Les Hommes

"Imagination?"

"Yeah, and I said OK, even though I don't think imagination is my strong suit"

"Got you."

"Not my strong suit at all."

"Agreed."

"Wish it were but..."

"By the way, what do you believe is your strong suit, Roger?"

His eyebrows go up and he regards me skeptically. He pauses just a second more and says, "Oh, probably being a good husband who listens to his wife."

"Oooh. Got me with that one."

"That, and maybe explaining stuff like this to a doofus like you."

Being called a doofus by a world-class doofus like Roger was a new low for me. But I knew his insane stories were chipping away at a piece of my brain. And not just that, they were turning that piece of brain on, giving me a boner just imagining Anna and me or is it I in this situation.

"Oooh. Got me there too."

"Burn!"

"Well done, but go on. What's this imagination BS?"

"Thank you Bill and it's not BS. Claire had me doing these imagination exercises for about two weeks. What we did was I would be playing 2nd base for the Blue Jays and we're in the World Series against the Dodgers and no one thinks we stand a chance against..."

"OK, skip that part."

"You don't want to hear about game 7?"

"Later, get to the part about you and Claire."

"Gotcha. So Claire says to me one night, 'Let's try a new one.' And I say OK, cause I love her like crazy and we had been kissing. And she says, 'This time we'll imagine something about me.' And I'm like OK. 'Imagine I'm an elite athlete, like top 10 in the world in tennis or something.' So I told her OK to that, even though she's not really that great in tennis, which is why I needed to use imagination. 'And imagine you play tennis too, but you're just average, like some weekend-player who knows the game and enjoys it but isn't really all that great.' Well, that part was easier cause it's pretty much the way it actually is. 'And now imagine you get this bug up your behind like why is she out there playing tennis with all these people when she could play me, when it could be just the two of us, enjoying it together.' OK, I told her. Can do. I could see what she meant. Imagination."

"Imagination."

"Yes, and she says, 'And imagine you come to me and say that I can only play tennis with you.' Got it, I kind of liked the sound of it, very manly of me, so I imagined that. 'Now imagine I agree to that because I'm your wife and I love you.' Check, nice of her too, Claire is pretty thoughtful that way, about me being head of the family and such, because of how she was raised. 'Imagine that we do that for a while, but it makes us both kind of unhappy.' This one was harder, like why would tennis make us unhappy? Is there an injury or something? But she helped explain it. 'See we play and there's not much in it for me cause you can't keep up with me.' Well, that would make sense. 'And there's not much in it for you because you know I'm not taking it seriously.' That one was complicated but after a second or two I was able to imagine it. 'I'm resentful because my skills are deteriorating.' Check. 'You're resentful because you know I'm not into it.' It was a workout but I did it. I had everything in my imagination. Felt good about that, cause it was a number of things to keep in my head at once. Anyway, that's what she said."

"Jesus, where did this conversation take place."

"Oh, we were in bed, didn't I say that? No? Weird of me! Yes, in our bed at home just a few nights after game 7. Want to hear that part now?"

"No."

"Hmmm, your loss. Anyway, I had just finished going down on her, rang the bell too, thank you very much, good night ladies and gentlemen, drive safely and please recollection to tell your friends. We're here all week. Ka-ching! Ka-ching! Ka-ching!"

"Stop it. For God's sake!"

"Ummm, but I hadn't performed intercourse on her yet. What she did was wrap her hand around me, or actually, what I mean is around my penis. Her hand wouldn't fit around all of me, like my waist, not that I'm fat, probably could lose five pounds but you wouldn't say fat. It's just her hands are... Anyway, I was already really hard, and she said all this very softly, in a whisper, while I was getting more and more excited."

"She must have said more than that, a guy like you..."

"Exactement! That's what she said too, a guy like me..."

"Go on."

"So she's kissing my chest and my nipples, which, it's OK to admit that guys can like that as much as girls do, and I was into it even while I was keeping all the imaginings in my head, cause I didn't want her to have to go over it all again. And then she says, 'Honey, don't you think it might be better if I could play tennis at my own level?' Makes sense I told her. 'With you there for me? You'd have to be there. I could never do it alone.' That sounds nice. 'You'd be like my manager, my coach, my cheerleader, my...' And I told her yes of course, that I'd be her driver, her equipment guy, her ballboy, everything. By then she was kissing down my belly and I was thinking My God! She's going to do it. And she said, 'You wouldn't resent it, would you?' I told her no that would be crazy, and she was kissing lower, still had my penis in her hand. She raised her head and said, 'And you wouldn't resent the people I play with?' No, I couldn't see why I would. 'You don't feel bad because you can't play like Tim Duncan? Right?'"

"Tim Duncan?"

"Yeah, I was pretty surprised myself that she would bring up his name right then. And I'll tell you why, there were two reasons. First, that part must have come from Julian because I was pretty sure she didn't really know who Tim Duncan was. And second because it seemed like we were headed towards a blowjob. But I took her point and grunted in the refirmative and she was sliding down the bed a little more, kissing my body on the way. She says, 'You don't feel bad watching him pitch a baseball, do you?' See? A baseball! Can you believe it? That's women for you!"

"They are complicated Rog."

"Yessir, that they are. Anyway, I didn't want to lose focus so I told her no, of course it didn't make me feel bad. Claire says, 'You don't compare yourself to him, right?' And I agreed that was true. She was kissing right above my pubes with my dick in her hand. She looked back up at me. 'You don't feel bad watching Roger Federer, right?'"

"Federer?"

"Yeah, she was all over the map, but Claire actually does follow tennis, so I played along. 'You can't do what he does, right?' Now she's between my legs, kissing my thighs. I was so proud of not cumming then. I knew something great was about to happen. But I told her, I said, What? You think my serve is 125 mph? It came out like I was being critical, which was certainly not my intent. I was just being truthful. She didn't seem to mind though. 'So if Federer came to town and I got to play him, you wouldn't mind?' No, that would be pretty cool. 'And you'd be there for me?' Yes, of course I would be. 'You'd be my ball boy?' Yes, yes and yes. She was kissing the head of my dick. 'You'd be happy for me?' Yes. 'Happy for Federer too?' Yes, he's a lucky guy but he's earned it. 'Watching him, watching me and him together, if you really focus, it might make you better a better player too, don't you think?' Believe I could pick up a trick or two from that, yes. 'You'd still be kind of average, but a little better, right?' Which seemed oblivious, so I only had to grunt and she knew I agreed. 'It would make us both happy? You and me together?' Yes. 'Even if Federer was tearing me up?' Yes, you can't win 'em all. 'Just to watch me compete at that level?' Yes. 'And enjoy myself.' This time I couldn't answer because Claire's lips had wrapped themselves around my penis and she was drooling spit to make it slippery and lapping inside with her tongue. She cupped my testicles while she sucked and all I could think was this imagining game is fun, it leads to some pretty cool things."

"Jesus. How long did you last?"

"I don't want to brag."

"Then don't."

"I happened to see the clock when she started me imagining. 9:47 pm. Glanced at it again when the head of my penis first touched her lips, 9:59, and then again after she completed fellatioing me and swallowed, 10:10. Can you believe it? I lasted 11 minutes in my wife's mouth before my penis orgasmed. Whole thing lasted 23 minutes and then she went into the bathroom to rinse out her mouth."

"Jesus! That was it?"

He seems offended and does one of his quick switches back to the vernacular. "What do you mean, it? Best blowjob of my life by about a million miles, actually my first ever really real blowjob. I mean she had kissed around there a little before without ever really committing to it in her mouth, or to sucking. And when she did I would orgasm in like ten seconds and it would get all over the sheets, which seemed to annoy her. Now she's sucking my dick like I'm the star athlete, using her own imagination and what the guys had taught her, and swallowing cum, which was real swallowing, nothing imaginary about it. Good God man! Do you understand, comprennez-vous, what I'm telling you? My wife SWALLOWED my cum."

"Fuck yeah," I said and we high fived. I felt it go thump.

"Was soooo amazing, I couldn't believe..."

"Yeah, Roger, I get that."

"All cause of the guys, and how they taught her to make her man happy."

"Yeah, I guess. You're one lucky son of a gun." I had to shift at the thought of Claire swallowing, how she'd be so pretty afterwards, smiling and maybe a drop or two rolling on her chin.

"That I am." I think he might have shifted too.

"And you lasting like that, for 10 minutes..."

"Eleven minutes."

"Yeah, but who's counting?"

"Me, that's who."

"You really think being in the club somehow helped you last like that?"

"Think it through, Bill. It makes sense. Just being with the guys, being around all that sexual confidence, that masculine confidence with girls, and around Claire's sexual confidence with men, me knowing the pressure wasn't on me to work up to her level, to their level. It allowed me to relax, enjoy myself, enjoy her mouth when she blows me."

"She's good at it I bet. Sometimes I picture..."

He lowers his eyes. "Yes, but you're picture isn't one-millionth the real thing my friend. Claire has become an excellent cocksucker," he says modestly.

"God!"

"You could ask any of the guys. They'd tell you."

"I just might."

God! I was curious as to why he could call her a cocksucker but got his panties in a bunch if I mentioned her pussy or tits even in passing. But I guess that's a husband's prerogative and let it go.

I took the opportunity to ask a different question that had been on my mind.

"Roger?"

"Yessir?"

"If you don't mind my asking..."

"Anything, sahib," he says politely.

"Just wondering. The way you speak now? How you say 'cock' and 'pussy' and 'cunt' and 'tits'. You never used to. And sometimes you call it 'fucking' or 'cocksucking' but other times it's just like 'sexual intercourse' or 'fellatio" or..."

Roger shakes his head with a frown. "Yes, I know. Bad habit. I see now that I've offended you."

"No, no, no..."

"My problem is I'm picturing like you're already in the club and I'm talking with you like us husbands do together, or even with our wives..."

"No, no..."

"...you know, especially on our weekends, sometimes our language can get a little naughty. But I'm sorry Bill. I'll clean it up from here."

"No, Roger. Listen. It's not that. Really. I'm just curious why you go back and forth."

"Oh, that, ummm. Well, Claire and I had been raised to use proper language. Not to blame the guys, but once we got in the club we started hearing those other words more and more. Claire thought it was funny the way the guys said it. She avoided it herself except when we were in bed and she'd be telling me stories about what one of the guys had said or done. The naughty words kind of affected us both. God, she would get so juicy. Gradually the words started making more sense to us both. But really only when she was telling me about the guys, so like hardly at all. And I didn't really use the words myself at all, just got into hearing her talk about it that way."

"I see. What changed?"

"I think it started with Betsy, or Betsy and Tony. There was this night we had Tony and Betsy Trammel over for a cookout. We'd been in the club about six months and wanted to thank them, you know for recruiting us. Betsy had been so sweet, and really patient with me. Tony too, especially before we went that first time. We had this great meal and a few drinks, a completely normal couples evening, the girls talking about fashion and us guys talking about baseball even though Tony kept getting confused about things like the infield fly rule. But then after we started on wine, probably way too much wine, and we were all getting a bit silly."

A smile forms on his face. I say, "Go on."

"That's when Tony says, 'Honey I just realized that's the same necklace you had on that night with Gerald' Betsy giggles and says, 'You're dying to tell them, aren't you?' He laughs and nods, then she kisses his cheek and tells him to go ahead. So Tony launches into a story about a night when Betsy was out on a private date with a guy named Gerald, one of the guys I never got to meet, think he moved to Louisville before we came in. Somehow Gerald's hotel reservation got messed up and they decide to go back to her house to fuck...oops...see?"

"It's OK, Roger."

"Anyway, Tony was using that language. He really got into it and told us everything. Betsy would blush and giggle and add some detail if Tony forgot something or got it wrong like he does with the infield fly rule. But mostly it was Tony. At first Betsy and Gerald were just chatting on the couch while Tony served drinks and these little cheese hors d'oeuvres he likes. Then they start kissing and touching while they talked, but nothing too bad. So Tony dimmed the lights and put on some Barry White low in the background."

"My God, her husband making it sexy for them."

"Yes, Tony is very thoughtful that way. Gerald gets Betsy up for a slow sexy dance, his hands roaming all over her while they make out. By the second song Gerald is undressing her. Her dress and then her bra and then her little panties fall to the floor. Tony runs in to pick them up, and as he bends to get them he sees Gerald's cock tenting his slacks. He sees his wife's fingers unzipping her man. Tony retreats to watch then rushes back in to retrieve Gerald's pants, boxers, then his shirt. Now they're dancing nude, making out with Gerald's thick cock bouncing against his wife's belly. Tony got so excited then, describing how they kissed, how her tits looked, how wet her pussy was, Gerald's thick black dick and the scent of her cunt."

"He's using that language? With his wife right next to him?"

"Bing! She loved it. Then Gerald picks her up and heads for the bedroom with Betsy panting in his arms."

"My God!"

"Yeah, I know. Claire and I just sat there listening with our mouths open. We had never heard anyone speak that way before, never heard anyone describing his woman and his woman's man and their business before. But we could see how much he liked talking about it, and how Betsy liked it too. And, you know, it was sure getting to me, getting to Claire too I think."

"Wow."

"Then Tony goes completely nuts. Tells us Gerald got Betsy to the doorway and looked over his shoulder back to him. He invites Tony into his own bedroom to watch. Can you believe it? God!"

"God!"

"Yeah, so Tony runs ahead of them to pull down the covers. Gerald tosses Betsy gently to the middle of the big bed. She's panting and her legs are spread. Tony tells us everything. How Gerald fingered her and sucked on her tits, how he fucked her on her back, then fucked her again from behind, and how Gerald fucked her upside down, how hard his wife was cumming. The dirty talk those two were doing, everything! Tells us how Betsy knelt at the side of his bed to suck Gerald's cock, how his cum shot up into her hair and over her head against the headboard. Tony ran to get a towel for her to clean up a little, and then got to watch the cum dripping on the headboard while they rested. Tony served drinks for them to cool down. Then Gerald fucked her again 30 minutes later..."

God help me my dick is growing harder. Roger had said that asshole Farrell fucked my Anna in so many crazy positions. Like this? Did he fuck her upside down? Like what this Gerald had done with Betsy? God help me.

"...and how this one left a huge spray of cum on her ass, and how she sucked his cock again, and how his, Tony's, dick was going crazy the whole time just like mine does."

"Good Lord!"

"I know, it was amazing. I mean hearing it, me and Claire hearing it. I'm sure it was amazing for Tony too, you could see that."

"Not to mention for Gerald and Betsy."

"Absolutement mon ami! Gerald and Betsy had sexual intercourse all night long and Tony got to see every bit of it. He was so proud of his wife, which was nice to see, and told us how Betsy had that same necklace on, like was the only thing she had on, throughout each and every fuck, and that some of Gerald's cum ended up on the necklace from the second blowjob. Why it stood out to him that night with us. So proud of her."

"I bet he was."

"Yeah, and we could see how much Betsy appreciated it. Her eyes were glowing and she held his hand the whole time he told us the story. Finally Betsy looks at Claire, she giggles and says, 'best single night of fucking in my entire life' and that kind of broke the ice for me and Claire. That's when we all got into it."

"Yeah? What'd you say?"

"Well, first Claire starts laughing kind of nervous like and asks Betsy, did he really literally fucked her all night long? First time my wife ever used the f-word with someone else. Somehow it felt good to hear her say it that way. Betsy smiles and says, 'Hammered this little pussy like he was the village blacksmith' which I thought was a fine way of describing how he sexed her. Then I ask her did she chirp, but they didn't get what I meant so I dropped it. Tony started to brag about how wet Betsy's pussy gets for her man, which Betsy really appreciated. She giggled and described Gerald's dick for us, said it was like a fat cannoli filled with sweet cream, a special dessert he brought just for her. Tony kisses her cheek and reaches in to run his finger along her necklace. Then his hand drifts down to cup her tit."

"She have nice ones?"

"Very."

"What happened then?"

"Claire was squirming in her seat, getting into it big time. She asks was it special cause they fucked right in her's and Tony's bed and Tony says, 'Fuckin-A it was' so I was wondering if Tony came from watching but was too shy to ask. Then Claire tells the story about her getting fucked in our bed by Jevon while I was away for work, and how sexy that was. I already knew everything about that night but those two didn't, and Claire really did a really fine job describing it, using the words Tony and Betsy had been using. I was getting more and more excited, I guess cause of the wine, but probably from all the talk about sucking and fucking too to be honest. So I start quizzing Tony like, did Gerald really fuck his wife upside down and how that would work? Now I'm saying 'fuck' just like they all had been. I got up the nerve to ask Betsy did she swallow on the second blowjob, or did he cum on her tits or any other interesting spots. Claire tells a story about Jevon going down on her in our living room before they went upstairs to fuck in our bed, and how he was saying such nice things about her clit and her pussy. Then Betsy tells a story about a date with Julian when he fucked her behind a tree off the 17th hole of his golf club. Claire laughs and says she got fucked at that club too, but it was in a private room off the dining area, bent over a low chair, the time Harry pulled out and spun her to her knees so he could cum in her mouth and watch her swallow."