I started to come all over the place. Wave after wave of pounding, crashing climax! I felt my body grow hot, and then melt until my orgasm and Mark's were indistinguishable.
My thighs began to cramp, and I had to pull myself into an almost erect position. This pulled Mark's cock from my cunt.
The last spurt of his orgasm was just exploding from the tip of his cock as I pulled myself free. I felt the hot sperm splash against the outside of my cunt as my body straightened.
I came like that, squatting almost erectly over Mark's body. My cunt was empty, and Mark's thick sperm dribbled from the lips of my cunt and splashed back down on Mark's belly, making a puddle in his pubic hair. His cock was still erect, but it was stained with his own come.
I fell forward into Mark. My thigh rested in the puddle of Mark's sperm.
Mark began to laugh. He always did that when he had a good orgasm.
"Wendy!" he said. "You are unbelievable. After fifteen years, you're still the best fuck I've ever had."
I smiled back at Mark. That was a compliment.
Chapter 5
I felt ambitious the next morning. A good lay usually has that effect on me. I shipped the kids off to school after breakfast, and even made myself some scrambled eggs and coffee. I relaxed for about twenty minutes after breakfast by reading the News. Then I got around to my housework. First, general straightening: putting everything back into place. Two kids and a husband invariably left a wake of disorder in their path that was comparable to the destruction of an earthquake. I went through the rooms briskly, straightening and tidying, and by ten the house was, even by my standards, in fairly good shape.
Before I went on to the heavier cleaning, I decided to take another small break. For me, that meant another cup of coffee and a telephone call or two. I decided to call Lynda first. "Hi!" I said when Lynda answered the phone.
"Hi, Wendy!"
"What are you doing?"
"Getting ready to go to my Mother's."
"For a visit?"
"It's Dad. He's not feeling well."
"Is it his heart again?"
"I don't know. He's complaining about chest pains."
"It's hard to tell."
"You know how it is with old people."
"He's not that old, is he?"
"He's in his fifties…"
"That's not that old," I said. After all, I thought, it's only fifteen years older than I am. Fourteen, actually. To Lynda, I guess, it seems old.
"Will you be gone long?"
"Probably the rest of the week. Maybe the weekend also."
"Look. I better let you get packed. Call me if anything… happens."
"Sure. No problem."
"Take it easy, Lynda. Don't worry."
"Thanks for calling, Wendy."
I hung, the receiver up. Somehow, all of my previous energy seemed to have dissipated itself after Lynda's call. I sat at the kitchen table with a cooling cup of coffee in my hand. I sipped at the coffee without enjoying it. It tasted flat and stale, and it didn't provide that usual pick-up that a second cup of coffee invariably had on my moods. I sat there, thinking and feeling vaguely tired and dissatisfied.
Thirty-six, I thought. Next week. Past the mid-thirties point, and on towards forty.
I sipped the coffee.
I thought about what Mark had suggested last night as a birthday present for me. I think I'd enjoy having two men make love to me at the same time, even if one of them was Mark. That was something that I've never tried. Even Lynda has that fantasy. I remembered what she had told me about the first dildo and her husband eating her and fucking her with it at the same time.
How typical of Lynda, I thought. Instead of actually experiencing the fantasy, she was content to just dream about it and use her husband's mouth and a rubber cock as a poor substitute.
I laughed to myself. Am I any better? I've never tried it either. I shouldn't talk.
We came close once, though. I thought back to Fran and Kenny.
Jesus! We haven't seen them in what? Six, seven years. Ever since we moved out here. I wonder how they're doing?
I sipped at my coffee, savoring the memory of two friends from the past. With Fran and Kenny we had come the closest to ever participating in an orgy. We had begun by just fooling around. Kissing with each other's husband and wife in a dark room. A little petting. Then one night-who suggested it?-we decided to swap partners: to make love to each other.
I thought back to the night. What a farce. Instead of being sexy, the four of us had gotten so stoned that we had to get undressed in separate bedrooms. Kenny and I had gotten the kid's bedroom, and we tried to make love on Laura's narrow, single bed. We kept on falling off, with arms and legs draped over the edge of the mattress. Once Kenny slipped off the bed and banged his knee against the floor. He jumped around holding his knee, stark naked, trying to smother his pain and embarrassment.
What a night. We were so serious about the sex that it turned into a fiasco. No one got satisfied, not even the men. We tried so hard to make it work.
I bet it would work now, I thought. I sipped my coffee. We're older now. More mature. I think we could accept sex more easily now. We wouldn't have to try so hard to prove how mature and cool we really were. We could take the sex for what it is-a sensual, pleasurable experience, and not an extension of anyone's ego.
The urge to call them made me almost get up from the table. I allowed the desire to pass and grow into a realistic perspective. Too much time has passed, I knew. Fran and Kenny are different people now. Sure, they might come, but it wouldn't be the same. The past is never the same. You can never relive it in the present The only way you can have the past again is to remember it.
Christ! I thought. What am I doing? Sitting here and thinking about the past as though my life were over!
It's only a birthday, I told myself. Just another birthday.
I thought again of Fran and Kenny. To a night before that abortive mess. We were all sitting on the living room couch kissing each other. Somehow we started petting and touching each other in pairs. First Mark and Kenny kissing and touching Fran: Mark massaging her tits and Kenny fingering her and kissing her. Then Mark's turn: I took his cock out and began to suck it while Fran was kissing him.
I sipped the coffee again.
Then my turn. Mark got down on his knees and parted my pussy with his fingers and began to lick it furiously. While he was doing that, Kenny pulled my blouse up and was sucking on my tits. I nearly went out of my mind. While Kenny was sucking my tits, I grabbed his cock and began to jerk it off. I nearly came while they were working on me. That night was a hundred times more exciting than the night we actually swapped partners.
I put my coffee cup down.
"Jesus Christ!" I said out loud. I was getting myself horny thinking about it!
My tits were hard under my house dress, and I could feel myself getting wet. I considered masturbating, but I've never enjoyed that as a solitary experience. It was always a last resort. I put my hands down and I squeezed my cunt. A thrill of pleasure spread out from my cunt and made my legs feel weak. My tits became hard and the nipples grew stiff.
I promised myself that I was going to convince Mark to give me a man for my birthday.
I laughed. That was foolish, I knew. Even though Mark and I talked about it, we would never go to that length. Mark could mess around on his own, and I would do the same. But we would never acknowledge that part of our lives to each other. There was a fine balance on which our trust and love precariously teetered. To acknowledge what we both knew, but never admitted, would ruin forever that equilibrium. Both Mark and I had our own secret life that we would never admit to the other. We couldn't. We loved each other too much.