With one hand cradling the testicles pulled firmly against his shaft, one hand vigorously stroking his erection, and her tongue swirling about his cockhead, John erupted deeply into her throat, and Mary fought to swallow every drop of his warm cum, being mostly successful even if a few drops still escaped her lips and fell onto her bare breasts. She would soon rub that in like a soothing balm, its slippery texture adding to the stimulation of her already taut nipples. It had been a while for him, and his swollen testicles had been screaming to be emptied after spending the past week away from Mary on a business trip. A lifetime of oral experiences had taught Mary well, and as she savored the taste of the last drop of his seed, she couldn't help but smile at her private memories of all the cocks that she had sucked dry throughout her life prior to his. They didn't have sex as often as they did back at the start of their relationship, and when they did, he usually didn't last too long. Thank God for the clitoral stimulator that he had given her and that she kept in the top drawer of her nightstand, always within reach. Without the magic that it brought to her pussy whenever she needed it, her sex life would be rather meager these days.
She had nearly sucked the life out of him, and John predictably collapsed on the bed next to her in his post-orgasmic bliss, put his arm around her, pulling her close in a loving embrace, and promptly fell asleep, her release left entirely to her own efforts. No matter. Mary had learned years earlier that John didn't have a lot of staying power, and her pleasure was usually either going to be up to her, or she was going to have to wait for the next time. Sometimes he got her off first, but oftentimes she had a personal need to be a giver to him and just let him enjoy her favors. If she were being totally honest, the thrill of taking full control of him as she drove him to orgasm was a bit of a drug for her, and she took a certain amount of pride in her sexual prowess. A few minutes later with her powerful little battery-operated friend happily sucking on her clit, Mary also exploded in a much needed and very intense orgasm of her own. Far from the old days with guys from her past where the sex went on for hours into the night, but satisfying, nonetheless. She loved John. John loved her. Their sex life was sufficient.
+++
It was the neighborhood book-club night -- actually a rather lame excuse for a bunch of women to get together to drink too much wine and bitch about how inadequate their husbands had become in meeting their needs. It was probably way too much intimate information for neighbors to know about each other, but wine is a good lubricant of the tongue, and here, every woman knew all about what several of the more vocal member's men had to offer and how much of a disappointment they had become in the sack. The guys would have been appalled at the level of intimate disclosure, especially when their package dimensions and sexual proclivities were openly shared and critiqued with more than a little laughter around the living room.
The actual book selection for the month that they all were supposed to have read was generally just an afterthought, and it was more than obvious that none of the girls had even opened the cover. The fact that this particular book was a collection of very erotic stories had been completely missed by the undersexed women of the neighborhood book club. Had they just opened it, the evening's discussion would likely have been much different.
This was a particularly candid night, and several of the women once again took turns sharing their frustrations with their sex lives and their disappointment in their husband's failings as lovers. Pretty sad, really, and Mary was actually starting to feel guilty that her sex life was still meeting her needs, even if it had dimmed a bit over the years. She really liked her friends and felt that maybe, just maybe, she could help.
Some secrets are just too personal to share, even with your best girlfriends. Mary had carefully cultivated an image of propriety in her community. The girls knew that she had a happy marriage, was a member of the PTA at the school, sat on her church's educational board, voted the way she was supposed to vote, and was overall the definition of proper. If they had really stopped to think about it, Mary was usually the quiet one of the bunch when sex lives were being discussed. Little did any of them know that Mary had a secret -- one that they were about to find out all about.
Debbie Miller had just finished a ten-minute oratory assailing her husband Jeff's inability to adequately satisfy her sexually and sharing with them all about his more than occasional erectile dysfunction, which of course was all his fault. Mary knew that if Debbie bitched as much AT him as she did ABOUT him, no man would be able to find anything to be aroused about once they were in the sack.
Mary had had enough. It was time for her to share the secret that she had held onto so tightly for so long.
"So, did any of you actually read the book that I suggested for this month?" Simple enough question. One for which she already knew the answer. "It's a collection of short stories, kinda sexy ones too. I had hoped that you all might have enjoyed them, maybe even used some of the scenarios to spice up those boring sex lives that you've been complaining about all night. Or at least to give you some motivation when you get yourselves off in the shower." The room got noticeably quiet as the shock and truthfulness of what Mary had just accused them of hit them each rather hard. "If any of you have noticed, I don't bitch about John. He's not perfect by any means, but we still have a pretty good sex life. And I still have a rather vivid imagination." The hint of a wry smile appeared on her face as she prepared to fire a cannon at her friends.
Mary took a deep breath. "I have a confession for you. I wrote the book that none of you read. Me. Those are all my stories. Some of them are made up. Some are based on things from my life. I'll leave it to you to decide which is which."
The room stayed painfully silent. Finally, Karen Patrick was the first to speak. "The book was written by someone named Jillianne Scott. Are you saying that she's you?!?"
"She is. I've been writing under a pen name for a couple of years. Surprised?"
You could have heard a pin drop. Then all of them started talking at once. Mary was bombarded with questions, initially about actually writing and publishing a book, but quickly turning to the content as the ladies started flipping through the chapters.
"The first story is about swinging!?! You and John haven't actually done that, have you?" Karen asked, almost afraid of the answer that her straight-laced neighbor might give.
"We've talked about it, and roll-played a bit, but no, we aren't swingers."
"Here's one about two lesbians getting pregnant? Umm..." Debbie questioned.
