My wife Nancy Jean and I have been married just over seven years. Seven good years. We both had decent jobs, made good money, a horde of friends and middle class suburban lifestyle.
Nothing great, nothing extraordinary.
I suspect we were a fairly normal couple in most respects, even in the sex department. It surely wasn't as active as when we were dating, but we still managed lovemaking sessions a reasonable three times a week or so.
Nancy Jean has always been an active lovemaker. She would take the initiative from time to time, getting me to do what she turned her on best. Other times she'd be more submissive, and I would be the boss. Either way, we seemed to work well in the bedroom together. Maybe not frequent enough for me, but adventurous and satisfying when we did connect.
I learned early on that oral sex was an integral part of Nancy Jean's lovemaking wishes. She taught me to go down on her the way she liked; how she wanted to be taken to the highest degree of satisfaction. She had creamy white thighs, a trimmed bush, and active backside. By that I mean she would throw her hips at my face as she enjoyed my mouth. And on her part, she gave the best head I had ever had, bar none. She loved sucking my cock, and knew more tricks than the porn stars we'd see in blue movies.
Nancy Jean and I attended high school together, but I moved away the summer before my senior year. My wife and I didn't date back then. She was older, having been held back a year in middle school because of illness. I knew her as a pretty girl who told me jokes in biology lab, one who loved to spend time in the library studying rather than daydreaming about boys. At least that is what I always thought.
As luck would have it, I ran into Nancy Jean by accident at State University. I had transferred there from a local community college, while she had attended since graduation from high school. We literally bumped into each other at the student union. After overcoming our surprise of seeing each other, we spent several long hours catching up over dinner.
After a few dates we became inseparable. It was in my car, overlooking Tinicum Lake late one Saturday night, that pure and demure Nancy and I first made love to each other. There was no intercourse that night, but I did bring her to orgasm with my mouth and she reciprocated with every boy's fantasy.
"I'm old fashioned, I guess, but I want to save that for my wedding night," said Nancy one night after I asked for the one millionth time to climb between her creamy thighs and insert my hard cock into her pussy.
Heck, I wasn't complaining. Her blowjobs were superb, and I never went back to the dorm horny. It was in my dorm room one Tuesday night, with my roommate down the hall, that Nancy pulled her head off my dick and uttered the four wonderful words I will never tire of hearing. She looked at me, smiled, and told me to do one little thing: "Cum on my face".
Seconds later, I did, giving her a pearly necklace which she proudly wore for the next few minutes.
If I hadn't been in love before, I surely was then. And on numerous occasions over the next 18 months I shot my hot sauce onto her face, with Nancy Jean savoring the creamy loads like fine wine.
We had intercourse for the first time on our wedding night, and for the next several months the missionary position became our favored way of having sex. Later we experimented with different locations and positions, like all couples do. After a while we began varying the way we orgasmed between intercourse and good, old fashioned, oral sex. And when she took me orally, invariably I climaxed on her face.
Not once did I have a reason to complain.
Which brings me to the night of our 10-year high school reunion. It was a festive evening at the Embassy Suites near the airport, complete with everyone telling those tall tales which abound at these get-togethers. This one was now a vice president of this or that, another had her own company, while still another was a professional athlete.
We were late getting to the festivities, mostly because I begged for and received a fantastic toe curling blowjob in our hotel room before heading downstairs. That meant Nancy Jean had to head back to the bathroom to rework her makeup, straighten up her pretty light blue chiffon dress, and brush her brunette hair to perfection. It was worth the wait. We were doing Tequila shots while she made herself presentable, and had a bright buzz when we hit the elevator.
Nancy Jean and I cruised arm in arm around the banquet room, talked to some old friends, and joked with others we hardly remembered. Some we couldn't recognize, while others looked as if they stepped from high school into the hotel. Throughout the evening I sensed men's eyes on my wife, and from time to time snickers, but I chalked it off to remembrances of embarrassing moments which every has of their high school years.
We continued our belts or libations, danced a few slow numbers, and drank some more. Soon the buzz became a blitz for my little wife. I always knew when the booze was hitting her because she would insist on standing, and the resultant swaying gave away her inebriation. We danced a few slow songs together, and from time to time guys would cut in and I gave way and would watch them dance.
Every once in a while I'd see a hand slid down a little too far, but Nancy Jean would gracefully tug it up onto her back and smile.
Midway through the night my evening, and my marriage, suffered a serious---pardon the expression---blow.
I was answering nature's call, sitting in a stall in the men's room, when several guys entered. Obviously on the down side of several dozen cocktails, they laughed at each other's jokes while doing their business. When their conversation turned to their high school days, I received the shock of my life.
"Did you see Nancy Jean Cochrane? She still looks as hot as ever," slurred one. "She looks great, just like the old days in that dress."
I smiled with pride at the mention of my wife's maiden name. But that smile was short lived.
Another replied, "You bet, she always had a great ass!"
"No kidding," said a third man. "But I'll bet her mouth is still her best asset."
"Oh, you know it," said the first man. "Nobody gave a blow job like Nancy Jean."
"Remember our names for her?" asked one. "Naughty Nancy for one."
