by Selena Kitt
That was just the beginning of the experimentation with Marcus. Sex with the lights on and the shades wide open. One time, in the library stairwell, her fears about being caught overwhelmed by the sheer thrill, the risk, Marcus pulling up her skirt, holding her up by her hips, her legs locked around him, her back against the hard cement wall, her arms around his neck, totally depending on him to keep her from falling onto the stone landing. She had never come so fast.
And anal. There was no way Richard would do anal. Ever since Marcus had introduced that to her, it had excited her beyond her wildest dreams. But she had never done it with anyone else. She would have with Richard, but she couldn’t even figure out how to bring it up. She had tried once to guide his cock there ‘by mistake’, but he had quickly pulled back, apologizing so profusely she knew he didn’t want it, even after she said it was okay. He misunderstood, thinking she was forgiving him for his mistake, but since then Melissa could not even get him to put his fingers anywhere near her ass.
So anal was out of the question, even though she missed the intensity of it, the rawness. So like Marcus, so unlike Richard. Able to talk about it with Marcus, asking him, even before the first time they had done it, about the woman in the video, how she had taken it so easily. Melissa hadn’t seen any lube, although they may have edited that out. Marcus had laughed and said, ‘There’s a secret.’ And then he had flipped her over, still clothed, rubbing against her ass, and had whispered the secret in her ear, turning her on just by how matter of fact he was about it, not believing him at first, the secret seemed so odd, then wondering how he knew, but of course she realized he must have done it with other women, fucked them in the ass. . .
She doubted Richard had ever even thought about anal.
Doing it only in the dark with Richard had started to bother her too. That was another reason Melissa kept up her body. She thought maybe Richard no longer liked the way she looked, he was so into women who were in shape. She had once read that most men, no matter how old they were, found twenty two to be the perfect age for a woman in terms of how she looked. But with Richard, she expected it wasn’t the age, it was the body look, younger women just looked better, even if their tight buns and legs weren’t the result of working out. One of the few things he did outside of work was to go to the gym. At forty two, Richard was in better shape than most of the guys she had dated in college. But she doubted he was doing it to look better for other women. Or was he? Maybe she just didn’t excite him anymore.
Melissa looked at herself in the mirror before getting in the shower, naked, critical. Sure, there were some things she would not be able to maintain, she would never again have the skin of a twenty year old, and she was bothered by the small lines outside her eyes. But there was no flab at all on her arms, actually good tone there. She turned, arms on her hips, and could see her triceps, not popping like a weight lifter, she didn’t like that look, but tight. He thighs, especially from the side, the biggest test, still looked good. Between her legs she kept herself well trimmed, not shaved, but bikini neat.
She turned, looking over her shoulder. Her ass—that was a little problem. Or an ever so slightly big problem. No amount of working out or diet could change its shape, it was what she was born with. Although to be honest she still had a better butt than just about any woman she saw walking around. Though she was tall at five nine, and slender, she still was a little hippy, she wasn’t going to have that tight set of buns that some women had. It was too bad, she knew Richard would like that; one of the few things he enjoyed watching on television was the Olympics, the women’s sports. Melissa knew he was turned on—or at least interested in—the toned bodies of jock women, not the rowers, but the runners, the gymnasts. She’d never have that body.
But it probably wouldn’t matter. Not even a perfect 10 would interest him now.
Melissa sighed and got in the shower.
Chapter 4
It was closer to ten when Richard made it up to bed. Melissa had read for a while, just a magazine, trying to stay loose, sipping on some wine. She had left the small bedside lamp on, and when Richard came up he was still looking at his phone. He made a bit of a show of turning it off, putting it down on his nightstand.
“Okay, now I’m all yours,” he said.
Melissa watched him undress. He really was a handsome man. His face was square, rugged. He kept his hair short, not too much, just enough so he wouldn’t have to worry about it. Even his haircut was practical.
That wasn’t fair, she thought. Just because Richard didn’t care about his hair didn’t make him any less attractive. He kept in great shape, not to look good, but because it was better for his health. No matter, the result was the same. He pulled off his shirt without thinking about it, not trying to be sexy, but Melissa knew a lot of women were jealous of her, that they would kill to have a husband this in shape, this good looking.
He grabbed a clean tee shirt from the dresser, absently pulling it over his head, even as Melissa was wondering why he wasn’t getting naked. Didn’t he know how good he looked just by standing there shirtless? But he didn’t think that way, he just slipped into the covers next to her.
“What were you reading?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just a magazine. You know I don’t like anything serious just before bed.”
She reached over and put her hand on his chest, just feeling him breathe. He closed his eyes, not from the touch she thought, just because he was so tired.
“We can skip it tonight,” she said, meaning it.
“What?” He frowned. “No, no, just give me a minute to relax, get my mind clear.”
Melissa lay there for a while, not quite in the mood yet, but not willing to give up, not wanting to be the one responsible for not doing her part, not trying. “Do you want to talk about work, anything?”
“No, really. You have to listen to enough of that.” He closed his eyes again. Melissa thought he might fall asleep. “Anything you want to talk about? Didn’t you have lunch with Julie today?”
She rubbed her hand across his chest. “We did. She’s still a hoot.”
“What did you guys talk about?”
“You know—girls’ stuff.” Melissa felt suddenly guilty, thinking about the conversation with Julie. She wouldn’t let that happen again. Just thinking about another man felt like she was stabbing Richard in the back.
She turned fully on her side, facing him, letting her arm go to his other shoulder, pulling him toward her. She kissed him gently, not really sexually, just a light kiss, trying to communicate that she was interested but not pushing him. He kissed her back, a good kiss, turning to her, his arm around her back, pulling her in. She felt immediately warm, her body craving the closeness.
They stayed like that for a while, kissing, his hand keeping her close but not doing anything else. She was wearing only a long sleep tee shirt, nothing underneath, and she lifted her leg, hoping he would slide his hand down. She slipped her tongue in his mouth, just for a moment, not teasing him, just trying to build his interest. His kiss grew more intense, she felt he was getting into it, yet part of her wondering why she was being so clinical, this was her husband, the man she loved, the man who still excited her. Why was she having to think about it?
Enough of that. She slipped her hand down to his crotch, feeling for him, at the same time kissing him harder, her mouth open, hungry. She felt him start to harden just a little, her hands running up and down his cock through his boxers. His hand slipped down, across her ass, she wanted him to grab her, but he just kept going, onto her thigh. It felt good, more closeness, but she wanted more. She needed more.
Melissa slipped away from him gently, pulling aside the covers, sidling down the bed, moving his leg aside. She inhaled, taking in his scent, her mouth feeling for his cock through the fabric, mouthing him, wanting him hard, wanting to see this confirmation of how well she still interested him.
She felt his hand on her head, stroking her hair. She pulled of
f his shorts, keeping her attention on his cock, kissing it, licking the tip. He was only half aroused, not fully erect. Melissa used the opportunity to take it all in her mouth, not sucking on it, but just letting her tongue wash over him, waiting for it to grow in her mouth, something that had always turned her on with a guy, so rare, since by the time she ever got this far with anyone else they were already hard.
But nothing much happened. Richard continued to run his fingers through her hair, but there was no change in his erection. He wasn’t flaccid, he was somewhat aroused, but just wasn’t all the way there. Melissa started to suck on him, after nine years of sex she knew what he liked. But just like the last few times, he wasn’t responding. She moved her hair back from her face, she wanted Richard to see her, to watch what she was doing. As she did so she glanced up, his head was back, his eyes closed, he wasn’t even looking.
She did everything she could, desperately trying not to be frustrated, until he finally pulled her away, back up to him.
“Sorry,” he said. “I just can’t concentrate.”
“You’re not supposed to concentrate,” she said, trying but failing to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“Maybe if we turn out the light. . .”
She sighed and reached over for the lamp. Only the small nightlight from the bath now, behind him, he was just a silhouette, he could have been anyone.
“Sometimes I feel like a failure,” she said.
He turned to her, gripping her arm, comforting. “Don’t ever say that. It’s not you, it’s me. I just have too much on my mind to relax.”
This is supposed to make you relax, Melissa thought, but she didn’t say it.
He reached his hand down between her legs, cupping her. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t do something for you.”
“I don’t want it to be a chore,” she said, trying to keep the disappointment, and the bitterness, out of her voice. “We can wait.”
“No, I like to get you excited.” He slowly rubbed, not touching her fully, but putting a little pressure on her mound. Melissa felt his strength, getting her as aroused as if he had stroked her clit, her disappointment pushed aside in her need. She opened her legs, her lips seeking him out, kissing him again.
His fingers spread, opening her, his knuckles brushing her labia. When he touched her she gasped, not because he hit a magic spot, but because she needed it so much.
He moved down the bed, lifting her tee as he did, spreading her legs farther apart. His late day beard brushed gently across her thighs, surprising her. The sensation was unexpected; he hadn’t shaved tonight as he usually did on date nights. He felt her reaction, pushing his chin into her, sliding it up, letting it streak across her, the roughness a mix of discomfort and pleasure. Then his tongue found her, probing, inside and up, touching on her clit but not focusing on it.
She melted into the bed, wanting it so much. His beard brushed her again, something that always had excited her, ever since Marcus, who always had a sexy three day stubble, and the way it grazed her thighs as he licked her. . .
She groaned. Why was she thinking of Marcus? Richard was licking her, not Marcus! Richard took her groan to be pleasure, which it was, but not for the reason he thought. She opened her eyes, forcing herself back to Richard, certainly this was what she wanted, it was enough, it should be more than enough, here he was, with her, licking her.
But in the dark room it could have been anyone, it could have been Marcus. . .
Now Melissa couldn’t get Marcus out of her head. Damn you, Julie, why did you bring him up? And then she remembered what Julie had said, about there being nothing wrong with having a fantasy, and she allowed herself to let go, to imagine it was Marcus, the excitement overwhelming her guilt and she exploded, her orgasm a rush, willing herself to keep her hands off of Richard’s head, of feeling the straight hair that would be so different from Marcus’s, so as not to spoil the vision.
Please, Melissa thought, almost hating herself for it, just don’t speak for a minute.
But Richard didn’t linger, he knew she had her orgasm. He pulled the covers over them. “Anything else I can do for you?” he asked, as close to humor as she had heard in a while. He knew he had made her feel good.
Melissa shoved Marcus out of her mind. “Well, now that you mention it. . .” She slipped her hand between Richard’s legs. At one time getting her off would have turned him on, but he wasn’t at all erect now. She left her hand there.
“I’m just tired,” he said. “I don’t always have to, you know, finish. It’s still good.”
She sighed. “I know. I just want to please you too.”
“I’ve told you, as long as you are happy, so am I. That’s pleasure enough.”
What should she say? That she really wasn’t totally happy? It sounded so foolish. She thought about adding, ‘We can try something else,’ but what could she possibly suggest that he would like, or that wouldn’t just lead to a discussion? She didn’t want a discussion, she wanted sex.
She lay there in the dark, wondering how she could feel so unfulfilled after just having had a wonderful orgasm.
Chapter 5
Melissa looked up from her coffee. “You’re going into the office again? It’s Sunday!”
“The work doesn’t know what day it is,” said Richard, absentmindedly, his eyes already on his phone, missing her look of annoyance.
This wasn’t an argument Melissa would win, she didn’t even want to start it. So she changed gears. “There’s a pot luck dinner at the community center. I guess they do it monthly. I want to go to meet some of the neighbors. I really don’t know anyone here yet.”
“Um, sure. Why don’t you?”
“I want you to go too.”
Richard looked up at her, surprised. “Why? I’ll meet everyone soon enough.”
“Just because, that’s why.” Melissa was mad without really knowing why.
“Kind of late notice, isn’t it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not dumping this on you last minute. We probably got the invite late because we just moved in.”
“I’m just so busy, you know. I’ll go next month.”
“You can promise that now? You’ll be too busy next month too.”
“Melissa, what is it? I—” Richard’s phone buzzed.
“Please do not look at that,” she said, trying to keep herself calm. Why was she getting so upset over a pot luck?
Richard caught himself before he looked at the phone. “Is it that important to you?”
“It is,” she said. If she couldn’t fully have him in bed, she was at least going to have him at the damn pot luck.
He sighed. “Okay. But I might be a little late.”
“It’s at six.”
“Go ahead without me, just in case.” Richard looked at her, and probably something he saw in her face made him add, “I promise I will be there.”
The community center was in the middle of the neighborhood, the building tasteful, like a country club. Two adult pools, one for lounging, the other for laps. A set of white cloth covered tables had been set up near the pool area, a long trellis covered bar running along the side.
Melissa had waited until six fifteen, hoping Richard would be home by then. When he didn’t show she figured he might have driven directly to the pool. She could have texted him or called, but after their near argument that morning she didn’t feel she should have to. He had promised. On one hand he was right, it wasn’t a big deal, but she just wanted him to do something for her, to prioritize her over work. He had made a promise. Time to see if he kept to it.
She had thought a bit about her clothes. What did people wear to a pot luck? She’d hate to show up in jeans if everyone was dressed up. On the other hand, if she was overly dressed, she’d look ridiculous. She couldn’t use the excuse that she was just coming from work on a Sunday.
She settled for a loose sundress with straps, something she hoped that could be viewed as both casu
al and somewhat dressy. She didn’t know what the neighbors were like, and while she wasn’t the type to be overly concerned about what people thought, first impressions did count, and no sense in getting off on the wrong foot. To keep it casual she took off her diamond studs and replaced them with simpler, less flashy bangles, but to not appear too offhand, so no one would think she didn’t care, she wore a very low heel. That should do it. She’d given herself a quick hint of light perfume by spraying the air and walking into the mist.
The pot luck looked more like a party, already in full swing, a short line forming at the bar. Melissa was relieved to see that most of the women were dressed as she was, mostly casual dresses and some skirts, a few nice slacks. A few of the men wore sport jackets, but she couldn’t see anyone with a tie; mostly nice polo shirts and chinos. Classy country casual. If Richard came right from the office he’d be okay.