"I am very oral and I swallow," Liz said as my wife Jenna and I sat across from Liz and her husband John in a local restaurant, "but I won't do anything anal."
It wasn't especially strange that the conversation had turned to sex, especially after sharing a few bottles of wine. Ever since we met Liz and John through our kids' sports teams, we've enjoyed frank and at-ease conversation. Over the years, we'd become good friends, but not close or best friends, and we worked to keep the friendship current by going out without the kids from time to time. So here we were, a couples' night out, in a booth at a very nice restaurant.
It wasn't what Liz said, but rather how Liz phrased it that got my imagination going. She said, "I swallow" not "I like to give John head" or "I like to give John blowjobs" or anything that related directly to John. "I swallow" sounded more general, more inclusive. After that, I hung on her every word.
"It's hard for me to give Tony a blow job," my wife interjected. "I have a small mouth and my jaw gets cramped, but I have to admit I like it when he plays with my ass." I turned and looked at my wife with a broad smile and raised eyebrows. We are not a swinging couple and I am sure that she wouldn't handle well the morning after a swing encounter. But, when she gets a little wine in her she does loosen up and in her words "does a little too much sharing".
"I love it when Jenna shaves herself between her legs," I offered wanting to push the topic further. My normal voice is very deep and sexy and it only became deeper as I tried to keep my volume down. "It really drives me nuts. I love the feel of her smooth skin in my hands, how it feels when we make love, and I love to go down on her when she's just taken a bath and shaved smooth."
I could tell Liz was getting turned on. She leaned in towards the center of the table and following her lead the rest of us leaned in with her, "I always keep myself completely shaved smooth and bare all the time," this time glancing directly at me unnoticeably for just a second. "I love the feeling of skin-on-skin and tongue-on-skin." We all leaned back and laughed and we eventually moved on to a different subject.
"Smooth and bare", "I'm very oral and I swallow". These phrases kept swirling around in my head and as I stole glances at Liz that night, I started imagining what her smooth, soft, bare pussy looked like; felt like wet and puffy in my hand, slick and warm around my cock or being traced by my tongue. At this point, I was really getting hot under the collar and tight in my pants.
Liz is what I would describe as a uniquely attractive and sharp looking woman. She has small and delicate facial features and kinky blonde shoulder length hair. She has a thin, small-breasted build that doesn't hold and distribute extra weight evenly and the little extra padding she has resides at her butt and thighs. She really looks great in a tight pair of jeans and a snug fitting top. She often wears small, rectangular, black-rimmed glasses, which give her a classic "naughty secretary" look. Liz is obviously conscious of her appearance and rarely goes out of the house without taking at least some time to make herself up.
But what is most exhilarating about Liz is her intellect. She is a very sharp cookie and it is fairly obvious that she has the brains in her marriage. She is funny, and fast witted. I am likewise and when she and I get going, I can really feel not only the physical energy between us, but also our minds playing off each other in our own private tango.
We finished our evening together "normally" by going to a local club, listening to a band, and going our separate ways. But for days afterwards, I kept envisioning Liz's smooth and soft pussy and imagining what it would be like with that sharp mind focused on giving me pleasure with her mouth and body.
A couple of weeks went by. Saturday was a beautiful, warm spring day so I decided to take a bicycle ride. At 42 years, 6'1 and 170 pounds, I am fit, lean and modestly muscular and the biking and other exercises keep my ass and legs in particularly good shape. I'm a fairly avid cyclist and when I ride I wear the typical Lycra bike shorts and a tight, Lycra shirt. I feel handsome and sexy when I am dressed like this. I love the feeling of the tight slick fabric stretched across my body and I enjoy the turned heads and smiles from ladies driving by.
My route took me by Liz and John's house and I found her outside washing the BMW. She was barefoot and wearing a nice pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt. I coasted into her driveway and we started talking. We hadn't seen each other since our couples' night out so we had plenty to idly chitchat about.
I was still perspiring and breathing heavily, not only from the 25 mile ride, but also from my fantasies about Liz that were streaming back into my head. As I stood there straddling my bike, I noticed her looking me up and down and once I think I caught her daydreaming and distracted from our conversation. She asked me if I was thirsty and invited me inside.
As we entered I saw her young son walk by. He knew me from the team and we exchanged the typical grown-up to kid "Hi." He went down stairs to their basement and we headed toward their kitchen. We all live in an upper middle class area in Maryland, situated between Baltimore, Washington, Annapolis and the Chesapeake Bay. As one would expect, her house was beautiful inside and out, being tastefully decorated and well kept. We sat around the kitchen table and talked.
I inquired where John was and she said that with all the kids' sports, she got some "alone-time" nearly every Saturday afternoon. John, Jr. was home that day because he had been sick and missed school on Friday. I tried to move the conversation slowly and carefully to our night out. I had to find a way to verify my instincts. Was she trying to send me signals the other night? Was she testing the waters? This was tricky. If I was wrong, and this was just harmless fun, then I could be firmly planting my foot into a steaming, heaping pile and threatening our friendship. What I said and how I said it would make all the difference.
"Jenna and I really had a great time with you guys the other night," I said. "And to be honest with you, I thought it was all pretty hot. Some of the stuff you said in particular really got my motor running. When we got home, I convinced Jenna to take a warm bath and freshly shave and we ended up having quite the evening." I gave her a big grin. I thought weaving my wife in there at the end provided me just enough cover.
She leaned back and looked directly into my eyes for a moment. I sensed she was sizing me up and thinking hard about what to say in reply. As she spoke, she looked directly into my eyes and slowly leaned forward.
"Tony, you and I 'get' each other and so I'm going to take a risk and say something flat out. I know I can trust you, right?" I simply nodded. My heart was beating a mile a minute as she paused and took a deep determined breath.