Idioms and phrases: "He who hesitates is lost"
Definition: One who cannot come to a decision will miss the opportunity. Although the idea is much older, one possible source for the English idiom is a misquotation from Joseph Addison's play Cato (1712): "The woman that deliberates is lost.
1.
My wife, Linda, had that look. The fire in her eyes was way beyond seductive. She wanted to get fucked. I wasn't going to deny her. I was just surprised by how hot she was now. At the orientation earlier that afternoon, she had hesitated. The other couples would be gathering at the estate for what would have been our first swinger's party, while we were back in our hotel room trying to decide what to do with the weekend.
Linda had beautiful legs. Competitive rowing in college had toned her muscles. Only a few men had felt the power in those legs squeeze around them when a cock filled her pussy. As a conservative professional, she spent most of her life in skirts keeping her knees pressed together. Now she lay on her back with her bare legs spread wide and two fingers vigorously frigging her clit. I didn't hesitate to give her what she wanted.
I jerked my pants down around my ankles without taking time to kick off my shoes. Then I stumbled to the bed and fell between her legs. My cock pierced deep into her pussy on the first thrust without meeting resistance. Linda grunted with the sudden but welcomed intrusion and squeezed her wet sleeve tightly around my shaft. A wave of intense sensations rushed up my spine and burst in the pleasure centers of my brain.
I pushed myself up to look in her face as she locked her ankles behind my back. Linda's face was contorted with lust. She did not want a tender romance with a lifelong partner. She wanted a good fucking by a stud. She grabbed my face in her hands and thrust her tongue in my mouth as she bucked her wet pussy up onto my cock.
It usually takes awhile for my wife to get warmed up to sex. We enjoy reading erotic stories or sharing a Jacuzzi together to get in the mood. Linda likes the firm but gentle touch of a strong hand on her bare thigh, while I enjoy the wetness of her tongue sliding up the length of my shaft. We typically take it slow at first.
Once Linda gets hot, she's a different woman. The tender lover who seduces me becomes a wild animal in bed. I mean a really wild animal. She growls and moans. She thrashes and bucks. I like it that way. She's really sexy with her face all flushed and contorted on her way to the big one.
I do have one little quibble. My wife makes a lot of noise but she rarely says any words. She seldom even opens her eyes in the final heat of making love. I sometimes wish she wasn't so demure about saying those tender little words of encouragement like: "Yes, yes!", "Oh God!" and "Harder!" I can barely remember the last time Linda said, "Fuck me!" So I was really surprised when she spoke. I was even more surprised by her choice of words.
"Oh yes, Raman! Fuck me!"
Her eyes popped open when she realized what she'd said. My name wasn't Raman. There was apprehension in her face, but her powerful legs were still locked around my back. She continued to urge me on as I slammed into her with all my strength. Her breasts shuddered with each impact as her nipples bounced up and down her chest.
Linda's face contorted each time I bottomed out inside her, but the focus of her eyes never left my face. What did she see? Her husband of 17 years: a tall white male with glasses and skinny legs but a reasonably thick cock? Or Raman, the husband of a couple we just met at the orientation: a somewhat shorter and younger man with the crisp accent of a well educated Indian professional. I couldn't imagine him stretching her open with a 9" cock or lifting her up on his shaft and carrying her around the room while they fucked. He was just a guy like me, except that I had made love to my wife at least a couple thousand times while he had kissed her once politely on the cheek when we were introduced.
That's when I knew I had gotten lucky. I had won the argument. Linda had just conceded that she wanted what I wanted for her. I had spent years trying to convince her that swinging was not about looking for someone better. She did not have to compete for my affection with someone who was younger or looked more like the models in a magazine. Nothing would change the fact that we loved each other and our lives were permanently intertwined. A new experience would be exciting but it would not replace what we already had. This was going to be an exciting new experience. That it was a very naughty experience we would hide from our friends and families only made it more exciting.
Raman and I were a fair trade, and so were our wives. That was the beauty of it. I felt something akin to pride as I imagined the two of them together. Raman would enjoy fucking my wife. Linda was a really good lover when she let loose. He would be especially excited because she was all new to him. He had never felt her large breasts bouncing in front of him as she squatted on his pole. The bitter sweet juices of her pussy would taste intriguing on his tongue. No woman would thrash as wildly as my wife when he drove into her and dumped his seed.
Then I stopped thinking of them. They would take care of each other. I imagined his wife, Amiya, stepping out of the crumpled dress at her feet and walking seductively toward me. I could almost feel her tongue as she curled up beside me on the couch and leaned in for a kiss. Her breasts were much smaller than my wife's but perfectly proportioned to her petite frame. My mind flashed through a series of positions each more lewd than the last until the moment just before orgasm when she was screaming for me to fuck her harder as I dug my fingers into her ass cheeks and rammed my cock into her sopping pussy.
I continued to look down into my wife's face as we made love, but I imagined Amiya's naked body spread out beneath me.