This is my submission for the
Literotica Halloween 2020 Story Contest
.
It could've easily fitted into Group Sex, but wound up here in Mature instead.
Please enjoy!
+
14 February
Logan floated half-dozing in a sea of contentment.
He gradually became aware of Connie's warm breath on his neck, of the weight of her head on his shoulder, of her waist under his left hand.
"Wow!" his wife breathed softly. "That was pretty amazing. Glad to see the old boy hasn't lost his touch."
Her hand ran over his chest, down over his stomach and tenderly grasped his softening manhood.
He brought his free hand up off the mattress beside him, petted her hair, tenderly held her head to him.
"We might need to practise more," he said. "Just so we get it right."
Connie chucked softly beside him in the dim light.
"Any 'righter', stud, and this little girl's going to have a heart attack."
Logan felt her cool fingers weigh his balls, tug fondly on his now-limp organ. He smiled, both from the physical pleasure of it and from the knowledge she did it
because
it pleased him. He was, he knew, a very lucky man in so many ways.
"I love you," he said softly. There was a slightly firmer tug in response.
The two lay in silence for some minutes.
"I did mean it," Connie whispered eventually.
"Mean it?" he questioned, sleepily.
"What I said."
The grey-haired man was silent for a few seconds.
"I'm sorry, Princess, but I don't really remember. I was kind of occupied."
His wife again chuckled. She knew her man, was utterly confident in his love, treasured his strengths, tolerated his minor failings.
"Yes, Logan, you sure were. I mean what I said about another."
"Another. Another... person?" His voice was cautious.
"Yes."
"You mean when we talked about a third person joining us... here."
"Yes."
Logan sensed that this was important. He stretched his back, tried to shake off some of his happy lassitude.
Pulling his arm out from under her, he rolled over so that he could look her in the eyes.
"You're serious, Connie?"
"I think so. Is that OK?"
He blinked in the dim light, paused before replying.
She knows it's OK,
he thought to himself. He wondered why she was raising it now, dismissed the question as unimportant.
"Well, yes. Yes, it is. Did you have anybody in mind?"
Her blonde hair covered her face as she snuggled back into his shoulder. A slim finger trailed the length of his chest before she spoke again.
"No. Nobody in particular. But, Logan...?"
"Mmm?" Fully awake now, he stayed very still, waiting.
"Logan, I think you'd prefer another woman, yes?"
"Yes." His voice was soft, but firm. Logan was pretty old-fashioned in some ways, Connie knew.
"I don't think I'd want a stranger," she continued. "No escort service roulette."
"No."
"Somebody single. Not married. Too complicated."
"True," he said, letting her lead the discussion. Now that Connie had suddenly broached the idea, he didn't want to derail anything.
"Then?"
"I guess we'll have to keep our eyes open, Connie." He thought for a moment, decided to duck, just a little. "Can you think of anybody from the studio you find attractive?"
"I'll think on it."
She lifted her head, rolled half onto her husband, one soft thigh over his groin. She kissed him gently. Logan brushed the hair from her face.
"You're pretty amazing, girl."
"I love you, Logan."
"I know." Her head lowered to his chest, rose and fell with his breathing.
He thought for a moment.
"Connie?"
"Mmm?"
"Um... Have you ever...?"
There was a soft giggle from his shoulder.
"Been with a girl?" she asked.
"Mm-hmm."
"Once. In college. Tina and I had had too much to drink and thought it might be fun."
"Tina?"
"Roommate. Long gone. We woke up on Saturday morning in her bed. We were embarrassed, I guess, but decided to treat it like it was an experiment and didn't get dressed until Monday morning. It was fun, very different, but we both decided in the end we liked boys better. Old history."
"Oh. Did..."
"Yes, Logan, she had nice boobs. OK?"
"Not what I was asking."
She tugged at his balls.
"No, but you were thinking it."
"Not true," he said, love in his voice.
"Liar." There was love in hers, too.
The man lay silent for a time, then, "Connie? Why now?"
"Things change, Logan. I'm different now. Society's different. And it's been what? 30 years? I'm in a whole new space. I'm light-years beyond being an 18-year-old theatre arts student. I've been a bride and a mom and I've liked both and I love being married to you and I love you being in bed with me. I'm just curious again."
She rolled up on one elbow, her eyes fixed on his.
"Also," she said, rolling his testicles fondly in her hand, "I have a guy I'm pretty sure would like to try it, too."
She smiled and Logan's mind flew back to the first time he'd seen her smile. It had made his heart sing.
It still did.
He pulled her head gently down for a soft, extended kiss.
16 April
"Are you OK?" Connie asked the thin stylist. Paula was so very obviously
not
OK, but Connie didn't want to seem too nosy.
In the mirror in front of her chair, she could see a hint of tears in Paula's eyes as, silently, she continued to trim Connie's hair.
The snip-snip-snip of the scissors slowed, stopped entirely.
"No," she whispered. "No, it's not OK." Tears began to flow in earnest.
Sheila, the salon owner, appeared out of nowhere.
"Is there a problem?" she asked. There was an odd tone in her voice.
"No, I don't think so," Connie said, uncertain as to what was happening.
"Paula?" the owner said.
The thin woman didn't reply, but the silent tears redoubled.
Sheila took her by the shoulders, turned her and gently pushed her away from the chair. "Go," she said. "Staff room -- take a break."
Paula slowly shuffled away. Connie thought her gait looked like a zombie from some second-rate movie -- shambling, loose, ill-coordinated.
"I'm sorry about that," Sheila said, a thin smile on her face.
"It's OK. She's obviously having a bad day and she was almost finished, anyway."
"More like a bad year," Sheila said.
She picked up the scissors Paula had just laid down. "Here, I'll finish this for you."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
"I don't think there's anything anybody can do to help, thanks. This has been a long time coming, but I promise she won't ruin your next appointment, Connie."
"What do you mean?" Connie would have twisted to look Sheila, but one doesn't do that when somebody is working inches from your ear with sharp scissors. Sheila wasn't meeting her eyes in the mirror.
Eventually, their eyes did meet. Sheila paused, shrugged.
"Look, I feel sorry for her, but I'm running a business and she keeps falling apart on me. It upsets my customers. I've tried to help, but it's not working out."
"What's going on?"
"Man trouble, I guess you'd say. I shouldn't be saying anything, of course."
Connie felt something twist inside her. She too had had 'man trouble' before meeting Logan and knew how soul-sucking it could be.
"What's up?" she pressed.
"She's a really good stylist, but it's the usual crap," the woman said from behind her, scissors slowing down as she moved, assessed her efforts. "Her deadbeat boyfriend ran up a bunch of debt to feed his gambling habit. She threw him out, but she's a mess. Oh, and broke, 'cause he maxed out all her cards and she's about to be evicted. I've already advanced her wages, but enough is enough. We've had people from two collection agencies coming in here and that's just not acceptable!"
Connie closed her eyes. She'd been close to that, once; she still shuddered on occasion to think where -- or as what -- she might have ended up. Fortunately, an observant aunt had been pushy enough to overcome youthful pride.
She took a deep breath. "Sheila, I know she's been cutting my hair for years and she seems nice, but I need your opinion. What sort of person is she, deep down inside?"
Sheila put down the scissors, picked up a comb.
"She's nice as a person, like hardworking and really honest, too. It's a shame she had to wind up with Dane, right? I feel for her and, if things were different... well, things would be different, that's all I can say. As it is, today's her last day here, Connie. I'm really sorry you had to get involved."
Connie thought for a moment. "So, if she got her money problems sorted out, you'd keep her?"
Sheila's hands paused. Her eyes bored into Connie's in the mirror.
"Maybe. What are you saying?"