[Warning: there is incest in Chapter 2. This isn't an incest story, but it was a convenient (and hot) way to contrast Stan's ideal relationship with his unfortunate reality.]
*
30 years removed from high school, this is the story of my reunion. I'm Stan, and at 48 I've been married to Claire for 23 years. She's five years younger, and won't let me forget it. Our daughter, Bev, just turned 18. The other character in the story is Lin, but I'll get to her later.
"Come on AutoWorld, it's been ages," I complained as my wife fended off my groping hands. Her name is Claire, but sometimes I call her by the name of a local car dealer because of the ads. You know, "No interest for six months". Claire is a fine looking woman, beautiful face, clear blue eyes, full breasts. Looks great in a tight pair of jeans. But pretty much coincident with the birth of our child 18 years before, her libido has diminished to zero. We were in bed, and as usual, she was reading and ignoring me, except for the occasional warning to keep my hands to myself.
"Stan, stop it," she kept saying. But, as usual, I was reeeaaally horny. She finally relented, lowering her arms, but continued to read as I played with her boobs. It had been this way for years, and the constant rejection was really getting me down. Beggars can't be choosers, though, and I knew that once she let me play with her boobs, I'd get what I wanted soon enough. Even though her mind never wants it, her body always does.
I had one hand under her shirt, squeezing a boob, rolling a nipple between my thumb and index finger. I lightly tickled her other nipple with my tongue through her shirt. That's all the position of her arms would allow. Initially her nipples weren't too responsive, but I was patient, and eventually they began to stiffen somewhat. I began to bite one nipple and slid one hand to the light curly hair between her legs. I massaged her mound, she held her legs tightly together. Just the very top of her slit was available, and I alternated the massage of her mons with a finger as far as I could reach down into her slit. There had to be a clit in there somewhere. She wasn't wet, so I just did whatever I could.
Eventually, I became aware of a change in her breathing. I looked up at her, and although she was still holding her book, her eyes were closed. Then, as my patience was near its end, she opened her legs a little. I slid my finger down to her vaginal opening, and there was a little lubrication to work with. I spread the moisture up towards her clit with my fingers. It wasn't slippery and slimy like it is when she's really excited, but it was a start.
"Ohh, you are persistent, aren't you?" she said in mock annoyance. She put her book on the end table and spread her legs some more. Now I had her. Now that she was cooperating, I pushed her shirt up over her boobs, and started to suck. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing heavy as I mauled her nipples. The consistency of her lubrication began to change, and the slipperier she got, the more effective my fingers became. My fingers never left her clit as I kissed my way down her body. She murmured something unintelligible as I buried my kisses in her pubic hair. My fingers wandered lower as my tongue took their place at the top of her slit. I licked round and round her clit, then down to where my fingers disappeared into her, dragging more and more lubrication back to her clitoris. I sucked her labia, one at a time, then back to her clit for more licking and sucking. Sometimes I'd be concentrating so hard on my oral activities, I'd forget about my fingers. Then as she got so close that her clit was getting too sensitive, I'd redirect my attention to my fingers, probing every nook and cranny that I could reach. I came up for air for a few seconds, returning my fingers to her clit. By this time, she was really slimy, and she was vocally enjoying my fingers whizzing across her button. It was plain to see that the time had come, so I returned my lips to her clit and my fingers to her G-spot. I awkwardly reached under her leg with my other hand and pushed a finger against her anus. She bucked against the finger, it slipped in a little, and she exploded.
"Ohhhh, ohh, ohhhhhh!"
I was content to leave it at that, smelling and licking my fingers as she went to sleep, but my wife had other ideas. In an instant, my penis was in her mouth, and she was putting her quarter century of experience to maximum use. When we first got married, she had a hard time getting me to cum with her mouth. As time went on, she got better and better at it, and now she was very, very good, although I couldn't identify exactly what she was doing differently. Sometimes she was too much in a hurry for me, but this time she was making it last and last.
"I wish I could come while you're doing that, and then come again inside you," I panted, "but at my age I'm going to have to pick one."
"I want to feel you come inside me," she purred.
She rolled onto her back and I climbed aboard. I'd like to say I pounded it into her for an hour as she came a dozen times, but she doesn't work that way. She's never come more than once, she gets so sensitive after the first one, she can't take any more stimulation, and by the time she's come down from that, she's lost interest. So I plunged into her for a few minutes, and as her lubrication started to wane, I picked up the pace so I could finish. I wanted to hold her, but she was distracted by the mess and by the time she got back from the bathroom, the intimacy was gone. I have to say, though, that at least physically, it was the best sex we had had in a very long time, and I was encouraged, thinking that after such an episode, she surely wouldn't want to wait long for a repeat performance.
I wanted to test that theory right away, but circumstances got in the way and it was almost a week later when I snuggled up to her in bed. She was reading, her back to me. She let me play with her buns for a few minutes, but after a while she glared at me over her shoulder,
"Stan, go to sleep!"
I didn't think I could sleep, I was so worked up. My erection was huge. In fact, it was too huge, I should have known that I was dreaming. I was sitting up, my huge pulsating member standing straight up, well past my navel. Suddenly her face was before me, hovering over it. It twitched and drooled as I felt her breath on it.
"Please," I begged. She rolled her eyes, and with an exasperated look on her face, lowered her mouth towards the head. But as I watched, her face turned into my face, and as the scene got more surreal, it was my mouth wrapped around my shaft. I sucked myself in, deeper and deeper, my neck aching as I stretched as far as I could. As I felt the orgasm about to overtake me, I woke up with a start.
"Are you alright?" my wife asked, looking back at me with her book still in hand. "Claire, please?" I begged, reaching for her. "Go back to sleep," she said with a frown, returning to her book.
It wasn't the first time I'd had this dream. As I began to doze again, I thought about what it meant. It seems my mind couldn't come to terms with my wife actually wanting me. I thought back to how much she enjoyed the sex we'd had just a few days before, and it hit me. It's not that she doesn't want sex, she just doesn't want sex with me.
Chapter 2
I really needed some time away from her, and circumstances obliged. She had a sales convention in L.A. and would be gone for the better part of a week. So it was just my daughter and I. My daughter! I realized I had been so wrapped up in my own problems, I had been neglecting her. The only times I even noticed she was around was when I felt the need to hide the deteriorating relationship between her mother and me.
I called her from work. "Hey you, what do you wanna do for dinner?"
"If you bring home Thai, I'll give you a massage!"
"Deal!"
We had a nice dinner, making stupid comments and laughing. I cleaned up the dishes (that is, I threw away the paper plates), and Bev laid a big beach towel on the floor. "You get changed, and I'll get my massage oil," she said. We had done this a number of times, but never when we were alone. For modesty's sake, I wore boxers over briefs.
"Okay, lay down on your stomach, arms at your sides. Relax! You're so tense!" She knelt by my head and started on my neck and shoulders. I swiveled my head, trying to relax my neck muscles, and found myself looking directly at her crotch. I quickly closed my eyes.
"Relax! Take a deep breath," she instructed. As I breathed in deeply through my nose, I detected a smell that was very disturbing to me, at least when coming from between my daughter's legs.
We made small talk, and I became resentful as I realized that Bev saved all her significant conversations for her mother. I'd always hear about the important things second hand. So I decided to do something about it.
"So, how's your love life?"
"Daaad!"
"Come on, you never tell me about anything important."
"I do too, and besides, I don't have a love life!"
"An eighteen year old as gorgeous as you? Somehow I don't believe you."
"I'm not gorgeous, and you know I haven't been seeing anyone."
"You are gorgeous, and I know if you were seeing someone, you'd never tell me about it."
