My wife leaned over me, long hair falling over my thighs and covering her perfect face. I had to reach down and pull it back so I could watch my swollen cock slide between her bright red lips. She looked up and watched me watching. I could tell she was enjoying it as much as I was.
Melanie and I had been married for almost seven years, a second marriage for both of us. On our second date, we discovered we shared an attraction -- maybe I should call it zealousness -- for oral sex. Could be it was something we'd found lacking in our first marriages. Or possibly we simply found each other too delicious to abstain from "sexual snacking," as we liked to call it.
I'd lost the plot in dozens of DVDs because Melanie would open my slacks and start fellating my flaccid cock until I got hard and finally exploded in her mouth. It was a salty treat she preferred to popcorn.
I would get my snacking in when she was on the computer. She'd be tapping the keyboard in her short silk robe and I'd slip in, turning her chair and sliding my hands up her smooth legs until she'd open them wide enough to accommodate me. She might play with my hair or she might ignore me completely and continue keystroking until I made her reach the point of no return. Then she'd raise her hips off the chair and cum hard against my face.
The only time we ran on a schedule was during Melanie's monthly "visits." Unlike women who suffer cramps and unpleasantness at that time of the month, Melanie got incredibly horny. While some women craved chocolate or sweets at that time, my wife wanted something salty.
One night, Melanie was waiting for me in our bedroom. The room smelled of vanilla and the candlelight flickered, sending sensuous shadows dancing over the walls. Melanie is a redhead -- "aesthetically enhanced," she likes to say -- and since there's no carpet to dispute the drapes, the shimmering glossy texture of her auburn hair looks and feels incredibly natural. From time to time, she likes to experiment with different colored contact lenses and this night her eyes were a cold liquid blue.
She was wearing a lacy purple bra, cut low to display the swell of her 36 Cs and matching purple tap pants. On both hands, she wore black velvet gloves.
She'd run me a bath and as I stripped and lowered myself in the water, Melanie poured me a glass of champagne. She extended it to me in a velvet hand.
"Good day at work?" she asked, pouring herself a glass.
"It was... hard," I said.
She smiled. Her bright red lipstick was designed to enhance what was about to happen. "I can see that," she said, gesturing her head to my cock, which refused to lower into the hot water. She sipped her champagne. "Take your time. Your towel is on the rack. I'll be in bed waiting.
Take my time. Sure. Like that would happen knowing what awaited in the next room. I soaped myself down, rinsed and walked into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around my neck. My cock led the way.
Melanie was on her knees in the middle of our bed, watching me. I threw the damp towel on the floor and kneeled on the mattress, kissing her red lips and tasting her tongue. She ran her velvet hands over my shoulders and down my arms. I reached around and unsnapped her bra and she shrugged and let her breasts free. Her nipples were hard and I could tell by the blush at her throat that she was steaming to cut loose. But she played it slow.
Her black-velvet palm reached out and stroked my hardness, pulling me closer until I had to climb all the way onto bed with her. I pulled her hair back and kissed her neck, shoulder, working my way to her tantalizing breasts. I cupped the left one and circled the nipple with my tongue. She responded by tipping her head back and moaning.
I started to move my mouth to the other nipple but my wife had other ideas. She pushed me back onto the bed and positioned herself between my knees. Lowering her face, she ran her tongue down the side of my shaft until it got lost in my trimmed pubes. She slid her velvet-covered hand over my balls and I moaned at the cool, smooth sensation of the fabric against my skin.
Melanie brought her tongue up the underside of my cock, slowly tracing the big vein, until she reached the spot just below the glans, where the skin is most sensitive. I moved her hair back so I could watch but she took her hands and swept mine away. This was to be a hands-off performance. I settled in to enjoy the sensations.
Melanie swept her red hair to one side and looked up at me with smiling blue eyes. She lowered her mouth over the head and was sucking and working her tongue on the underside of my dick. I watched her. She watched me.
With one hand, she gripped the base of my cock and squeezed, then twisted. She repeated this as she worked on the top of my cock with her talented mouth.
As her saliva made my dick slicker, Melanie would take a little more of me in. Before long, she was bobbing her mouth up and down my cock, snaking her tongue out every now and then to lick the shaft.
I kept my hands on the bed, but I was shifting and thrusting my hips in total pleasure. Melanie once told me that was her favorite part of giving head -- watching my uncontrollable reaction as I got closer to climax.
I was moaning and writhing and watching my beautiful wife pleasure my cock. As she pumped me with one gloved hand, she caressed her breast and nipple with the other. The black silk shone against her pale breast. She pinched and pulled her nipple between her finger and thumb and moaned on my cock.
The vibrations and scenario pushed me over the top. I knew I didn't need to warn her because we were in sync with our orgasms. As I reached the point of no return, Melanie raised up, putting her open mouth over the very tip of my cock. Though she loved swallowing, sometimes she'd change things up to enhance my pleasure.
I felt my load launch up my cock and watched it burst into her mouth and coat her tongue. She made no move to close her mouth, letting the full load run back out of her mouth and down my sensitive dick. It dripped onto the black glove looking like a liquid pearl against the fabric.
When I'd stopped -- and there were three or four good clips of the white stuff -- Melanie lowered her red lips over my cock, sucking the dripped cum back into her mouth. She pulled free of me with a pop and I saw her tongue working in her cheek. She swallowed and then raised the glove to her lips to lick the still-warm remnants off. Then she went back down on me to make sure she got it all.
"That was incredible. The best yet," I told her later, as she lay against me under the covers.
"You say that every time," she laughed.
"Every time with you is the best."
Melanie ran a finger over my nipple, circling it, playing with my chest hair. "I told Claire what we do," she confessed.
"Really? Are you guys that open?"
"Don't you tell your buddies about us?"
I thought for a minute. This seemed one of those questions that wives ask and don't really want to hear the answer.
"Uh...no," I told her. "It seemed too...sacred."
Melanie laughed. After seven years, she didn't buy my bullshit. But she didn't mind either.
"Have you ever heard of pineapple juice?" Melanie asked and I knew immediately where this conversation was going.
"Are you saying you don't like the way I taste?"
Melanie got a serious look. "No, Honey, not at all. God, I love your cum. I just thought it might be a fun experiment. Claire says if a man drinks enough pineapple juice, it makes his cum taste like a piña colada."
Claire was that most dangerous of all women to a married man: The wife's BFF who causes unsolicited fantasies to spring forth at inopportune times. Long-legged, full-busted with long curly blonde hair, Claire once showed up at the house wearing simple blue jeans and a tank top and stayed for several beers. Afraid to let her drive home, we put her up in the guest room wearing one of my dress shirts. I hoped Melanie thought it was the beers that made me fuck her for over two hours that night, trying to cum quietly so we wouldn't wake our guest.
"Well. Claire would be an expert on piña coladas," I said. "Not so much on men."
Melanie laughed. "She can't help it she's attracted to jerks." I had my hands wrapped around her from behind and was slowly stroking her nipples. Melanie's hand was stroking the top of mine. "What do you think?"
"About?"
She rolled over and pressed her body against me. "Pineapple juice. You have to drink it for ten days. And no cumming until the ten days have passed." Her hand covered my cock and it lurched in her palms. "Up for an experiment?"
"I'm always up," I told her.
"I feel that," she said. "OK, last call for ten days." And she slid under the covers and used her mouth to bring me off all over her face, neck and breasts.
I guess I didn't consider the "experiment" carefully before agreeing to it. For one thing, pineapple juice really starts to suck after the third day. We went down to the discount store and bought half a shopping cart full of the stuff. I couldn't help but wonder what the cashier thought and how well the basis of this "experiment" was known to the general public.
But I stuck to the plan. No beer, no coffee, no wine, no soda, only water and pineapple juice. The second day, I got a headache. Caffeine withdrawal. By the fourth day, I really, really wanted a beer. I mean, pizza and pineapple juice? Come on!
But the real challenge came on the sixth day. It was Melanie's turn.
We'd gone out to the pool for a nude moonlight swim. Melanie climbed out and sat on the edge with her feet dangling in the water as she toweled her hair. I swam up between her legs, put my hands on her knees and gently urged them apart.
