7 comments/ 73102 views/ 18 favorites A Wife's Decision By: DailyReader Hi everyone! This could be considered a companion piece to my series "A Tribute to my Daddy." It deals with another character's emotions and motivations. Anyway, it's a strictly lesbian story that hopefully I'll be working on more as time permits. If you take the time to read it, please vote, even if you only decide to give it a 1. Also, any feedback is appreciated, either anonymous or direct. Thank you! * If only he knew what I was up to, I thought. He'd have a heart attack. Of course, when I was having this fleeting thought, my head was buried between the legs of a gorgeous girl who I'd just met. More specifically, a gorgeous blonde twenty-something who worked at the strip club a few blocks from work. After all, we girls have to have our fun, don't we? I should probably explain who "he" is. That would be my husband. We've been married almost twenty years, and for most of it, I'd been pretty happy. But on my fortieth birthday, back in January, one of my girlfriends, Jenny -- the innocent kind of girlfriend, mind you -- had decided that I needed a wild night of partying, to help me recapture the old days, before I was, in her words "growing mature." So, we put on the sort of clothes we would have put on when we were going out trolling for men in college: short skirts, low-cut tops, slutty heels, the works. After we hit the third bar, most of the places in town were closing, but neither one of us felt like going home. "There's one more place open," she had told me, and with those words, we had ended up at a fairly sleazy strip joint at about two in the morning. It was a Thursday, and hardly anyone was there. If we got any funny looks when we paid our cover charge, I didn't notice them. In fact, from the moment I walked in, my eyes were on the girl dancing. She was hot. There's no other way to put it. Maybe she wasn't a stereotypical Hollywood sort of beautiful, but she had sex appeal. She was shorter than I expected a stripper to be, with black hair cut in a bob, and perky, but natural, breasts "Let's hear it for Amber," the announcer said as she walked off stage. I gave Jenny a look along the lines of "why on Earth are we here?" but she just smiled at me, and bought me another drink. It was my birthday after all. I think I had a few more drinks before I made it into the cab. On the ride home, all I could think of was that these women, or as I really thought of them, these slutty girls, stirred something in me that my husband didn't. Sure, he was a good provider. Sure, he took excellent care of me and my daughter, who'd be off to college in the fall. But something wasn't clicking in our sex life anymore. It wasn't as if we weren't trying; we still had sex frequently, and we both tried hard to include new things and keep what passion we had alive. I had to be honest with myself though: after my birthday, I wasn't sure that I didn't want to see what girls like Amber had to offer. After that, my habit started as innocently as it could. I'd go into work an hour early, work through lunch, and then head out about an hour and half earlier than I normally did. I'd spend those ninety glorious minutes at the strip club, ogling the girls, slipping them a few bucks here and there. The really cute ones -- like Amber -- might have gotten more than a few. I wasn't spending enough money to make my husband suspicious, just enough to keep the girls intrigued. I'd read somewhere that most strippers would rather be with a woman; maybe they were sick of all the male attention. Or maybe the statistic was a lie and I was just doing some wishful thinking. On my fourth or fifth visit to the club, Amber finally came up to me. "I see you here all the time, babe, and I'm beginning to wonder." I swallowed, a little nervous, worried that my secret was about to come out. That I wanted to see what would happen with the little pixie. "Wonder what? If the ribs are really good enough to keep a woman like me coming back? Or if there's something else?" I tried to play it cool, but flirtatious. If I could play my cards right with this girl, I was going to. I'll be honest; the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to feel a woman licking my pussy, rather than my husband's well-meaning, but less than gentle attempts at it. I can't help it if the man grows stubble faster than he can shave. Just one time, I wanted to know what a woman's touch felt like. Amber rolled her eyes at me. "You don't have to play coy. I know you've been tipping me more than the other girls. But, I have to say, I think I know your type. You've been married for fifteen, maybe twenty years -- even though you don't look old enough -- have a couple of kids, boys probably. Mothers of girls don't typically come round here. They get the worst ideas." She grinned. "I proved my mom right years ago." Her smile was something else. Two rows of white teeth, glinting in the dim lights of the club. "Maybe you kissed a girl in college, maybe you didn't, but what you want is a one-time thing with a girl you don't have to care about." Her self-righteous speech had made me a little angry, not just because I felt it was wrong, but because I was worried it might actually be right. "Actually, I have a daughter. One daughter, going to college in the fall. And you're right, I've never done anything with a girl, at least not yet. I'm not sure what I want, but I'm not the type of woman to just...dabble in this sort of thing. Don't insult me." She smiled at me again, with just a hint of a patronizing look in her eyes. "Well, if you're serious about wanting some grade-A pussy, I have a friend that might be just right. She loves being a girl's first time. I think she'd absolutely adore you. I could introduce you?" I nodded, half in eagerness, half in disappointment. I didn't want just some girl, no matter how hot she was or how good she could make me feel. I wanted Amber, then and there. I just wanted to suck on her tits, dive between her legs, feel her fingers slip inside me. And, this conversation had left me confused about her. Was she straight, and trying to put me off on another girl out of compassion, or was I too old for her, or did she just not want to get involved with a patron, or what? What did she want, and how could I give it to her. "I'd like to meet her. What's she look like?" "You know that blonde dancer with the long hair, Olivia? It's her sister. She doesn't work here, but I've been over to her place a couple of times. I left in a much better mood than I went in, if you know what I'm saying. I'm not quite sure how to describe her, but to be honest, she licks pussy like it's keeping her alive." Inside, I cheered. So Amber was interested in women, at least a little bit. I still had a chance. I didn't know how big a chance, but it still existed, at that was what counted. "I think I know the one you mean." And that was how I got Irene's number, whose pussy was up against my tongue at the beginning of my story. I can't say she wasn't attractive, but she wasn't as hot as Amber was. Amber just did something for me. But Irene was pretty in her own way. She was blonde like her sister, not very tall, maybe only five-four, but her curves were in all the right places. The first time I saw her, I wanted her too. Maybe not as much as Amber, but I wanted to get her out of those clothes and see those curves up close. A couple of days later, I got up the courage to call this new, mystery girl. It was a thrill, both the calling up a woman for sex, and the knowledge that I was cheating on my husband. I wanted something he couldn't give me, could never give me, and I was going to get it. I was going to see what Irene had to offer. We made a "date," if you can call it that. Basically, I was just going to go over to Irene's and have sex with her. I felt kind of trashy doing that sort of thing, but if she was OK with it, then I was going to be OK with it too. Besides, if I didn't have a fun time with her, I'd know that what I felt about Amber was just some sort of weird crush, and it would probably fade with time. Before I left work early that day -- my boss had begun commenting on it, but as long as I was putting in my forty hours a week, he couldn't really complain -- I went to the restroom and dolled myself up. I had brought a whole change of clothes with me to work. A sheer white blouse, with a black miniskirt that barely covered anything and hinted clearly at what it did cover. I skipped the bra, and slipped off my "normal" panties to put on a brand-new black thong. I wanted Irene to see me at my best, and with at least something on I didn't associate with my husband. I had to make sure no one saw me on the way out, a feat which I managed, even though I had to duck into an empty office when I saw my boss coming. But I made it to my car, my knees shaking in anticipation, and drove the three miles to Irene's apartment. She lived in a fairly rundown part of town, so when she opened the door, I was surprised by how nice the inside was. "You must be Audrey," she said with a smile. That smile could have been all she was wearing for all I was paying attention just then. She just exuded sex, and I could feel it. "Um, yeah. May I come in, Irene?" She nodded, practically tugging me in. Her hair was a mess, but it suited her, locks curling every which way about her face. She was wearing a green t-shirt, which showed she was clearly not wearing a bra, because her nipples poked the soft cotton fabric out, and tight blue jeans. I couldn't help but wonder why a girl who was maybe twenty-three would invite a forty-year-old woman up for sex. I felt old in front of her, but if she thought I did, she didn't show it. Before I had a chance to sit down, her lips were on mine. "I know Amber said you were cute, but I didn't expect this." I blushed, kissing her back faintly. Guiltily, I thought about Amber and how my chances might be better than I thought, even as I deepened the kiss with Irene. I didn't feel like I was cheating on my husband, at least not yet, but a little part of me felt I was cheating on Amber, a girl I hadn't even touched, just seen naked a half-dozen times. But those thoughts washed away as Irene's kiss got hungrier and hungrier, her hands beginning to rub my back, my ass, pulling me to her. The kiss was intense, our tongues pressing up against one another, darting into mouths, our teeth tugging at the other's lips. I moaned involuntarily as her mouth moved against my neck, sucking on the little patch of skin between my shoulder and my throat. "First time, huh?" she said with a grin. "Took you long enough, it seems." I nodded weakly. If a girl, a random girl, could do this to me, I wondered if I might have just been a lesbian -- or at least bisexual -- all along and not known it. "Does it show? I mean, tell me if I do something wrong, or bad, or ... whatever." I was stumbling over my words, my pussy heating up, even as I licked my lips, wanting more. "Oh, don't you worry. I'll take good care of you, Audrey. By the time you leave here, we'll be trying to figure out when you can come back. And just because you're a little older than the other girls I've brought back here, you're no less beautiful." I blushed again -- this was becoming a habit. "Promise?" I was already liking this girl. She knew how to flatter. "I promise." She gave me another nibble to the side of my neck. "You are gorgeous, pretty, beautiful, and I can't wait to taste you." Proving that she said what she meant, one hand dipped under my skirt, brushing against my thigh, trailing up to my crotch. "Babydoll," she said, "you're not going to need that thong much longer." I pulled my skirt up a little so she could get a better view, then guided her hand to the band. She tugged, hard, pulling the underwear down to my knees. "May I?" she asked, then without waiting for an answer, pulled them off, gently taking off my heels in the process. I wasn't sure what to think. I was standing there wearing only a blouse and skirt, and at this point, my skirt may as well have been non-existent. She led me to the couch, pressing me down to it. "Now, if you want me to stop, just tell me to. I know you're new at this, and I don't want to scare you. I just want you to enjoy yourself." She spread my legs slowly, inhaling deeply as if to take in as much of my scent as possible, then laid her head at my crotch. Instinctively, I pulled her head closer. "I like a girl who knows what she wants," she said, then her tongue darted out to tap against my clit. I moaned so loud I thought the neighbors could hear. Already soaked and needy, I wanted to cum. I wanted this girl to make me cum. I wanted any girl to make me cum. Fuck my husband and his cock: I wanted a girl who wanted my pussy. "Patience, hon," she said, before licking at me slowly. My clit tingled, throbbed, ached for more. She teased me. I know she did, before her tongue ran the entire length of my slit. "Come on," I said, knowing I was whining. "Make me...make me cum..." I know I was being greedy, but I needed it. I needed it so bad. "Don't get ahead of yourself," she said, grinning. "If this is your first time, I better make it good." I squirmed at her touch, her tongue rolling along my clit, darting down to touch darker places, just barely brushing my insides. Suddenly, I felt three sharp strokes along my clit. "A is for your ass, which I can't wait to see." A few more, and it was "B is for your breasts, which I'm sure I'll love." One long curved stroke brought me C, which was for cunt, one of my favorite dirty words. I didn't know what to think. Here I was, getting my cunt licked by this dirty-talking girl, and I loved it. I wanted more. I pressed her head hard against my crotch, bucking my hips to get more sensation. "D is for dirty, which is what you are." I blushed. I love, love, love dirty talk, and here this girl was, hitting all the right spots, both physically and psychologically. I don't remember the rest of the alphabet, because somewhere between G and H I couldn't control it. But she didn't stop. Even as I came, she kept licking. My husband stops the moment I start, but Irene just kept at it, licking my slit, nibbling on my clit -- which felt both painful and amazing -- just fucking me with her mouth. And all I could think was "This is how it's supposed to feel." I moaned, screamed, yelled, everything. Irene loved it, laughing delightedly each time I said her name, each time I told her not to stop. But she did, once she hit Z. I really wish I could remember what Z was, because I'm sure it must have been hard to come up with. I was covered in sweat, my skirt up to my waist, my blouse twisted on my body. I threw my head back and moaned again, loving this feeling. Normally, I'm just an average businesswoman with an average husband and an average life, but here I was fucking an almost-stranger, a woman no less, on her couch and I loved it. "What...what do we do now?" I said, trying to catch my breath. "Mmm...I think that depends on what you want. I think that orgasm was building for a long time. What's the matter babe, doesn't your husband make you cum?" I nodded, then paused. "Well, sort of, he does. Just...not like that. That was...better than anything. It was like only ever hearing Chopsticks on the piano and then going to the orchestra." She smiled. "Glad I could help, then. I think we need to get you out of those clothes before you sweat them to pieces." She found the zipper of my skirt, and with one swift motion pulled it down, then the skirt off of me. I fumbled with my blouse for a few moments, before getting it off as well, leaving me naked on her couch. "You asked me what next? I think we need to move to the bedroom." I followed her to the bedroom, leaving my clothes in a heap in her front room. Even as we entered, she was removing her own clothes, leaving this gorgeous blonde naked in front of me. "Do you want more, or would you like to return the favor? I understand if you don't want to -- at least not this time." I shook my head at her. "What do you mean 'don't want to?' And God, there better be a next time," I said. Playfully, I pushed her down against the bed. "Just remember, I might need a little help." And with that said, I leaned down over her, giving her another kiss, my right hand moving to her breasts, rolling her nipples between my fingers. "God, I love it when girls play with my tits," she said after breaking the kiss. "Don't be shy -- you can suck on them too." I didn't really need the hint. Eagerly, I went to her left breast, trailing my tongue all around her breast, circling her nipple greedily. "You like it when I do this," I asked innocently, before latching my mouth around her nipple, sucking on it hungrily. I lapped at it with my tongue, teasing her a little. I wasn't quite sure what I was doing, only that I knew it worked on me. It must be a global sort of thing, because she moaned loudly. "That's right, just like that," she said. Her words of encouragement spurred me on, and I began to rub against her, my belly bumping against her crotch. After a few moments, I switched breasts, but I was already hungry for something else. For the past week or so, I'd been playing with the idea of going down on a girl, and here was my chance. "I think I'm ready," I said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, then slowly pushed my head down, aiming it straight for her pussy. Unlike mine, which I've taken to only trimming once every three weeks or so, once it starts feeling out of hand, her cunt was nearly bald, with only a little hair up at the top. Probably to make it easier to eat, I told myself. After that little thought, I pressed my face up against her, smelling something I'd never really gotten the chance to before: a woman's scent, up close and personal. Tentatively, I reached out my tongue and gave her entire pussy a lick, all the way from the very bottom, ending up by her clit. She rolled her hips up towards my mouth, making me squirm. A fantasy of mine was coming true! Here I was, licking a pussy. And I was getting into it. I started licking faster and faster, hungrier. I wasn't so concerned about my technique as I thought I would be. All I cared about was her taste, her scent, drawing out the experience, teasing her, but in the end making her cum. She did it for me, so I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to suck on her clit, lick her pussy, draw those delicious lips into my mouth. I wanted girl juices smeared across my face and the scent of pussy lingering in my hair. I've never let my husband cum on me -- no matter how much he's tried to convince me -- but here I was wishing this girl could. Irene started thrashing about, pressing herself against my mouth, but somehow I knew she wasn't quite there yet, that what I was doing wasn't quite enough. "What else," I said, breathless as I ducked my head back down to give her nub a few more licks. "Just keep at it, baby," she said. "Sometimes it takes a while. We girls are a little different, you have to remember." I blushed, thinking it was a little silly that I could make her cum just as fast as I did my husband, but it didn't bother me. It just meant more pussy for me. So I dived right back into it, nuzzling into her thighs as I pressed my tongue hard against her little clit. It was like a dream. I had this delicious cunt in front of me, and for the time being, it was all mine. When she moaned, it was because I licked in just the right place. When she squirmed, it was because I was teasing her. And when she screamed my name, it was because I had finally pushed her over the edge. "Oh fuck," she said, rocking her hips back against my tongue. Remembering how she hadn't stopped, I kept licking at her, darting my tongue in and out of her, teasing her, but not letting her escape me. And I was glowing: I had given this beautiful girl an orgasm, the same sort of screaming, hands-balled, thrashing cum that she had given me. My pussy was dripping again and I'm sure the room stank of it. But I wasn't stopping until Irene pushed me away. I just kept licking and licking. Maybe I didn't have the talent to spell out words yet, but I did my best. A Wife's Decision Ch. 02 I woke up the next morning (sadly next to my husband) with a faint sense of regret in my mind. Not that because I had cheated on my husband, but because I hadn't slept with the girl I really wanted. Irene was hot, and even sexier when I thought about her the next day, but she wasn't the girl I wanted to take to bed every night. That was Amber. Even though she had introduced me to Irene, and encouraged me to let Irene be my first, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had betrayed her. When I thought about it, it was silly. Amber wanted me to fuck Irene, and even though Amber knew (or at least suspected) how much I wanted her, she hadn't seized the opportunity. Or I hadn't pushed the issue. Either way, it seemed unlikely that I would get my chance anytime soon. Rolling out of bed (away from my husband), I decided to start the day off by following through with the promise I made Irene the night before: Call her. I didn't know the rules about calling the girl who just tongue-fucked you silly, but I wanted to taste her again. If I shut my eyes and concentrated, I thought I could just barely catch her rich scent in my hair. Stepping into the shower, I naturally let my mind wander to the events of the evening before. Me turning up at Irene's apartment, searching for pussy. Getting my pussy licked by a woman for the first time. A woman making me cum for the first time. My first time licking another woman's pussy. My first time making another woman cum. As I thought about it all, I let my hands wander over my body. I started at my breasts, stroking them, rolling my nipples between two fingers before sliding them down my stomach. I tossed my head back, wetting my hair as I let my fingers keep moving down. It had been too long since I had felt as good as last night, and I couldn't remember the last time I had been turned on enough to play in the shower. Biting my lip in anticipation, I parted my lips, exposing my hardened clit to the trails of water dripping down my torso. Moaning, I let the water fall around it, imagining that the wet heat was Irene's tongue caressing me. "Mmm...that's it, lick me. Lick my pussy clean, make me cum. I need it, need it so bad," I whispered. Rocking my hips, I let the water cascade down my legs, dreaming that it was my pussy juices, my present to my lover. I couldn't hold myself back any longer, and I let myself finally touch my clit, fingers reaching down, stroking it firmly, but lovingly. "That's right, right there, right there Irene, touch me, don't stop," I said, louder, beginning to embrace my fantasy. I rolled my fingers around my clit, teasing myself, just like I imagined she would do. After what seemed like an eternity of playing, I felt my climax coming over me. My cunt tightened, my clit throbbed, and waves of sweet relief poured over me. In a wordless moan, I came, knees buckling and pulse racing. I sighed happily, letting the water fall against me. When I was finally done basking in my afterglow, I did somehow manage to get clean. It wasn't easy. I could have spent the whole day touching myself and daydreaming about licking pussy and having mine licked. I was developing an obsession with girls, their bodies, and the way they made me feel. On some level, I knew I was treading a fine line. I had a sleeping husband in the other room, but I was too hooked on the idea of burying my face in Irene (or preferably Amber) to resist. "You're such a slut for pussy," I told myself as I toweled off, blushing a deep red as I thought it. "Such a nasty, dirty slut for cunt." I couldn't lie to myself; I wanted more so badly. However, there is a downside to waking up on a weekend day before your husband and daydreaming about pussy: It's very hard to select a sexy outfit for yourself (and whatever girl you hope to see it) without him getting the wrong idea (in this case, that it's for him.) So I had to make do with jeans and a plain blue top. I did manage to sneak on some sexy underwear, lacy and red, with little cutouts on the hips, with a matching bra. My husband wouldn't be seeing that. At that point, the hours started to crawl by. I assumed, rightly or wrongly, that I wasn't the last girl on Irene's dance card last night. That didn't bother me, even though I thought it would. I always had jealousy issues with my husband's female friends, and it was a relief to realize that when it came to Irene, it was physical first and foremost. If we became friends, great, but I mostly just wanted to fuck her. Amber, on the other hand, I dreamed about in a different way. All my visits to her club had just reinforced the idea in my mind that there was something special about her, something worth capturing if I could. Finally, when eleven that morning rolled around, I couldn't hold back. Shaking, I picked up my cell and dialed Irene's number. It rang, once, twice, three times, before I heard a woman's voice – obviously just waking up – on the other end. "Mmph...Hello? This...Irene." "Oh, Irene, it's Audrey. We...uh...fucked yesterday. Well, you'd know that when I said my name. I think. This is coming out all wrong. Um...let me start again. Irene, this is Audrey. I had a great time yesterday." I heard laughter on the other end. "Well, now that we have that sorted out," she said, "I should let you know that I did too. So much so that I had some very nice dreams about it all. You were so cute, it being your first time and all." I blushed. "Well, the real reason I was calling...I want to see you again." I dropped my voice. "And by see, I mean lick your pussy until you cum all over my face like the slut I see in the mirror this morning." "Now that sounds like a date worth having. I have some things to take care of, mostly my pussy. I don't think I can wait until you get here to take care of that." It was my turn to laugh. "Oh really? I turn you on just that much?" "Yep." She giggled. "Want to listen? Want to hear what happens when you turn me on?" I gasped. I wasn't prepared for that offer. Somehow I had thought that in the light of a new day all of these feelings (on both sides) would have gone away and it would have been a one-time indiscretion on my part. "Come on," she said, "you know you want to. I'm sure you've buzzed your pussy one way or the other this morning." "In the shower," I admitted, sounding not nearly as guilty as I might at being caught out so openly. "Well, just so you know, I've already pulled my panties down. I've got one hand on my belly and...hold on while I put this on speaker...one hand on my breast. I'm rubbing my breasts, making them nice and sensitive." I moaned softly into the phone. "Tell me more, tell me how I'm making you feel," I whispered, not wanting anyone in the house to hear. "Oh you turn me on so much Audrey. There's no way someone like you should have missed out on pussy for this long. And when I think about the way you fucked me yesterday, I just have to slide a finger from my belly to my clit. I'm stroking it, tapping it ever so lightly." These last words were punctuated by quiet groans. "Mmm," I moaned, imagining the look on Irene's face as she played with herself. "Are you getting juicy Irene? Nice and wet? I think I can feel my panties soaking." "Oh babe, my pussy is beyond wet at this point. I've got my finger in it now, sliding in and out slowly. Not too fast...I want you to hear how wet." The phone went off speaker and for a moment silence. I was afraid we had been disconnected, but then I heard a quiet, wet, sloppy sound. The sound of her finger-fucking herself. I whimpered softly, imagining the smell and taste that went along with that sound. The speaker came back on. "Did you like that, babe? Did you like hearing me fuck myself? Because I can't stop now. I need to cum. Tell me what to do." I've never been a dominant one in bed – I've always had more of a submissive side. It's the one kink that I really wish I could have explored further, before I went down this girl-fucking path, but I hadn't. Right then, though, Irene's word had a profound effect on me. "Keep fucking yourself," I whispered. "Keep sliding that finger into your horny pussy. But don't cum. You can't cum until I say you can." She moaned. "I won't. I promise I won't." There were no words from her for almost a minute. "Please," she said eventually, "please let me cum. I need to so bad. So so bad. This little slut needs to cum." I shook my head, even though she couldn't see it. "Sluts like you, who do what you did yesterday, have to remember who's in control." Inside, I was a little confused. I didn't know I had this side to me, but in the moment, I was really enjoying it. "Stop everything else and rub your clit." "What did I do yesterday, that I have be punished like this," she moaned. I could tell she was enjoying this, riding the edge of orgasm, having me in control. "Good girls don't invite older women in just to fuck. It's something only sluts do," I said. I couldn't believe myself. I had just met this girl yesterday – just had my first time with a girl yesterday – and here I was acting like it should have been this way all along. I waited thirty seconds, until I could hear her practically thrashing on the other end. "But, know what little sluts get to do in the end? They get to cum. You have my permission." Almost immediately, I heard her scream my name on the other end of the phone. Panting and moaning and "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck" over and over. I moaned myself; my panties were soaked and there was no way I was going to be able to sneak in some more solo time today. "Audrey," Irene said lazily on the phone. "That was hot." She laughed. "Mmm...when can you come over so I can return the favor?" I thought about it. "I can be over around...four. Will that work?" "Sounds great...one more question. How late can you stay?" I laughed. "I'll clear my schedule. See you then." After we hung up, the full impact of what just happened hit me. I had just had phone sex, really really hot phone sex, in my kitchen with Irene. My pussy ached for attention, but any minute, my husband and daughter would be up and there would go my chance. Still, I rested my hand against my thigh, drawing my finger across my leg, imagining what I would be able to do that afternoon. "Mom? Mom?" My daughter's voice brought me back to earth. I sighed softly to myself. No chance of getting myself off now, and odds were high I would just end up fighting with her and ruining my day anyway. "Mom, are you listening?" I blinked. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked, trying to seem less annoyed than I felt. "I said that there's an open forum at one of the schools I applied to tomorrow. I just got a reminder e-mail this morning. I forgot." "Jamie, I really wish you'd pay more attention to these things. Your father and I can't always drop everything at the last minute to go." "Mom, I'm eighteen. I can take myself. It's only two hours away. I can leave tonight and be back before dinner tomorrow." "You're not going alone. Either your father or I have to take you." "Why not?" "Because your father and I will be contributing to your college and we don't want you missing out on the right opportunity." "Fine! I don't want to argue about it. I just want to go to the stupid forum. I'll ask Dad. You wouldn't let me have a good time anyway." She stormed off, stamping her feet like a toddler having a tantrum. It was like this all of the time now, fight after fight after fight. Part of me was secretly relieved though. Having her father out of the house for a little while might give me a chance to work through the feelings I was having. More and more I just wasn't attracted to him. More and more I loved him, but wasn't in love with him. Part of me accepted that (the part that had made a date with Irene) and part of it didn't (the part that was beginning to feel a little guilty.) Then the first part won. If Jamie and her father were going to be gone over night, I wouldn't have to rush home after spending time with Irene. I could even spend the night if I wanted, rubbing and licking until we passed out in sweaty exhaustion. My pussy tingled at the thought. Of course, I didn't know if Irene would be ok with that, but with a devilish smile, I decided that I might be able to persuade her. "Audrey?" Alex – my husband – owned the voice distracting me from my preferred distraction at the moment. "What did you do to Jamie now?" I glared at him. He had an unfortunate tendency to take sides in our argument, and when he did, it wasn't ever mine. "I told him that she wasn't allowed to go to one of these college events over night without one of us." "You should trust her more. She makes the right decisions. Have we ever caught her using drugs? Has she gotten pregnant? Have we ever had to post bail for her?" "It's not a matter of trust. If she wants to go and do something I wouldn't approve of, I'm not going to judge her. I love our daughter and things...morals...have changed. Since I was her age." I didn't want to point out that things had changed for me since the night before. I didn't think this conversation was the time for telling him"Oh, by the way, I like girls now. I would prefer not to sleep with you again. We should think about what this means for our relationship." "Well, you've really pissed her off," he said. "But I'll take her. We'll leave around three and be back sometime tomorrow." I nodded absently. I didn't want to get into another conversation about how we had raised our daughter. In my mind, we had raised her to make her own decisions about her life, and the only reason not to let her go alone was because we had a stake in this decision too. By that point it was lunchtime, and the next three hours were spent in a combination of sullen silence (from Jamie), packing and running errands (Alex), and impatience to fuck (me). I wanted Jamie to go and have a good time; I wanted Alex to go and help her decide; I wanted to drive right over to Irene's, throw open the door, and practically tackle her. But I could wait. If I had to. Finally, three rolled around. Jamie spent a few final minutes trying out her "college" look. Frankly, the only difference I saw between it and her "high school senior" look was a different pair of shoes, but if the details made the difference, that was that. Besides, at that point, I cared a whole lot less about what my daughter might be wearing, and a whole lot more about what I was about to change into. I saw them out the door, waved goodbye and told them I loved them. Like I said, I still loved my husband, but from my birthday on, the passion had faded, quickly. Before they had gone around the block, I had pulled out my phone and dialed Irene. "Audrey," she said, "I hope you're not having second thoughts. Because I've been so wet today that it's seemed a shame to even bother getting dressed..." The thought of Irene naked and waiting thrilled me, but I was going to need a little bit of time to put my full plan into action. "Not having second thoughts at all. But I do have a little bit of bad news and a whole lot of good news." She giggled. "Tell me everything." "Well, I'm going to be a little late. Maybe an hour or so. But my husband and daughter unexpectedly had to go out of town tonight. So I'll be all alone tonight, with no one to keep me company..." "Mmm...I think I understand everything. I'll see you closer to five then?" "Better make it five-thirty." "I'll see you then. But whatever will I do until then. I'm sure I can think of something..." She hung up, leaving all sorts of delicious images in my mind. Irene finger-fucking herself again, the way she did when I called earlier. Maybe even taking a vibe to her clit and cumming that way. I never bought myself any toys – they made my husband jealous – but for all I knew, maybe Irene had a full toy chest in her bedroom. For a moment, the image of Irene fucking Amber with a vibrator, or maybe even a strap-on, passed through my mind. I was jealous, but I couldn't deny that the idea was hot. My lover fucking my crush? Pretty damn hot. I looked at the clock. It was past three fifteen and it would probably take close to twenty minutes to make the drive to Irene's this weekend. I didn't want to leave her hanging so began to put my special plan into action. If I had extra time with her, I wanted to give her something special. Stepping into the shower, I resisted the urge to finger myself again. Instead, I focused on my razor, shaving first my legs, then my hair around my pussy. After twenty (very careful) minutes, I stepped out, admiring my work in the mirror. My cunt was completely bald and super sensitive. I had never noticed how my lips puffed or the way my skin color changed down there. Trust me, it was even harder to resist fucking myself then. After I toweled off, I stepped into the bedroom. I had full run of my clothes now, without my husband to make assumptions. I wanted to make the wrapping as good as the present, and it took most of my remaining time to select the right outfit. First, the bra. I don't have very big breasts (which, luckily, means that age has treated them well), so I wanted something that made them look their best. I selected a pushup bra I had bought years ago. It was white, with black lace detailing around the cups, and a dark grey bow between them. I had only worn it a couple of times, and I liked the feeling of wearing something (relatively) new to my "date." Panties were a little harder. I was worried about seeming too eager, too youthful, too matronly, too everything. A girl in college once told me that the panties you wore when you knew you were going to get fucked said everything about you. After reviewing all of my options, from thongs to bikini cut, from black to red to blue to green, from plain to patterned, I finally selected the perfect pair. They were white, almost virginal-looking, from the front. In back, rather than a solid piece of cloth, elastic cords held the two pieces together, showing off my ass. While they were a little snug, I felt like they showed both halves of who I would be at Irene. Horny slut and inexperienced, all at once. My hands trembled as I selected my dress. I had a few that might work, but I wanted to wear something special. It was midnight black, fuck-me black. With barely-there straps (just enough to hide the bra) and short, it left no doubt about the wearer's intentions. I shrugged off any doubts I had about taking things too far, and put it on. It fit like a glove. It hugged my curves, hid my flaws, and showed my strengths. I felt so sexy, and surprisingly, so nervous. It wasn't like I hadn't already fucked Irene. I had, and it felt great. I just wanted her to like the Audrey she saw tonight. I did my makeup quickly – just a hint of lipstick, eyeliner, and blush – stepped into a pair of black pumps, and was out the door. On the way to Irene's, I stopped for wine. I didn't know what Irene drank, so I wanted to pick out a couple of reds and whites. Ordinarily, I probably would have stopped to comparison shop, but I could feel eyes on me. I knew I had dressed my best, but I didn't want to give every man in town an eyeful. Or any man in town an eyeful for that matter. I wanted Irene to see what she was getting. "Audrey?" For a moment, I thought my daughter had caught me. That her and her father had laid a trap for me and sprung it, catching me red-handed on my way to fuck a girl behind his back. But it wasn't, it was Amber. My voice immediately caught in my throat. "Am...Amber?" I said, immediately feeling foolish. "Wow, you look good," she said, smiling. "Is it for your husband?" For my ears only she whispered "For anyone I might know?" I nodded, guiltily. Immediately, I thought how much more I wanted Amber to unwrap this present. If I hadn't run into her, I would be happily on my way to a fuck date with Irene, not feeling awkward in the store. A Wife's Decision Ch. 02 "Well, I hope Irene appreciates the look. It suits you." She smiled, ran a hand through her hair, and waved. "Maybe I'll see you next week. I work Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday." She winked. "And maybe you can tell me how tonight went..." And walked away. She was flirting with me! I could tell that, obviously. But I don't think she knew how weird it made me feel, setting me up with another girl, and then flirting with me and asking me to tell her about it. With some effort, I put the confusion out of my mind, picked out the wine and was on my way. By the time I reached Irene's, I had regained my composure and I was so horny I couldn't stand it. I knocked, and as the door opened, I was totally unprepared for what I saw on the other side. Yesterday, I had seen Irene casually dressed (and naked), but that was nothing on what I saw today. She had on a bra and panties, dark green (which appeared to be her color), but the panties had been pulled to the side, showing the edge of her pussy. Her bra straps had slid down her shoulders. "Um...I've been a little busy," she admitted. "Pussies don't fuck themselves. I have to put at least a little effort into it." She grinned at me. "I love that dress on you. I bet I love what's under it even more." I shivered, and as I stepped inside (not waiting for an invitation), I kissed her deeply, my tongue plunging into her mouth greedily. She moaned into my mouth, even as my hand found her cunt. I pressed my palm against it, rubbing in slow circles. She ground back against me eagerly, mouth working hungrily against mine. Breaking the kiss, I moved my mouth to nibble on her neck. "Oh!" she moaned, wrapping her arms around me, and pulling me down to her collar. I sucked on it lightly, but I had other ideas in mind. I pushed her down, first to sitting, then to laying on the carpet. I tugged her panties down to her ankles, fully exposing her bare pussy. Still fully clothed, I pressed my mouth against her, licking from the top to the bottom of her cunt, trailing my tongue along her, teasing. "I've had to wait an extra hour," she reminded me. "Too bad," I said, slowly building the pressure I was putting on her lips. "But, I guess I can't be too cruel..." I said, before sucking gently, but firmly on her hard clit. My lips wrapped around it, my tongue pressed against it in slow strokes, building in speed, until her hips began to buck. "Yessss....there...there," she panted, her body beginning to shake as she came. I could taste her sticky, sweet juices beginning to flow stronger, and I lapped them up hungrily. I'm sure I smeared my makeup, but I didn't care. I needed this. After a minute or so, her climax came to an end. She stayed on the floor, eyes half-shut, with a smile on her face. "Mmm...I liked that," she said, stroking my head where it lay against her thigh. I blushed. "So, um...who's the slut now?" I said, laughing. "It's a tough call – girl in just underwear or woman who eats pussy fully clothed." "You, absolutely you," she murmured, laughing. "I'll return the favor, I promise." "Now?" I asked. "I can't stand how horny I am. I need to cum so badly, so much. Make me cum, please." "What did you just say?" "Please, make me cum. Please." She grinned at me. "Since you said the magic word." She rolled me off of her, onto my back and looked me over. "Delicious," she said, before rolling my dress up my thighs to expose my panties. "You won't need these," she said, before sliding my panties off. "Just relax," she said, before pressing her tongue directly against my throbbing clit. That in itself was almost enough to make me cum. She must have known it, because she backed off almost immediately. "Damn Audrey, you must be all kinds of frustrated right now," she observed, before slowly trailing her tongue down my slit, darting the tip between my lips. "Uh-huh," I managed to groan. "No teasing. No fair." My hands reached down, tugging her closer to my pussy. I was hooked on the feeling of her tongue on me, and had been from the very first moment she touched me the day before. I rocked my hips slowly, trying to drive her tongue against me, to press it right where I needed it. My voice took on a pleading edge. "Just make me cum," I said, my legs spreading almost involuntarily to give her more room. "I need it, need it so fucking much." And I did. I needed to cum. I needed the satisfaction I could only get from Irene and her wonderful pussy licking. And she was being totally unfair, delaying my climax. Maybe I had been spoiled by the night before or by my time in the shower, but it seemed an eternity before she concentrated on my clit, lapping at it softly until I couldn't stand it. My orgasm came over me slowly, rolling across my body in gentle waves that built up to a wonderful, ecstatic release. "I needed that," I admitted, panting. My panties lay crumpled by an ankle, taking any sense of modesty with them. "Like my new look?" I asked. "Babe, I love it," she said, giving my mound a slow kiss, her nose bumping up against the soft, newly bared flesh. "I love seeing a lush, sexy woman not afraid to show a bald pussy to a slut like me. And you most certainly qualify." I laughed. "Careful what you say. I'm not that old, I promise." "Didn't say you were. Your body is stunning, just the way it is." "Mmm...I'll accept that for now. And before I forget, I left the wine in the car. I...we have plenty to share." "Only if I get to drink it off of you," she said, before sending me out the door, sans panties. Two and more than a half bottles of wine later, we were both thoroughly drunk. Not sloppy, falling on your ass drunk – I had more sense than that – but pleasantly so. It was just past eight. In the interim, she had cum twice more. Once, I had taken the initiative and pinned her against the wall, grinding my bare leg into her pussy until it was slick with her juice. I had yet to see her cum so intensely, her face flushed as she screamed my name. The other had been good, old-fashioned (as if I had been doing it for years) pussy-licking with my face buried back in her cunt. After my first taste, it seemed I couldn't get enough. I had rarely tasted myself before, but I swore I couldn't taste anything like the musky, salty, sweet flavor Irene had. "Buzz...buzz...your phone is ringing..." Irene said, laughing as she handed it to me. The called ID read Alex, the last person I wanted to talk to in the world. I was in no fit state, mentally or physically to talk to him, but I knew if I didn't, he'd just call back. "Shut the fuck up," I said, laughing, kissing Irene deeply to take any sting away from my words. "It's my husband, you know, the guy who I don't want to fuck..." I kept laughing, before clumsily managing to pick up the phone. "Hello," I said, in my best trying-to-be-sober voice. I had evidently lost the knack for it in the almost two decades since college, since Alex immediately realized I was faking it. "Audrey? Are you drunk?" "Absolutely not," I said, batting Irene away from my breasts, which had of course been stripped of their bra and dress over the past two hours. "Just got back from dinner. I went out. Had a margarita. Just the one." "Right, whatever. With anyone I know?" I blinked. I wasn't prepared to lie straight out, or drag Irene into a conversation. "Just a friend of a friend. A girl Jenny introduced me to, a few months back." It was stretching the truth at the least, but I was too drunk to care. "Well, it looks like the forum starts at ten and is over by two. We should be ready to leave the campus by three, depending on if Jamie wants to take a tour. See you around five?" "OK." At this point, I had to push Irene off of me, as she had begun to slowly slide her index finger in and out of me, totally pulling my drunken attention away from my husband. It felt so good, but I needed to be able to focus. "Anything else?" "Nope." "Love you, Audrey." "Love you too." Again, it may have been sort of stretching the truth, but it wasn't an outright lie. Finally, I was able to hang up. Irene's finger was still working in and out of me, and since I hadn't cum since I walked in the door, my pussy was ready for it, dripping my juice onto her hand. "Sorry you had to listen to that," I told her. "We don't have to talk about it," she whispered, nibbling on my ear. "Unless you want to. But that can wait until later." Her finger moved faster and faster in my cunt, then was joined by another, pressing up into my g-spot. "Right there! God, right there!" I said, feeling a powerful tightening in my pussy, my climax readying itself. Irene kept up her pumping and kept pressing against me, until I couldn't hold back. I came, hard, my hips bucking up before crashing back into the floor. We still hadn't made it to the bedroom yet. Once I caught my breath, I came to the conclusion that the only way to deal with my husband problem was more wine. So Irene and I moved onto a third and a half bottle. We weren't doing so well at that point. It was only nine, and my body was awash with alcohol. "Hey sexy," Irene said, kissing from my lips to my left breast, which she sucked on gently. "Let's play a game! Truth or dare. And no cheating! A dare is a dare!" I was just drunk enough to say yes. The only time I remembered playing truth or dare in my youth, I had ended up thoroughly embarrassed and refused to follow through on my last dare, French kissing my best friend Sarah. If Sarah had seen me with Irene, she probably would have wondered what the fuck had changed in my life. "You first," I said. "Truth or dare?" "Dare!" she said, batting her eyelashes at me. "And remember, I have to do it!" "Anyone would think you're just in this for the slutty parts," I said, before pausing a moment to think of something appropriate to the situation. "Your dare is...taking a photo of your pussy and texting it to me." "Naughty! But you have to set it as my caller ID." "Of course I will," I said. Taking her phone, she snapped a quick picture of her pussy, fingers spreading her lips for me to get a really good look at her. I waited a moment, and my phone buzzed again. It didn't take long for me to set it not just as her caller ID, but as my background (at least until my husband got home and needed to see my phone for something). "Your turn," Irene said. "Truth or dare!" "Um...truth," I said, remembering how spectacularly dares could go wrong. "Oooo! Let's see...any question I want...Are you glad you met me?" "That's easy. Of course I am! You're sexy as fuck, Irene. I love your kisses and your breasts, and your sweet pussy. Next! Truth or dare!" "Well, I choose truth this time." "Um...what was the best part about being my first woman?" "How shy you were. I mean, you came over looking sexy as fuck, craving a girl's tongue on your pussy, and craving your tongue on a pussy too, but you were so shy about it. Like I was going to just turn you away at the door. I mean, I know you're...um...older than I am, but you seemed just like a girl after prom. Fighting your urges, but ready to give in at the slightest prompting." I blushed a deep red. "Yeah, that's true. I think that's exactly how I felt." I took a drink of wine. "Dare," I said, turning an even deeper red. "Just remember, you have to do whatever it is. Now let me think...ooo...you have to spread your ass, so I can get a good look at all of you." While it sounded simple, it really wasn't for me. I've always had a little bit of a hang-up about my butt. It was never the shape I wanted, too flat (like my chest) before I had Jamie and not quite round afterwards. And forget about touching my asshole. My husband and I had tried to explore that, but I was too nervous, even when I was seriously relaxed. "Here goes nothing," I said, and leaned forward onto my chest, hands slipping back to show her my ass. "Sexy as can be," she said, taking her time to appreciate it. She stroked the top of my thigh slowly. "I really like it," she said after a moment more stroking. "I want a dare this time," she said, taking a little bit more wine for herself, staying just on the edge of true drunkenness. I didn't have to think on this one. "You have to kiss my asshole. I promise it's clean." I was drunk as could be, otherwise I never would have considered letting her do that. She leaned forward, tottering as she did. Her lips touched it briefly, and I thought she was done. She had fulfilled the terms of my dare, but all of a sudden, I got a much more forceful kiss, tongue pressing at the tight ring of muscle. "Oh!" I exclaimed, turned on even more by the thought of this young slut (which is honestly how I thought of Irene) licking my asshole. It was like warm, wet velvet running across my most intimate areas, and I loved it. "Truth," I said, once I had caught my breath. "Why don't you tell Amber how much you like her?" I blinked. I didn't know Irene knew that much about Amber. I mean, I knew they had done some things, but not what or when. And I had no idea that Irene had that much insight into my thinking. "It's kind of rude, I mean, for me to discuss another girl I want when you just licked my asshole." "Oh, don't worry about it. You can fuck me and still lust after that sexy pixie of a girl. In fact, I hope you can fuck both of us. Maybe not at the same time. That could get awkward between friends. But maybe on the same night." At the very least, her candor surprised me. "I have no idea what she thinks of me. She probably thinks I'm some bored housewife – which while true – isn't everything." "Dare." Irene's rapid change of subject threw me for a moment, but I came up with a hell of a dare. "You have to pour the rest of that wine on my pussy, drink what you can, and then make me cum without using your tongue or your hands." I had had enough of playing games for a little while, and wanted the bliss that came with Irene's body against mine. Her way of solving the dare was most inventive. After drinking the wine from my cunt, she grabbed the empty bottle and slid the tip inside me. I gasped, not expecting it. "Like this, slut," she said, her voice turning hard and dominant. "Does the little slut need to get fucked? Will she fuck a bottle?" I groaned. Irene had just pushed me mentally over the edge. In my mind, I had just cum three times from her words alone. "Yes," I whimpered, letting her slide the bottle in and out of me. "This little slut needs to get fucked." She smiled at me, before beginning to truly fuck me. She didn't go very deep, not wanting to hurt me, but her strokes were hard and even, and before long, I was rubbing my clit hard. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," I whined. After only maybe a minute more, I was cumming, juices running down the bottle and onto her hand. "Good girl," she said approvingly, before moving to give me a deep kiss. I'd like to say that at this point we stayed up until morning, fucking and being fucked, but we were exhausted. We lay on the floor for a while, talking about nothing important, before staggering to her bed. Almost immediately, we both fell asleep. A Wife's Decision Eventually, she did push me away. "You're a natural, babe," she said. I beamed: this compliment made my day. "A fuckin' natural. Pardon the pun." She grinned at me. "I don't think once with you will be enough." I nodded eagerly. "I want more, more, more!" It was the truth. I wanted more. My husband suddenly didn't interest me. I wanted a female touch, none of this cock and balls stuff. The enthusiasm I was showing might have been a little...juvenile, but it was genuine. It was kind of like I was seventeen again and just starting down the road that led to my daughter. The only problem was how to deal with my husband. Throwing away almost twenty years of marriage isn't a decision to be made because of one -- admittedly amazing -- fuck. "Well, babydoll, we'll have to meet another day. Someone will be wondering where you are soon." I looked at the clock: it was almost ten minutes past when I should have left work. There's never much traffic on his way home, so Alex -- my husband -- usually gets home before I do. No way I wanted to start a conversation about either my affair or my new-found appreciation of women, at least not that night. "Irene, thank you," I said, meaning it from the very very bottom of my heart, that place where only the truth resides. "I'll call you tonight, or tomorrow. I hope we can do it again, and soon!" I gave her a kiss, then gathered up my things. Straightening my hair in the mirror, I made sure that I looked passably cleaned up, not like I had spent a good hour, or more, fucking another woman. Soon enough I would have to deal with my husband, but that could be another day.