I scanned the club from the end of the long bar. I saw the table of my wife's co-workers, she wasn't sitting with them. The dance floor was crowded but you couldn't miss him. He looked like he just stepped out of a Harlequin novel. Long flowing black hair, dark tan and the top two buttons of his black shirt unbuttoned. He must be a gym rat or work construction, as he looked more than just a little fit. I had no doubt he sported a six-pack or maybe a twelve-pack under that tight shirt of his. The worst part about this whole thing was that he was dancing with my wife, Megan, and probably had the entire night. I drained my first and only drink of the night. She wasn't worth getting a DWI on the way home tonight.
Five weeks ago, when she came home from her Friday girl's night out, she woke me up and almost fucked me to death. It shocked the shit out of me. It was a surprise. A nice surprise but still a surprise.
"Thanks, I needed that," she said kissing me one last time as we both tried to catch out breath. "I need a shower, you game?" What was I going to say? NO!
It was a long shower. We fooled around and more than once I had to tell her to be quiet. I didn't want her waking up the kids in the next room. Back in bed, she cuddled up next to me and immediately went to sleep. I didn't.
We'd been married ten years, and in the last couple of years this was one, of only a few times, Megan had been the aggressor. Don't get me wrong, she always got into it, even when she wasn't in the mood, but I could count on one hand the number of times she'd initiated love making lately. And the worst part about it tonight, I don't even think she was drunk. She'd made those advances while she was sober. I spent the next hour looking at the dark ceiling wondering what the hell happened tonight that had gotten her so worked up.
I came down to a noisy breakfast. My two boys were arguing about something and Megan was frying up bacon and eggs.
"Any coffee?" I asked.
"Just made it, help yourself." I poured a cup and sat down at the table. I watched her as my boys went on arguing with each other.
How do I bring up last night? "You have fun last night?" she turned around and looked at me. "I mean before you came home?" I smiled at her.
"Yes I did. They had a new band and I danced my feet off. I even had a third glass of wine." I saw a wicked grin wash across her face. "Like the way I kissed you good-night when I got home?"
"Hated it! I think you should try it again tonight to see if you can get it right this time. If not, we'll just have to keep trying every night until you do." Now she was the one smiling.
"Men. Give them a taste and they expect it all the time."
"Not all the time, but three to four nights a week would be nice."
"With our work schedules? Be happy with what you're getting. Maybe we'll sneak in another session after we go grocery shopping today. That is if you're good."
"Oh, I'll be good, you can count on that," I said walking towards her.
"Back off bucko! If I burn breakfast it'll be your fault. Sit back down, drink your coffee and settle your two boys down."
"Yes my love." And I meant every word of that. She was my love and her and my two boys were my life.
We did make love when we got back that afternoon. It was behind locked doors as the boys played video games on the living room floor. It wasn't as wild as last night, but she did need to muffle her screams of joy with a pillow when I ate her to two orgasms. I had to settle for one, but it was a good one. Hell it was a great one—how could it not have been. Twice in less than twenty-four hours. We hadn't done that in I don't remember how long. I was walking on air. When it happened the following two Friday nights, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Then it stopped.
That Friday night I heard the garage door open and then close. I lay there, faking sleep, waiting for her to come upstairs and jump my bones. She didn't. She undressed, took a shower and slipped in bed next to me. I didn't even get a goodnight kiss. Only silence. Crap! I was primed.
I watched her the following morning. She acted normal, but I saw something in her eyes I hadn't seen in almost twelve years, uncertainty. While dating, we hit a rough patch. I wanted to take it to the final step and she kept putting me off. In here eyes it was like stepping off a cliff. I knew she was a virgin and I told her hundreds of times I loved her and that I wanted to marry her but it didn't seem to make any difference to her. She was calling the shots.
"Rick, I know you love me in all, but I'm not sure if I'm ready. Once I take that final step, there is no going back. I need to be sure." Three weeks later it happened.
We were watching a movie in my apartment and cuddling on my sofa. Neither one of us had anything to drink that night. She calmly grabbed the remote and turned off the movie. Without a word she grabbed my hand and led me back to my bedroom.
"You sure about this?" She didn't answer. She just kissed me.
Clothes disappeared and for the next hour I did my best to make her first time memorable. I licked her until she was screaming so loud I thought she'd wake the neighbors.
Then she pulled me up to her face. "Steve, make love to me."
Megan was so wet I just slipped in. Okay, I've only got six inches but it was more than enough to get her off twice more that night. After that we did it every time we went out. I hated condoms. When Megan went on the pill, it made it that much better not having to worry about a condom breaking and her getting pregnant.
Six months later I proposed. She said yes and moved in with me. Both parents didn't like the idea of us living in sin, so three months later we got married. I wanted to wait a year so we could have a big wedding and an extended honeymoon but Megan was satisfied with what we eventually had. Truthfully I think she was just happy to get everyone off our asses.
Over the next year we tried it all. Megan had absolutely no sexual hang-ups and wanted to try EVERTHING. I was experienced but had never tried anal and few other things she brought up after coming home after a girls night out.
"Is that all you girls do is talk about sex and compare husbands?" I asked one night when she told me she wanted to get a vibrator and butt plug.
"You guys are the ones who are insecure when it comes to your sexuality. We can have a lot of fun with it and no, it's not going to replace your big dick." She was smiling thank God.
Our collection of toys grew and six months later Megan came home with a porno. That didn't necessarily surprise me but the subject matter did... big cocks.
I fucking hated. Megan's eyes were riveted to what was happening on the screen. Every guy had to be at least ten inches. Then she pulled out her vibrator and started working on herself as we watched. When she moaned, getting herself off with it, I'd had enough. I left.
I spent the next couple of hours wondering what Megan was going to come up with next and if I was on the way out. I thought I was satisfying her in bed, but now I wasn't so sure. My head didn't clear and I realized I wasn't comfortable with where certain aspects of our sex life was going. I wanted to make tender love to my wife, not pound her skanky ass into the mattress. I got home just after midnight.
"Where in the hell have you been? I've been worried sick and couldn't reach you because you left your damn cell phone on the counter." I'd done that on purpose.
"You finish watching your movie yet? If not I can come back when you're done." Thankfully she caught the sarcasm in my voice.
"I stopped watching it when you left. Are you that insecure about your dick size?" I gave her an ugly look. "Okay, I was curious, all right. I wanted to see what Ann was talking about when she said her husband, Keith, was just under nine inches long."
