Boys and Their Toys

Perhaps there is some reality in this story about a wife's bi-sexuality. Apart from a few brief mentions, there are no descriptions of any lesbian behaviour.

Boys and Their Toys.

Ever since our kids left home for university this was the first time, Vivian my wife had said anything about it. It was soon after I had recovered from what I thought had been a very nice evening of making love. I'd started by romancing her body with my lips and my tongue, especially her breasts and their prominent nipples with occasional forays into her neck, elbows and other erogenous zones before moving to her feet, thighs and especially the backs of her knees. Then I concentrated wholeheartedly on her pussy and especially her very responsive clitoris.

My wife's wonderful body had responded beautifully, twisting and shuddering as expected, accompanied by her cries of orgasmic bliss. All this sexual intimacy had given me the required erection to answer her cries of, 'fuck me, fuck me.' Without any hesitation, fuck her I did, right through one orgasm and a second when I ejaculated my spunk deep and repeatedly into her grasping, eager cunt.

I was lying back after a recuperative period of cuddling and kissing, and feeling quite pleased with myself, when my wife turned and looked at me for several moments, almost like she was undecided about what to say or how to say it. She reached across and stroked my cheek with such tenderness. Then she told me something astonishing.

"Darling, I know how much you love me. It's been absolutely wonderful how you have been trying for the last few months to keep me satisfied. I also know why you're trying so hard. But, Darling you're not young anymore and we both know it's harder for men than it is for women to achieve what they did when they were in their twenties."

For a few moments, we just looked at each other. My wife knew me too well and I had no immediate answer to her implied inference of my lack of stamina and inability to achieve multiple erections.

Then Vivian kissed me, making my toes curl and wish even more that I could get that second erection much sooner without my wife having to work her mouth on my cock for up to fifteen minutes.

"I love you very much, Richard and I am going to find a way to help us achieve your expectations?"

"My expectations," I repeated as I got my head around what Vivian was telling me, at least I thought I had. "I could take more of those little blue pills," I told her. "Up to four at a time," I added, grinning stupidly.

"You took four last time," she told me and wiped the grin off my face. How did she know that?

"Don't you worry, Darling? I'll think of something," she told me and started working on my cock.

As Vivian sucked and stroked and licked and gobbled I lay back and wondered what my wife was going to do about my expectations, as she called my desire to keep her sexually satisfied.

In this day and age when the marriages of so many couples our ages ended in divorce, I considered myself very lucky that after twenty-four years I was still married to a very beautiful woman. I'd seen what happened to other husbands with beautiful wives when predatory men set their eyes upon them. I heard all the reasons used by these women as excuses for their betrayal when the husbands found out and engaged me as their divorce solicitor.

I had been a solicitor in the town where we lived for over twenty years. My partner was Richard Henning and our secretary was Mrs Wendy Masters, a lovely, incredible efficient lady in her fifties who had never re-married after her husband was killed in a car accident twelve years ago. She joined our office about a year later.

As always, she tapped on my door and waited for my acknowledgement before entering. "Mr Soames, your eleven-thirty appointment is here. Are you ready to see him?"

I was never, Mathew always, Mr Soames and it was always my appointment, never the client's name. Both Richard and I had tried to get her to be less formal, but that was the way she liked it. Mrs Masters was far too valuable to lose, so that was how it was.

This morning I'd only seen one client, to discuss his will. I had been his solicitor almost from the day I hung up my sign. He had become the very successful owner of a local transport and storage company inherited when his father retired. After our business was concluded I took him out for lunch. Like many of my clients in the local community, our relationship went beyond purely business.

Vivian, my wife was forty-seven, a woman I loved deeply and considered to be even more beautiful after she had given me two wonderful children. Andrew started university last year and his younger sister Susan started this year. To say I was very proud of them would be the understatement of my life.

I knew our home life was going to change when we were on our own for the first time in over twenty years. At fifty with fifteen years to go before my retirement I had to continue working. Vivian was a senior buyer for a major fashion retailer and she also had to continue working.

Vivian and I had discussed what we should do when both our kids left home, just as we always discussed everything important to our family, and that was the decision we had agreed was the best for both of us.

We both continued with our leisure activities. I was in a local bowls club with one roll-up evening and usually an away match a week when I was selected. I'd always resisted the invitations I'd had to join the local golf club because I knew how many weekends it keep me away from the woman I loved.

Vivian had her Tuesday evening book club once a fortnight and her weekly pilates class. I particularly like the result of Vivian's Pilates class. Although she had put on some weight following childbirth it was all distributed in the right places, thanks I believe to her classes. At least every other Saturday I took my wife out to dinner and insisted on cooking dinner at least twice a week. My cooking was not quite as good as Vivian's but that wasn't the point.

Our work kept us busy during the day but I made a point of always being home when expected during the week and I thought we were settling into this new phase of our life quite nicely.

I knew how dangerous this time was for a marriage. More than one of my clients had lost theirs after the children left home for whatever reason. Their wives became vulnerable to outside influences and usually, the husbands were too complacent, or just had no idea about the vulnerability of their wives when they no longer had any responsibility for their children. 'I thought we had a good marriage,' was a recurring theme.

Perhaps I was being paranoid, but I had no intention of becoming the client of another divorce lawyer. Therefore, over the past three months after Susan left for university, I'd tried to revive the early days of our marriage. To some degree, I think I've been successful, though the virility of my youth has been somehow lacking. In comparison, my wife it seemed to me, had regained all her youthful sexuality.

It was then, as my pleasure increased that I realised this was the first time my wife had mentioned my diminishing virality and her increasing sexuality. Was I just an oversight on our part or had we both mistakenly considered it not important enough to discuss?

Finally, Vivian had my cock ready for penetration and kneeling astride me she slowly engulfed it into her wonderfully receptive cunt. As we embraced and kissed she started her now familiar dance of copulation. I contributed as much as I could, but from experience, I knew this was Vivian's show, her way of getting the most pleasure from an old man's cock.

That was how our life continued for the next three months. I occasionally spent an evening enjoying a few pints and a game of darts with friends and clients in a local pub and Vivian did the same with her work colleagues.

Then one Wednesday Vivian told me she had a friend she wanted me to meet. I thought I'd met all the women she worked with so naturally wondered who this new friend was.

"Her name is Celia," she told me. "I've invited her round on Friday evening for dinner. I hope you'll like her," she added, followed by one of her toe-curling kisses.

Why would my wife want me to like her, I wondered? "How long have you known her?" I asked.

'Oh, nearly three months," was all I got. "I'll tell you all about it after you've met her," she added, her look implying that was all the information I was going to get from her. You learn a lot about women's looks when you've been married to one for as long as I have.

Vivian was already cooking when I got home at my usual time on Friday evening. The table was laid for three and I immediately smelt that something good was cooking in the oven. After a very nice welcoming kiss, I was told to hurry up and change as Celia was expected in fifteen minutes.

I found Vivian in the kitchen. When I went to get a beer from the fridge as she looked at me and I could see how nervous she was. "Darling, please wait, Celia will be here any minute."

"Well, that was a premonition," I told her as the doorbell rang. "Shall I go?"

Obviously not, as Vivian kissed me on the cheek and rushed to the door. I opened the fridge and got a beer. Perhaps my wife had made me as nervous as she was. As I gulped a few mouthfuls I could hear an indistinct conversation. Because the kitchen didn't seem the right place to meet Vivian's new friend I put the bottle down and walked into the hall.

What I saw was astonishing. The two women were standing sidewise to me. While Vivian had her hands on her friend's waist, Celia had her arms almost around my wife's shoulders and they were standing close enough together to have been kissing. It was a show of intimacy that I had never seen before between my wife and another woman.

Without moving they immediately looked toward me. "Viv, Darling is that gorgeous man your husband?" declared the woman I assumed was Celia. Vivian turned toward me and I realised that the woman had called her, Viv. No one ever called my wife, Viv certainly not me, yet that was what this woman had called her with total familiarity.

"Mathew, Darling come here and meet my friend Celia."

As I approached the two women separated and when I reached them my wife put her arm around my waist and pulled me tight against her. Then as I turned to her she kissed me as though no one else was there. Breaking the kiss and leaving me totally bewildered, she introduced us.

"Celia, this is my wonderful husband Mathew." She didn't get to say anything else.

"Oh, my God. Viv, he's gorgeous," she gushed in a beautiful deep voice. Then she thrust her hand out and grabbed mine. "I'm Celia," she stated. "I've been dying to meet you."

"Oh, yes, it's nice to meet you too," I stuttered in bewildered shock. Then for a few seconds, we just stood in silence. I glanced from one to the other, not sure what would happen next.

"Darling, why don't you show Celia into the lounge and ask her what she would like to drink, while I see how the dinner is cooking."

"Yes, dear," I mumbled and found that Celia still had hold of my hand.

I looked at Vivian and got a lovely smile. "I won't be long, Darling so look after Celia for me and I'll have a Chardonnay."

I turned toward the lounge. "I'll have a Chardonnay as well, Mathew," Celia told me as she tightened her hold on my hand. "Viv has told me all about you, you know."

She has, has she. I'll have to ask her about that, I thought to myself as I poured two glasses of wine.

Celia was standing right beside me when I turned with her glass. As I handed it to her I realised what a stunningly beautiful woman she was. I put her in her mid-thirties, just a bit shorter than me. She had a light brown complexion with slight African features enhanced by her wavy auburn hair that I found quite appealing. While we were this close the gentleman in me prevented any further examination.

"Dinner will be another five minutes." I welcomed my wife's announcement and as she gave me the beer I'd left in the kitchen I exchange it for the glass of wine I'd poured for her. "Well, at last, we all meet," she stated. "How about a toast."

As we raised our glasses Celia stroked her hand over my arm and made the toast. "To an intimate friendship."

As we clinked glasses and I took a gulp of the beer, I looked at my wife. She smiled at me and gave me a very seductive wink. My bewilderment went up several notches as neither Celia's toast nor her hand still stroking my arm seemed to phase my wife one bit.

Then she leant toward me and kissed my cheek. "Dinner's ready, Darling. You escort Celia to her seat." Then she left me standing there with Celia now holding onto my arm.

"Well, this is very nice, Mathew, lead on and I'll just tag along."

The meal was up to my wife's usual high standard and the conversation started slowly as I asked how and when my wife and Celia met.

"We met at our hairdressers, Darling," my wife told me.

"Viv and I didn't stop talking the whole time, did we, Viv?" added Celia.

"Have you met each other often since then," I asked?

'Yes, dear, Celia and I have met up several times." The look that passed between them as Vivian said that convinced me that I was right to be concerned ever since Celia called my wife Viv.

"Mathew, Viv has told me you are a solicitor. Have you had any juicy cases recently?"

"All his cases are juicy, aren't they, Darling? Tell Celia about the cat."

I told them about the cat which caused a divorce and still made my wife laugh. With other stories I kept both of them amused for most of the meal.

While I was helping Vivian clear the table and we were in the kitchen alone I asked her. "What's going on between you too? You never let anyone call you Viv."

"Can't stop her. She's gorgeous, isn't she, Richard? You do like her, don't you, Darling?" The kiss she gave me with her arms around my neck prevented any immediate reply. "Now you go and keep Celia company," she told me immediately after the kiss ended.

As we waited for Vivian to bring in the dessert, I was pouring some more wine. When I had filled Celia's glass she took hold of my hand. "You haven't asked me what I do. Have you Richard?"

"Celia is in the entertainment business," my wife told me from the doorway.

Celia still held my hand as I turned to my wife. "We're only having cheese, crackers and coffee," she told us. "Can you help me bring it into the lounge, Darling?"

As I carried the tray into the lounge I was beginning to have some concern about my wife and that toast Celia had made earlier. Then I remembered something Vivian has told me a few months ago, something about my expectations and her working something out. My memory for detail and my legal mind could be a curse sometimes.

When we were all settled my wife and I were sitting beside each other on the settee and Celia was in the armchair opposite. Vivian put her arm around my neck and drew me close. "I know you want to know, so why don't you ask Celia what she does? Or would you like me to ask her to tell you? You'll never guess."

Oh, you think so, I told myself. "Celia, my wife tells me I'll never guess what you do but I think you're the editor for an erotic book publisher." I was quite pleased with that suggestion, though I have no idea where it came from.

Both of them giggled, and then my wife said. "Not quite right, Darling, but an interesting guess. Celia is a masseuse, she has her own studio."

For a moment I thought about that, and then Vivian whispered to me. "Darling, can you imagine what it would be like to have yourself massaged by Celia?"

That was the last thing I'd expected my wife to ask me and decided these girls were either having me on or my wife was setting me up for something. I leant closer to Vivian. "Is she any good," I asked in a stage whisper.

"Oh, yes, Darling she is very good," my wife replied in a whisper just as loud. Then she kissed me.

Eventually, my wife released me. "All right," I said a little breathlessly. "Enough of this nonsense. What do you really do, Celia?"

"No nonsense, Darling," Vivian answered. "Celia is here to help us achieve your expectations," she gently stroked my cheek. "You remember your expectations, that we talked about a little while ago?"

Oh, I remembered even though my head was totally befuddled. "What has Celia got to do with my expectations?" I asked my wife.

Vivian handed me my half-drunk whisky. "Drink up, Darling. Then I'll tell you."

Why did I feel like an idiot being led into a bed of thorns? None of this made any sense. How could another woman help with my desire to keep my wife satisfied? By the time I had emptied my glass Celia had sat beside me and then Vivian was refilling it.

"Now, Darling please don't interrupt," my wife told me and I nodded slowly. "When I said I would work something out, I hadn't a clue what to do. I'd already met Celia at my hairdresser's and decided to talk to her about it because I knew if I asked anyone at work it would quickly be all over the office."

Vivian stopped at that moment and smiled at me just as I felt another hand stroke the back of my neck.

"Relax, Darling," she whispered and kissed my cheek. "You just have to relax and let us tell you why Celia is the perfect answer to your problem."

Celia's hand on the back of my neck must have found a spot, a nerve or something that was doing just that, helping me relax. Well, I reasoned, she would know about them if she really was a masseuse.

"I asked Celia to have lunch with me and told her about my increased need for sex, your expectations and how you're not always able to satisfy me. Celia was very understanding and to cut a long story short a couple of days later I visited her studio and she gave me a very nice massage."

I looked from Vivian to Celia and back to my wife. "Is that it, Darling?" I stated. "You've had massages before when you spend a day in a beauty clinic."

"Not like the massages I give your wife, Mathew," Celia whispered into my ear, followed by a kiss on my cheek.

I looked at my wife, the thorns in my head were getting thicker and pricklier. "How many times have you been to Celia's studio?"

"Oh, several times, Darling. There were things I needed to be certain about before I brought her home to meet you."

By now both women were making their closeness to me feel very intimate, very intimate indeed. "Finish your whisky, Darling because I am going to help Celia give you one of her special massages."

My whisky slid down easily and was followed by my wife's tongue which slid into my mouth just as easily. It was a short but very intense kiss. "Don't worry, Darling, Celia has brought everything she needs."

"You are going to love my massage," Celia told me then kissed my cheek again before getting off the settee. I turned to watch her going toward the kitchen. It was the first time I had really seen her from behind for more than a few moments and realised that she was some woman.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" I heard my wife tell me.

"Yes," I replied, without turning away from her as she disappeared through the garage door. I don't think I have ever heard my wife call another woman beautiful before, and this was the second time she's called Celia beautiful. Plus, the fact my wife had never kissed me so often with another person present. It was all very worrying, especially as she hadn't made any comment about Celie practically climbing all over me.

Five minutes later and my wife led me into our bedroom. "Celia is going to use the second bedroom. Now get yourself undressed and into the shower."

Something about this whole Celia thing was really bugging me. I put my hands on Vivian's shoulders and held her at arm's length. "What is really going on with you and Celia?" I looked into her eyes. "How can another woman help me. Are you expecting me to have sex with her to take my mind off our problem?" I was getting a little too heated and Vivian tried to calm me down.