There are touchstone moments in life - fleeting sparks and forgotten glances; tiresome trials and well-intentioned fails. There are moments of magic, where the fabric of the universe bends and glory streams into your personal space and lights up your soul like fireworks exploding against a black sky. These moments are rare and eternal. They are the definition of love. My story recounts one of those moments. Some who read this story may feel it is perverted or twisted or morally wrong. I found it to be the greatest expression of love possible.
I spent a lot of time moping around the house in the months before my 40th birthday. I knew better but it's just part of life. At some age the mid-life crisis hits all of us. My wife, my soul mate of 20 years, did her best to cheer me up and be patient with me, but I was a baby. Cindy and I have been together as friends and comrades since the first year. We were together through junior high and high school. We had a simple wedding after I landed my job on the assembly line at the Ford Motor Plant. I put her through college and she has been an elementary school teacher in Detroit for 15 years.
We have a dog and a cat and a fish tank in the recreation room of our small home but we never got around to having children. We have had an active, enjoyable sex live, committed completely to each other. The spark in our marriage has not dimmed in the least.
I was so discouraged around the time of my birthday that I told my wife I wanted no party, celebration, or other commemoration of the event. She hesitantly agreed.
"We'll just have some quality time together," she said.
I knew what she meant but even that made me forlorn. During the first few years of marriage, I celebrated each birthday trying to see how many orgasms I could have in one day (five was the record). This year I'd be lucky to be able to squeeze out two.
Cindy spent the week before my birthday teasing me but always coming up with an excuse to avoid sex, so I was juiced by the time the big day arrived. True to her word, there was no surprise party, no gaudy "over the hill" cards, no touching trips down memory lane. We went to the lake and spent the afternoon kayaking and fishing, then napping on the sandy beach. We enjoyed a toned-down picnic of sandwiches, chips, and lemonade for dinner and watched the sun set over the hills that ringed the lake. Then we headed home.
"Into the shower birthday boy," Cindy commanded as she slipped into our bedroom.
I stripped and took a long look at my 40 year old body in the oversized bathroom mirror β a little rough around the edges, a few deeper lines around the eyes, a little pouch around the belly; but not too bad over all. I still had a full head of hair, a firm ass, and the outline of muscles around my chest and shoulders.
Cindy entered the bathroom and undressed while I was lost in my reflections. I felt her breasts dig into my shoulder blades as she wrapped her arms around me. She rested her head on my shoulder and admired my reflection in the mirror. Her hands instinctively slipped down my abdomen and she wrapped them around my dangling, semi-hard cock. I responded and my dick rose to attention as she casually stroked me.
"Looking good Champ," she said with a smile.
I swung Cindy around and tucked my cock lengthwise into her ass crack. I wrapped my arms around her waist and we inspected her body in the mirror. Her large breasts sagged, her abdomen was a little bloated, and her hips were much larger than they were when we married. But none of that mattered to me. I was lost in her smile and the kindness I knew was behind it.
She kissed me gently while squeezing my ass.
"Happy Birthday Love," she whispered.
Then she slapped me on the bottom and ushered me into the shower.
We climbed in and she forsook herself and gently washed and rinsed every inch of my body. She turned the shower spray to pulsate and aimed it against my shoulder blades. Then she slipped to her knees in front of me and took all of my seven inch cock into her mouth. The warmth of the water on my back competed with the warmth of her mouth as she slowly slid up and down the shaft. Water splashed off my shoulders and ran down her long black hair. Her hair was matted against her head, parted in the middle, and glistened in the steam of the shower as the water ran off in river lets. Beyond the stump of my cock - buried deep in her mouth - I could see her breasts gently swaying as she worked. The round curve of her beautiful ass melted into the cream colored shower floor.
Years of learning my body and practicing on it have made her a pro at sucking my cock. She loves to have it in her mouth, to kiss it, to lick my balls, to make me explode. Every sex session we've ever had has involved an extended period of cock-sucking.
She felt me reaching a turning point and reached up to cup and pinch my ball sack. Then she swallowed my entire cock and squeezed my ass with her free hand. As if on cue, I felt my legs go weak and begin to shake. A golf ball developed in my ass. It shot from back to front and I exploded a week's worth of cum into the back of her throat. She moaned as I pumped my load straight down her throat.
She laughed in playful satisfaction as I helped her to her feet. I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a long hug as the warm water splashed off our bodies. She turned off the water and toweled me dry. I waited and watched as she dried herself.
"I hope you left some in the tank for me," she said and reached out for my hand. "Because I'm gonna take you to the bedroom and I want you to pound the daylights out of me."
Cindy has always been a shy and quite lover. She never uses obscenity, even in the bedroom. And her most expressive state contains a sigh and gentle moaning when she experiences a particularly hard orgasm. Then she'll lean into my ear and whisper: "That felt soooo good."
Cindy led me down the hallway and into our bedroom. The room was cloaked in darkness except for a small circle of light emanating from the adjustable touch lamp on her night stand. As we entered the bedroom I caught my breath. There seemed to be the outline of a figure sitting in the Victorian chair in the corner of the room. I quickly realized it was just an oversized stuffed Panda Cindy used in her classroom and had recently brought home for the summer.
Cindy is a modest, "lights out during sex" kind of girl. A typical male, I'd prefer spotlights and a room full of mirrors. Over the years we have compromised and settled on low lighting on her bed stand.
The room was warm and we climbed on top of the covers and began to kiss. Her slow, deep kisses were accompanied by gentle rushes of her fingers through my hair. I was instantly hard.
I began to rub her breasts and play with the nipples while she reached between my legs and softly fondled my cock, smearing a few drops of pre-cum in circles around the head. My hand headed south for a little foreplay but she stopped it just below her belly button.
"Eat me," she said.
I was stunned. I could count on one hand the number of times she had let me go down on her over the last twenty years. It was a complete turn-off for her.