for only a half hour at a time.
At 28, Josie works as a therapist for a marriage counselor. She's good at her job of marriage mending. Sometimes in bed, she tells me one of her stories (no names of course), after which we'll role play the couple and fantasize a happy ending. It's really hot.
Josie isn't one of those tall statuesque model types. Quite the opposite, she's short and stocky. But men do notice her, the way she wobbles her ass and sways those firm torpedo tits. Her slim waist accentuates her oblong breasts and ample ass. Yes, I love having those powerful legs wound around my butt while I'm sliding in her tight hole... No kids yet, but we're thinking about it.
And Claire? She's a younger clone of her sister. And yes, they both come by it honestly. At 46, their mother Carol has the same great shape. In fact I have to be careful I don't sneak up behind the wrong woman when we're visiting. I did that once, rubbing my hardon in the crack of Carol's ass. My face is still stinging.
Anyhow... I digress. Where was I? ... Oh, yeah, this is about Claire. She followed Josie everywhere, whimpering and blubbering about her failed marriage. Even when Josie was doing the vacumning, Claire never stopped, just prattled louder. They stayed up late, yakking, drinking wine or whatever else was available.
Meals were particularly difficult. Claire never stopped whining. Worse, Josie nodded at some of Claire's assessment of men. She'd give me that 'just like you' look. Since there were two against one, I made myself scarce, mostly hiding in the study.
And then it got worse. Josie's older sister, Anne, began coming over after work and staying for dinner to lend support to Claire's rant. She had the same low opinion of men as her sister, calling all men 'cunthounds', who couldn't wait to stick their thingy into a strange pussy. She'd stay until after dinner, then go home to put her two toddlers to bed... Now there was three against one.
During the two weeks since Claire arrived, sex with Josie was at ground zero. I have to tell you, abstinence doesn't work for me. I was walking around with a permanent semi hardon. Whenever we did manage to get to bed at the same time, she would push me away if I made a move on her. Finally one night I grabbed a handful of ass.
"No, John, we can't. Claire's in the next room... she'll hear us," she whispered.
"So what?"
"It'll make her feel worse."
"I feel a lot worse than she does," I rebutted.
"Tell you what honey. If you can be real quiet, I'll suck your dick," she promised.
Could I refuse? Not likely. But getting a blow job was only a consolation prize compared to sliding in and out of her tight pussy.
"Swallow it all?" I whispered hopefully.
"Mmmm...Hmmmm..." she agreed as her cheeks hollowed.
I lasted all of thirty seconds before my cum bathed her tonsils. Nobody could give a blow job like my Josie.
"There, that'll hold you for awhile," she giggled.
I spooned her and we fell asleep. As usual, she wore her flannel pajamas so I wouldn't attempt to poke her during her slumber.
--
Three days later, we again got to bed at the same time. I pulled her into me and ran my hand down the inside of her PJs, down the crack of her ass, running a finger around into her tight pussy hole. She pushed me away.
"No, John, we can't," she whispered, "Claire heard us the other night and she feels really bad."
"Why would SHE feel bad?" I quieried.
"It reminds her of the relationship she had with her husband... Bear with me, honey, she's starting to respond to my therapy."
"I'm going to need therapy real soon too. Why don't we grab a blanket and have a bit of nookie in the back yard?" I suggested.
"No way. We did that a few years ago when your mom and dad were visiting. The neighbors are still talking about it," she reminded me.
"Are we going to have to rent a motel room?" I asked in desperation.
"No, silly. Tomorrow's Saturday. It's supposed to be a nice day so I'll send her out to cut some flowers in the back yard. You can lean me over the kitchen table while we watch for her through the window."
Well, the best made plans never work. It rained all damned weekend, the next weekend too... However, it did seem that Josie had calmed Claire down considerably. Our mealtimes became more pleasant and there was less ratcheting about the evils of men. Two weeks after my blow job, I figured it was safe to broach the subject.
"Claire, how would you feel if Josie and I had sex tonight?"
Her face turned purple and she started to choke. "That's all you men ever think about, isn't it? ... Just fuck, fuck, FUCK..."
"Claire, we love each other and haven't been together for a month," I reminded her, trying to remain calm.
"Go ahead, you bastard," she screamed, "Stick your soft little weeny into my poor sister."
Huh? ... Soft? Little? Was she talking about me? Is that what Josie told her? Claire ran bawling to the bathroom and locked herself in.
"See what you've done," Josie railed, "she was coming along nicely until you opened your big mouth."
"You're taking her side again, Josie," I raked, "The only therapy that bitch needs is a big hard cock to fuck her brains out."
"How can you be such an insensitive asshole?" Josie seethed.
"Insensitive? Me, insensitive? Me, the husband who hasn't had a piece of ass for a month?"
"I'm beginning to think Claire's right," Josie yelled, "Men like you think a fuck is the only thing a woman is good for."
"You got that right... men like me," I growled as I reached for my bomber jacket.
