Husbands & Wives (& lovers): Par 3

by Anne Douglas

  “I don’t know, but it’s the only reason I can come up with as to why our sex life has dwindled to nothing.” God, how she missed the way he had of taking control of her body, of wringing every last drop of pleasure from her as he insisted on her satisfaction.

  Aaron sighed and leaned back in his chair, loosing her hands from his. One hand rested on his thigh while the other rubbed his belly, just like she’d seen him do over the years when he had a bellyache. “Wanna know something funny?”

  Emma raised her brows to let him know she was listening, prompting him on.

  “All those things you said in the kitchen ‑‑ I’ve been thinking almost those exact same things about you. I was certain you’d started an affair.” He rubbed his belly harder, just under his ribs where she knew he felt acid burn when he got too stressed. “And tonight ‑‑ I know something happened tonight. You came out of the house right after that bastard Joel Markim, looking all flushed and unkempt, like you’d been in there doing something with him.”

  Aaron turned his gaze back on her with a sense of directness and purpose, and Emma felt her cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

  “Something did happen, didn’t it?” Pain bloomed in Aaron’s eyes, and he’d unconsciously pressed his fist where his fingers had been absently rubbing. For all that Aaron was a confident man driven to take charge, he was sensitive, vulnerable ‑‑ even though he strove to hide it.

  Emma licked her lips, scared, not sure how to tell her husband what’d happened. She’d not made a conscious choice not to tell Aaron, but it might have been something she would have kept to herself so as not to hurt him. “Nothing really happened. Yet, in a way, something did happen, but I have to take a large portion of the blame for that.”

  Aaron flinched. “Go on.”

  “Joel offered to help me with barbequing the meat since you weren’t here, and I’ll own up to satisfying a little petty vengeance by giving him your apron to wear. I shouldn’t have, but I was feeling so damned angry at you.” And truly, it had been a small-minded satisfaction.

  “When Joel brought the cooked meat inside, I was in the kitchen prepping the last of the salads and desserts. I thought he’d gone, but then he came up behind me. He’d seen me watching him…and well, he made it known he was willing to take it a step further.”

  “Son of a fucking bitch.” Aaron stood so fast the chair slid back, nearly toppling, and he began to pace, his hand still pressing under his ribs. “Then what?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  “Then I told him I loved my husband, and I wanted no part of what he was offering, and he backed off.”

  “And…?” He stopped in front of her, the tips of his toes touching hers.

  “And on the way out, he said that if you were idiot enough to let me go, he’d be waiting.” Her mouth ran on with a quasi excuse, and she wanted to cringe. “It wasn’t all his fault, Aaron. I’d been watching him, envious of how he treated the women he dates. So ‑‑”

  “Son of a ‑‑” Aaron reached out and grabbed her under her arms, yanking her up off the bed until her breasts pressed up against his chest. “If he so much as looks your way again, Emma, I swear ‑‑”

  His arms came around her and pulled her in so tightly she doubted she’d ever get free. Warm, searching lips crashed down onto hers, and the rasp of his evening stubble over her cheeks was a pleasurable pain she relished. It had been so long since she’d felt desired like this by him, she nearly didn’t feel guilty about how it came about. He still wanted her ‑‑ extra padding, middling years, and all ‑‑ and that was all that mattered.

  Aaron’s lips slipped away, and she arched her neck, giving him more room to play as he nibbled and gently bit his way down to the sensitive crook of her shoulder. Aaron’s shoulder dipped, and she felt the palm of his hand and the rough, possessive touch of his fingers along her leg as he scooped up and under the skirt of her dress. His palm spread along the back of her thigh, and with a quick movement, he pulled her leg up alongside his, upsetting her balance so she pressed intimately against him. Emma linked her fingers together behind Aaron’s neck and held on for dear life.

  A small, needy moan escaped her when his lips came back to hers. Changing her grip, she loosened her fingers so she could tangle them in her husband’s dark, curly hair and hold him at her mouth. This…this fervor…this need for one another, God, how I’ve missed it.

  Aaron’s left hand moved from the near painful grip he had on her bottom to curve around and lift her higher. Emma was reminded that her husband was not a middle-aged layabout, but a strong, fit man ‑‑ the man she’d lusted after for twenty-five years, give or take a few for her fascination with Brad Pitt and Hugh Jackman. Encouraged by the broad palms behind her thighs that held her tightly against her husband, she wrapped her legs around his hips. His hands flexed on her bum as he held her, prompting her to grind against him. The scant coverage of her panties and the front of his trousers were all that kept them apart. From behind, fingertips ran along the damp fabric of her underwear, easily slipping underneath the elastic edge to dip into her center.

  She tore her mouth from Aaron’s with a gasp. “Yes! Aaron, please.” Desperation and lust were clear in her voice.

  She’d wanted this for too long. Wanted the heat and fire they’d lost years ago, before settling instead for silent, missionary acts rather than the blazing flame of sexy encounters grabbed in hasty moments that only left them eager for more.

  Aaron tipped her, and she fell back, pulling him down to the bed on top of her when she kept her legs wrapped around him. He broke her hold and stepped back, reaching down to strip off her panties, pushing her legs open after he swept the scrap of fabric over and off her feet. He looked down at her, and the heat in his gaze made her skin prickle as his eyes traveled from one end of her body to the other.

  Although her dress had ridden up on her hips and still covered her pussy, she felt his eyes there as if she were bare. Her nipples went tight and the chafe of her light, silky bra, still hidden behind the bodice of her dress, was suddenly too much.

  She said nothing, but her hands went to the buttons that ran down the front of the lightweight summer dress she barely wore. Aaron’s eyes followed, but his hands went to his belt. Her hands moved slowly, releasing each button and pulling back the fabric to expose her bra, teasing inch by teasing inch. With the restricting fabric gone, she reached for the front clasp of her bra. The click of the plastic fastener was loud in a room that echoed with their heavy, excited breaths. She peeled back the satin and lace and was pleased to see Aaron’s nostrils flare.

  Aaron half swallowed a groan; his desire ignited hers. “Don’t you dare stop now, Emma. You know the punishment for teasing.”

  “I won’t.” Emma was surprised by the deep, husky timbre of her voice. Like her body, her voice had matured with age, but it had been so long since she’d heard herself while this turned on. She well knew Aaron wasn’t above enforcing his rules about teasing ‑‑ she’d bared herself to him, masturbating herself to a climax a number of times in the past as punishment ‑‑ but not tonight, she didn’t want that at all. She needed her husband more than anything else.

  Her fingertips followed the curve of her hip down to where her dress rested high on her thighs. She walked her fingers along her legs, slowly pleating the fabric so her hem rose until she had it in her fists. Emma nearly laughed at the way Aaron’s eyes stayed glued to the line that separated her bare flesh from covered.

  After all her worrying, all her harebrained assumptions, maybe she should take what Aaron said at face value? She’d known and loved this man for over twenty-six years ‑‑ maybe it was her reasoning that was faulty, not his? After all, he’d never tried to control her life or make her decisions for her. Aaron had always been the perfect blend of command and assistance, lending his support in public when she’d needed it and his control in private when she’d desired that, too.

  Movement caught her eye, and Emma dropped her gaze down. Although
he’d been watching her the whole time, Aaron had multitasked ‑‑ his belt was gone, and his slacks drooped, loose around his hips as his fly hung open. He’d shoved down his underwear, and he slowly worked his erection with one fist. His other hand reached out as she watched and gently stroked along her calf.

  “You are so damn beautiful.”

  She shook her head, denying his declaration. “No, I’m not. I’m nothing like what I used to be.”

  Dark, turbulent eyes bored into her, and Aaron bullied his way back onto the bed, pushing his knees between her legs, spreading her sex wide. The cool wash of the late night air over her hot sex attested to just how aroused she was ‑‑ how she always was lately. Menopause just around the corner be damned, lately she was always horny. Maybe she’d just hit that female mid-thirties sexual prime a little on the late side?

  “No, you’re not.” As he spoke, Aaron went to his hands and knees, looming over her.

  Shocked by his agreement, Emma turned her head to the side, feeling her arousal begin to slide away as her disappointment took over. Aaron had never criticized her before.

  “These wrinkles.” A finger stroked across her cheekbone and flirted with the crow’s feet at the corner of her eye that defied her expensive creams. Emma felt a light, fleeting kiss against her eyelid, then Aaron moved. His fingers caressed from her clavicle down the slope of her breast. “The way these sit lower than before, and these stretch marks.” His fingers briefly touched the faded pregnancy marks on her breasts, then plucked at her nipples before he swept her skirt up to her waist. “And these ones, too.” Aaron’s fingers stopped their stroking pattern along the now silvery stretch marks on her belly, and his palm curved around her now generous hips. “Along with these extra curves here, tell me the same thing; you’re not the same woman you were.” Strong fingers pressed against her chin, turning her face back toward his. “They all tell me you’re the woman who’s grown older, hopefully wiser ‑‑ certainly wiser than me most of the time ‑‑ and who bore me two wonderful children. I loved you then, and I love you now ‑‑ and you’re still one sexy woman. You can’t live through twenty-five years and two children and expect to be the same, my love.”

  She’d not looked at it that way before, not considered that she should wear the changes in her body proudly. His words rattled around in her brain, and she wondered why. How on earth had she missed this…this simple truth? Had she become so caught up in the marketing of what she should be that she’d forgotten everything she was, everything she’d achieved?

  How ironic, that it’d taken a man ‑‑ her husband ‑‑ to point it out and make her see herself from a new point of view. Why on earth had I ever thought he was cheating? It seemed so stupid now that she’d been stewing over this for months, letting it invade and sour her life.

  She’d not been as direct at putting her sexual wants and needs into words in the past, instead letting Aaron be the instigator, the aggressor. Her reticence was probably part of the reason their love life had dwindled right down to nothing ‑‑ but she needed to try harder, needed to show him how much his words meant to her.

  “I miss our raunchy, sexy antics and the way we used to talk about all those far-fetched fantasies, and I do want those times back. I don’t really know why we stopped, but right now I need you to make love to me, Aaron. Just you and me, no games…show me you really mean what you said.”

  The fierce look of desire on Aaron’s face changed, softened. He moved from her body for a moment, and she watched him shuck his clothes. Everything landed on the floor in an untidy mess that wasn’t at all typical of her husband.

  Chapter Four

  Naked and unashamed, Aaron stretched out his hand to his wife. When she placed her hand in his, he pulled her upright long enough to pull her dress and bra up and off.

  How had he not realized his beautiful wife had become so disappointed in herself, in her body? Have you actually been here to see, you dumb ass? He’d not thought twice about his long hours, or how working so much might look to Emma. They were more than financially stable these days, and she was right ‑‑ he had plenty of staff who did their jobs with ease. But still, he owned the company, so when push came to shove he was the one ultimately responsible. If nothing else, today ‑‑ tonight ‑‑ had taught him one thing: he needed to learn to let go and delegate. Emma was right. It was their time, and they needed to enjoy it ‑‑ otherwise what was the point of doing all that work?

  He’d adored her body through every moment they’d been together, but he’d been totally clueless to the fact that she’d thought his attraction was waning. Aaron figured he would still find her attractive at ninety-five; after all, it was the person inside he loved, not just the packaging she came in. He hadn’t failed to take note of her comment about missing their raunchy, sexy antics, and the secret fantasies they’d spun under the covers as titillation, knowing they’d never be more than pure fantasy. With his conversation with Silas was still fresh in his mind, he remembered nights where they had spoken of make-believe secret lovers smuggled into their bed, and how Emma had said she wanted to sate her curiosity about other men, though he wasn’t sure if he dared to go to that sort of extreme outside of their make-believe.

  When the last of the cloth whispered over her fingertips, Aaron flung the dress to the side and ran his fingers down her still upstretched arms, enjoying the way her breasts reacted as he stroked over the sensitive skin of her underarm. Her nipples, larger and longer than when they’d first made love all those years before, cinched tight, the dark skin of her areola crinkling up as his fingertip circled the sensitive area.

  He dipped his head and, using his tongue, circled just as his fingertip had, before sucking Emma’s nipple into his mouth. He hadn’t lied. The changes in Emma’s body didn’t lessen his attraction to her, and in some ways the changes excited him. They’d practiced their fair share of positions over the years, and Emma on her knees before him, her rounded bum in the air, tempting him, was one of his favorite sights ‑‑ one that with the addition of a few pounds had only gotten better.

  But not tonight. Tonight he was going to make love to his wife for the first time in three very long months, face-to-face, and show her that she was everything he needed.

  Emma’s arms came down and she cupped her breasts, hiding behind her crossed arms. “What are you thinking?”

  He pushed her arms away from her breasts and back down onto the bed, coming down beside her before pulling her onto her side to face him. Aaron lifted Emma’s leg so it draped over his hip, opening her sex to him. His much too eager cock pressed against the heat of her pussy, and the liquid evidence that his wife was as ready as he made his cock slick.

  “That I love you.” He may have gotten many things wrong, but Emma’s sigh as she pressed her mouth against his said this time he’d gotten it right.

  Emma’s hips rocked, and her pussy shifted along his cock until he sat at the entrance of her channel. Slowly, he pressed into her body and the sweet, slick heat of her pussy surrounded him. This wasn’t the best position for maximum penetration or for the hard, pounding thrusts of missionary or doggy style; yet the slow, aching glide of their sexes was plenty enough when he could hold his wife in his arms and cradle her to him. For this moment he wanted them to face one another as equals, side by side, and the slow, aching rock of their hips moving together as they kissed was perfect.

  He wasn’t one to fool himself that he wouldn’t go off like a rocket. No matter that his usual stamina was better than that, it had been three months. He moved Emma’s arm from his waist up to his neck, looping her forearm around so she could wind her fingers in his hair ‑‑ he always liked that. It was like a gauge of how well he was doing; the more it stung when she pulled, the better her orgasm was going to be.

  Now that his hand was free to roam, he began to stroke her body, down the more exaggerated curve of her hip, over the soft pooch of her belly, and through the curls covering her mound. He touched all those places h
e knew so well. The spots where just the edge of a fingernail drew a response, where a small circle of his thumb made her shake. The stroke of his fingertips along her clit made her moan.

  Emma’s body subtly tensed and she broke from their kiss. Her head burrowed under his chin as she panted against his skin.

  “Come for me, love.” His lips were still sensitive from their kiss, and as he spoke against her hair, the strands tickled.

  Her gasped breaths became a light whimper, and Aaron felt the sting of her fingers curling in his hair. Emma’s leg clamped around his hips, her thighs tightening as her muscles clenched in advance of her orgasm. Aaron hung on by the skin of his teeth, determined to see Emma through her orgasm before releasing his own.

  A husky wail, the kind he hadn’t heard for the longest time from his wife, rolled between them. Her back bowed, and her leg flexed, sandwiching his hand more tightly between them as her body shook.

  Aaron lost himself in her orgasm, letting his own rush over him.

  * * * * *

  They lay together, still entwined, sated and quiet.

  “Why’s it been three months since we last did this, Em?” Aaron brushed an errant lock of damp hair from his wife’s brow. “I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you, Em.”

  Having not moved apart, Emma still faced him, yet she tried to evade him. He’d only turned on a lamp when they’d come into the room, so the light was dim and Emma’s face was in shadow, but he still saw the flush of red across her cheeks.

  “Em?”

  “Um…” Her tongue slicked across her lower lip, and then her front teeth followed behind before she sucked a small part of her lip into her mouth and worried it between her teeth. “The last couple of times, you didn’t come ‑‑ you just sort of gave up halfway through and rolled over.”