My wife and I were actually getting a weekend away from work, parenthood and everything that goes with being a "responsible adult", and we were acting like two kids ourselves as we drove several hours north to Robbie's place. A whole weekend where we could be ourselves. Wow!
Robbie had been my best friend since high school and one of the few I'd kept in touch over the years as we'd moved around because of our jobs, first by monthly (or so) phone calls and eventually by emails. Val had liked Robbie from the moment she met him, and he'd been the best man at our wedding.
Valerie and I met at a frat party when I was in my second year of university and she'd just graduated from high school. We hit it off right from the get-go and were quickly inseparable. Neither of us had been involved in a serious relationship before. While Val seemed very sensual and liked to touch and be touched, our sexual activities didn't amount to much since she'd been brought up to be a "good girl". I knew better than to push it, so until our wedding night, we never went any further than her giving me some occasional relief with her hand. While I had touched her intimately a number of times, she'd never allowed me to bring her to an orgasm, fearing that she'd lose control and we'd go all the way.
We waited until I graduated to get married (Val was 20 by then) and she got pregnant that first month. She's said she knew that it happened the first time we made love on our honeymoon and that proved it had been a good thing we'd never gone all the way before we walked down the aisle.
As the years went by, we had a second child (both now pretty well grown up and out of the house), Rob met and married a nice enough girl, but they never started a family. Not wanting to pry, we never asked why. Things went along like that for quite some time, with us getting together maybe every other year. It was around three years ago that Val had mentioned after a visit from Rob and Fran, his wife, that Fran seemed to be pretty unhappy.
"Was anything mentioned to you?" I asked.
"No, not really," Val answered. "It's just a feeling I got."
So it wasn't much of a surprise a few months later when Rob called up to tell me that he and Fran were packing it in. He didn't give me much of an explanation other than to say that she'd decided to take a job on the west coast and he'd decided he'd had enough moving and liked it where he was. With no kids and each of them with a good job, the divorce was amicable with Robbie buying out Fran in order to keep their house. Since then, he'd come to visit us twice and seemed his usual self. Well, maybe he'd been a little bit quieter. Val put it down to the fact that he probably felt strange being with us by himself after all these years, "You know, not being part of a couple." This was to be our first time since the divorce that we'd gone to visit Rob.
Even though she's 44, Valerie is still a
very
good looking woman. She has large, light blue eyes set in an oval face with high cheekbones, and her mouth, while wide, is wonderfully expressive – and kissable. She'd put on some pounds the past few years and I knew that she wasn't happy about that, but she still has the goods. While most of our married female friends have cut their hair a lot shorter as the demands of their families cut into their private time, Val has kept her wavy black hair very long. She stands 5'7" and giggles when I call her "long and lean", but that is a pretty apt description – when she's in fighting trim. She has really beautiful breasts, not huge but wonderfully shaped; the kind that stand up proudly and swell out into points when she's aroused. Her butt is perfect, tight and shaped like an inverted heart, the kind you see on those holiday postcards. In high heels, her legs can stop traffic.
In bed, she was often enthusiastic, but frankly, not very adventurous. That's been the one sticking point in our marriage. She preferred what I like to think of as "vanilla sex". Before we met, she claimed she'd only masturbated once. Val had never gone farther with her high school boyfriends than some "heavy petting", as she put it. She did like oral sex (mostly receiving) and enjoyed a few "different" positions (on top, doggy style), but over the years, I seldom could get her to even
consider
trying anything outside these pretty strict boundaries. She refused to masturbate in front of me and said she seldom did it on her own. Val would not watch porno flicks.
A few years ago I'd bought her a dildo hoping she would maybe find a use for it, but as far as I knew, it had never left its box. She told me my cock was all she desired; she didn't need plastic substitutes. It was obvious to me that she was a very passionate women, but also equally obvious that she could never really let herself go. Val seldom orgasmed except by direct stimulation of her clit either by mouth or my hand and I couldn't get her to stroke herself to orgasm while I thrust into her. Suffice it to say there was a lot more that she
wouldn't
do than she
would
do. It took years to get her to feel comfortable with me saying words like "cock" or "pussy", but "fuck" still wasn't in her allowable vocabulary. She used words like penis, vagina and clitoris. It was odd because other than her hang-up with some of the more "casual" sex terms, her language could be quite salty.
One time several years ago, we were lying in bed kissing and touching when I asked her what she
thought
about while we make love, hoping it might rev up her engine a bit.
"I think about your penis going in and out of me and how good it feels," she giggled, reaching down to stroke it.
"That's all?"
"Well, maybe some of the other things we do. Stuff like that. What do you think about?"
I made a big mistake and spoke honestly. "I sometimes think about what you would look like making love to someone else."
"What?"
Man, did Val take off at me! She barely spoke for a week and it was almost a month before she consented to make love again – and that was after a lot of explaining from me.
"How could you
ever
think I could do something like that? I love
you
! And I only want to make love with
you
! I could never sleep with anyone I didn't love! That's just plain disgusting."
I knew enough never to bring it up again.
Our weekend with Robbie involved a lot of kicking back and talking about the past. It rained a good part of the time, so we were stuck indoors. He has a great fireplace and with the chill of spring still in the air, it was very pleasant. On Sunday afternoon, it started to clear, and I got all enthusiastic about barbecuing some seafood. Rob isn't much into cooking and I didn't want Val to have to worry about it, so I told them I'd take care of everything. The shopping took nearly three hours because I'd decided to grill lobsters and couldn't find any for love nor money.
When I got back from my foraging, Robbie and Val were still where I left them in the living room, Val curled up on the sofa and Rob in his big easy chair. I sensed something was a little odd, though, and I thought maybe they'd had an argument. Both have some pretty strong views on politics. For the rest of the evening, Val remained distant. She went to bed early, claiming she was tired, and when I dragged my inebriated butt into bed around 1 a.m., I had a hard time sleeping, she was tossing and turning so much.
Sometime during the night she pressed up against me and when I began turning over to face her, she rolled on top of me. This wasn't usual since Val had always put me off at Rob's, saying she was certain that anything we did on the noisy sofa bed in his spare room could be heard by Rob upstairs. Whenever we visited, the best I could hope for was a hand job or a little oral – and no moaning allowed!
That night, Val was all over me. She really wanted it bad, something out of character for her. Her
very
hot kisses had an absolutely frantic quality, and with no prompting from me, she soon slid down my chest and had my cock in her mouth. Her excuse was "horny dream" that had gotten her all hot and bothered. I couldn't manage to cum because of the booze, but she further surprised me by having a huge orgasm very quickly – and never made a peep about the squeaking springs
or
moaning. After we were done, she rolled over and fell into a deep sleep.
On the ride home the next day, Val remained quiet until I felt like I had to find out what was bothering her. I didn't want to have my friendship with Robbie causing problems between my wife and me. I thought that maybe I could talk to him if they had argued.
Val stuck with "nothing's wrong" for at least an hour of my asking on and off. Finally, after we'd stopped for some lunch, she started to talk. It hadn't been an argument between Robbie and her. It had been something much more.
"You know how Robbie was complaining about the fact that he didn't get out much?" she asked.
"He said a lot more to me in private," I confirmed. "He was telling me that he hasn't gotten laid since Fran left. That's over two years!"
"I know."
"What? Knew that it has been two plus years since Fran, or about him not getting laid?" I teased.
Val looked out the side window. "About not getting laid," she answered softly.
"Robbie talked to you about that?" This really surprised me. Rob and Val never talked about those sorts of things. He innately knew that it would be out of bounds with her, I guess.
Val kept her head turned away. "Robbie and I talked a lot while you were out yesterday. A lot."
"That's good."
She was silent for a minute or two. "Actually, Mike, there's more, and I had decided that I wouldn't tell you, but I've been sitting here feeling horrible about keeping something from you. I just don't want to break up your friendship with Robbie."
"What is it?"
"Well, Robbie made a pass at me."
It came out all in a rush and I could tell that it had cost her a lot to say it. Val knew the way I felt about her, and also about Rob.
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
"What is there to say? He came on to me."
"Look, Val, I want to know exactly what happened. You're my wife and he's my oldest friend."
Val was quiet for a good 5 minutes before she finally began to speak quietly. "We were talking and we'd had a bit to drink, and well, you know, he started telling me things."
"Like what?"
"Like how lonely he's been, and how lucky you are to have someone, someone like me."
