The late spring sun came through the window, illuminating the dust motes drifting in the air currents. Cindy, my wife of three years, and I were recovering from a lazy afternoon lovemaking session. She tousled the thick hair on my chest, then lowered her lips to my nipple and suckled gently.
"Are you thirsty, honey?" I joked. She raised her face and grinned at me.
"I don't suppose you are gonna start leaking milk for me, are you?" she joked back.
"Well, I'm going for a beer. Want anything?"
"I'll get some ice water after I pee," she said. She rose to her feet and I watched her butt waggle toward the bathroom. I padded out for a beer. Cindy was the second woman I'd fallen for who carried some extra weight and padding around her waist and butt. In my younger days, like most American men, I'd always gone for the slender girls and women. That got me a lot of bruised pubic bones, when I did get a willing date.
First, there was Nancy (we used to call her 'Nasty Nan', due to her lewd sense of humor). I'd come to realize that the personality of a woman -- her core -- was a kind of 'one-size-fits-all' sort of thing, but it's internal -- not in their physical attractiveness. Plus, sex with her had never left me sore above my dick from slamming into those close to the surface pubic bones thinner women have, and we had a lot of fun out of bed, too.
Nancy and I enjoyed a few months of coital fun before we split up, but we remained friends. Half a year later, I met Cindy. She was smart and pretty, didn't have huge tits, but did have a sense of humor that matched my own.
All of which put her on the 'plus' side for me. I appreciate seeing
outrageous mammaries, but they don't really turn me on. I prefer smaller tits with less fat under the nipples. From her waist, her lower limbs grew outward, looking very strong.
Cindy accepted my invitation to dinner and we had a great time. We began dating regularly. After a few months we were in an exclusive relationship. A year after we met, we were married. I was 45 then and she was 33. Neither of us wanted to have kids. Our life together was a wonderful thing. I'd been married before, to a woman who turned out to be a basic bitch. She watched me when we were out. Woe unto me if I looked toward (not necessarily 'at') another female or couple.
One of the first things she did was trash my collection of Playboy magazines, going back to the sixties -- which I'd kept carefully preserved for possible future sale. Leaving no doubt in her head of how much potential profit she'd thrown away, I told her to keep her fucking hands off my stuff. She mustered up enough emotion (likely anger in her case) to produce a few tears, but I was so pissed off it didn't work.
To keep peace, though, I stopped bringing them home; only looking at copies in the work lunchroom the other guys brought in after that. Anyway, it was that insecure, possessive attitude, plus a bunch of other stuff that led to our divorce.
But now that was all ancient history. Now there was Cindy, returning with her clinking glass of ice water. I smiled at her as she neared the bed again. She smiled back, recognizing the love my eyes betrayed. She snuggled against me before using her cold fingers to freeze the nipple she'd sucked earlier. She grinned at the little puckered nip and treated the other one to the same sweet torture.
My beer was nearly as icy as her water, though, so she groaned when I gave her the same treatment. I followed that with the warmth of my lips and tongue, plus little nibbles and she moaned.
"Want another round?" she asked huskily.
"That wasn't my intention, honey, but if you want to..." I stopped there. At 48, I still recovered fairly quickly, but, as I told her, that was not my intention.
"Oh, not yet, babe. I just like lying around naked with you. Also, I have some email that needs replies."
"Oh. Your boyfriends?" I joked, knowing she didn't have any, just as I didn't have other women.
"Nah. My sisters both sent messages about the reunion. I don't really want to go, but they'd get all pissy if I didn't." Her family has a tradition of getting together on the weekend closest to the summer solstice. Her dad explained to me that doing that avoided all the 4th of July crowds and traffic. I'd gone with her to the last two.
"Well, Darlene is fine, but Billie treats you like crap. I wouldn't 'honor' her with a separate reply. She couldn't even be bothered to come to our wedding. She'd rather go sailing with her rich friends," I said. I'd spent enough time with her by then that I knew what she was.
"Oh, she's always been a bitch. When she was little, she would swear that Mom and Dad had kidnapped her from her 'real' family."
"That's what I mean. She thinks she's hot stuff and nobody else measures up to her. Maybe that's why she's divorced two guys. Or, they divorced her. She reminds me of my first wife."
"But she's still my sister. We're stuck with her for good. I think she's also having a problem finding her next victim...um... I mean boyfriend. At 40, the guys she wants don't have any interest in her. Among her circle of friends, her reputation is well known. She's getting frustrated."
"Good. Maybe she'll enjoy being treated as damaged goods, the way she treats everybody else."
"Oh, Bob, don't be nasty. She's STILL my sister."
"I know. Hey, why don't you tell her about the young guys who can't find girls their age and would jump at a fairly good looking 'cougar' to fuck?"
"Oh, so you admit you find her good looking?"
"I said, 'fairly', but Yeah, there is a family resemblance, in case you didn't know. You're attractive and so are your sisters -- and your mom, for that matter. Billie's face shows some wear and tear. On the other hand, Darlene can't seem to get over her own shyness, or whatever it is."
We rested another half hour before she went to answer her email and I went to my computer, too. I deleted a few spam messages and went to my saved pages. I have some sites I like that display nudes and nudists. Cindy doesn't mind me looking at pictures of naked people, or even porn, because she trusts me.
In fact, she said once that she likes it that I read erotic stories and look at pictures of naked women and sometimes porn shots of people fucking. "It keeps you interested in sex. I know you'll 'come' to me horny and hard, and you know I love sex!"
So, she sometimes peers over my shoulder to look at them with me. We talk about the pics and critique them. That afternoon, that's what she did when she brought me a fresh beer.
