Morning brought the ever faithful Jason to our room, except this time he was not here to serve breakfast but he was here to take Heather on a play date with him and his friends.
Jason was dressed in the long swim trunks that are so popular with young boys now and a tank top. Heather is tormenting the boy by strutting naked in front of him, jiggling her bare tits and bending over flashing him her gash.
"I could not decide which bathing suit to wear so I want you to pick one, Jason, dear," Heather instructs the poor boy pressing a bare breast against his arm.
Jason looks completely dumbfounded by his luck and he cannot take his eyes off the naked woman in front of him long enough to make a decision.
Watching Jason, I am struck by how much I take having a wife for granted. Watching him and his exuberance at being able to see a real live naked woman up close reminded me of how ordinary it had all become for me.
I thought back to when Heather and I were first married and about how excited I was to see her nude for the first time. The first time I saw her bare breasts, the first time I held one in my hand, the first time I sucked on her nipple. So much that thrilled me then that I now fail to appreciate.
"Do you like the pink?" Heather asks the poor child as she holds up a pink bikini top for his inspection. He is more interest in the pink of her nipples that show just below the top Heather is holding. "Or how about the white?"
Jason really is not concerned with picking a top; he is just hoping he will get lucky later. Today, he is going to get to fuck a girl for the first time and not just a girl but a real live woman. And if his friends are lucky they will get to fuck her, too.
Seeing Jason so giddy brought back memories of our wedding night; well actually four days after our wedding, when my cock finally penetrated the protective barrier and entered Heather for the first time. I remember the wonderful feeling of her velvety soft interior enveloping my rigid pole. Thinking about it now sends a shiver up my spine and my causes my hard cock to pulse.
How many times since then had I pleasured myself inside of Heather's pussy? Hundreds, thousands of time, who knows? It had all become so routine. Once maybe twice a week, roll over on top of Heather insert penis, thrust, thrust, thrust and then shoot my load. It became as common place as shampooing; rinse, soap and repeat. Never once thinking about how amazing what I was doing really was.
Jason knows though or he is about to find out.
"I like this one," Jason announces.
Jason has picked a favorite of mine. What little there is of it, it is a white unlined crocheted bikini. The two cups are small, barely covering Heather's nipples with strings used to tie it behind her neck and back. The bottom is a single triangle covering her crotch with a string running around her hips and another string running up her butt crack. Effectively, from the back, she appears to be naked.
The boy's eyes are on Heather; everything he says and does is focused on pleasing her. It seems unthinkable that this boy, a mere child, focuses on my woman more than I do.
"What do you think?" Heather asks; standing provocatively.
The boy stares lasciviously at Heather as she slowly twirls around displaying herself for Jason's lustful looks.
"Fantastic!" is all Jason says.
"Good" Heather answers before she reaches into the closet and pulls out a beach cover, a decent one this time at least, and puts it on. She is, no doubt, planning a grand unveiling; something to keep the other boys in suspense until Heather is ready to be unwrapped.
Heather comes over to me to kiss me goodbye. A part of me does not want her to go; a part of me wants her to stay here with me. I know that it is not to be; I know that I am powerless to stop what is going to happen. I feel a lot like I am throwing a beautiful piece of meat to a pack of hungry dogs.
Heather stops at the door and give Jason a hard passionate kiss, a prelude of things to come and waves a final goodbye.
"Bye Mr. J and thanks for letting me have your wife," an ecstatic Jason crows triumphantly to me as he leaves closing the door behind him.
Once again Heather is gone and I am alone to my fantasies.
In class, I seldom look Jeannie in the face; instead my gaze is constantly drawn down to the white canvas shoes and the blue logo in back. One look and I am instantly hard as I recall the splendid torment she is able to inflict with them.
Jeannie catches me staring at her shoes and smiles when I look up at her. She knows what I am thinking.
I develop a plan. Heather most likely will not be back until later in the evening so maybe if I ask Jeannie?
At lunch I catch Jeannie alone and I ask, "Jeannie, I seem to be having a problem and I was hoping you could help after class with it."
Jeannie knows exactly what I want. She smiles but does not answer; instead she slides her fingers into the waistband of my underwear. Her well manicured nails scrap along the length of my erection in a most tantalizing way.
I suck in my breath and shiver as her nails scratch their way to my scrotum and its enclosed balls. Once she reaches her target, her fingers fan out and engulfs me before she turns the tips of her fingers inward and drives the sharpened points into my tender sack.
Jeannie smiles devilishly and says, "I am sure I can help you with your little problem."
Copious amounts of precum seep from the tip of my penis; coating Jeannie's arm where my penis makes contact. It leaves a wet streak along her arm as she removes her hand from my pant's front.
She holds out her arm without saying a thing. I know from reading the internet stories what is expected of me. Kneeling at my tormentor's feet just the way she has taught me, I use my tongue to clean Jeannie's arm of my juices.
The taste is salty and tangy and mixes with the scent of Jeannie's perfumed skin. It is a heady mixture that overloads my brain from the intensity of my sensory perception.
When Jeannie is satisfied, she lightly touches my face with her hand and smiles down at me gently. I bend over and kiss each of Jeannie's canvas shoe clad feet and then she leaves me without saying a word.
The rest of the afternoon is filled with information and moves by slowly. The whole time I watch Jeannie's feet and those damned white canvas shoes as she roams around the room. The blue label on the back with those silly three letters almost seems to be taunting me.
