There she was, this beautiful young woman, hardly half my age lying in bed next to me. Her eyes closed, I watched her chest as it rose, ever so slightly with each breath she took. Her skin was tan from the hours she spent in the tanning booth. The brown skin offset by the soft blond hair, which hung in loose curls over her shoulders and down to the top of her firm 34B size breasts. How peaceful she looked now. In stark contrast to wild child who had less than an hour ago fucked me like no woman ever had.
I wanted to wake her. I wanted to once again feel her pussy as my dick penetrated her moist folds. Nevertheless, I could not. She was too peaceful, too perfect, and too precious for words. So instead, I just watched her sleep. I watched her, and wondered “how had it happened?” How had I ended up in bed next to this angelic woman-child? I could not explain it. We were worlds apart. She was a graduating senior at UT. I was a graduate student. Due to the requirements of my program, I took a couple senior level courses to make up deficiencies in my undergraduate program. I had met Sandy in one of those classes. We had gone out a couple times after exams and had become friends while studying together.
She was the total opposite of my wife of 15 years. My wife’s breasts had never been “small.” When we had married, she was a 36C, now after 3 kids they were “38J” and soft. I enjoyed playing with them, but somehow or the other, they were always “in the way.” One wrong move or turn and she would scream in pain. Sandy was different from Lynne in other ways too. My wife is a very intelligent woman; she could carry on a conversation about anything, with anyone at anytime. However, she is shy and reserved and few people know how smart she is. Sandy, is outgoing and energetic, but is so superficial that anything more than a few words will clue you into her lack of culture and breading.
Lynne had met Sandy on a couple of occasions. After their first encounter, Lynne told me to watch out for Sandy. I blew her off insisting that Sandy’s interests were simply academic and she needed somebody to help her study. I calmly tried to explain that 22-year-old college co-eds were not interested in slightly overweight middle-aged men. Lynne was not very happy about my willingness to help Sandy. Nevertheless, she went along with my stubborn refusal to just stop talking to Sandy.
As the semester went on, Sandy and I spent more and more time together. She talked openly about her boyfriend and her sex life. I could not help but reciprocate with details from my own marriage. I did not feel very good about it, it seemed wrong somehow to share the brutal facts about our failing sex life.
Lynne had never been much for sex. When she wanted to have kids, she would fuck as often as it took to get pregnant, but thereafter the sex cooled until she wanted another. After she had her tubes tied, sex dwindled to about twice a month. Sandy tried her best to offer suggestions. Her romantic youth was optimistic that a little attention and courting could refresh our relationship.
I even tied a couple of her suggestions. However, our marriage had long ago settled into a comfortable routine. Sex was like a dance that we both new by heart. First she played with my dick until it was hard, then we turn on our sides so I could place my dick next to her ass while she plays with her pussy and I reach around and play with her nipples and tits. Then she rolls over and gets on my dick as I lay on my back. After she cums, we trade places and I drive my dick into her pussy until she cums again and then I cum. Then we say good-night and roll on our sides again.
