Words and Actions

TRUE LOVE

Robert Edwards was a quiet, studious kid in college. Driven by hormones, yet terminally polite, he found himself caught between the normal need for sexual gratification and the desire not to appear pushy or demanding. In short, he was a virgin into his Junior year of University. He made due with the time honored practice of manual gratification and soldiered on as best as he could until he met Emily.

Emily Andrews was a sweet, oval faced girl with sandy hair, full lips, and clear blue eyes. Her breasts were magnificent, her hips a wonder, and the way she walked started Robert's dick thinking of wonderful things. When he met Emily in college, he knew she was the woman for him. He knew it from her beauty, her intelligence, and from the fact that she fucked him on the second date.

What she saw in the lanky fellow with glasses and the demeanor of a history professor wasn't clear. At least, Robert never figured it out, but there must have been something because they were married six months later and began a life of what truly was marital bliss.

Three children, four houses, two career changes and early retirement left them alone with the kids either out living on their own or in college and able to enjoy each other in a way they hadn't been able to in years. They both moved about the house less than clothed but more than naked. They often fucked in the kitchen and in the back yard. Life was good.

But, even when life was good, there were times between the good times when life was a bit boring. Emily didn't expect him to garden with her. In fact, she didn't want him to. It was her private time, she told him. And, when she was reading a book, she didn't want to be disturbed. That was all right. There had to be boundaries so they wouldn't grow tired of each other.

Robert read books and watched baseball on TV. He got his news from the Internet. And, soon, he got other things there as well. Oh, yes, he reacquainted himself fully with masturbation after only intermittent events over most of his married life. He loved sex, but, in lieu of that, he loved masturbation.

He found quickly that online movies weren't much good for jerking off. He'd sit at the computer table with his hand in his pants and watch the video, but when he heard his wife approaching, he had to kill the sound and switch to something benign as he released his dick. He wasn't really trying to hide his activity (their sex life hadn't suffered a bit, after all) but he didn't relish the thought of being caught, either. He felt rather embarrassed about playing with himself. A man his age . . .

Over the course of their varied and happy sex life, they had never discussed masturbation. He assumed she did it, and knew she assumed the same about him. A couple times, when she was having her period, she'd said, "I'm sorry, honey. I'm really not up to it tonight. Why don't you just go off in the bathroom and take care of yourself? Give me a couple more days."

He usually did as directed, and life went on, but he had often wanted to ask her to come and watch him. He never dared say that, however, because masturbation was a private thing and it was supposed to be embarrassing to be seen.

Now, in retirement, he found privacy to be the same issue it had been way back when his mother would knock at the bathroom door and inquire about his health. But then he found online fiction.

Online sex didn't need to be graphic. In fact, after finding a suitable site, he found that the written word was even more exciting than photographs or movies. And it had the benefit of looking benign at first glance. "What are you doing dear?" "Oh, nothing. Just reading the news."

Erotic fiction was his new retirement friend. And, while they had sex two or three times a week, he masturbated nearly every day. Not bad for a 54 year old man. Not bad at all.

PRIVATE TIME

The doorbell rang.

Robert hurried to answer, knowing that it would be their down the block neighbor, Sally. She and Emily were going out to update their wardrobes that afternoon.

Sally was a voluptuous, bleached blonde of about 38 who was blessed with curves on her curves, a round, baby doll face and green eyes with a seemingly permanent carnal look in them. Her married name actually was Sally Simpson. When her husband was killed in an on the job accident, the insurance and the settlement with the company paid for her house and guaranteed that she needn't worry about college for her children. So she stayed on as a secretary for a construction firm for her daily needs and otherwise enjoyed a pleasant life with her two teen-age children.

#

The only problem with Sally's life was that she wasn't getting laid often enough. That was a bit of information that Emily had passed on to Robert in mid coitus one night a couple months back.

"Sally's not getting enough sex," she said, her body rocking in time with his movement inside her. Her breasts were sliding on her chest in the erratic little circles that Robert loved to watch while slamming his seven inch cock into her receptive body. "She needs to get laid."

"It's easy to get laid," he said between gasping breaths. "But if she wants to get married, that's a different thing.

"Just laid," Emily said. "Turn me over, big boy. Slam that big thing home from behind."

After flipping his wife over and entering her hot, wet tunnel again, Robert said. "Tell her just to go down to one of the better bars. Plenty of guys would fuck her."

Emily moaned, rubbing her clit in time with his urgent thrusts. "She hates condoms," she panted in an increasingly high pitched voice. "Wants someone she knows is clean and fixed."

Robert slammed his cock deep in his wife's cunt and held it there. "Good luck with that one," he said. He swatted her ass once, and she moaned in pleasure, then he began pounding himself into her again.

Emily's orgasm hit hard and fast, exploding through her body until all she could to was lie on her stomach and quiver. Robert remained over her, his cock ready over her butt while he waited to see if it was her mouth or her ass that she would offer to him tonight. After the orgasm she'd just had, her pussy was sated. She rolled and sat, grinning up at him, and then took his cock into her mouth, stroking him slowly and running her tongue around the bulbous head of his cock in her mouth.

He was nearly there, and about to warn her of the impending blast, when she pulled back, still stroking, and said, "Would you fuck Sally if she asked you?"

"Huh?" he said, taken off guard by the question. His body knew the answer, however, and his dick twitched from the condition that Emily called "normal hard" up to "extra hard" just at the sound of those words.

"That's a trick question, right?" he asked.

"No." Emily stopped moving her hand on his penis, looking up at him thoughtfully. "I just want to see what a man thinks about her. I mean, she doesn't turn me on at all. Does she have a chance of getting laid out there in the big, bad world?"

"Of course she'll get laid," he said, feeling his cock beginning to soften and wishing she'd get back to the matter at hand. "Tell her to just go to a bar alone and she'll walk out with a dick in her hand every time."

"But, would you fuck her?" Emily asked again.

"I'm not walking into that one," he replied.

"Okay, I'll put it like this. If you answer me honestly I'll let you cum in my mouth, and I'll swallow it. If you don't, you'll have to settle for a hand job."

"Yeah, I'd fuck her," he said. "I'd love to slam against that bubble butt of hers and let her smother me with those huge tits. Is that what you want to hear?"

Emily grinned up at him. "A little more than I wanted to hear, but, yeah, thanks."

Just telling her that had gotten him hard again, and the movement of her hands and mouth when she returned to sucking him took him over the top quickly. Moments later he was holding her head in both hands and standing with his own head back while a thin whine emerged from his opened mouth. He shot spurt of spurt of hot cum into his wife's perfect mouth. It was so much that she had to take him out and pump some of his goo onto her face in order to accommodate it.

When he had finished, she smiled up at him, a line of cum running down her cheek from below her right eye, and opened her mouth to let him see load on her tongue. Then she swallowed, and one of the few sexual fantasies he had left was fulfilled.

"Gee," she said. "That wasn't so bad. I actually kinda liked it."

They both fell on the bed laughing, and their discussion of Sally's sex life was finished.

But, ever since that night, Robert couldn't see Sally without thinking of her and her search for a disease free man who'd had a vasectomy. And he couldn't help imagining her naked and lying with her legs apart on his bed. He couldn't help but hear her saying, "Fuck me, Bob."

#

"Hi, Bob," Sally said when he opened the door. As usual, she paused and gave him the same once-over she gave all men, smiling as though he might get lucky. "Emily ready?"

"Just a second," he replied as he ushered her in. As usual, he walked behind her and enjoyed the bounce of her butt when she walked.

A moment later, Emily came downstairs and kissed his cheek, saying, "I'll probably be late. Six or so, I suppose."

"I'll find something to occupy my time," he said, and wondered why Sally seemed to be concealing a laugh when he did. "Shop carefully," he said, swatting her butt as she turned to go. "Have fun."

"You have fun, too," she said, turning her head to smile at him as she walked out the door. "Enjoy your privacy."

He could hear Sally laughing with her small, little girl laugh as they walked out to her car.

Oh, he would enjoy his privacy, and his plans were such that he didn't even wonder what she meant when she told him to enjoy it. He didn't care at all why Sally was giggling.

Robert returned to his book and finished the chapter he was reading in his book and then put it aside. He stretched comfortably and then stood and walked over to the computer table and switched the machine on. As he waited for it to boot, he unbuttoned his shirt and laid it aside on the arm of the couch. He sat and removed his stockings and then stood again to drop his slacks to the floor.

Six o'clock or so? It was only noon now, so he didn't have to hurry one bit.

He removed his underwear and dropped it beside the computer chair, and then he went to the bathroom and took his damp towel down from where he'd hung it over the shower curtain rod. He carried the towel to the bedroom and got a bottle of Astroglide out of the drawer where it lay beside the fake cock he loved to watch Emily use on herself and the handcuffs that neither of them had ever quite warmed to. He carried the lubricant and towel to the kitchen and got a can of Coke from the fridge. Finally, totally equipped, he carried everything out to the living room and sat at the computer.

He logged on and opened one of his favorite author's story listings. He was on chapter three of a series and went directly to it and began reading where he had left off.

As she regarded herself in the mirror over her dresser Laura felt movement against her back. Faint at first, it felt like someone gently sliding a hand up from her hip to her shoulder. And then two hands were rubbing her shoulders.

Hands were sliding over her thighs to accompany those on her shoulders. A kiss on the small of her back and tongue licking up her spine followed by a shiver inducing kiss on the back of her neck. The feelings grew more substantial now, fingers manipulating and caressing her. Lips on her cheeks, her nipples and back. A multitude of hands moving down to her groin, seeming to melt into one hand and then separate into many again until it felt as though every inch of her body was being massaged and caressed.

Laura was dimly conscious of collapsing to her knees on the floor as moisture spread against her new thong. Her breasts were pressed together, lips suckling at her nipples as she curled down against her knees, head on the floor and felt her legs spreading and fingers probing gently within her labia. Rolling to her back, stretching her legs in response to the feelings of pressures unseen, she let the sensations roll over her.

She reveled in the feelings of a cock sliding into her pussy, another entering her from behind and yet another rubbing her cheek and teasing at her lips. She gave in to the orgasms that rushed through her body too fast to count. She just let the feelings roll over her until it was a blur, a seamless experience without beginning or end.

It was a fantasy about telepathy. A fantasy that allowed his mind to drift through the possibilities as he read with his cock rising and falling, and his hand occasionally stroking it in response to particular good passages. He had time, after all.

"Laura, I..." Sue Davis stood shocked into silence as she looked at her friend. After a moment staring at the naked and disheveled woman before her, she said, "We were worried. What are you...?"

Laura smiled and grabbed Sue by her blouse, pulling her into the apartment. "Boy, am I glad you're here," she said.

Laura kissed Sue, pushing her back against the door and reaching down to grasp the woman's butt and pull her tightly to her. "Fuck me," she whispered in Sue's ear. "I want to fuck you."

"Laura?"

"Shut up and fuck me!" Laura insisted, laughing as she pulled Sue into the room and began tearing at her clothing.

A look between desire and fear flooded Sue's face as she tried to keep Laura from tearing her blouse. She didn't seem to know what to do at first, but desire won out, and she pulled her own blouse open. Buttons flew everywhere.

Laura pushed her back over the arm of the couch and pulled her skirt down and away. She removed Sue's pantyhose and underwear in one overpowering tug. She pulled Sue's left leg up over her shoulder and dropped her face onto her friend's shaved mound.

She wanted to see what she was tasting, what she was feeling. She wanted to fuck rather than submit to being fucked. She wanted to pleasure this woman as completely as she'd been pleasured all night. And she wanted Sue to pleasure her in return.

Laura wanted everything, and she wanted it right now.

Oh, yes, that was nice. He knew he wouldn't stop with this story when he finished it. His favorite stories were the ones where wives screwed their husband's friends or co-workers, usually while the husband watched. He loved to read those stories and imagine Emily doing that. He loved to imagine himself watching.

It took time to find a story that really got him hard. It had to at least be a little bit plausible, after all. But, when he found it, he settled down to stroking himself in earnest as he let the words on screen flow through his mind and down to his rigid cock.

He loved the feeling of his cock in his hand—hard yet yielding—and loved running his thumb over the purple glans to coat it with pre-cum while his other hand juggled his own balls. Self love was a fine way to while away an hour or two.

And that was what he had just done, not really getting down to business until he'd read through five stories and started a new series. He hadn't been worried about the time, and so he paid no attention and was only just involved in hardcore, full-lube masturbation when his wife walked in at 2:25.

"Well," she said. "That's a pretty sight."

Robert snapped up in the chair and spun to look at the woman approaching him across the room. He tried to stammer out an explanation, but his mouth was suddenly dry and inadequate to the task. All he could do was stare at his wife in embarrassment as his cock wilted in his hand.

"Oh," Emily said then, worry etching her features. "I didn't mean to make you stop. I just, well, I didn't know what you were doing until I well into the room. Sorry."

She stood for a moment with her hands clasped before her looking truly sorry for disturbing the behavior for which he expected that she'd make him feel sorry.

"What?" he said, turning to kill the browser.

"Leave it," she told him, quickly. "Wait just a moment. Don't move."

She hurried out to the dining room and returned with one of the straight back chairs, which placed beside the desk facing Robert and then sat on it.

"There," she said, laughing at the confusion that still marked her husband's face. Then she uttered a truly magical phrase. "May I watch?" she said. "Please?"

"I, well, I, sure," he said. His heart was still hammering from being surprised like that, but he was recovering now. "It'll take awhile to get it up now."

"Sorry," she said. "I could help, but then it wouldn't be masturbation, would it?"

"No." He laughed then. "It wouldn't."

"Since you're probably wondering about it, I'll tell you now. No, I wasn't leading you on about returning a six so I could surprise you like this. One of Sally's kids had some kind of emergency, and she had to get back early. I assumed that you going to whack off while I was gone. I just figured you'd be done by now."

"You did? Really? How did you know?"

"We use the same computer, silly," she said, watching his cock shrink and grow according the topic of conversation. "I was glad when you stopped looking at the free porn sites and got into literature. That's how I like to do it, you know. All those bodice rippers I read over the years were only to get me wet and ready. Whether I was ready for your cock or my own hand was determined by circumstance. I love that web site now. I've become a regular reader when you're not around, you know."

"Really?" He was hard again, but the oil had grown tacky and he paused to apply a bit more before resuming his stroking motion. "This is so strange."

"Why? Don't you think I get horny?"

"No, I just think it's strange that you knew and didn't say anything about it."

"God, honey, why would I want to ruin your fun? It's not like you were letting me down, you know."

"Well, I guess."

"Okay, pump it for me mister. Do it just the way you like to do it and try to pretend I'm not here. Get to work now."

Robert returned his concentration to the computer screen and read about a woman seducing her husband's co-worker and his wife and then surprising her husband with a nice little orgy for his birthday. It was a pleasant story, with just enough detail. Glancing at Emily, he thought he should pick up the pace if possible, so he went to one of his truly favorite stories and began to read about the young wife who made a foolish sports bet with her husband and had to pay it off the most embarrassing, and eventually fulfilling, way possible.

He wasn't sure why he liked it, but it was always his go-to story when he wanted a quick squirt. It didn't let him down today. Of course, two hours of heightened arousal didn't hurt either.

"Oh, oh, oh yeah," he said quietly, stroking himself and sliding down lower on the chair. "Oh, this is it," he told her. He wasn't looking at her then. His eyes were on the head of his cock as his hand moved up and down the oiled shaft, covering the glans on the upstroke the way his foreskin would have done if he weren't circumcised. His breath came in short gasps and then in ragged moan as ropes of jism began to shoot out of his cock and onto his stomach and chest.

When he was done, he held himself like that a moment, letting his penis shrink within his cum spewed hand while regaining his breath. He rose just enough to take the bath towel from the table and hold it atop the mess he'd made of himself. Then he stood and looked at Emily.

"Well," he said. "That's it. The demonstration is over."

"Nice," she said, watching as he walked toward the bathroom. She stepped in to look at the screen a moment and then followed him. "Loving Wives?" she asked, standing in the bathroom doorway as he started the shower.