Jealousy and suspicion are terrible diseases and I fervently hope that I am now cured. I know when the cure happened. I can tell you the exact date and even the time of day when I was cured. I remember it vividly.
Telling my story makes me uncomfortable because it brings up memories I would rather leave buried. I don't like to hold up the faults in my character for everyone to see. But I also feel that I have an obligation to relate the happenings of that fateful day in the hope that some fellow sufferers, who like me, are afflicted with these diseases, can learn from my experience.
My wife and I had met on a beach in the Caribbean ten years ago during spring break. We spent a few pleasant days together before she had to return to Northwestern to finish her last year of college.
I flew back to Phoenix and started writing my dissertation.
She had given me her address where she stayed and I wrote her an old fashioned letter that I had to mail in an old fashioned envelope since I had failed to get her e-mail address. I had an e-mail from her two days later. After a few chats on the Internet our relationship became more serious and we chatted every evening. Neither of us had much time, so our chats had to be kept short.
What came next was inevitable. We became man and wife two days after I landed my job with Biogen Research. Since I had to start my job immediately we spent our honeymoon at home, mostly on our Queen sized bed, acting like rabbits after a hunger strike. I was afraid that our neighbors might complain about the shrieks and loud moans, the AAHHHs and the MY GODs that reverberated around our walls. My wife is very vocal.
I couldn't get enough of her. She is such a vivacious, happy bundle of energy. She is always bathed in a cloud of sensuousness, a cloud that says 'here I am and I promise delights'. She always is flirty in the presence of a male of any size or age, although she herself is not aware of that, it is just part of her nature. Her parents had named her after a Greek Goddess, Athena. They couldn't have been more right.
I love to listen to her, no matter what she is talking about. Her voice is fairly low for a slim, petite girl, and it has a certain sexy huskiness to it that causes most males to notice their hormones going on alert. Surprisingly, she even manages to be liked by the majority of the tender sex we meet, although there are a few who want no part of her. I think that is just mostly envy.
Before we married we did have many discussions about the HOWs in our marriage. She made it quite clear that she believed in having rules, almost laws as it turned out. But they were benign and they made sense to me. I was just not used to having them presented as forcefully by a female as she did. I come from a world where men and women were called equal, except that men were more equal than women. I have changed, though.
I should give you an example or two of what I am talking about.
"In my house dirty clothes and socks belong into the hamper, not discarded on the floor;" she explained, "and all lights should be switched off if the room is not used. No use throwing away money."
I had no problem with these or the others she presented. As I said, I was just not used to the confident way of hers.
"There is one item about which I have especially strong feelings," she stated. "We are going to have our meals together, not separate, even if we might feel hurried. Meals should be a relaxing, pleasant time, and therefore I will set the table properly, sometimes maybe with a candle in the middle for dinner. I love you and I want as much time with you as possible. We have only one lifetime together and I want to make every moment count." I agreed with her wholeheartedly.
As time went on I grew more and more fond of her rule of getting up a few minutes earlier in the morning to have a leisurely breakfast together instead of wolfing it down my breakfast and running off with just a peck on the cheek.
About a month ago, on a Saturday, I surprised her in the kitchen in the morning while she was setting the table for breakfast. Athena had spread a new tablecloth I had not seen before. Its color was a cross of dark red and wine and contrasted nicely with the white carnations in their black on black vase.
The moment she finished her last minute table inspection I stepped behind her. I snaked my arms around her waist and brought my hands up to cup her tits. Athena needs no bra, does not like a bra and will not wear one. I share her dislike for bras, and not just on Athena.
I could feel her shiver slightly when my fingernails lightly scratched her nipples, teasing the little buds through the thin material of her blouse. I knew how it felt; she had done it to me more than once. She always enjoys my hands on her tits. I prefer the small ones over the large variety, as long as they are firm and sensitive. I judge Athena's to be a small B cup, but are they ever sensitive. She seems to be blessed with a double dose of nerve endings. I continued to knead them the way she likes it, alternating between just lightly, then more forcefully, and then softly again. After I released her tits, I gave my fingers free reign again to roam. They decided to run around her nipples in small circles. Her nipples were fully erect by now and small noises of pleasure came from between Athena's lips. She had clenched her teeth but she still made strange sounding noises.
My right hand slid unhurriedly down her belly to land on the spot where I thought her clit was. The sounds changed, which told me that I had arrived at the right location. I pressed down on it, and then relaxed the pressure, repeating my maneuvers until I judged it time to do away with what was between my hand and my target.
I moved the straps of her dress off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. I did not have to tell her to spread her legs a little; she did it for me unconsciously. My middle finger soon found the entrance and pressed forward. She was well lubricated by now and after a short time I added another finger. She was now breathing heavy and fast. Her moans were loud enough to signal her pleasure to the world.
It was time to have breakfast, I was getting hungry. When I turned her to face me her arms at once moved behind my neck and my head was pulled down to make our lips meet. Her tongue snaked out to demand entrance and probed the inside of my mouth. It was a hot, wet, fiery wake-up kiss. When we finally broke I too was breathing hard.
Before she could do anything else to me I had picked her up and sat her on the edge of the table. My left hand moved the flowers out of the way while my right hand pushed her body down to lie on the table. Placing my hands behind her knees I lifted them up and apart to give me more access to my target. Her pussy was now just where I wanted it, at the edge of the table.
I remembered Athena once telling me that it is poor manners to eat one's meal standing up. So I pulled over a chair and sat down in front of my inviting low calorie breakfast. I spread her legs a bit farther to give me even better access. then lowered my head. But instead of saying a prayer I fastened my lips on her pussy, allowing my tongue to wiggle about inside her. That brought forth he first shrieks of the day.
It also brought forth the first real flow of her sweet pussy juices for me to lap up. Hers are as sweet as ambrosia and I can never get enough of her elixir. But it was time to move north a little and let my tongue swipe over that little button of hers, much to her delight. The little shrieks were now replaced with hoarse, guttural AAHHHs. I let her enjoy my tongue for a few minutes while it visited and probed all over.
Now it was me who had to take a few deep breaths to get my breasting back to normal. It was then that I noticed my prick calling for equal time. I felt a bit cramped anyway after bowing low for so long. At any rate, I had had my breakfast, it was time to stand. As I stood up I noticed that my prick was standing up also and I honored his request for equal time. He marched forward and entered her without hesitation.
Athena made some gurgling sounds before starting with more forceful AAAHHHs. I pulled back some and then moved in again. We kept playing that game, speeding up after each stroke, till I was afraid that the table might collapse under her, it was shaking so hard. But it was Athena who collapsed with wails and flailing arms, first stiffening, then arching her back, while giving her best imitation of several air raid sirens going full blast.
The whole girl then went limp like a discarded rag doll. When she finally sat up she starred at me for a few moment until her eyes could focus properly again.
"You ate breakfast without me," she chided me. "Well, what's good for the gander is also good for the goose. She was off the table in a flash and a moment later was on her knees with my prick firmly imprisoned in her mouth. She had no time for niceties this morning and went right to work to convince me to serve her the bleakest to which she was entitled. I came with a vengeance, making my thigh muscles tighten almost painfully. My knees went soft and I felt my body stiffening. She wanted every drop and kept milking me till I had to stop her.
Athena took her shower first and then went downstairs to put the finishing touches on the more conventional breakfast. I had just returned to our bedroom after my shower when the phone rang. I picked up the receiver and brushed my hair out of my face. It seemed that my wife and I had picked up the phone at exactly the same time.
"Is the line clear?" I heard a male voice asking Athena.
