I know my wife well. Even though she had found a new lover in her best girl friend, I knew she would not keep it a secret for long. I was sure she enjoyed keeping her new relationship to herself, but I never imagined why.
It had only been a few days since I witnessed them together in our living room. Since then, the images of my wife and her friend G had played over and over in my mind. The gentle way they touched. The passionate way they kissed. The sighs and moans that escaped G's mouth as my wife pushed her tongue deep into her, bringing her to the heights of orgasm. Yes, I remembered it all. In fact, I'm quite certain that's what I was dreaming of when I woke up to a soft kiss from my wife.
My wife and G had been out late again, and I had taken advantage of the time to revert to watching some mindless television; a habit I had almost broken since our daughter was born nearly four years earlier. I had fallen asleep on the sofa and I had no clue how much time had passed. As my vision came into focus, I could see my wife silhouetted against the flashing eclectic colors of the television still on behind her. She had just kissed me awake. That was nice. She was facing me and though I could not see her eyes clearly, it was obvious she was staring into mine. I noticed then that her hand was under my shirt and rubbing my chest. It slowly dawned on me that she was in an aroused mood; no doubt the effect of spending another evening with G. As her hand slid down my abdomen, I thought I could see her smile as she whispered lovingly to me, "Hey, sleepy-head."
She never slowed her hand's progress until it reached my testicles. Then, slowly, she began to scratch. "Relax sweetheart," she whispered again as she rotated and turned her attention to my boxers. I reached up and caressed her silky hair as she slid my underwear down my legs. Then I took her advice and relaxed. I let my eyes fall shut once more and focused on the amazing feeling of her fingernails on my body. There were times she would scratch me this way half-heartedly, and there were times she would devote all of her attention and efforts to the act. This was one of those wonderful moments when her only goal seemed to be my pleasure.
As the fingertips from her left hand scratched me, she took hold of my cock in her right hand to position it out of the way. Her firm grasp again drew my attention to her excited condition; perhaps a by-product of her evening with G. There was no doubt that my wife usually ended her time with G in an elevated state of sexual arousal, but since taking her as a lover, my wife's appetite had been insatiable. As her hand began to squeeze and stroke me, I knew tonight would be no different.
It took very little time for me to feel completely awakened by my wife's manipulations, but if there was any uncertainty in my mind about whether I would find the energy to participate, that passed when I sensed her warm breath on my belly. My eyes were already rolling from the pleasure her fingernails were bringing me, but the realization that her face was that close to me sent new waves of sensations through my body. My hips, acting as if of their own mind, raised slightly to meet her advances. My hand found its way from her hair to under her shirt and the warm skin of her lower back. I pressed into her muscles performing a light massage. She sighed, but never broke the rhythm of her own massage. As my hips lifted for a second time, she understood what I needed. I felt her hair fall onto my thighs as she lowered her head again to me. Then I felt the soft, warm touch of her lips as they found the head of my now engorged cock. As her tongue pressed firmly against the underside of my cock head, I twitched repeatedly in the grasp of her lips. I sensed her smiling as her moves became increasingly playful; she pressed her tongue into me again to feel me jerk in her wet mouth, gripping me gently with her teeth, she parted her lips to draw in a breath of cold air across my saliva-covered cock. Then all at once, as if rewarding me for some unknown good deed I had performed, her mouth engulfed as much of my cock as it could take. I let out a moan of extreme approval as my whole body tensed with pleasure from the moment. Then, as I relaxed, she whispered affectionately, "Did you like that?"
"Did I like that?" I thought. What kind of a question was that? In fact, it was no question at all. My wife wasn't asking me anything, she was telling me. She was making a statement unmistakably clear. She was confessing her affair with G and explaining to me why she had delayed the revelation for so long, all in one simple statement. Did I like it when her hand was stroking me? Did I like it when her tongue was licking me? Or did I like the revelation that she could not have possibly whispered her question to me while my aching cock was still buried deep inside her mouth?
