Music & Coffee

Where do I begin? I'm not even sure why I'm doing this to be honest, so I guess the best thing to do would be to start with the facts.

I'm a forty year-old married woman. I have one son who's eighteen and just recently started his freshman year at an out of state university. I've been married since I was twenty-one and I've never been with another man since. I live a quiet comfortable life. My husband is an executive at an oil company and as such is able to provide anything I need or want. Since I've been married, I've more or less been a homemaker, taking care of my son and trying to make my husband happy. Over that past several years though, trying to make my husband happy has been more and more difficult.

In the beginning our sex life was wonderful, and I couldn't have been happier or felt more fulfilled. I like to think my husband felt the same way. As our marriage went on, our sex life became more and more routine but was still satisfying in it's own way, at least to me. Sex didn't happen quite as often and wasn't quite as vigorous but when it did happen it was still good. For the past five years though, our sex life has been in a steady decline. Sex is rare. Once a month if I'm lucky, and nothing I seem to do makes any difference.

I don't really understand what happened. All I know is that I miss it and that I feel like I'm no longer desirable to my husband. I could understand it if I'd changed. If I'd put on forty pounds and stopped taking care of myself. But I haven't. Unlike a lot of other women who put on weight after they have children, I'm still the same small dress size I was when we married, and if anything I take better care of myself now then I did then. I have the money to get my hair and nails done and to buy clothes that I like to think my husband will find flattering and sexy. It doesn't seem to matter though, and if anything the harder I try to make myself attractive for him, the more distant he becomes.

I've often wondered if he's having an affair. I have no proof and only the anecdotal evidence of the decline in our sex life, but still I wonder. My husband does work long hours and he does travel a good bit, but he's done that throughout our entire marriage. Nothing has really changed, other than our sex life.

So I keep asking myself, what am I doing? Why am I even considering writing this? I can't quite put a finger on it. It just feels like it's something I have to do. It's kind of like talking to someone I guess, and that in it's own way is comforting, especially when there's not really a lot of people around that I can talk to.

Well here goes then.

The whole thing had been building over the course of a month or two. I first met Allen at the symphony. I enjoy the symphony very much and my husband and I usually buy season tickets. We typically go together but when he is out of town on business I will sometimes go by myself just to give me an excuse to get out of the house.

Our seats happened to be next to Allen's. The opening show of the new season is when I first noticed him. He was quite handsome, if in an odd sort of way. He wore a dark gray suit and a red tie. What first caught my eye was his height. He had to be a few inches over six feet, and being moderately short myself I've always had a eye for taller men. I think the size makes me feel more feminine. More demure.

I guessed he was in his mid-twenties. He had a slender build but it was difficult to make out more that that dressed in a suit as he was. His skin was fair and his hair was dark brown which he kept cut short and neatly combed. His eyes fascinated me and were I suppose what kept my interest. They were a mysterious shade of light green, bordering on blue, and they seemed to draw you in and make him stand out. Without the eyes, I'm sure I would have looked and wondered, but that would have probably been it.

As it was I found myself distracted throughout the concert, and even though my husband was sitting next to me I couldn't stop myself from glancing toward him and his eyes.

I wondered about him and what was he doing. Why was he here alone? I could tell he was a bit awkward and shy simply by the way he greeted me and my husband. He sheepishly said hello and then sat down next to me and didn't say a word the rest of the night.

Later on I found out that he was part of a singles club sponsored by the symphony. Its members buy season tickets and in return the symphony sponsors singles events before the show. It sounded like a good way to meet people with similar interests. I had just never heard of such a thing before.

So the first night the symphony ended and that was it. We didn't speak another word after the initial hello. Later that week though I found myself wondering about him, and what he was doing there. I kept thinking about his eyes, and how awkward he seemed, but mysterious all at the same time.

When the next show came around, my husband was out of town. I debated or not whether I should go without him. I thought about Allen, but not knowing his situation at the time I seriously doubted he would be there, and even if I knew for sure he would be, I doubt that would have swayed my decision either way. In the end I decided to go alone as it seemed a much better option than sitting home alone watching television.

When I got to my seat I was surprised to see Allen sitting in the same seat as before, dressed in the same gray suit. Once again, he awkwardly said hello as I took my seat. Without my husband though, I found it awkward to sit next to him alone in silence. I asked him a few mundane questions before the show started and he seemed like a very nice young man. He was still a bit awkward, but in an endearing sort of way, and with his eyes he began to capture my attention.

After the performance was over, we ended up walking next to each other as we filed out of the concert hall. I was walking several steps behind him and found myself watching him as he walked. He towered over me and I'm sure we were quite an interesting sight.

I hadn't really planned it, and it almost happened on instinct I think, but as we were filing out of the doors and into the street, I mentioned to him that it was still early and asked if he wanted to join me for a cup of coffee. I couldn't believe I did it, and I wanted to take it back almost as soon as I said it. He looked at me rather strangely when I asked, but then smiled sheepishly and said okay.

We ended up drinking coffee in a shop down the street for about an hour and a half. We had a good conversation about all kinds of things. He told me about the singles club with the symphony, I found out his name was Allen, that he was twenty-five and worked as an accountant in an accounting firm downtown. He was very shy and I had to work at drawing things out of him. At the same time, he was very much a gentleman. Very polite, respectful, and courteous. It was a nice evening, and I think we both left with a smile on our faces.

Later on that week, I found myself thinking about him more and more. Whenever I had a free moment, my thoughts seemed to wander to him. I found myself looking forward to the next concert, and even hoped my husband would be out of town. By the time the next performance rolled around though, my husband was in town and he accompanied me to the show. Allen was there as usual, but beyond the initial hello he didn't say another word. I found myself sneaking glances at him throughout the performance. I was a bit disappointed that we didn't really get a chance to talk, but if anything his seeming indifference made me even more attracted to him.

I don't know if it was the fact that my husband was there or what, but he barely even acknowledged me, even though we had spent nearly two hours alone together talking in a coffee shop the week before.

Throughout the next week I found myself thinking about him even more. He seemed so mysterious and it bothered me that he didn't say more than hello. I became more and more anxious as the next concert approached wondering what would happen. I really didn't know what I wanted to happen, all I know is that my mind seemed transfixed on this twenty five year-old boy.

When I found out my husband would be away during the next performance, my heart literally skipped a beat. The performance was on a Thursday evening and I immediately made an appointment to get my hair and nails down that morning. As Thursday approached, my anticipation grew. I don't know why, but it felt like I was going out on a date. I guess I was so anxious because it was something I hadn't done in over twenty years. That evening I took over two hours to get ready. I made sure I looked as perfect as I could. I wanted to look sexy and alluring. It turned me on to think of a twenty-five year-old boy as being interested in me. Whether he really was or not, I had no idea. I ended up wearing a sexy black cocktail dress that accentuated my cleavage. Underneath it all I wore black bikini panties, a garter belt, and black thigh high stockings. Dressing like that made me feel sexy and gave me confidence that I hadn't felt in years.

The evening went much as before. As I arrived he smiled and said hello. I could see him looking at me in my dress, and I was beyond flattered when he complimented me on the way I looked. Before the show, we chatted about a variety of things. Afterwards we went to the same coffee shop and talked for another hour. I'm not sure he felt any attraction, but I certainly felt plenty towards him.

For the rest of that night, and all of the next day I found myself daydreaming, and thinking about him. I tried to keep myself occupied with other things, but it was no use. I couldn't get Allen out of my head. I knew my husband would be away until next Tuesday, and my mind became consumed with thoughts of lust.

Early in the evening, I found my fingers trembling as I dialed Allen's number. We had politely exchanged numbers before, more out of courtesy than anything else, and I had never expected to use it. We had joked that we would call each other when one of needed a good cup of coffee. When he picked up the phone I think he was very surprised that it was me. I told him that my husband was still out of town and that I was bored. I asked if he would be interested in getting another cup of coffee.

It all started out innocent enough. We drank coffee and sat and talked as we had done before. I think we were both having fun, and after we had been there for about an hour, I asked him if he wanted to go back to my house and split a bottle of wine. I honestly had no idea what I was doing or what I had in mind. I was surprised when he said okay, not having any idea how we would interpret the invitation.

He followed me over to my house in his car. As I drove, I managed to convince myself that it was all innocent flirtation, and that we were just going to talk and split a bottle of wine. He knew I was married and surely he couldn't think anything else. When we got there I opened a bottle of wine and we sat on the couch and talked as we drank. This went on for about an hour, and the more wine I drank, the more aroused I seemed to get. I found myself almost unconsciously flirting with him. Not with my talking so much, but in the way I moved.

Allen finished his second glass of wine and leaned over to set the empty glass on the coffee table. He looked so good as his body stretched to reach the table. My mind became consumed with lust, and as he started to recline back, I asked him to stand up. By then my entire body was tingling. I think his entire body froze when her heard me, but without another word he was standing up in front of me as I had asked.

I was beyond the point of no return. It was like I was on autopilot and my mind was foggy with desire. I found myself asking him to take off his shirt. He did so slowly, and as the buttons became undone and the shirt slipped off his shoulders I felt an incredible rush run through my body. Here was this handsome, twenty-five year old boy standing in front of me, doing exactly what I told him to do. The feeling of power and control was overwhelming and fed my desire even more.

Next I asked him to take off his shoes, and then his socks. Each time he did exactly as I said and before long was standing in front of me in nothing but khaki pants and whatever he had on underneath. I could tell he was extremely uncomfortable, but I could also tell he would do anything that I asked. I just sat there sipping on my wine as I stared at him while he fidgeted uncomfortably.

Then I told him to take off his pants. I don't think I'll ever forget watching him as he stood before me and slowly took off his belt, unfastened his zipper, and then slid his pants down over his hips. It was quite a sight to see him standing in the center of the room almost completely naked. He was wearing plain white briefs and is was obvious that he was aroused. That fact turned me on even more. I couldn't get over how good he looked standing there. With my husband I would never be turned on to see him standing in front of me in his briefs, but with Allen I could literally feel the goose bumps grow on my skin.

I could tell he was even more uncomfortable now, and when I told him to take off his underwear, he hesitated briefly, before doing exactly as I asked. He looked around before he did so, almost as if he thought someone else might be watching. I could feel the wetness grow between my legs as the white fabric slid over his hips to reveal the rest of his body. As the underwear slid off, he tried to cover himself as best as he could, but it was no use.

It was such a turn-on to have a young man completely naked in my living room with his cock at full attention. I'm not sure I've ever been quite that aroused. Having him do exactly as I asked only served to heighten the temptation. As he stood there totally naked I asked him to spin around so I could see his body from every angle. Once again he did exactly what I asked without so much as a word.

I have to admit I was a bit disappointed though. The reason he first caught my eye was because of his height and stature. In all my fantasies up until that point, I imagined him having a huge cock. My husband's cock was only average, and the idea of a man with a huge cock had always intrigued me. Not so much because of the pleasure associated with physical aspect of a big cock, but rather the idea of a big cock turned me on. Having a man with a big cock somehow felt empowering, it made me feel more feminine, and more desirable. Just the thought of a man with a huge cock wanting me, somehow made me crave it. Since he was so tall, in my fantasies with Allen I had always imagined that he had a huge cock, and that served to make me crave him even more.

Yet now here he was, rock hard and standing completely naked in front of me, and despite his height, it was obvious his cock was below average. It was certainly smaller than my husband's. Maybe it wasn't that small, but it did seem out of proportion with the rest of his body. Maybe that was why he seemed so uncomfortable.

Before I even realized what I was doing, I asked him to wrap his hand around his cock. I'm not sure why, but I guess instinctively I thought that would give me an idea of just how big it really was. I don't know why I was so fixated on the size. Here I had this virile young man naked in my living room and I was quibbling about his size. But I couldn't help it. I was in this strange state of intense arousal and deep concentration, and I found myself softly speaking my thoughts.

I said something like "Either your hands are bigger than my husband's, or your cock is smaller." I wanted to take it back the instant I realized I said it. I could tell it made him extremely embarrassed and uncomfortable, but to my complete and utter surprise he just stood there and took it. He didn't say a word, he just tried to cover himself as his eyes looked to the floor.

I couldn't believe I said that, the size didn't really matter to me. It was more of a fantasy than anything else and I didn't really believe it made that much difference. I got up from the couch and walked over to him. I stood directly in front of him and reached out and began to caress his chest with one hand, as the other slid down across his belly and toward his stiff cock. I wrapped my hand around his cock and stroked it gently. A rush came over me, it was the first new hard cock I felt in twenty years, and touching it surprised me.

I told him how hard it felt, and told him my husband's cock never got this hard. That seemed to ease his embarrassment and make him a bit more comfortable. In an instant, my hand was in his leading him up the stairs to the bedroom.

When we got to the bedroom, I sat of the edge of the bed and told him how my husband rarely ate me. Once again, I couldn't believe what I was blurting out, divulging intimate details about my sex life with my husband to Allen. I couldn't help it though. I'm not sure how it made Allen feel but he never said a word.

I have to admit his docile nature and his seeming willingness to do anything I told him was a huge turn on. I'd never been in that position before, and it was quite a novel and erotic feeling.

Before I knew it, I hiked my navy blue skirt up over my hips. Allen knew instantly what to do Without a sound he got down on his knees in front of me, put his thumbs up under my white bikini panties and then slid them down over my hips.

Before long his face was buried in my pussy. With my hips still hanging slightly over the edge of the bed, I leaned back and ran my fingers through his hair as I ate me. I felt amazingly good, and I found myself talking like his mother, telling him how good it felt and how good he was doing. Several times he buried his tongue deep inside me, causing my hips to buck and my leg to squeeze around his head. I'm not sure how long he ate me, but it was at least for thirty wonderful minutes.

The feeling of his tongue on my pussy was intense, but by that point I felt like I needed something inside of me. I gently stopped him, and motioned for him to get up on the bed. I had him lay on his back and before long I was straddling him. I grabbed his cock and guided it into my dripping wet pussy and slowly slid down. It felt so good I couldn't help but moan softly as his cock penetrated me. Slowly but surely I began to ride him. It was so incredibly erotic to watch Allen as I slid up and down my cock. His eyes were glazed over and his mouth hung open. I used my right hand to brace myself against his chest and used my left hand to play with my clit as I fucked him.

With my husband, I was so used to having to be quiet with my son in the house. I usually expressed my satisfaction with nothing but low, soft moans, and even now with the house empty, that's basically still all I did.

Allen, on the other hand, was completely different. He seemed out of his mind with pleasure and the sounds he made were incredibly erotic. A very intense combination of everything. Grunting. Moaning. Whimpering. Gasping. Groaning. It was like he was completely out of control.

It didn't take long. I felt his body tense in about two minutes after I started and his moans turned to a high pitched squeal. My eyes had been closed for a bit as I soaked in the pleasure, but as I could sense him cumming, I opened my eyes to watch. His eyes looked straight at me for the duration of his orgasm. His eyes looked like they were bulging out of his head as he gasped for air. I just kept sliding up and down his cock and watched him cum and continued riding him as long as his cock would let me.

When he was done and finally had caught his breath, I looked down at him and smiled. I think he was embarrassed that he hadn't lasted more than two minutes, but I didn't care. It was extremely erotic to know that I had caused that kind of reaction in him and had made him feel that good. As I slid his cock out of me, I stayed on top of him and caressed his chest. I told him my husband never came like that. That at most he grunted once or twice and that was it. I told him how erotic it was to make him cum like that and then be able to watch as he enjoyed myself so much.