While I was relieved – I loved Jake -- there was still a part of me that was disappointed I didn’t take the opportunity. Partly because I curious. Partly because I was tired of having to admit he was my “one and only.” Partly because every sex conversation Jake and I had revolved around the fact he’d been with many girls before me, while I had nothing to share, short of a personal critique. But mostly, I wanted to do it because I’d never been so visibly and sexually electrified by any man.
I could still conjure my body’s instant fascination with his crushing kiss and the force of his erection pressing on my stomach. I’d never really craved another man like this. Before Jake, I simply didn’t know sexual obsession, so my initial feelings for Jake were driven by more tender emotions. Since we’d been together, the most I’d ever really fantasized about another man was simply envisioning an illicit kiss after mild office flirtation – a fantasy that was easily squashed by logic and love.
But China Blue had gone far beyond daydream -- my desire was embodied, not spirit, and it was powerful, like a drug that was instantly addictive to my libido. My mouth went dry, envisioning if I’d slid to the floor, upzipping his pants, and taken his gigantic erection into my mouth. My memory conjured the musky taste of his mouth and donated it to the daydream, giving his cock the same delicious scent, while the feel of his firm, muscled arms gave rise to images of holding his taut, firm ass while I sucked him into ecstasy. Desperate to know all of me, he lifts me up onto the vanity counter, hiking back my skirt to expose my panty-less sex, and I tip my knees wide, urging him to plunge his way into me as hard and as fast and as silently as he can, while I kiss him again deeply on the mouth, letting him taste himself on my lips while my fingernails rake his ass. His thrusts penetrate the deepest recesses of me, hitting the G spot with deadly accuracy, causing audibles to escape my mouth, which he smothers with another kiss…
What the hell was I doing? I shook off the daydream once again and attempted to re-focus on where I was. Who I was. And who I was with.
Jake was eyeing me, aware I’d gone away somewhere in my head. I scooped up a box of edible body paints and waved them at him.
He smiled. “Whatever you want, honey.”
I marked where they were, knowing I’d be trying on some clothing. I could come back for them. I went back to educating myself about sex toys.
Jake definitely wanted something battery-powered. Body paints weren’t going to satisfy his whims. He continued to hover, asking “You know what that is? You like that?” He was starting to weird me out. Not because he was in any way wrong by asking. It was simply that I’d given a perfect stranger (and myself) the wrong idea. I didn’t need to do that with my husband – have him buy something I wasn’t into, and subsequently be forced to pretend I liked it.
On the other hand, what wasn’t I into, at this point? Besides acting like a complete cock tease to a total stranger? I had no idea. Fun, something in my brain hissed. You promised to make this fun for Jake. And you owe him that now.
Jake read my bewilderment and assumed it was about sex toys. “How about we start with a nice, simple vibrator?” He asked, tugging my hand toward a glass case.
I could already feel heat at the back of my neck, but I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Okaaaay.”
Dual vibrators, clit vibrators, Gspot vibrators, rabbit vibrators…the list was dizzying. The only vibrator I owned was a rudimentary one with a small angled wand and three speeds that I’d purchased for $20 from a slightly more liberated friend, who’d decided on sex toys as her wifely “home business” in lieu of Tupperware. Jake and I used it occasionally for play. He occasionally called me from the road, luridly suggesting I get the vibrator and massage myself while I stayed on the phone with him. I never did.
My eyes landed on the rabbit, which has clitoral stimulation as well as a wand. I remembered it -- It had been the new and featured item at the sex toy party, and every woman but me had bought one. The item had been too pricey (and too embarrassing) for me to buy at the time.
Still. I wasn’t here to shop for sex-by-my-lonesome.
Jake grinned approvingly. “The rabbit! Can’t go wrong with the name brand.”
I nodded, but scoured the glass case again and locked on something. My eyes danced – another rabbit came with a strap-on feature. This was something “we” could use, rather than something that was just for me. I could do more than describe the satisfaction I’d felt during anal sex – I could show Jake.
The idea was instantly captivating, because secretly, I was something of a guy in reverse – two guys turned me on, big time. The idea of fucking Jake the way a guy would, dominating him, gripping his hips the way he gripped mine, and plunging into him from behind, deep and hard, giving him the pleasure I’d felt, made my mouth run dry.
I was back. Back to my marriage and back to my new libido.
Jake’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, and there was a definite expression of hesitation. He knew what I was thinking, and the idea didn’t excite him as much as it did me.
I teased, “You said I could have whatever I wanted?”
“Is it detachable? From the strap on?” I shrugged, a little disappointed. Jake examined the box. “It is.” He finally nodded in surrender and handed me the package. “Well, I’m guessing you’re going to get a lot more use out of that than me.” He walked past me, headed for the clothing side of the store. “Let’s look at the lingerie. See anything that excites you?”
I was far to embarrassed to carry the strap-on around and left it on the shelf, but I was secretly pleased I’d had the courage to show it to Jake. Emboldened, I stalked the aisles of costumes and lingerie, fingering velvets and satins, looking for a cut that would flatter.
I held up a French maid costume. “This?” I said teasingly. The wedding night white lace. “This?” And dominatrix leather. “Oooooor …this?”
“Definitely not that,” he answered, pointing to the Dominatrix costume. “Never really into the role-playing stuff.”
“A classicist.” I grabbed a Tudor style deep blue velvet cami with panties and garter, all trimmed in antique lace. “This one,” I told him, “is me.”
“I like that,” he responded and I knew he did, because his breath was getting short.
I sashayed to the dressing room and shut the door.
I slipped the cami on, stroking my sides, relishing the feel of the purring velvet, and wishing I’d worn stockings and heels, so I could snap on the garters and enjoy the full look. My imagination took over again, flashing to China Blue and the restaurant. I reached up and stroked my breasts through the velvet, my nipples already taut with desire. I wanted to be fucked, and I wanted it right now.
A tap at the door. “How’s it look? Can I see?”
I opened the door a sliver, grabbed Jake by the shirt and yanked him inside so hard his shoulder crashed into the doorway.
“Jesus Christ, Maddie!” His hand covered his shoulder, his voice sharp.
My awkwardness knows no bounds. My arms automatically covered my breasts. I was folding in on myself, my confidence nose-diving. “Sorry, sorry! Did I hurt you?”
His eyes went to his shoulder, fury building on his face. He turned to me, irritated and hurt, but I felt the shift as he appraised what I was wearing. “Move your arms away,” he urged.
Reluctantly, I did so, no longer liking my own reflection in the mirror. Who was I kidding?
“Jesus Christ, Maddie,” he said again, this time with a hitch.
“What?”
“You.” His hands went around my waist, slithering over the material. His smile was slow in arriving, but was warm and lustful.
Self-conscious as always, I wondered what would constitute a sexy pose, without hurting him again. I leaned on one leg, my other knee bending slightly as I extended my arms like Vanna White. “You, um, like it?”
“No.” He pushed me back into the mirror and leaned in, his body trapping me. “I love it.” His mouth opened, while his ha
nd had already found my breast. I felt the stubble of five o’clock shadow on my face, moments before his tongue found mine, licking delicately, just outside our mouths. My arms fell to his shoulders and all thoughts of China Blue evaporated like summer rain, steaming off the pavement. After a night of Jake’s teasing hand, and an encounter with a total stranger, I was desperate for release. My hands tugged at the buttons on his jeans. Bracing a foot against the opposite wall in the closet-sized dressing room, I pulled his cock free and leaned back against the mirror. He was hard and ready.
“I love you, Madison,” he whispered.
“I love you too.” He pulled the velvet panty to the side and entered me. I sucked in a breath so loudly he covered my mouth. I did the same to him, both of us moving soundlessly in time with one another.
A loud rapping at the door. We froze, as the bedazzled clerk’s voice barked, “Only one person allowed in the dressing room at a time!”
“You have got to be shitting me,” Jake whispered in protest, abruptly pulling out.
My eyes were wide. “What do we do? You can’t go out there,” I said, gesturing to his erection. “And I’m…” I gestured at the get-up.
“Oh well, they’ll just have to be impressed,” he whispered back, tucking his taut cock back into his jeans and doing his best to button himself up. He looked like a freshly pitched tent. He stalked out, head deliberately and unnaturally high. “Sorry about that!” He announced loudly.
I could hear the unamused clerk muttering to him in displeased tones. I was choking with laughter. I’d had my moment of mortification this evening, now Jake was having his. Unable to resist, I ripped off the cami, tucked my body safely behind the door and opened just far enough to throw the cami at him, saying, “I guess we need to buy this.”
The lingerie landed on his face. He made no effort to remove it, merely turned to the now angry clerk and calmly said, “We’ll take this.”
“Don’t forget the panties!” I called out and tossed them too.
“And the panties,” Jake apologized to the clerk.
Enjoying myself now, I called out, “And the other stuff!!”
I couldn’t even imagine how Jake was handling this, but if anyone could, it would be him. I dressed slowly, hoping the store would clear out, if only out of sheer embarrassment for us. But I was greeted with a warm round of giggles and even a little applause as I walked out.
I was absolutely mortified, but Jake smiled and winked from the counter, the bedazzled clerk busy processing his credit card. I walked shyly over; knowing every eye in the place was on me.
The clerk didn’t miss a beat. She immediately started opening the box of the strap-on as she loudly announced, “I just have to check and make sure this strap-on is working.” And she meant it too – once the rabbit was free, she hit the ignition and started testing every single speed. The rabbit wove a rotating motion, the tiny motor grinding with every gear shift.
I burned red, as all new, lifted eyebrows of surprise greeted me, no matter what direction I turned from that clerk and the counter.
Humbled, I whispered, “I’ll meet you in the car,” to Jake.
Jake arrived at the car with a bag full of goodies and a proud smirk on his face. “Can’t take you anywhere these days.”
I hit at him playfully. “You started it!”
“And I’m going to finish it, too.” He gunned his Ford F250 out of the parking lot and turned.
“Freeway’s back thataway?” I gestured with my thumb.
“Yeah, you know what? Thought we’d take the long way home.” He turned on a lonely and dark country road. I let the window down, enjoying the hot breeze on my face. The headlights illuminated a mere ten feet in front of us. We road in silence, listening to the thrum of the engine, each of us lost in our own thoughts. At a field across from the country club, Jake turned, leaving the road for a bumpy midnight ride. At a copse of trees he braked and turned off the engine, reclining his seat back.
He patted his lap. “Come here.”
I moved awkwardly toward him, but he stopped me with a hand. “Lose the skirt, first.”
“Jake!” I protested, suddenly aware what he intended to do. I glanced around nervously. “What if some cop comes along?”
He tugged at my skirt. “I have been tormented all the way through dinner. And again at a sex shop. If I don’t have you -- right here, right now -- I may just have to settle for the cop. And then I’ll be arrested.” Having finally found purchase on the lycra skirt, he pulled it toward himself in one tremendous yank, snapping if off my hips. I giggled like a teenager, as I climbed over his legs, squatting above him, tugging at his jeans.
“Has it been that difficult for you?” I asked, deliberately feigning pity as the first button popped away.
“You have no idea.” He gasped as I set his stiffened sex free, running my hand lightly over the shaft, teasing the tip. He tugged at my hips, pulling me toward him. I thrust my hips forward, but kept my back against the steering wheel, resisting the full scale plunge he wanted to make.
“Wait for it,” I whispered, as I pinioned my feet on the seat, either side of his hips. I used the steering wheel to brace my arms. I teased him again, pulling back the foreskin and making circles with my index finger on the soft and shiny tip.
“Maddie, pleeeeaze…” he groaned.
Situating his cock between my legs, I squatted lower, just taking the head inside me, before lifting again -- just frogging over the head. “You want more?” I whispered. “Roll down your window. I can’t breath or move in here.”
He hit a button and the window scrolled down, delivering the barest hint of a breeze on my sex and the raucous percussion of cicadas in the field.
“Better?” He asked weakly.
“Better,” I announced and I lowered myself fully onto him just once. His sigh of relief was aborted when I pulled back up, resuming my position at the tip. I ran my hand over his balls gently, cupping one, then the other, while I continued to tease his dick with the promise of warmth and closeness.
“You were so hot in the restaurant,” he whispered.
“You liked that?” I asked, as I stroked the fulcrum between his sex and his anus. He responded, gasping with pleasure but I didn’t give him a moment to answer before plunging deep onto his shaft. I darted up and then down, hard this time.
“MmmHmm….”
“Our studio audience liked it too,” I confessed.
He gripped my hips, meeting me thrust for thrust. “What? Who? How do you know?”
I leaned in, licked and bit the nape of his neck, as I let my knees fall forward onto his seat¸ my breasts falling into his face as I said, “I told you at the time we were being watched. You said you didn’t care.”
I pulled my knees in toward each other, creating a longer funnel for his dick. He groaned again, enjoying the tightness, while I waited for the sensation of his dick sliding out and along the length of my legs, before plunging into me again. His hands gripped my waist, lifting me up and down, both of us relishing the claustrophobic closeness of our bodies, every hair follicle, every inch of skin between waist and knees feeling the friction.
Jake kissed me deeply, his breath wet as he finally asked, “So how do you know they enjoyed it? Did someone say something to you?” He pulled down hard on my hips, plunging himself as deep as he could go. Riddled by the deepness, I momentarily lost track of the conversation.
But Jake pressed – verbally and physically. He lifted me high and plunged me again as he demanded and answer. “Maddie?”
“In the bathroom,” I finally gasped, my faculties realizing too late that I’d started a conversation I may not want to finish.
Jake lifted me again, grinning. “You can’t resist that, can you?” as he pulled me down again.
“No,” I gasped again, his cock tickling my G spot.
“That’s why you were so long in there. Did she come onto you? Did she kiss you?”
He thought it was a woman.
“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you? Me with a woman. Recline the seat more,” Jake obliged, hitting a button, and we orbited, Jake headed west and me north. I leaned back against the steering wheel again, pushing the conversation and our hips to a new, horizontal position, so I could feel the shaft of his cock glancing over my clit as he thrust.
The Virgin Wife Page 4