Indoctrination 04 Homecoming

"Penny?" This was her abbreviated version of the conversation inducing idiom. She knew something was on my mind and occupying my thoughts because of my uncharacteristic quietness today. We have always been very open with one another, and she knew how to coax me into vocalizing my reflections.

"Hmm? Nothing."

She knew better, though. She can read me like a blinking neon billboard. Easier than a book, she doesn't even have to open the cover; it's all right there on my face. She turned toward me with a slight smirk and a don't-fucking-lie-to-me look.

"Bullshit. What's wrong?"

I took a breath and thought for a moment how to express my curiosity without sounding like a pathetic, jealous husband.

"I was just wondering, now that you've been with a few other guys besides me lately, and they were all pretty much different size, shape, whatever, did you have a favorite or preference?" For whatever reason, I couldn't look at her when I asked the question. Afraid of the answer? Embarrassed for asking? I don't know.

She looked away, thinking, formulating an answer. My brain went into hyperdrive considering all the possibilities of what she was thinking: she's afraid to tell me she prefers John's perfect rugby body; or she's a size queen now after taking Tom's thick cock; or after having Nathan's long shaft touching places no one else has. Maybe it's just the variety, maybe she just wants to keep fucking more men because I can't give her enough at home. I don't think we've been fucking less, have we? It seems like more, but now I don't know. Are we just having more sex, but I'm not actually fucking her? Round and round my mind went, a hundred miles an hour. I tend to overthink the fuck out of things. It seemed like a million thoughts coursed through my head in the three seconds before she spoke with a pleasant grin.

"Which do you prefer: peaches, pears or oranges?"

"Umm, what?"

"Peach, pear or orange, which one? When you walk into a fruit stand, which do you pick up? One of those or something else? Banana? Grapes? Which?"

Her eyes twinkled a little.

"Fuck, I dunno, depends on what I'm in the mood for. Depends on what I'm craving at the...oh, I get it."

"So the answer to which or whom I prefer is: Yes."

Her smile brightened even more with a look of satisfaction that she'd made a clever point. I felt a warmness in my groin looking at the luscious smile on my wife's fresh innocent face, imagining her in the mood for, or craving a cock other than mine. The thought of watching someone else's penis slide past those smiling lips made me tingle. But it also made my mind race again with questions; what will this do to us, where will I end up?

She studied my face, and then her smile began to diminish, and morphed into a look of concern and thoughtfulness. She easily read the neon billboard again.

"That's not really it, though, is it? It's more than just being curious about what I like or prefer, isn't it? You're worried that I'm going to like strange dick too much. That I'm going to prefer it over you. What you're really asking, what you're really concerned about is whether so-and-so fucks better than you, aren't you? Do they make me cum harder or better. Do I want them inside me more than you. That's really what you're asking, right? I mean, you were there for all of them, so you know Tom is way thicker than you, Nathan is much longer than you, and even though John is bigger than you, it ain't by much. So you know where you stand in that regard. But what you're really worried about is whether I want them over you, huh? Jesus, honey..."

She took a deep breath and sighed, slowly shaking her head. She placed her hand on my thigh and fixed her gaze on me. In an even, soft, tender tone she spoke.

"Honey, imagine a tree in my garden. A beautiful tree that I take special care of. And it's not just planted haphazardly there, stuck in a corner or something. No, it's the centerpiece of my garden. It's big and full and gorgeous. When people visit, I'm complimented often on how magnificent it is. That tree is my labor of love. I tend to it every day, making sure it's well nourished and protected from disease and parasites. I like to decorate it and dress it up or embellish it from time to time to make it even more special. I love how it's perpetually in bloom with the most fragrant and colorful flowers. And the fruit it produces...oh my gawd, the fruit. It gives enough to satisfy me year-round, and it is the most delicious, succulent, mouth watering fruit you could ever imagine. That is what makes such a difference in my fruit preference. I can go to the local farmer's market and get the same type of fruit, and I'll probably find it good and tasty, but no way can it compare to fruit from my own tree. Because the fruit from my tree is connected to me. I have an emotional bond with that fruit because it's from the tree I nurture in my garden. It's not just any old fruit someone else had grown. No, this is MY fruit from MY tree. It will always be better and more satisfying. Not just tangibly, but emotionally as well. Nothing can ever come close to giving me what I need like my own tree."

She paused for a moment, for emphasis, then placed her hand on my cheek and looked deeply into my eyes. In a soft deliberate whisper she spoke.

"Baby, you are my tree.

"Yes, those other guys can make me cum, but you, honey, you make my soul climax."

She leaned forward and placed a soft warm kiss tenderly on my lips. My eyes stung a little and my throat tightened up. I sniffled, and thought to myself, "how did I get so fucking lucky to have a woman like this that loves me as she does?"

I returned the kiss, grabbing a handful of her golden tresses at the back of her head and pulling her into me. She began to mew into my mouth as our tongues danced to the tune of our desires. The kiss was hot and full of passion. She was caressing the side of my face with one hand, while rubbing her other along the inside of my thigh. She eventually broke the kiss and sat back a little, a dreamy smile on her face.

"Gawd, I love how you kiss me."

"Mmm, good, because I love kissing you. So tell me, what kind of fruit tree am I?"

She cocked her head a little and just looked at me, blinking a few times while she contemplated the possibilities. Then she broke into a big confident smile.

"Apple, definitely apple."

"Hmm, really? Apple? I was thinking banana or pear."

"No, you're getting mixed up thinking about me. You're bananas about me because you love this great pair of boobs I have."

She giggled with a big cheesy grin.

"See how I did that? Pear, pair of boobs..."

"Yes, dear."

I rolled my eyes shaking my head.

"Okay, seriously, why apple?"

"Because apples are absolutely the most versatile fruit out there; they can be enjoyed, or used, in so many delicious ways. They can be had alone, or they're really good in fruit salads, too, when they're enjoyed with other fruits." She giggled a wink at her innuendo. She leaned in closer and placed her hand on the lump in my crotch, stroking lightly.

Her voice turned husky and she took nibbling bites of my neck as she spoke. "But the apples from my tree are especially delicious when enjoyed alone. For instance, I might just want to take one directly off the tree and devour it right there. Because when I haven't had any fruit in a while and I don't have time to make a fancy dessert, I just need to satisfy my raw craving with a big delicious juicy apple; taking big sweet bites and filling me with delicious fruit, all that juice running down my chin, all over my hand, satisfying my burning carnal hunger."

Her hand continued to caress my crotch and I felt myself begin to swell. She moved her face close to mine and traced her tongue across my lips, gently catching my lower lip with her teeth. She pulled it away slightly and then released it to spring back in place. I heard myself moan.

"Or there are times when I want some loving comfort food like fresh warm apple crisp. When I'm hungry for something familiar and reassuring, something that makes me feel safe and secure. It's a dish where preparation begins early, adding all the ingredients slowly throughout the day, mixing them all together tenderly with love. And then the anticipation as I smell it baking, filling the house with the aroma and aura of what's to cum when I'm able to wrap myself up cozy and slowly enjoy every bite of that delectable dish."

Her voice had become soft and whispering, a syrup of affectionate tone. She ran her tongue up along my neck and gingerly sucked my earlobe. I was nearly fully erect by now, my eyes closed and lips parted, wishing for a brush of hers yet again.

"And then there are the nights that I'm served the finest of apple wines, like being at a red carpet event on a special Hollywood night. After a mere few sips I become drunk with a lustful desire to grab the bottle and chug its sweet nectar straight away. But my waiter always knows best. He serves me the perfect portion at the perfect time, allowing me to enjoy that liquid love for hours into the night. Glass after glass I sip until I am completely lost in the intoxication of being ravished, transformed into a lady of divine romance."

She was kissing me fully with her tongue deeply exploring my mouth while her fingers ran through my short cropped hair. At some point she had climbed up to straddle me and was undulating her crotch against mine, which caused my erection to throb. She was moaning through her kisses and taking little nibbles of my lips. I could tell she was getting pretty worked up by the increase in her breathing and the way her hips were slowly rocking back and forth involuntarily. She stopped kissing me and rested her forehead upon mine, our noses touching, and she whispered against my lips.

"Baby..."

"Hmm?"

"I have a craving for some apple crisp."

"Oh?"

"MmHmm. Take me to bed and feed me."

Two days later I came home from work and delivered some unfortunate news to my wife.

"Honey, I have to go to Colorado next week."

"What?! Really? We're supposed to go to the Hungry Kitten to watch Sarah's brother's band, next Thursday" she whined. "How long will you be gone?"

"Four days. I fly out on Tuesday and back on Friday."

"Damnit, I was really looking forward to getting out and doing some dancing and maybe party a little. We haven't been able to do that in such a long time. I've heard his band is pretty good, too." The look of disappointment on her face made my heart hurt.

"Sweetheart, you can still go, I don't want you to miss that opportunity. Go with Sarah and Sally and make it a girl's night. Call Rhonda and see if she wants to go, too."

"I want to go with you," she pouted and sighed deeply.

Nothing more was really said about it the rest of the week. She understood it's not a choice, I had to go, just as I've done the entire time we've been married. She had been looking forward to watching the band and doing some dancing, so her disappointment was understandable. I could feel her dejection the entire week. Although we had sex a couple of times, she was still dour, preoccupied.

Thursday of that week we were lying in bed snuggled together when she asked, "Are you sure you wouldn't mind if I went to watch the band next week?"

"No, honey, I think you should go. I'd feel better, though, if you got a ride with Sarah or Rhonda. That way you don't have to worry so much about how much you drink."

"You sure you want me drinking if you're not there? You know how horny I get when I drink," she smiled.

"I'm sure you'll stay out of trouble, sweetheart. I trust that you'll behave yourself, and I trust your girlfriends won't let you do anything stupid." I honestly did believe she wouldn't do anything without me there, but that tingling sense of erotic jealousy raced through my body as the possible scenarios illuminated in my mind.

She sighed. "I'm thinking about going, but I'm still not sure. I'll be bored and lonely without you there."

"You'll be with the girls."

"They're not you."

That's the last that was said and we went to sleep. The weekend passed quickly, too quickly. We took the boat out and did some fishing and cruising. Time always passes far too fast when we're out boating. By Sunday evening we were pretty beat so we went to bed early and skipped the intimate play part. My wife didn't seem to be in the mood, anyway, nor was she the night before. I hoped I would be able to change her mood tomorrow so we could make love before I left on Tuesday. My worries proved unnecessary, she was more than willing the following morning.

I woke to the sensation of a wet warmth enveloping my penis. My sleepy fog lifted and I became aware of my wife slowly bobbing her head up and down my rigid erection. I stirred slightly and moaned, and she stopped on the upstroke to see if I was awake.

"G'morning," she said with a smile, her lips brushing against the tip as she spoke. She let the head push past her lips again and slowly continued to slide up and down while looking into my eyes. She paused again, her hand continuing a rhythmic massage. "Sleep okay?"

"mHmm," I replied.

"Good, then you should be well rested enough to take care of me this morning," she said with a randy smile. She climbed up my body and gave me a deep kiss, driving her tongue into my mouth. I could taste the tangy sweet precum that coated her tongue. She was grinding her pelvis against me and rubbing her exposed clit up and down my cock. She broke the kiss and said, "I've been thinking about your cock inside me for the last twenty minutes while sucking your dick, I need you to fuck me."

With that said she slid to the side and coaxed my body to roll on top of her, settling between her spread legs. Without hesitating she grabbed my erection with one hand, placing the tip against the opening of her vagina, the other grabbed my ass cheek and drew me forward, sinking into her depths with one easy motion.

"Damn, you're wet this morning."

"Uh-huh, see what you do to me?" she whispered almost breathlessly. "You feel so fucking good." Her hips were undulating and gyrating rhythmically in time with my slow strokes.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply with a fervent passion. Our tongues danced and played and fought each other, her hands were grabbing my hair, she lightly caught my lower lip between her teeth and gently pulled on it while smiling at me.

"I want you to make love to me all morning," she whispered, "but I know you gotta go to work. Gawd, I love you inside me."

"What a coincidence; I love being inside you."

She set the tempo. We began slow and deliberate, paying attention to one another's reactions and sounds. Her moans and mewls were my counsel, her hands gripping my ass, my guide. The steady rhythmic coital massage slowly increased as her mews became whispered grunts, and her declaration of adoration and love transformed to utterances of encouragement wrapped in profanity. As the tempo increased, so did her lewdness. She squealed ohs and ahs and fuck-mes, and her hips pivoted obscenely to meet each of my thrusts.

Her face was angelic in its appearance of ecstasy. Eyes closed and mouth in a frozen O, the sounds now were indiscernible, save the lasciviously obscene requests to bring her to orgasm. She implored me in pornographic detail to fill her deeper, drive into her with force, dump my load into her and saturate her wanting hole.

Her nails dug deep into the cheeks of my butt simultaneous with her hips rising off the bed as she arched her back when the climax hit her. She screamed a high-pitched ohmyfuckinggawd and shook uncontrollably as the waves of orgasm went on and on. This was enough to put me over the edge and I shot a four day load of semen deep inside her pulsating pussy.

We laid there catching our breath, enjoying the euphoric post coital glow. I was nuzzling and nibbling on her neck while she was running her hands over my back and butt. I whispered my love and adoration for her while I reached down between us and grabbed her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, giving each a gentle squeeze and twist. Her back arched just slightly as she smiled a purring moan.

My cock had softened to the point of nearly slipping from her cum filled canal. I started to slide down her body so I could clean up the mess we'd made when she stopped me.

"No, honey, you don't have time." I looked at her and stuck out my lower lip. "I'm sorry, I know how much you love sucking cum from my pussy, you little cum-slut, but you need to get going or you'll be late for work."

I sighed my disappointment. "Alright. Are you going to work, today?"

"Yeah, but I'm going in late. I'm going to lay here and enjoy this feeling a little longer. Before you go, open my panty drawer and get me the plum satin pair sitting on top. I need to put something on before I drip you all over the sheets," she said with a giggling smile.

I threw the panties to her and went to the master bath for a shower. When I came out and dressed, I saw that my wife had drifted off to sleep, breathing quietly. I kissed her forehead, whispered an I-love-you and left for work.

The work day progressed without issue. I tied up some loose ends before my trip early the next morning. At the end of the day I headed home with the intent of eating dinner, packing for my trip, and getting to bed early. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll get some sex again tonight, too, I thought.

When I got home I was surprised to find my wife had made a wonderful Caesar salad followed by her famous meaty pasta sauce mixed with cheese stuffed tortellini and for dinner. She had a great bottle of Chianti opened and breathing, which, I wagered, increased my chances of sex later that night. She purposely kept the portions light so there wouldn't be any squishing of the tortellini later.

After dinner I helped her clean up the kitchen, she helped me pack for the trip, and then we went to bed. We made slow passionate love, consummating again our devotion to one another. We took our time, giving each the opportunity to please the other. I went down on her through two orgasms, she sucked me leisurely, bringing me to the edge several times. I moved between her legs and slowly entered her. After she screamed through a few more orgasms, I filled her sweet box with my cum.

"Thank you, honey. Now get down there and enjoy your dessert," she said with a naughty smile.

After cleaning her pussy, I moved up and kissed her deeply. She sucked on my tongue, sharing in the flavor of us. Afterwards we cuddled like spoons and fell asleep. The next morning came too soon and I got up to shower, trying not to wake my wife.

After showering and dressing, I found her in the kitchen making me a cup of coffee. She had moved my carry-on suitcase to the door, and even made a little snack for me to eat on the plane. I swear she does something every day to remind me just how lucky I am to be married to her.

The drive to the airport was smooth that early in the morning, having chosen an early departure to avoid traffic. I could have traveled the day prior, but that would have meant another night away from my gorgeous wife. I scheduled this flight to arrive in Colorado early enough to make it to my first meeting of the day.

As I sat in the terminal waiting for my flight to board, I watched other travelers milling around and heading to their respective gates. I passed the time pondering the recent developments in my marriage, and just let my mind wander around the possibilities. With the way my wife's libido and interest in exploring her own sexuality has increased, I couldn't help but look at the variety of men around and wonder who she would find desirable. I realized that I didn't even know if she has a "type."

As far as I know, since we've been married she's only been with the two men earlier this summer. Well, three counting Nathan; he was really a quickie, however, which she admitted to be unfortunate. The first, John, was a little taller than me and thinner. From what I remember at the BBQ, he was handsome and in very good shape with a rugby player's body. The other one, Tom, was also taller than me and much more muscular. He was built like a linebacker. I wondered if it was the muscles she liked? Maybe I need to start working out again. Or maybe it's a different kind of muscle she found so desirable. I didn't get a look at John because I was only able to listen to their encounter, but I saw Nathan's and Tom's package. Nathan had the longest dick I'd ever seen, being a good 11" when hard. She grimaced in pain when he got past the 8" mark, but in just a few strokes she seemed able to accommodate him entirely. She seemed to really enjoy the extra four inches I can't give her for the time he lasted, but that time was far too short in her opinion. I remember her complaining that having such a long dick and not knowing how to use it was a waste and crime against nature.