The den was bathed in the sexy glow of a half-dozen candles as I came home from work that Friday night. I was tired from a long work day, but I was also keyed up about what I thought the night might bring.
I saw the letter on the kitchen table propped up against a long-stemmed vase that held a single red rose, and I smiled broadly. Roses were our flower, the ones we'd used in the pattern for our wedding china. That right there told me a lot, told me that Darlene was feeling romantic.
I opened the letter as I walked back into the kitchen to fetch a soda.
"Dearest Love," it read on the outside.
"Dan, my love," she began in her fluid hand. "Have a seat in the den, pull off your shoes and relax. The doctor gave me the go-ahead to resume sex, and I want you to enjoy a special night of love. Debbie's spending the night with her friend, and we have the house to ourselves. So, are you ready to enjoy your new pussy?"
I chuckled as I saw the big smiley-face she'd drawn next to that comment. You bet I was. It had been more than two months since we'd had sex, and while I'd been able to glean some relief from masturbation, it wasn't the same.
I took my soda back to the den, pulled off my shoes and socks, then sat back to await my wife's arrival from the bedroom, where she'd been holed up since I'd gotten home.
I had no more propped my feet up on the coffee table when I heard the bedroom door open and close from the back of the house, and then she was framed in the entrance to the den.
She looked... Well, let me just say that in that moment, I felt such a swelling of love - and lust - that I almost couldn't stand it.
A year has come and gone since I last reported on the state of my marriage. After 23 years of marriage, and two wonderful children, Darlene and I had been drifting apart when things came to a boil the day Hurricane Katrina roared through the area in South Mississippi where we live.
I won't go into the details, but I showed my ass that morning, and it was the straw that almost broke the camel's back for our relationship.
In the difficult weeks that followed, Darlene had gotten all of her frustrations and fears out into the open, and I had begun to make the commitment to change my attitude toward her, and toward the world in general.
Just dealing with all the things that were involved in getting back on our feet after the storm brought us together, and after things settled back into a somewhat normal routine, I wanted to work hard on maintaining that sense of purpose I'd had in the weeks after the storm.
I worked on curbing my quick temper, worked on not taking out my frustrations by making belittling remarks in anger, worked on showing Darlene just how much I truly do love her.
I'd be lying if I said I magically became perfect.
I still have my moments when I get frustrated with petty things and have to blow off some steam, but I've worked hard not to blow it off in the direction of the ones I love. I still sometimes get down about the stresses of life at home and in the workplace, but I've tried to not let those stresses get to me the way they did before.
It wasn't always easy, but Darlene was patient with me, and I learned a new way to live my life.
Thus, little by little, over the course of the year, Darlene again became the woman I fell in love with, and I became the man she once doted on, with the result that our love life began to pick up.
It wasn't just that sex between us increased. Actually, the frequency really didn't pick up, but the intensity did. More than that, we again began to show the real signs of affection, things that had faded from our marriage.
I realized that as much as the sex, it was those little things I'd been missing: the affectionate hugs for no reason, the warm clasp of her hand in mine, the soft kisses when I came home, the spoken endearments between us, the subconscious snuggles when I crawled in bed.
Those are the things that truly make a loving marriage, not necessarily how many times you can fuck.
Nevertheless, fucking had been very much on my mind in the previous weeks, because we'd been in a period of enforced celibacy.
Toward the middle of October, Darlene had made a decision to have a hysterectomy. Her periods had been highly irregular for the previous few years, and she'd been going through a weird form of menopause. She had just turned 50, and she felt like the time was right.
There were also some other issues dealing with her female plumbing that she wanted to have taken care of, she had plenty of sick leave accumulated from her work, and our insurance would pay for the bulk of it, so we saw no reason not to have it done.
We knew she'd be facing about a two-month recovery period, during which time sex was out of the question, so we had hoped to get some last-minute fucking in before she went in for the surgery.
But it was not to be.
About a week before Thanksgiving, a dear old friend of our family passed away suddenly, so we were caught up in that process. Then Darlene had to work through the holiday, and I also had to work that weekend, so by the time the Sunday night before the she was to go into the hospital came around, we just didn't have the energy. I just held her as she relayed her justifiable fears of anesthesia.
During the recovery time, Darlene kept joking about how I was going to get some new pussy, and whether I could handle it.
The way the surgeon did the procedure, he went in through the vagina, then when he was finished he sewed everything up so that she would be considerably tighter than she had been.
I was eager to experience a tight cunt, but I was also a little concerned about hurting her, which is one reason why I didn't push it about the celibacy. I don't like to brag about it, but my cock is a bit larger than average, and before I met Darlene I was fairly self-conscious about it.
For me, sex with Darlene has always been about giving pleasure as much as receiving it, and I didn't want there to be any chance that our first coupling would be anything other than supremely pleasurable for both of us.
So there she was, backlit by the light from the hallway that led to our den, clad in the sexy negligee I'd gotten her for Christmas just a few weeks earlier. It was red and translucent, showing off her assets in a most enticing way.
Most gash hounds probably wouldn't give her a second look, but Darlene at age 50 is still beautiful to me, and I have never been anything less than proud to have her on my arm in public. And I have rarely seen her looking more beautiful than she was that night.
Her long hair flowed down her back with the color of burnished copper, a color she wears just for me. Her pendulous breasts swayed gently as she strutted toward where I was seated, the prominent areolas visible through the sheer material of her negligee. Her hazel eyes sparkled with barely-restrained fire, and her ruby lips were curled slightly in a soft, seductive smile.
She had taken great care with her makeup, laying it on just enough to amplify her beauty without looking tawdry. The negligee fell to her hips, dimming the gentle swell of her belly and hiding the thong panties that just barely covered her sex.
"You're beautiful," I whispered as she sat on the sofa next to me.
"You're full of it," she answered with a sardonic grin. "And you're also horny."
"I am that," I said softly as I gathered my bride in my arms and we kissed, soft and slow.
Darlene reached between my legs and squeezed my cock, which was already throbbing with need. In turn, I slid my hands over her tits and gently fondled the dangling orbs.
I freed them from their confines, pulling them out of the cups of the negligee, then bent over to capture each nipple with my mouth. I gently nipped and tugged on the sensitive tips, and was gratified at the low growl of arousal that sprang from her mouth.
My cock was bent in a painful position in the confines of my jeans, but Darlene soon rectified that problem by unbuttoning my pants and sliding my cock through the hole in my boxers.
"Seems vaguely familiar," she teased as she lightly stroked my throbbing dick.
After a minute or two of soft fondling and hard kissing, Darlene abruptly pulled away and got down on her knees in front of me. She pulled my pants off, then followed with my boxers, while I pulled off my T-shirt, leaving me naked on the couch.
My cock bounced off my chest, leaving little trails of pre-cum that flowed from the tip. Darlene put her face real close to my cock, as if she was inhaling my essence. Her hands cupped my balls as she languidly flicked out her tongue and gently swiped it up the underside of my shaft.
I knew I was in for a treat now, because Darlene really doesn't like giving head all that much. But she was staring at my cock lustfully as she licked up and down the shaft before sliding her tongue over the crown and slowly slid my cock past her lips.
"Oh, baby, that feels sooooo good," I groaned.
