I had slept well in the aftermath of our lovemaking last night. Being an early riser, I went downstairs to put on the coffee and looked out the kitchen window to see the first snowfall of the season. The sun was just coming up, giving texture to the snow sculpted and etched by the wind and cover for the muted browns and greys of November. It looked cold.
I shivered a bit, picked up my tablet to read the news and waited for the coffee to finish brewing. Leslie wandered down about fifteen minutes later in her pajamas still a bit sleepy and disheveled. I was just pouring myself a cup as she shuffled her way into the kitchen. I got her a cup as well which elicited a groggy 'thanks' while she grabbed her phone to begin flipping through email.
We didn't say much as we waited for the caffeine to lift the fog.
"So. About last night. You okay?", I asked.
Leslie looked up. "Yeah".
She took another sip of her coffee and then added after another moment, "I hope you had fun. That it was what you wanted."
"Yeah, I guess it was, but...".
I hesitated.
"I don't think it was what you wanted. Was it?"
"Well, I enjoyed it because you did", she replied.
"It wasn't something I wanted for me but it ended up being more fun than I expected."
And then, smiling mischievously, she added, "And, how are you feeling? Walking straight?"
I laughed and nodded yes. While I could certainly tell that Leslie had fucked me well with the large dildo, I wasn't sore or feeling raw. Instead, what I felt was a pleasant reminder of our lovemaking last night.
Leslie became more serious. "Chris, I need to know you still want and desire the woman in me, just as I still want you as a husband."
I sighed and looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry I gave you any reason to ever doubt that. I really do love and desire you, Leslie. So very much."
She continued, "I was...let's say 'surprised' at how you swallowed my dildo. Shocked really. I mean, it's a lot bigger than you are. I certainly couldn't do it but you deep-throated it. That's not a beginner-level skill."
"You said you practiced on my other dildo. You must have practiced a lot."
I again took my eyes to the floor to avoid her gaze as I nodded with embarrassment. "I certainly couldn't at first. But I wanted to know what it was like. To see if I could. So I worked at it."
Leslie nodded thoughtfully. "Can I ask you why?"
I gave this some thought.
"It's kind of hard for me to describe. I suppose it's the taboo nature of it."
I took another sip of my coffee and continued.
"I think it's probably obvious that most guys want to be deep-throated. To be taken all the way, because it feels really good. It's like when we make love. I want to be as deep into you as I possibly can. I can't help it."
"But there's more to it than that. There's kind of a psychology to it. We want to be taken all the way because we want you to be hungry for it. Hungry for me. Nothing seems sexier to guys than to have someone going to town on us out of their own lust."
"It's great that you want to do it for us, to deep throat us because you know we want you to. But it's way better if you want to do it for you."
"Like when I go down on you. I love your fragrance and taste, and the sight of you, to feel you quiver under my lips. I love everything about it. Everything."
"I love that you enjoy it and I want to do it for you. But I also love doing it for me. It excites me in so many ways. The first few times I went down on you before we married, I was so turned on I almost came without touching myself. It still turns me on like crazy."
"I think many guys, maybe more than either of us would guess, even supposedly 'straight' guys are curious about what it's like to be on the giving end, too. You already know that was me. I couldn't get it out of my mind and I wondered what it was like. And I never thought I would experience the real thing."
"Well, since I was imagining it anyway, I wanted to go as far as I could, to see if I could take it all the way. The salaciousness and taboo nature of doing it kept me at it until I could. Which, to be honest, was pretty thrilling when I finally did it."
"In any case, that must have been quite a shock for you. I'm sorry about that."
Leslie nodded, seeming to understand, and asked, "How long have you been curious about cock?"
"For about the past 10 years or so. I don't know when exactly. There wasn't some specific moment. I guess I started to become curious as I watched you going down on me. It felt so good. And I thought it looked kind of fun. I started to wonder what it was like and became more curious the more I thought about it. I guess I'm a bit orally fixated."
"Chris? Was Halloween night the only time you've actually done it? Be honest with me."
"Leslie. I promise that was the only time. And it will be my only time. I'm so sorry. It was a betrayal. I won't do that to you again."
She nodded her acceptance of my answer at face value.
After another minute, Leslie, looking down at her phone, quietly asked, "Can I assume you demonstrated your skill Halloween night?"
The question stung, though I'm not sure she meant it that way. It was still raw and her trust, which was so easy to lose, might be hard to gain back.
I nodded. "I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry, Leslie. And that it won't happen again."
She got up to go to the other room and refill her coffee cup. She didn't come back directly and I didn't want to chase her so she could have space.
After a few minutes, she came back and we were quiet for a while.
"I'm okay, Chris. Still in a bit of shock about things. Processing. But okay."
"Oh, and by the way, I invited Charlene over for dinner tonight."
Charlene, being Leslie's best friend and now single, was a frequent guest for dinner. She's fun, unpredictable, and sassy. She and I had become fairly close, too. But, I had some lingering questions after Charlene's comment at the Halloween party.
Dinner was delicious and the conversation playful, aided by a nice bottle of wine. Leslie is a really good cook and I'm a decent helper. I got up to do the dishes and Charlene helped clear the table as Leslie was finishing her wine.