Lorraine Williams came out of the bathroom wearing her nightgown and laid her comb on the dresser. She was a lean, pretty woman with close-cropped hair that had been nearly white since she was twenty-five. She'd awakened before daylight and was about to go downstairs to the kitchen to put coffee on when her husband Bud, wearing only boxer shorts, walked up behind her, circled his arms around her, and cupped her tiny breasts in his hands.
"Ohhh!!" Lorraine murmured. She leaned back against her husband's muscular body and felt his erection prodding her buttocks. She felt warmth and delight begin to spread through her.
"You're feelin' pretty damn good!" Bud said. He moved his hips, rubbing his erection against her buttocks, and squeezed her breasts.
Lorraine felt her nipples growing erect as her husband thumbed them roughly. His caresses, though crude, caused excitement to shoot into her.
"I still got a little time before I have to get goin'," Bud said and led her to the bed. He laid her down, stripped off his shorts and laid down on top of her. His erection, wet with pre-cum, pressed between Lorraine's soft, slender thighs.
"You like hard cock, don't you, baby?" Bud muttered as he tugged her gown up and spread her legs. Then the arrow-shaped head of his swollen penis slid between her silky labia, opening her, entering her.
It felt wonderful! Lorraine felt the swollen shaft sliding into her, making the fires of pleasure burning in her belly flare wildly.
"Damn!" Bud exclaimed through clenched teeth. "I can't believe it! After all the years we been married, it still feels like you still got the tightest pussy in the world!" He moved his hips, sliding his cock in and out of his wife's clasping channel.
Lorraine had never gotten used to the coarse language her husband used when they made love, but over the years she'd learned not to complain. All her comments about his language did was make Bud angry, and he let her know he had no intention of changing the things he said when they made love. "Jesus, Lorraine," he complained at the time, "When I'm fuckin' you, I'm half outta my mind. How the hell am I supposed to know what I'm sayin'?"
Her husband's thrusts became more and more rapid and Lorraine felt marvelous feelings start to blossom through her.
"God... Damn!" Bud grunted. The muscles in his neck corded with the strain of passion. "You... are... one... fine piece... of... ass!! I'm gonna come! Ahhhhhhh! Unhhhhhh!"
When her husband's hot fluids burst into her, Lorraine felt the rush of delight she always did when Bud came. She never experienced the wild, abandoned feelings some of the women described on the TV talk shows she watched, but feeling Bud coming always made her feel good because it seemed to make him feel so good. It never bothered her that her husband seemed to get so much more pleasure from their lovemaking than she did. All that mattered to her was being a good wife and making her husband happy.
Bud kissed her forehead, then rolled off and lay beside her. "That was fine, as usual, babe," he said. "You know, if I didn't have this fishing trip planned, I'd probably be coming back for more real soon. "
"Bud, I love you," Lorraine said, softly.
"Yeah, babe, me, too," Bud replied. He got off the bed and started getting dressed.
Lorraine lay in bed, thinking. For reasons she didn't understand, this morning she still felt a vague feeling of uneasiness now that their lovemaking was done. She didn't understand the way she felt and tried hard to ignore it. But it kept coming back.
For Lorraine, sex was a pleasant but not fantastic experience. She liked it, but she could take it or leave it. The main reason she did it was because Bud seemed to enjoy it so much. Her mother and father indoctrinated her with the belief that a wife's first and most important job was to keep her husband happy.
Lorraine got out of bed, slipped her robe back on and stepped into her slippers. Then she headed down to the kitchen to make a lunch for her husband to eat on his way to the shore.
A car horn sounded from the driveway outside.
"Hey, Babe, tell Joey I'll be right down, will you?" Rod yelled.
Lorraine walked out on the back porch. "Bud will be right out," she yelled.
Joey Andrews leaned out of his car window and leered at her. "Hey, you're really lookin' good, baby!" he yelled back. "If I was Bud, I sure as hell wouldn't be going away for a week. How about I let Bud go fishing and I'll stay here with you, baby?"
Lorraine's face got hot and she ran into the house. Joey, a mechanic who worked for her husband and was his best friend, was a crude, boorish man who gave her the creeps. She felt dirtied just by having him look at her. But she tolerated him and his frequent rude because her husband liked him.
Bud came down the stairs carrying a duffle bag filled with his clothes and grabbed the lunch Lorraine had made for him on his way through the kitchen. "Thanks, babe," he said as he started out the back door.
"When will you be home?" Lorraine asked.
"Don't know for sure, babe," Bud called over his shoulder as he went across the back porch. "Depends on how good fishing is. Things go good, we're gonna hang out there until the last minute, you know?" There was the sound of him going down the steps, a car door opened and closed, then an engine roared, tires squealed, and he was gone.
"And maybe it will depend on how much beer there is, too," Lorraine thought. She made a cup of tea, went into the living room, turned on the TV, curled up on the sofa, and watched an early-morning talk show. Why was Bud always taking trips with his buddies? Why didn't he ever take her anywhere?
A lady on one of the TV talk shows was discussing sexual fulfillment. Her description of what sex with her husband was like wasn't anything like the sexual experiences Lorraine had with her husband. For the first time in her life she began to wonder if her sex life was really as good as it could be. Tired from getting up before dawn, she dozed off.
