The best way I can imagine to tell this story is to just jump right in. I'm not certain how it is all going to turn out, but it's been a real turn on so far. It could end up being not only fun, but very profitable for all involved. With the possible exception of Rosie. But that's a thought for later.
Rosie and I have been married nearly twenty-two years now. Our sex life was pretty hot for the first few years - she had a beautiful face and an above-average body. I'd been in three relationships before that, but I'd never been so completely stunned by someone's appearance.
We met at a friend's house. It was a completely coincidence. I'd stopped by Deb's house to pick up a pair of gloves I'd left there the night before and Rosie was sitting on the sofa watching television. I glanced into the room, our eyes met, and - well you can guess the rest. Her eyes were the kind that just grabbed you and pulled you in from the very first glance. We were married less than a year later. Everything about her was wonderful. Intelligent, strong-willed, career-minded, sensitive, and, above all, ready to get the hell out of Ohio and move to New York City.
The sex was great right from the beginning. I was into oral sex and light spanking, she was into candlelight and dirty talk. We learned from each other, nudging each other along slowly, adding more and more to our repertoire as we got to know each other better. It was amazing.
And the night life in New York City gave us all kinds of additional opportunities. Skimpy dresses at nightclubs to show her off, high-roller meals in expensive restaurants where we could play footsies under the table and fool around in the elevators. It was amazing.
And, it didn't last.
About five years into the marriage, things started cooling down. No seven-year-itch, it was something more subtle. We tried a few things to spice it back up, including videos, dirty stories, and even a few stabs at phone sex while I was on the road, but nothing took. Nothing turned up the heat.
There was one exception. There was a guy I worked with who we'd met at several social functions. He was divorced and somehow gravitated toward her from the first time we were all in a room together. With just a little nudging from me, she let him seduce her. She came home the next morning completely exhausted and walking on a cloud. I was torn between being jealous and being relieved that at least *something* was getting her turned on again. We spent nearly three hours in bed ourselves that morning. I'd never had sloppy seconds but if this was what it was like, I could get used to it real fast.
And I did. We both recognized how much it added to our sex lives and she screwed him nearly a dozen times in the following three weeks. Mornings, afternoons, nights, whenever he could (pardon the pun) fit it in.
The three of us even 'kind of' spent a weekend together in Las Vegas. We rented two rooms on the same floor. Bob took one and I took the other. Rosie made her way back and forth down the hall every few hours, getting very little sleep the entire weekend. It was completely incredible, both of us felt like teenagers again - all erotic energy and laughter.
But, that didn't last either. Of all things, Bob broke it off. He felt that there was something sick about it and that it offended his sense of morality. Here he was, fucking a married woman, and he got on his high horse about morality. We never saw him again and that was fine with us.
However, we never picked up that energy again. There had been some chemistry between Rosie and Bob that never sparked again with anyone else.
The years went past, jobs changed and we moved back to the Midwest. We'd occasionally have perfunctory missionary-style sex, but we'd flat-lined on passion. Rosie started gaining weight, eventually settling at a comfortable fifty-pounds-over. Her face was still a tantalizing balance between beautiful and sexy, but it sat above a double-chin that was hard to ignore.
All of which is prolog to what happened earlier tonight.
I'm writing this at two in the morning, sitting in an easy chair in a dark living room. I just finished my second Scotch and am trying to make sense of everything spinning around in my head. Rosie's asleep upstairs, exhausted. She spent the last three hours crying her eyes out and explaining herself to me over and over. This was after...well, let me start at the beginning.
I came home from work at around seven. The front room was dark, which was a little unusual. When I opened the door, I heard soft jazz playing and saw the glow of candlelight from the dining room. Wondering what might be going on, I set my briefcase on the floor, slipped off my shoes, and walked into the hallway.
"Is that you?" I heard Rosie's voice ask softly.
"Yeah," I said quietly.
"Come on in and relax," she said.
I walked down the hallway and into the dining room. There were a dozen candles situated around the room, a bottle of my favorite red wine and two glasses in the middle of the table. The table was bare, just the bottle, the glasses, and a white linen tablecloth.
"Would you like some?" a voice asked. I looked up into the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen and saw Rosie. She was wearing a loose white t-shirt that hung just below her belly. It was tied at the waist with a wide black sash. Her hair was slicked back in a look I'd mentioned to her several times before that I found very sexy. She was wearing several golden chains around her neck and a dozen or so small golden bracelets on each wrist. Her eyes and lips were both done in deep burgundy. I smiled a big, stupid grin. My Jezebel fantasy. My gypsy queen. A fantasy we hadn't touched in nearly twenty years. I felt my cock spring to life immediately.
The circuits in my brain blew. I nearly ran across the room and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, our mouths opening, tongues jutting in and out, tasting each other, mouths sucking, biting, making silly and absurd wet sounds as our lips slid back and forth across each other. I felt her hand up and down my thigh, then it was unzipping me and she was reaching inside my pants and stroking me gently, slowly, remembering what I liked and executing it perfectly.
I reached around and cupped her ass with my hands but she pushed them away. I smiled and slid them up the front of the shirt, maybe she wanted nipple play. Again, she pushed them away, only comfortable when my arms were around her neck or waist. Meanwhile, her mouth and hands worked eagerly at me, mouth on my mouth, neck, cheek, ears, hands on my cock, my balls, palms rubbing hard over my nipples.
"Fuck me," she whispered, pulling the hem of the shirt up around her waist. She leaned back against the table, unbuttoned my pants and slid them down around my ankles, pulled me into her with one quick plunge, wrapped her legs around my back, feet pushing hard at the small of my back, hands continuing to defend herself against me touching anything but the table.
