The Reconciliation

Someone rang my doorbell just after nine on a Monday evening, making me frown.

Firstly, no-one visits me after nine on a Monday, or any other day for that matter. Not since Jessie left, anyway. Secondly, I don't like people visiting me, seemingly at random. Thirdly, although my OCD is much more under control these days, instead of ignoring the interruption, I knew I would have to find out who it was and what they wanted. Sighing, I rose to my feet and opened the door.

'Yes?' I asked, trying to hide my irritation, although it might very quickly reveal itself depending on who was there and what was being asked of me.

I found myself facing a woman. My annoyance didn't blind me to the fact she was extremely attractive, although her hair -- styled in some sort of semi-perm that caused her hair to cascade to her shoulders in frizzy waves -- practically begged to be properly brushed out.

'Don't say a word, Harry,' the woman said. 'You can nod or shake your head but no talking, right?'

I was about to remind her that she was the one standing on my doorstep and the one who had rung my bell when I suddenly realised I knew her. Not only did I know her, in fact, but I was still married to her. Either that, or she was a slimmer, sexier, doppelganger who just happened to know someone called Harry lived at this particular address.

I nodded, somewhat stupidly.

'Good! Now, I know you won't be able to resist knowing why I'm here, so why don't you let me in?'

Still trying to get my head around the fact that my wife had turned up, unannounced, after more than six months of absence, I automatically stepped back and then closed the door once she had entered what was, technically, partly her house.

'Excellent,' she said, giving me one of the smiles that had once rendered me speechless while at the same time, giving me an erection.

Naturally, she glanced down to check her smile was still having that particular effect, before nodding to herself as she took in the growing bulge in my sweatpants and then giving me a grin that informed me any explanations were going to have to wait.

'Come on, Harry. You know you like to be in bed before nine-thirty on Mondays.'

She headed up the stairs giving me a perfect view of her long, shapely legs and cute ass. In the past, she had never worn a dress or a skirt that didn't reach at least to her knees. What she was wearing on this occasion was less of a skirt and more of a broad belt. There was even a flash of snow-white panties as she ascended in front of me. The bitch had obviously remembered I used to prefer her wearing plain white panties to anything else, no matter how flimsy or lacy other ones might be.

I caught up with her in the bedroom where she was looking around in amusement at its immaculate tidiness. She looked at me with the same determined grin, only maybe this time it was a dirtier one than she'd ever given me before.

'We're going to have sex, Harry. Quite a lot of sex, actually, so if that idea doesn't appeal, now would be a good time to shake your head. Otherwise, take your clothes off.'

She cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow. As I rather dazedly pulled off my t-shirt, the grin returned and it was definitely a dirty one.

She had always had a nice smile and a friendly grin. True, there had been several occasions when it had been a hungry smile, but she'd never grinned like she was doing now.

The grin widened and became dirtier when I pushed down my sweats and my erection appeared.

'And I'm pleased to see you, too, Harry,' she said, 'only women aren't quite as obvious about their arousal as you men. Now, go and lie down on the bed while I take off my clothes.'

'But I need to --'

'No. You don't!' she said sharply. 'Just this once you can leave your clothes right there on the floor without folding them and putting them away. The world is not going to end if you don't. Besides, what you and I are going to do will more than take your mind of a few bits of clothing. And I said, "No talking."'

Her instruction was just one more surprise in what I was beginning to fear was going to be a long list of them. Never before had she calmly undressed in such a way although she did turn her back to peel off her sweater. Her lack of a bra was another surprise. Although her breasts had never been large enough to need any form of support, I had never known her to go without one.

She wriggled out of her skirt, the resultant sight confirming she was wearing my favourite form of underwear. It also showed me a small, reasonably discreet, tattoo across her lower back, just above her buttocks. A tramp-stamp, I believe they're called.

I couldn't have spoken if I'd wanted to. I was literally speechless.

Then she turned around and my chin hit my chest.

The last time I'd seen her naked, she had been considerably overweight and flabby -- and positively blousy when clothed. Her tight sweater, very short skirt and frizzy hair could never be described as blousy. Provocative, yes. Sexy, definitely. Maybe even slutty. But blousy? Never.

Then there was her body. Gone was the excess weight and every hint of flab. Now she looked sleek and toned, firm without being muscular and more desirable than I'd ever seen her. Without conscious effort, I found I was stroking my dick.

'Don't say a word, Harry. If you approve, just nod. If you don't, well, I'm sorry, because I could give you a list of names of men who most definitely approve -- and that would make you the odd one out.'

I was unable to speak or move my head. Even my hand had stopped moving. Not only had her body miraculously transformed, her nipples were now pierced by thin, gold rings. Not only that, where before she had sported quite a luxuriant bush, she was now completely hairless and, just to prolong my inability to do anything but stare, she was standing with her feet some way apart. Far enough apart, in fact, to show me another gold ring, this one through the hood of her clit.

She appeared pleased with my reaction and took my lack of movement as approval because she climbed onto the bed, straddled my hips and shamelessly rubbed her cunt against my dick. It became soaked with her juices within seconds.

'See what I mean about being as aroused as you?' she asked.

I managed a nod. She laughed, raised her ass, positioned my dick and lowered herself onto it in a single, smooth movement. I groaned at the heat and the tightness and started wondering if this woman really was my wife. She'd never looked like this in the past and she'd certainly never acted like this. Although she'd never refused to let me have sex, she had always taken a passive role, even when she'd suggested it. I wasn't complaining because, already, this woman was infinitely more exciting than my wife, but I couldn't help thinking there was going to be some sort of reckoning before very long.

For the moment though, I was able to ignore the two piles of discarded clothing, because her cunt was gripping my dick in a way I'd never experienced before and it was wildly exciting.

One of Jessie's friends had wasted little time in offering support following my wife's leaving and, more recently, a neighbour had taken to slipping round while her husband was at work. Both women had been far more demanding and adventurous than Jess had ever been, but this reincarnation put them both to shame in both looks and sensuality.

I was aware that each time she rolled forwards, grinding her clit against my pubic bone, the ring caused some sort of sensation that made her whimper lustfully. I decided to find out if the nipple rings had a similar effect on her breasts and gently tugged and twisted them.

The effect was startling. She stiffened, cried out and began shuddering. It was several moments before she was able to resume her steady riding of me.

'Again,' she said, after a few more minutes.

Once again she climaxed as the rings supplemented whatever other feeling she was enjoying. After the third time she wiped the perspiration from her brow and smiled down at me.

'Your turn, Harry. Thanks for holding back. Now fill me.'

Just to make sure I did, she reached back and somehow managed to insert a finger into my ass. My resulting climax had to be the best I'd ever had and she leaned forwards to lick and nibble my neck as I calmed down.

'I told you we're going to have a lot of sex, didn't I? Just nod. No talking yet.' She waited until I nodded before continuing. 'That was phase one. Are you ready for phase two?'

I nodded, trying to remember if Jessie had a younger sister. I was sure she hadn't, but I couldn't think who else this woman could be.

Phase two involved her wriggling forwards off my dick and shuffling up the bed, still astride me. I was too fascinated by her wide-open cunt, with its swollen lips and slow seepage of my semen to realise her intentions until it was far too late.

My wife had done little to curb the growth of her pubic hair and hadn't liked me looking at her naked body. Her friend and the neighbour didn't have the same hang-up about their bodies and I had spent quite some time looking, touching and tasting their cunts. If this woman really was my wife, it was the first time she had flaunted her cunt at me.

Then the hot flesh settled over my mouth and I found myself licking and sucking our combined juices. Occasionally I'd tug her ring, seemingly driving her crazy judging by the way she writhed. Long before she backed away, the taste of my semen had gone and only that of her freely flowing juices remained.

'Christ, Harry, you're still really are good at the oral stuff, aren't you?' she panted. 'Okay, phase three. I'm going to turn around and start sucking your dick. You are going to do pretty much what you did to my cunt, only this time you do it to my ass. Okay?'

I nodded, my suspicions confirmed. There was no way this could be my wife. Jess didn't swear, refused to let me do anything more than stroke the cheeks of her ass and, of course, she was heavier to the point of being borderline fat -- and had no body piercings or tattoos.

But I did enjoy both anal foreplay and anal sex. I'd been introduced to it before I met Jessie and, after the five year hiatus that was our marriage, resumed with alacrity thanks to my neighbour. And now this mystery woman was inviting me to make free with her very cute derriere -- which was an invitation I was not going to decline.

She'd even brought her own lube and appeared to enjoy, thoroughly, the subsequent ass fuck I gave her.

Once we'd calmed down a little she kissed me long and lovingly.

'I really had no idea just how good a fuck you are, Harry,' she said, with a heavy sigh. 'Okay. I need to spend some time on the toilet and in the shower. Will you make us some tea and then we can talk?'

I nodded and climbed out of bed.

'Oh,' she added, 'if those two piles of clothes aren't exactly where they are now when I come out of the bathroom I'm going to get dressed and leave -- with no explanations. It's not going to kill you to leave them there for ten minutes.'

I fought down the impulse to tidy up and padded off to make the tea. I used the downstairs shower room to have a quick shower while the kettle was boiling and tried not to look at the discarded clothes when I returned to the bedroom.

The woman emerged from the bathroom looking fresh and perky and I felt my dick twitch at the sight of her sleek nakedness. We sat up in bed. She held her mug in one hand and my dick in the other.

'Phase four will follow in due course,' she informed me, apparently pleased by the way my dick was reacting to her touch, 'and you're not allowed to talk until I've finished my explanation. I'll start from the beginning.

'The way I see it, we separated for two reasons. The first was that your obsession with neatness and tidiness was driving me crazy -- just as my untidiness was driving you the same way. The second reason was your increasing frustration with my performance in bed -- and my concern that I was unable to satisfy you. Also, although you never said anything, I could tell you no longer found me as attractive as you did in our early days together. So we separated.

'The first thing I did was to join a gym. They assigned me a personal trainer who not only devised an exercise programme, but also gave me a diet sheet which I followed scrupulously.

'Then I started doing research. I concentrated on two areas. One was understanding your condition, the other was understanding mine and I have to say I made progress in both areas.

'My doctor referred me to a sex therapist and, without boring you with the tests and subsequent results, the conclusion was that my erogenous zones simply weren't erogenous. Whilst I enjoyed kissing, any touching, stroking, call it what you will, did nothing to arouse me. My breasts and nipples were considerably less sensitive than those of most other women. My clit and cunt might as well not have existed when it came to them giving me pleasure.

'This went a long way to explaining why I obtained no real pleasure from sex and thus lay like a sack of potatoes while you fucked me.

'It was felt that increasing the sensitivity of these areas might awaken an interest in sex and so I had the piercings done. After all, if there was no benefit, I could simply remove them and be no worse off.

'In fact the difference was incredible. Suddenly, I was able to become aroused. I started to feel horny and, as my body slimmed down and firmed up, I began to regain some measure of self-confidence.

'Some of my research centred on what men and women liked doing and having done to them and I found myself actually wanting to try most of the things I was reading about.

'Next comes the tricky bit,' she said with a sigh, followed by a few mouthfuls of tea, 'because there was only one way to find out what I liked and didn't like and only one way to improve my technique. I say, "improve," but what I really mean was to 'develop' a technique because, as we both know, I didn't have one. I was submissive and unresponsive and that needed to change.

'So, over the last three months I've been experimenting. To put it bluntly, that means I had sex with a number of partners --'

She felt my body stiffen and hurried on.

'That's all it was, Harry. Sex. There was no emotional involvement. No romantic dinners or anything and no cuddling afterwards. I used those men as a way of gaining experience. In return, I allowed them, initially at least, to fuck me any way they wanted. A crash course in sex, if you like.

'I didn't feel guilty cheating on you because I was doing it for both of us and my friend Susie said you hadn't taken a lot of seducing and that I had to let her know if things didn't work out between us because she'd be more than happy to keep you happy. To say she was disappointed when you ended the affair is putting it mildly. You must tell me why you did -- but not just yet.

'So, I had a whole new attitude to sex. I was enjoying it for the first time in my life -- including the nasty stuff good girls aren't supposed to know about, let alone practice. I was feeling good about how I looked and couldn't resist the tattoo as a reminder of how I'd changed from an unresponsive and overweight lump of lard to a -- if I do say so myself -- pretty sexy and raunchy bit of stuff.

'I figured the time was right for us to try again. I have some ideas about how to deal with your OCD which we can talk about. So I came to see you. If things don't work out, at least I'll have tried and I can move on with a lot more confidence than I had six months ago. But I'm hoping things will work out because I've always loved you and the sex we just had was incredible. I'm hoping you'll think my couple of months of promiscuity was worth it and is something we will be able to put behind us. Either way, I want this to be a night we both remember for a long time so we're now moving onto phase four. After that, you can tell me what you think and how you see our future.'

With that, she put down her empty mug, relieved me of mine and disappeared under the quilt to renew her acquaintance with my dick.

She reappeared with a saucy grin and licked her lips.

'I like the way you taste, Harry, and if we can add more fresh vegetables and pineapple juice to your diet you'll taste even better. Okay, your turn to talk.'

She snuggled into me, one long, slim thigh thrown carelessly over mine, her head on my shoulder and her hand slowly rubbing my chest.

'I'm still not convinced you're my wife. The differences between you and the woman who left a few months ago are practically endless. The way you look; your language; the things you do... '

'Is that good, or bad?'

'It's so much better I can't believe it's you.'

'Well, it is,' she giggled. 'And it's so much better for me, too. I'm now in a position to compare and you're so far out in front when it comes to awesome sex I don't care if you had a different woman every night since I left. If things don't work out between us though, you might have spoiled me for other men.'

'But you could have a lot of fun looking for Mr Right,' I pointed out.

'I could. And I would,' she admitted, 'but I found my Mr Right a few years ago. The question is, am I still your Mrs Right?'

'If I'm being shallow and chauvinistic, hell yes! You look like sex on a stick and you fuck like a horny slut. But there's a lot more to a fulfilling relationship than good sex.'

'I know, but we're making progress, right? And I have some ideas about how we can both co-habit without your OCD driving another wedge between us.'

'Such as?'

'Such as I take over one of the spare rooms and always keep the door closed. As long as you can resist opening it, it won't matter how messy it might be. That would be my safety valve. I've never had a problem with the living room and kitchen being clean, neat and tidy, so no conflict there and, whenever we want sex, we use your room. I'll be too busy enjoying having my brains fucked out to worry about how tidy the room is.'

'That might work,' I conceded.

'We can only try,' she said, sounding pleased. 'Now, why did you ditch Susie?'

'I thought if you ever found out you'd be pissed off with both of us -- and I didn't want to spoil things between you and your best friend. But how did you know about that?'

'It was my idea suggestion. I didn't want you fucking just any old slapper when you were feeling horny. Susie would rather fuck than eat so I suggested she killed two birds with one stone by coming on to you. It was win-win for both of you, right? She got some strange and you got enough to keep you from going out on the pull

.

'So ending it with her was thoughtful, if unnecessary -- but you weren't to know that. But don't tell me you've been going without since you ended it with her.'

'Er, no. Remember Denise Williams?'

'The sexy bitch from a few doors down the road? Of course I do. I hate her. She's everything I wanted to be but wasn't.'

'Six months ago she may have been. Can't say that now, though.'

'Was she -- is she -- very good in bed?' she asked, sounding wistful.

'Yes. And so was your friend Susie. But neither of them are as good as the new you.'

'Are you going to keep fucking her?'

'Early days, Jess. What about all the studs you fucked, the ones who helped turn you into who you are now. Are you going to give up on casual sex?'

'That will depend on you. I'm not saying I won't fancy a fling from time to time, but it would only be to reassure myself that you were the best. If you want more than just me, would you finish with Denise and be satisfied with Susie? I'm pretty sure the horny bitch would welcome you back with open thighs. Plus,' she added, with a wicked smile, 'I could probably be talked into joining you both, if you like that idea.'