Empty Nesters

Hunter and I have been married for twenty-six years. To an outsider, it's been a normal, straight from the rule book marriage. We met, we fell in love, we married, we had three children, a dog, two cars and a house with a white picket fence. All things the perfect, traditional marriage was supposed to have.

Appearances can be deceiving.

I was raised in an old-fashioned, ecumenical family, church every Sunday and emphasis on the Golden Rule and the Ten Commandments. When I was younger, the emphasis was on not lying or stealing. As I got older, the emphasis shifted to abstinence of everything from smoking, drinking and especially sex. Planning to get married added adultery and coveting.

Throughout high school, that worked well for me and my parents. I wasn't part of the "in" group so I was spared much of the peer pressure. I was curious about what I was denied but I kept my thoughts to myself.

My parents selected an excellent, conservative, religiously founded university for me and, after high school graduation, I left home for life in an all-girls, drug and alcohol-free dormitory with a roommate expressing the same ideals my parents instilled in me.

That lasted about one week. Friday night of the first week of classes, Rose, my dorm roommate, and I went to our first fraternity party. The fruit punch was very tasty and I was feeling good about myself and the party. After about two hours, I found myself at the end of a dark hallway with a fraternity brother about two years older than me. We shared my first real kiss and within seconds the fellow had his hand inside both my pants and my panties. I managed to extricate myself from his clutches, left the party and went back to my dorm room.

I sat on my bed in the darkened room congratulating myself on my escape and questioning why, if sex was so taboo, did it feel so good when the fraternity brother touched my pussy and rubbed my clitoris?

I was still sitting in the dark when, well after midnight, Rose came back to our room. I heard her singing as she walked down the hallway approaching our room. She came into the room and closed the door. She was in a buoyant mood although she was quite disheveled. Her hair was a mess, her blouse was buttoned in the wrong buttonholes and her skirt was twisted around so the button and zipper were in front instead of the back. Her socks were missing and, when she removed her skirt, so were her panties.

"Rose," I cried. "What the hell happened to you? Are you all right?"

I wasn't inclined to use colorful language but Rose's condition seemed an appropriate time to start.

"Lyndsay," Rose happily explained as she removed her blouse. "I've just had the most wonderful night of my life."

Her bra was as missing as her panties.

"After all these years, I've discovered sex," she crowed. "It was phenomenal. I've never done anything that made me feel so wonderful. I've had orgasms playing with myself but the orgasms I had tonight were a super nova compared to a bonfire."

"You had sex tonight?" I questioned only half believing her. After all, she had the same background as I did and I escaped. Why didn't she? Her appearance and missing underwear gave credence to her assertion and I had to hear more. "Tell me more."

Rose sat on the bed next to me. I tried to ignore her nakedness as she told me her story. "The fruit punch at the party started everything. It was more than just orange juice and peach juice. It included a large bottle of cheap vodka."

"I figured it out when I got maneuvered into a corner with one of the fraternity brothers," I confirmed.

"Did you have sex too?" asked Rose.

"No," I told her. "But we're not talking about me. Tell me your story."

"Anyway, when they discovered I was a virgin, I became the focus of the party," continued Rose.

"How did they find out you were a virgin?" I asked.

"I told them."

"You told them?" I asked incredulously. "Why?"

"They asked, so I told them. It didn't seem like a big deal to me," related Rose. "Anyway, they have this long-standing tradition of celebrating virgins and I was the immediate focus of the party. We danced, drank fruit punch, and laughed a lot. They sat me on a chair in the middle of the room and asked for volunteers to induct me into their 'once a virgin' club.

"Almost every fraternity brother there volunteered. I was amazed and overwhelmed by all the attention. Someone asked me to make a choice. I chose Jason. He was the best-looking man in the room and his smile alone gave me goose bumps. Jason high fived most of the other brothers and led me down to the basement. One wall of the basement was covered with bras and panties with a sign that said, 'They came here virgins, left women.'

"Jason took me to a bedroom with a large bed. Someone had lit candles all around the room and the air smelled of roses. He closed the door, took me gently in his arms and kissed me. I almost panicked when I realized that he intended to have sex with me."

"Why didn't you leave?" I asked.

"Honestly, I was feeling so good and I had been thinking about losing my virginity for some time, so why not now," Rose explained.

"Anyway, to make a long story short, Jason was the perfect first-time partner. He was gentle, slow and I responded to his every move. He removed my clothing. I removed his. We hugged and kissed on the bed. He touched me in ways that made me want to give myself to him. When he entered me, it was like nothing in my world was more important."

"Didn't it hurt?" I asked.

"Only for a second," Rose said. "After that I began to move with him. I grabbed him so he wouldn't leave. And then the orgasms started. When he came, I screamed. I'd never experienced anything approaching the joy of that moment."

"You let him cum inside you?" I asked astonished.

"He was wearing a condom," explained Rose. "When we were done, we got dressed. I was still dazed by my orgasms. I didn't do a good job getting dressed and Jason kept my bra and panties. We came out of the bedroom and twenty or so fraternity brothers were there to greet us. One of them took my bra and panties from Jason and hung them on the wall with the others. I don't know how many there were but some of them looked as if they went back to the Victorian age."

Rose paused for a moment. "Lyndsay, you have to do it. You have to."

She kissed me, got off the bed and grabbed a towel from her dresser. "I have to get a shower," she said as the left the room, still naked, and headed down the hall to the showers.

She left me with lots to think about, including her kiss.

By the next weekend I had made up my mind. I was getting laid this weekend. I wasn't going to sacrifice myself on the altar of virginity, but I was going to get laid.

It wasn't hard. I went to another fraternity party, avoided the fruit punch, and carefully selected someone to give myself to. His name was Bill and he was a sophomore. I teased him a little and convinced him to come with me back to my dorm room. I had sex with Bill in my own bed. Rose was right. It was incredible. I was hooked. For years, I'd been schooled on the evils and additive nature of cigarettes, alcohol, and drugs but no one had warned me about the additive nature of sex. I wanted more, and lots of it, but first I had to kiss Rose.

By the end of the semester, I was having sex four or five times a week with someone, including Bill, and twice a week with Rose. I was close to becoming a nymphomaniac and the varied partners were important to how I functioned. Then on Valentine's Day, I met Hunter.

Hunter was a junior. He had been raised in a family similar to mine. He had the same hesitations about sex when he started college as I had. His first experience set him on the same path as mine. For almost three years, Hunter had been having sex four or five times a week with several dozen female partners.

We met in the Student Union, a location not usually a good venue for finding sexual partners. Something about the way he looked at me gave me the tingle that usually preceded a sexual encounter. Apparently, he had a similar feeling. We sat at a table with Cokes and exchanged basic information. Within an hour, I was on my back, naked in his dorm room and he was buried deep inside me without a condom. The physical aspect of fucking him was more satisfying than I'd ever experienced and the emotional content of our coupling was beyond my comprehension.

From that day in February, I continued to have sex four or five times a week. At least three times with Hunter. We weren't exclusive to each other but I limited my sex with other men. We discussed it. Hunter committed to be mostly exclusive to me although I didn't require it and I reserved the right to also be with other men. I realized that Hunter was actually exclusive to me when I watched him refuse sex with a blonde with the biggest tits on campus at a fraternity party.

The wedding was in June following my graduation. We lived in a two-bedroom apartment for the first year. While we eschewed sex with others while alone, we did participate in weekend partner swaps with our neighbors and a Fourth of July orgy organized by one of Hunter's co-workers, the same blonde with the big tits from the fraternity party.

We moved to a house in an established neighborhood and the opportunities for couple exchanges were limited. Most of our neighbors were focused on raising children, by both instruction and demonstrating a proper model of conduct. We understood the motivation when we had our first daughter.

We had become our parents although without the extremes. The sexual imperatives continued for both of us but we limited it to our bedroom with the door locked.

Over the years, we had a son and another daughter. Our family was indistinguishable from most of the other families except for the still burning urge to experience sex with other couples.

In August, our youngest daughter left for university. Hunter and I were officially empty nesters. We talked about it. Hunter is fifty-three and looks ten years younger. I'm only fifty and still have the body I had when I was thirty-five. Maybe I have small love handles and my breasts need more support than they did then but I still draw men's attention when I'm all decked out. We decided to try to resurrect our lifestyle before we had the kids. That's why this afternoon we were standing on the starboard side rail of an over large cruise ship watching it float away from the dock in New Orleans. We were headed out on a four-night, five-day voyage to Cozumel and back on a cruise line known for its party atmosphere and testing our ability to have sex with others.

That first evening we ate in the main dining room. The three courses including lamb and shrimp were better than most restaurants at home and the wine intoxicating. After dinner, we walked several walkways, nodding at other couples and talking with several of them.

That night, we made exquisite love to the subtle movements of the ship and slept better than I could have anticipated for the first night in a new bed. We breakfasted in the buffet and walked the ship again looking for things we missed on the first pass the day before.

The weather was warm so we decided to spend the time relaxing in and around the pools for the afternoon. I changed into the more modest, but hardly conservative, two-piece bathing suit I had purchased for the trip and added a diaphanous cover up that really didn't cover up very much. Hunter changed into a boxer bathing suit and a t-shirt. On the way to the elevator, we decided to head in different directions to discover what opportunities might present themselves if we were alone.

I carried my phone, wore the wrist band that unlocked our stateroom and headed for the adults only portion at the stern of the ship. I have no idea where Hunter went. The plan was to connect with someone if possible and meet back at the stateroom in time for a late dinner. Hunter gave me permission to skip dinner with him if I was getting lucky but asked that I return before eleven pm to spend the night with him. I thought it was considerate of him although I didn't actually think I'd get that lucky so soon.

On the adults only deck there were chaise lounges arranged around the pool. Between each pair of lounges there was a small table, maybe ten or twelve inches wide. Part way down the row a gentleman was lying on his back with his eyes closed. He looked to be in his late fifties with salt and pepper hair, a body in reasonable shape, a tightly trimmed beard and short bathing trunks. His phone was on a table next to his chaise. I chose the chaise next to him and put my phone on the table next to his. I opened my cover up and didn't remove it. I lay on the chaise next to his with my light robe hanging over the sides and my body in my small bikini exposed.

I lay next to him for maybe ten minutes with my eyes closed and allowing the sun to warm my body. I heard the sound of metal hitting the table between us. I peeked. The gentleman had put his hand on the table and the Breitling watch that he wore on the inside of his wrist had made the sound I heard when it contacted the tabletop.

I waited several minutes and put my hand on top of his on the table. He didn't react. Not even a twitch of his fingers. I left my hand on top of his, closed my eyes again and lay back enjoying the sun.

A short time later, I felt the movement of his hand under mine. I counted to ten slowly and turned to look in his direction. He was sitting on the side of his chaise, his hand still on the table under mine and staring at me. I gave him a sly smile, closed my eyes again and relaxed on my chaise.

His hand slid from under mine and he stood up. I looked at him again. He held up one finger as if to indicate I should wait for a minute and he left. His phone was still on the table so I assumed he would return. I relaxed and waited.

He was gone for a long time. Eventually, he returned and sat on the side of his chaise again. I looked at him. He was holding two plastic cups that I presumed contained cocktails. I sat on the side of my chaise facing him and he handed me one of the cups. I took a sip. It was a perfect margarita with added amaretto. My favorite cocktail.

He sipped his cocktail and I drank mine. When his was empty, he stood, picked up his phone and stepped from between the chaises. He waited. I took a chance. I stood up, picked up my phone and moved from between the chaises.

He walked away slowly and I followed. He led me to an aft corner stateroom on deck six without saying a word. He opened the door to the room and held it open for me to enter. I walked into the room. The first thing I noticed was a king-sized bed with an over large balcony beyond.

I heard the door close and waited. He gently touched my shoulders. The tingle I felt earlier around the pool returned. His fingers danced on my shoulders and the side of my neck. He began to lightly massage my neck and shoulders. My legs felt weak but I managed to stay standing.

Without actually touching me, he lifted the beach cover up from my shoulders and moved it back from them. I helped him and the cover up slipped from my arms and landed on the floor between us. His fingers returned to my shoulders. I was frozen, anticipating his next move. I almost screamed when I felt his lips on my neck. I knew in that moment, I was going to fuck this man.

A moment later, he untied the strings around my neck holding up the top of my bikini. The strings fell forward. The small triangle of cloth covering my left breast fell off with the string hanging from it. The right bra triangle hung up on my erect and hard nipple.

I held my breath, expecting him to reach around my body and cup my tits. Any other man I'd ever been with would have done just that but he didn't. He continued to kiss the back of my neck as if the skin that had been under the string needed special attention.

My neck has always been one of my more erotic zones and he seemed to know that, like he knew my favorite cocktail and that I'd follow him to his stateroom. He nuzzled and kissed my neck at the same time he found and pulled the ends of the string holding my bikini top around my chest. The bow holding the strings together parted and my bra loosened. It fell forward, swung out on the nipple of my right breast, and fell on the floor.

My body shook with a small orgasm.

He stabilized me with both hands on my hips and continued to kiss my neck. His thumbs found the two bows holding the bottom of my bikini. I shivered as he slowly pulled the ends of the strings that would untie the bows and allow my suit bottom to fall free and leave me completely naked.

The suit did not fall free. It stuck between my thighs. I used my hand to pull the bikini bottom free and toss it aside. I could feel the leakage from my pussy sticking my thighs together. I separated my legs apart to free my thighs.

My paramour pulled me tightly against his body with his hands on my hips. I could feel his hardness pressing between my bare cheeks and I wiggled more tightly against him. He gently pushed me away from him and turned me around. I stood, proudly naked in front of him.

Once again, he didn't do what I expected. His eyes never scanned the length of my body. Instead, he looked deeply into my eyes. His gaze focused deeply into my eyes, probing into my soul. A second orgasm shook my body and I had to sit on the side of the bed.

He stood in front of me and I reached out to him. I pulled him closer and began to unbuckle his belt. He stood statue like with his eyes closed as I completed unbuckling his belt and opened his shorts. He stood stoically as I pushed his shorts and underwear down over his hips. I detected a slight tremor as I pushed his clothing further down and exposed his erection and testicles.

"Oh, my," I whispered as I reached out to hold his erection. It was larger than I thought and harder than I expected. He pulled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and I helped him remove the rest of his clothing before resuming holding his manhood. Unable to restrain myself, I pulled him closer and wrapped my mouth around his erection. He exhaled sharply as if he had been holding his breath and balanced himself with his hands on my shoulders.

I was shaking from another orgasm as I gasped for air and fell back on the bed. He supported himself over me and kissed my neck, chest, and right nipple. Then he started to kiss down my body.

"Later," I gasped. "Fuck me now." The first words either of us had spoken.

I spread my legs and put my heels on the edge of the bed. I'd never been more ready to be fucked. He slid into me slowly. I felt the walls of my vagina stretching as he entered me. The feeling was exquisite. I was trembling even before he reached his limit inside me. When he began to pump back and forth inside me, tears came to my eyes as another, stronger orgasm wracked my body.

He paused. I grabbed his hair and pulled him deeper inside me. "No. No," I screamed. "Don't stop."

He resumed and another, even more intense orgasm took my body and I writhed on the bed beneath him. A few minutes later, the heat from his discharge coursed through my body up into my breasts until my nipples felt as if they were on fire.

He collapsed alongside me on the bed. His breathing was erratic and my heart was pounding so hard he must have heard it. Slowly, I recovered. I rolled toward him, dragged my depleted body up and kissed him. He was too exhausted to kiss me back.

A few minutes later, I managed to get out of the bed and walk unsteadily into the bathroom where I peed, washed most of the stains and residue from my body and returned to the side of the bed. He elevated his body so he could see me.

"Thank you," I said. "You have no idea how much pleasure you gave me in these last two hours."