Author's notes:
#1: I'd like to dedicate this story to member "Someonetwothree" in recognition of his kind comment on my story "The Wimp." That wasn't his favorite story, but he still had some encouraging words for a struggling wannabe writer. Thanks 123—this one's for you. I'd love to hear your opinion on how to make it better.
#2 Obviously I lean more to RAAC than BTB, for I'm a forgiving sort of guy who believes the Bible's teaching about forgiving like you want to be forgiven. Still, I'm writing fiction, thus I need to write for the audience, and the BTB fans are part of Lit's readers, therefore I'll try to mix in more of those stories. If BTB fans really want to read more and better stories, they can help by constructive comments and suggestions. I welcome comments from anyone I can reach for clarification.
*****
To Share or Not To Share
Until six weeks ago I would have sworn we had the perfect marriage and almost the perfect life. Sure, my wife Jan and I had our problems, but they were nothing compared to what so many of our friends faced. I often thanked God for all his blessings, especially for giving me the smarts to perfect the electronic ignition system used on almost all of today's cars.
You'll remember how iffy those things were when they first came out; well, it was little ole me that come up with the solution that allows you to almost forget about having problems with the ignition systems today. It was a simple little circuit change, but I patented it and since I wasn't greedy, the car companies didn't see the need to spend money reinventing the wheel, so I have an income that allows us to live the good life.
Thus Jan and Joey Baker became a pillar of the community, people who could be relied on to help in a time of need. We also recognized the problems we could face if people knew just how wealthy we really were—especially how vulnerable our children would be if some thug got it in his head to use them for blackmail. Therefore we tried to keep the public, and even our kids, thinking we were just upper middle class citizens.
In keeping with the scenario, Jan worked as a real estate agent while I was a codes inspector for the county. Both jobs gave us plenty of free time to attend the kids school functions and 'what have you' while they were growing up. Now both our girls, Betty and Babs were in college and we had all that free time to ourselves, and that's where the problems started.
Our sex lives had always been good—I thought. At least Jan always seemed to have an orgasm when we made love. I didn't have a lot of experience before we married and neither did Jan. She explained my dick not finding the barrier to her 'holy place' by saying she and a girl friend had fooled around with vibrators while in college. Hey, it happened before I knew her, whatever it was, so I had no compliant. Just as long as I was the only one allowed to enter that gateway to paradise since marriage, I was happy.
Now for the sake of full disclosure I admit I'm not a really big man, neither in body size nor 'down there'. In fact, from what I can read, my six incher is just about average; but movies and magazines were about all we had to go by back in the late sixties. I admit I always felt inferior, especially when we watched John Holmes and the other porn stars. The only thing I had going for me was the ability to stay in the saddle until the ride was over. I had complete control and sometimes she'd beg me to hurry up and cum because I was making her sore.
I'd watched the girls in the porn movies having orgasms, one after the other, but try as I might I couldn't get Jan to go twice. She insisted she was a 'once and done' kind of girl. Besides, she always insisted she was completely satisfied with me and that she couldn't imagine wanting anything more, and up until a few weeks ago I absolutely believed her.
So, what happened? Well, one day Jan came home all bubbly about getting promoted. It meant more money, but our investments were really paying off. Promotion also meant longer hours and being responsible for others. Personally I value our free time over more money, but she was all giddy about the promotion.
It's funny how, when you don't need money, you seem to just get more and more. We put the extra in the girl's college accounts because it helped sell them on the idea we were just common folks, like most of their classmates. The last thing we wanted was some bastard playing up to them because they had money coming when we died. We wanted our girls to have a true loving marriage, so our gifts were always in line with the hardworking family image.
"Honey," she said, "The Boss also assigned this new guy to me—well I say new—actually he's only new in comparison with the rest of us, he's been there some months now. His name's Kent and you won't believe how the single women at work fall all over themselves trying to impress him." She finished fixing us coffee to go along with the Chinese take-out she'd brought home. "I swear I think Susan climaxed just from him touching her face." She laughed.
"Wow! He must be really handsome."
"Oh, he's all of that, and then some. He has this baby-faced look about him that makes a woman want to hold him to her breast, pat his head and assure him it will be okay."
I was setting the table and glanced up just in time to catch the wistful look that flashed across her face. No need to ask if she had those same feelings, however, that really didn't bother me—so long as she didn't act on them. "Yeah, but he ain't as good looking as me, is he?" I teased.
She laughed again. "Course not, Honey. No one looks as good to me as my Hubby." She came over, wrapped her arms around my neck and proceeded to put a lip-lock on me that had few equals. Her tongue darted into my mouth and her hips ground against mine.
'Hey,' I thought, 'where is all this coming from?' Jan was a loving woman, but starting to smooch before dinner...? Not in quite a while. However, I wasn't stupid; when she took my hand and led the way to the bedroom, I thought, 'The hell with the coffee and the food. I can always heat them up after I cool this pussy down.'
"Get those clothes off, big boy," she said as she shed her own. In a jiffy we were naked, lying side by side with her moaning while I kissed and licked on those nipples, which proudly protruded from the brown areolas perched atop her still pert breast. I never ceased to wonder at how her breast had held their shape after having two babies. She always claimed it was because she didn't breast feed.
"Kiss me, Baby." She tugged me upward until my tongue started teasing hers. Our kissing heated up and then her hand fondled my cock, while she moaned un-intelligible nothings and her body began to thrash about. "Put it in—now!" She broke away long enough to tell me what she wanted, and then her tongue returned to my mouth as I slipped all I had into her squirming body. I had anticipated a long slow fuck, sort of like the waves of a calm tropical ocean; instead I got the raging surf that's so common just before one of our many hurricanes comes ashore.
When our hurricane finally blew out, we lay side by side—both panting like we'd just run five miles. I could feel her sweaty skin and smell the musky scent of a freshly fucked woman; I don't think I've ever smelled anything I liked better.