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Jenn & Tom Ch. 01

By: silverwhisper



It all began about a year ago or two. Jenn and Tom just celebrated their third anniversary and decided they were ready to start a family. But after two years of failure, Jenn's OB-GYN referred them to a fertility specialist. The doctor promptly ordered an exam for both. It turned out that scar tissue from an ovarian cyst, in conjunction with the low motility of Tom's sperm, made it unlikely that they'd ever have children naturally.

During the time they were dating seriously, they daydreamed often about the kinds of kids they would have...even picked out a list of 5 boy and girl names they could both agree on. Jenn dreamt of being the mom in the neighborhood who was known for having the best chocolate chip cookies; Tom, of being a t-ball coach. But to learn all that was for nothing...

They rode home from the doctor's office in silence. Without saying a word, Tom went straight to the kitchen and after getting two wine glasses, opened a bottle of pinot noir. Silently, he filled the two glasses and walked over to Jenn, who was in the living room, hidden in the far right corner of their loveseat, almost fetal, her dark tresses completely obscuring her face.

Setting the wine down on coasters, Tom climbed over to his silent wife and without a word, began massaging her shoulders until soon, the tears began to fall. Jenn turned to him and for a long time, they just held each other in the corner of the loveseat as the sobs came faster and faster, stifling them both until there was nothing left in them but the anguish. Finally, the sadness reached a decrescendo and they returned to quietly mourning the future that was lost to them now, desperate to comfort one another but too scared to speak and unable to breathe.

Tom leaned over and caressed her cheek slowly, tenderly, for agonizingly long minutes until Jenn finally cracked a half-hearted smile.

"Hey, we have each other, you know," he smiled, but not entirely convincingly.

Desperate not to stay miserable for the entire night, Jenn seized the conversational lifeline and held on to it with all her might. She smiled equally unconvincingly at her husband. "That we do," she said and put her hand on his as he continued to caress her face.

She could see that Tom was working up to saying something, and uncertain whether she should say something to prompt him or stay silent and let him get there, simply looked at him quizzically. It was her way: nurturing, not confrontational.

"Baby," he began, "this is my fault. I'm so sorry for bringing this on you."

Shocked, Jenn looked at her husband. "What in the world are you talking about? It was me, the cyst—"

"—but you didn't know you had the scar tissue. That wasn't your fault. Who would have known that it was there? No, this is my fault."

Confused and now slightly frustrated at not getting an answer, she said, "How is that possible?"

"Well, you know how we're supposed to visualize all the wonderful things we wanted for the kids while we were trying?"

"Yeah?"

Tom flushed and looked at his feet. "Well, I—when we were—I...I was sometimes thinking about something else," he almost whispered.

Jenn couldn't help feeling a bit betrayed and hurt, and Tom became the target of her frustration at their joint infertility. "You what?" she demanded in an uncharacteristically icy tone.

Without looking up, Tom passed her the wineglass, which she accepted impatiently. Taking a long drink out of his, he said softly, "I fantasize about you being with someone else. Someones else."

It was Jenn's turn to take an extended pull from her glass. She started slowly. "So all the times we were making love, keeping that stupid damned schedule, taking temperature, all that crap, as we tried to realize our dream of starting a family, you were envisioning me as some kind of cheap slut?" Something in Jenn snapped in that moment. Her voice rose as she continued, "Every time we were trying to bring children into this world, you were thinking of me as a whore, you asshole?! You pathetic—just what the hell is wrong with you?!"

Jenn knew she was screaming now but didn't care. "I'm your fucking wife, Tom, not some drunk, frat house groupie, or one of those porn actresses trying to break the world record for taking the most cocks––your fucking wife!"

Tom gaped at his wife as she continued on her tirade. "How dare you think of me like that? Here I am, trying to make you a father, and you're thinking about how you wish I were some cum-guzzling whore who spreads her legs for any random dick? Is that what you want?"

As she stared at him in her rage, she noticed that his cock, never particularly large but always big enough for her needs, was straining the front of his jeans, and bigger than she ever saw it.

Tom's eyes are glazed over for a moment then noticed where her eyes were. He adjusted, to hide the commotion in his jeans, but it was too late.

Repelled, Jenn asked coldly, "So is that what we've come to? Now I'm just another pussy to you?"

"No, no, no! Jenn, it isn't like that!"

"Then just what the fuck is it like?"

"It's that...baby, I love you, and only you. You know that, right?"

Jenn rolled her eyes and snapped, "Yes, I know that. So?"

Tom opened his mouth several times, but no words came out. Frustrated, Jenn demanded, "For fuck's sake, what the hell is this about?"

Finally, Tom said quietly but firmly, "I want you to feel like the beautiful, pretty, sexy and gorgeous woman that you are." He became louder as he continued, "I want the lights on when we make love. I want to see you as you are. And damn it, I want you to see in you what I see every time I look at you."

"What the hell does that have to do with fantasizing about me with other men?"

"Do you remember how you told me once that you never felt more loved than after we have sex?"

Jenn saw where this was going. "So more sex equals 'Jenn has a healthier self-esteem'? And from there, I suppose it's reasonable to extrapolate that 'Jenn in the middle of a gangbang' equals healthiest self-esteem? Is that it?"

"Well, OK, yeah, if you put it that way, it sounds stupid, but..."

"Save it, Tom," Jenn snapped as she finished the rest of her glass in a swallow and retrieved the bottle from the kitchen. After filling her glass, she set it on the coffee table. She sat forward, glass still in hand, swirling the wine and admiring its rich color, trying to make heads or tails of his bizarre revelation.

Tom followed suit, remaining silent, uncertain what, if anything, to say.

After a painfully pregnant silence, Jenn looked at her husband again; the front of his jeans was still impressively swollen. "Well, I can see that you really like the idea, darling." An idea began to take shape in her mind.

Tom gave an awkward smile. "Yeah, um...sorry about that, but—"

And for the first time in the past six hours, Jenn laughed—he just looked so innocent and child-like. The countless moments of anxiety, the years of hurt and frustration, all of it came spilling out, a storm-swollen river finally bursting through the dam. Tom soon joined in, caught up in the swell of relief, and his frustration and guilt also washed away. He lay against Jenn as they both continued laughing for a few minutes, the decrescendo of the laughing fit now upon them.

Tom leaned over to his wife. "I'm sorry I ever mentioned it, all right? It's really unfair to you, I know that. I was being selfish, I shouldn't have said anything, it was just my guilt—"

Jenn shushed him with two fingers over his lips and rolled on top of him. "I guess I should be glad that you're being honest about it. But you know, that really doesn't have anything to do with our infertility. Our, meaning, you know, the both of us?"

He grimaced. "Maybe. Maybe it's just that I feel...well, I guess I feel impotent. I mean, really: slow swimmers? That kinda hits a guy where he lives, you know?"

He had that look, the one that meant that he was dwelling on it. Resolved not to let anything take them back to that depressing place they spent most of the morning and all afternoon, Jenn shushed him again, this time with a kiss.

For the first time in their history together, Tom didn't kiss her back. Usually when they kissed, it wasn't just lips touching, it wasn't just husband and wife expressing their love: it was nothing less than two souls intertwining. The first time they really kissed, it was so soulful that for the rest of the day, Jenn couldn't help but trace her lips with her fingers, remember the electricity of it.

Initially taken aback by Tom's refusal to meet her halfway, Jenn took it as a challenge and grabbed him with both hands. That got the desired response, and he kissed her with a kind of intensity that was missing the past few months, when their libidos were trumped by planners and thermometers. Pleasantly surprised at his reaction, she helped him reverse their positions off the loveseat and down to the carpet.

She could feel his desirable length against her thigh, and driven initially by the wish to keep his mind off his misplaced guilt, slowly unzipped his jeans. She grinned at his sudden gasp, and after flashing him a devious smile, switched positions with him again and pulled his pants down his still-slim hips. His erection poked through the flap of his boxers, his pre-cum making his head glisten under the living room's track lighting. Slowly re-positioning herself, she eagerly engulfed him in her mouth, savoring the beautiful sweet/salty taste of his excitement and the velvety smoothness of that sensitive skin.

Rewarded with another, louder gasp, Jenn couldn't help giggling, letting her husband enjoy the vibrations that created in her throat. Not that Tom was long enough to require deep throat: at just under six inches on most occasions, that wasn't necessary, but the sensation did travel and it was one he loved.

Steadying herself with her right hand, she began untucking his shirt with her left and playing with his already-stiff nipples, gently tweaking and tugging at them. His moans became louder as his breathing became faster. She knew that he wouldn't last that much longer now.

She pulled away and lightly slapped at the shaft of his cock. His eyes shot wide open as he yelped in surprise.

"You've been a very, very bad boy, Tom." She slapped it again, a little harder this time.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. She could see that he was hesitating, not knowing the steps to this new dance. Jenn didn't know exactly where all this was coming from herself, but she was enjoying the hell out of it. Maybe it was a way to take back some control over her life? Jenn didn't know just then and didn't want to stay out of the moment. She practically glared at her husband, and said coolly, "'Sorry' doesn't cut it. Put those hands of yours to work and take off my jeans."

In seconds, they were off, her panties rolled up with them.

Lying down beside the coffee table now, she began stroking herself. "You want this, don't you," she taunted.

Unable to speak, he gulped and nodded furiously.

"Well, you're gonna have to earn the right to put that dick in me with your tongue."

Tom jumped off the loveseat and buried his face between her legs. As he began lavishing attention on her lower lips, Jenn's eyes fluttered as he drew forth her moans. It was a night of firsts already: she was never the aggressor, never talked like this to him. Their lovemaking was always tender and caring, a delicate reflection of their gentleness with each other. They rarely even talked during sex, allowing silent looks to handle what little communication there was, although through the course of their relationship, it became somewhat scripted, especially in the past two years. Not to say that it wasn't good: it was always good, but a bit predictable.

Jenn's departure from the script however must have sparked some creative thoughts in Tom, it seemed, because it was quite a surprise when Tom started doing something new himself. He began by licking in long, deep strokes from her clitoral hood all the way down. If she hadn't been wet already, this would have seen to it. With each wonderfully lazy lick, his tongue lingered longer at her anus until he began slowly working it inside. As he did, his fingers began caressing her clitoris.

"Mm...I don't know where you got that idea, but it's a keeper," Jenn cried while she furiously worked her t-shirt and sports bra up over her breasts and began giving him a show, playing with her nipples.

It was Tom's turn to chuckle now. Pausing to take a breath, he switched his tongue to her clit. Steadying himself with one hand for a moment, he slowly worked a finger where his tongue had been. Rewarded by a long moan and now in the right position, with his other hand he thrust three fingers deep within her, which he would never have been able to do if not for having already eaten her. He began stabbing at the center of her passion with his tongue now.

Jenn could feel herself drawing nearer to that familiar rainbow of color, but what her husband was now doing shot her past that colorful fountain and directly towards a storm cloud that rumbled menacingly as she drew ever nearer. Finally, in a flash followed by a deafening roar, Jenn lost consciousness.

She awoke to Tom gently running his tongue along her labia. He looked up and smiled knowingly. "So, did I earn the right to get inside you?"

She reached down and pulled him up. He pushed himself all the way in easily, another first, and Jenn moaned, savoring the feel of her husband deep within. Tom adjusted his angle downward so that the base of him rubbed against her sensitive button, a trick that had been new to Jenn the first time he did it years ago. She knew from experience he couldn't finish in this position, and instinctively understood this change as part of their nonverbal communication: "I love you too much for you not to come first, " he was saying.

Jenn laid back and enjoyed her husband's luscious strokes. She wondered idly what it might look like to someone else watching from the kitchen, which reminded her of her husband's strange confession earlier.

"So, tell me about these someones," she said playfully.

Tom froze, mid-thrust. "What?"

Jenn pushed with her hips, forcing Tom's length fully into her again. "You heard me: tell me about this obsession of yours."

"You sure?" If she hadn't already been so hot, the look of surprise and disbelief on Tom's face would have made her laugh.

Jenn contracted her muscles tightly by way of answer. Her hurt and anger less fresh now, Jenn recalled that she used to have a fantasy like that, before Tom. She was very curious to see how her husband fetishized it.

Once his eyes returned to their normal size, they took on a faraway look. "Well, we're at the Hot Spot. You're wearing that red dress that you think is too short. There's these three or four guys standing at the bar, maybe they're all friends, ogling you. We've been dancing and having a few drinks. I'm a little tired, so I sit, but you aren't ready to stop yet. One of the guys comes over, he's pretty good looking, and asks you to dance. I nod when you look at me and I turn to watch. It's a fast tune now and he's a damned good dancer."

His breathing got faster now, his thrusts deeper. "What I can't see because of the crowd is that with each song, his hands roam further over you until after half an hour, every chance he gets he's rubbing his cock against you. You're going with it because his dancing is hot and you're enjoying it. After a while, he asks if you'd like to go to a party he and his friends are having at a nearby hotel."

Jenn started groaning now: dancing always got her hot & bothered.

"You remember where and who you are, and leave the dance floor in a hurry, but not before he presses a hotel room key card and slip of paper into your hand. When you get back to the bar where I'm sitting, it's obvious you're turned on, and I ask what you're holding. He's written his name, Greg, the name of the hotel and a room number on the paper. You tell me what he said and I suggest we go in a while. You're surprised, but don't argue, either." Her head was thrown back now as with one hand she reached down to pinch at his nipples, making him grunt in appreciation. The scent of her own arousal began to fill the room.

"When we get there about half an hour later with a bottle of Grey Goose™, the guys from the bar are already there and have a small bar set up. It's a suite: in one room, the TV is playing some porn that they're sort of watching and in another, the rest are arguing about what music to put on the stereo in the other room. One of them is Greg. When we walk in, he turns and smiles to see you and wins the argument by putting on some dance music. I can see it in his eyes as he imagines just what he wants to do to you." His breathing was becoming shallower; his eyes, narrowed in concentration.

"We make some small-talk, fix ourselves some more drinks. Greg asks you to dance, and this time, you don't even look at me: you just get up and start dancing. I'm not sure how it starts, maybe I'm distracted making small-talk with the other guys, when I turn and see you two making out. His hands are all over you. As you turn, I can see your face just in time to see as you give me a sexy smile and unzip your dress."

As she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, Jenn knew she wouldn't last much longer, but it was a fair bet what deserved more of the credit—her husband and his now-frantic fucking or the story he was telling. She could feel a wet spot forming beneath her and she smiled to herself, knowing that here at least, neither of them had to sleep on it.

"Anyway, it turns into a gang bang on the bed: you sucking one guy with another guy under you, guys trading positions, you coming over and over. First, they get behind you and take you that way. Then each of them moves to your mouth. Mainly, I watch you with them, and after a while, you've had all of them in your pussy and mouth as they make you taste yourself on them. Once they've all had you both ways, Greg shoos the other guys away: he wants you all to himself." Tom began using fuller, more languid strokes, trying to postpone his release as sweat streamed down his cheek to his chin.

"He's huge, gotta be at least eight and the size of your fist. He pushes you to your knees. You know what he wants. You start deep-throating him, trying not to gag on his size. You know he's close to shooting, but he wants to stop. He pulls you back to the bed and growls, 'Get on your hands and knees.' As you do, he gets behind you so that now you're both facing me directly."

Jenn never felt Tom so deep inside her. He was right: being filled with her husband did make her happy.

"He pushes that monster into you and demands, 'Tell me how much you like this, Jenn'. You scream, 'I love your cock, Greg! Please ram that beast into me good and hard while my husband watches!' while looking right at me." Tom was grunting now with each thrust as perspiration continued to run down his body, mingling with Jenn's own.

"Incredibly, he picks up the tempo and he's going deeper now than you've ever had it. 'Yeah, you like taking my cock while hubby watches, don't you? You like making hubby a cuckold, huh?' It's all you can do to concentrate long enough to scream out, 'God, don't stop fucking me with your cock, Greg!'"

Jenn's eyelids fluttered, lost in the thought of it. Her orgasm was building, taunting her just at the edge of her vision.

"While he rides you, he's working a finger into your virgin ass. He goes slowly so he doesn't hurt you. He roars, 'How do you like my finger up your ass while you take my dick? You wanna try taking my cock there next?' 'I'll do anything, take anything, if it means you'll fuck me with that cock again,' you scream."


Jenn & Tom Ch. 01



Jenn's lungs began to burn as her husband's cock kept pushing her closer to release. The incredible power behind each stroke were already a huge turn-on for her, but combined with the story...

"After watching you for a while, I can't take it anymore. Seeing you take him has me so hot I jump to the foot of the bed and slip myself in your mouth, already wet from the other men, as I watch Greg fuck you from behind with his cock and finger"

There was a white-hot explosion in Jenn's head as she finally came. Tom yelled in ecstasy, coming in this position for the first time. Exhausted, he fell beside his wife and for a few minutes, they lay there on the carpet, unable to move.

Finally, Jenn turned to her husband, smiling her happy post-coital smile and said, "OK, now I think I understand the appeal of that fantasy."

Tom arched an eyebrow. "Yeah? Care to hear what happens next?"

Jenn hit him with a cushion.

The following months saw a transition that occurred quite gradually, with Jenn slowly becoming more comfortable with expressing her desires. From there, they began discussing their fantasies openly. On a number of occasions, Jenn asked Tom to re-tell the story of what they came to call "the night of firsts".

Although they built a vocabulary of signals through their years together, her more active role in the bedroom—or other rooms of the house—added a whole new dimension, as might be expected. Part of it was undoubtedly the lack of pressure to have sex when the time was right. Without that expectation and pressure, they could rediscover one another, take all the steps that they didn't make time for the past two years.

One thing Jenn shared with her husband very early during this transformation was a fascination with anal sex. Tom was shocked to learn that his hitherto slightly prudish wife had that interest. He was however completely unsurprised that she never felt comfortable admitting it. Given her lack of sexual confidence, it made sense, in retrospect.

Although the choreography of their lovemaking shifted considerably during that time, the one constant all along remained their deep and abiding affection and love. Indeed, it seemed to both of them that this greater openness strengthened their relationship with one another.

Of course, Jenn did wonder just where this road that they were traveling would lead, but as always happened when musing over that question, she resolved that whatever the destination, it was the journey and the quality of the company that made it worthwhile.



Jenn & Tom Ch. 02



Jenn gave her husband a mostly respectable kiss through the open car window. "Have fun on your trip, honey."

Tom sighed, but winked at his wife. "Thanks, but this one is gonna be tough––almost tougher than leaving our bed for a whole week." He waggled his eyebrows in his half-serious, half-joking way.

She grinned impishly. "Then I'm just going to have to make our bed more interesting, to keep you here more."

He looked bewildered, and just a bit scared. "More interesting? How would that be possible?"

"I'll just have to find a way to show you while you're gone, now won't I?"

Tom responded by leaning into the car and kissing her deeply. It never ceased to surprise Jenn just how electric his kisses could be, and as always, this one left her gasping, wanting more. The things that man could do with his tongue…She forced herself to stop daydreaming before she got too distracted.

"Now, when I get back, I'm gonna show you just how much I missed you," he smiled confidently. As he turned to carry his luggage into the airport, Jenn swatted her husband's butt and admired the view as he walked away. Only after he could no longer be seen through the sliding glass doors did she pull away from the terminal.

She sighed deeply: one whole week without him and that wonderful tongue. Whatever was she going to do? Or perhaps more accurately, whatever was she going to do first?

Tom's kiss at the airport and the memory of his tight ass were so powerful that during the drive home, Jenn had her hand deep in her sweats by the time she hit the highway. She didn't let herself finish, wanting to extend the slow burn until she could enjoy it properly, rather than being interrupted at an inconvenient time by noticing that she just missed her exit.

Jenn went home and headed straight for the shower. After starting the water, she padded back to the bedroom so the water could heat up. She stripped off her sneakers and sweats quickly, smiling as she remembered the look on Tom's face when they left home for the airport as he swatted her bottom and noticed that there was nothing on under the sweats.

She pulled her dark hair out of the ponytail and gave it a shake. As she walked back towards the bathroom, she spied her reflection in the mirror and wondered if the woman she'd been just a year ago would even recognize the woman looking back.

The outside looked more or less the same: long dark hair, soft brown eyes and full lips that were quick to smile. OK, the thick eyebrows were a bit different, trimmed at a more severe angle now, and her cheekbones were accentuated a bit more these days by her makeup, when she wore any. Her broad shoulders and generous hips were the same, of course, although her abs were a bit more toned than previously: they did see a lot more use now, she reflected with a grin. If she was more rounded in form than the ridiculously chimerical 36-24-36 ideal, well, so much the better.

But as she looked into the eyes of the woman in the mirror, she could see the changes inside: sexually confident, at peace with her body, a tigress in bed. The woman who dared her to look back was a woman who delighted in the idea of being with men and women for her husband's enjoyment.

Although they never seriously discussed inviting another person into their marital bed, it was becoming a more common shared fantasy during sex. From time to time, after a few glasses of pinot noir, they would sometimes discuss their friends and acquaintances as possibilities in an abstract fashion, but invariably ruled all of them out: no attraction; known resistance to the idea; in one case, a fear of STDs. But the idea itself continued to grow in power, as a hurricane might while coursing through the ocean.

An involuntary shudder of both excitement and cold interrupted Jenn's train of thought, and she realized she'd been standing in front of the mirror for several minutes. With a laugh at how easily sidetracked she was, she padded back to the bathroom and the siren song of the removable shower head.

As Jenn stepped into the bathroom, she was struck by the curtain of steam that already formed thanks to her inattention. Smiling to herself, she got into the shower and savored the enveloping warmth of the mist. It was a poor substitute for her husband's embrace, but it would have to do for the next few days.

That thought recalled the memory of the way her husband looked while walking into the airport terminal earlier. While most people dressed for comfort when flying—and Tom was no exception—there was something about the way he filled out a pair of black jeans. Mm…Jenn turned into the water so that the stream could massage her already-sensitive breasts and follow the curve of her body down between her legs.

After enjoying the sensation for a minute, Jenn realized that what she really wanted was to have something inside her, but didn't want to leave the cozy surroundings of the shower. Looking around the shower turned up nothing suitable, until she spied a present Tom must have left for her: a new, bright purple vibrator.

Enjoying the idea of being able to tell him all about her first test drive with it, she eagerly picked it up for a moment, enjoying the heft of it. She tentatively turned it on, but nothing happened. She smiled to herself, knowing that Tom must have forgotten to add the batteries.

Jenn put it back down for now and removed the shower head from its holder. Many mornings started off so pleasantly with it, especially lately. Today would be no exception, or so she thought.

Jenn luxuriated in the warmth of the water for a moment longer before turning the shower head towards her breasts, watching as the sensation of the water and the massage setting brought her nipples fully to attention. As she sighed contentedly, her left hand reached up and began pinching and stroking one nipple as the right languidly removed the shower head from its housing and slowly guided the jet of water towards its ultimate destination.

With the first kiss of water to her sensitive and engorged clit, she cried out in her pleasure. "God, but I wish you were," she moaned to her absent husband.

Then she had an idea. If she enjoyed it when Tom told her fantasies while they made love, why shouldn't she try it herself?

With a twinge of regret, Jenn turned the shower head from her crotch and aimed it underneath with one hand while reaching around and snaking a finger into her once-virgin ass. Already wet, it was easy to slip first one, then two fingers inside as she put the shower head back where she needed it and began fantasizing.

Jenn imagined herself alone in a wooded glade during a hot summer day. A small stream trickled merrily nearby and light flashed as it reflected on its surface. She was wearing a cotton sundress in a white on black print and a matching broad-brimmed hat that accentuated her full figure and thick, raven hair. The scent of moss filled the air.

As she passed a particularly large tree, she could see something behind it: a young man of perhaps nineteen or twenty, so beautiful in his nakedness that Jenn couldn't breathe for a moment. She crouched down immediately in order not to draw his attention and soon realized that he was jerking himself off. He was backlit, the sun profiling him as Jenn's eyes continued down his chiseled body as she confirmed her suspicions. The sight of him, combined with the heat, made Jenn a bit faint.

She slowly crept forward before realizing what she was doing: here she was, a married woman, trying to get closer to a naked man. Why? But as quickly as the thought flashed in her mind, it was gone again, and she continued approaching this incredible-looking creature.

Suddenly, he stopped and turned directly towards her. "I see you," he called in a deep, rumbling voice that made her knees weak.

Seeing no point in staying in a crouch, she stood up. "And here I am," she answered, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a married woman to be caught spying on a beautiful man pleasuring himself.

"So come on over here."

Her mind screamed, "What are you doing? He's practically half your age!" but she almost ran to him. God, he was even better-looking up close: dark-complected, piercing green eyes that rested above pronounced cheekbones, full, sensuous lips, an appealingly rakish angle to his eyebrows…Jenn knew that she needed to be closer to him.

As she got closer, he smiled haughtily. "You liked watching me, didn't you? I bet it excited you."

Dazzled by his beauty, Jenn could only nod and whisper, "Yes."

"Yeah , I bet it did." Putting his hands on his hips, he just smiled and his swollen member jumped. "Show me how much."

Without even thinking about it, Jenn fell to her knees before him in the classic position and began licking the head of his cock, savoring the salty sweetness of his pre-cum.

Why was she so powerless to resist him? What was it that made her want—no, need to submit?

He reached down and pulled her hat off. "Mm…that's good. You do that like you love giving head."

Jenn looked up, her mouth full of his head and just an inch or two of his shaft and merely nodded, meeting his intense gaze.

"That's it: keep looking me in the eye as you do that."

Jenn hummed her agreement, making him shift his weight. Then she began to try to take all of him. As always, she used the upper part of her palate to stroke the spot behind his head, forcing him to moan. It took a minute or two but slowly, she was able to take his full length and was rewarded for her determination by the intoxicating aroma of his pre-cum from the base of him with each stroke. She matched the rhythm he used when she first spied him, using long, slow, deep strokes.

"Oo, yeah," he grunted. "Show me how much you like sucking my dick. Damn, yeah!"

He shifted his weight again and after a while, began thrusting into her mouth. Jenn could smell the scent of her own arousal, made sharper by the wrongness of it all: a married woman sucking off a complete stranger—not even knowing his name! No—not just sucking him off, but worshipping his cock!

He began grunting more now, thrusting with renewed purpose and she knew he was nearly done. She bore down on him now, determined to swallow every drop, now that she could feel how close he was.

Then he surprised her by slipping out of her mouth. He couldn't have been more than a few strokes away. Shocked, she looked up at him.

He met her gaze and gave her a smile that almost made her fall over. "No, I don't want to waste it by having you swallow. I need more than just that," and as he said it knelt down beside her.

He gently pushed her back onto the ground. "Turn over," he commanded, and without hesitation, she did precisely that, gathering up the skirt of her dress beneath her knees. He got behind her and after raising the skirt over her back, paused for a moment. "That is one hell of an ass. I've got plans for that in a bit. But for now…" and so saying parted her lower lips with his head and eased himself halfway in.

The coolness of her own saliva on him was shocking when it encountered her heat. He remained still for a moment, savoring her wetness and giving her time to adjust. Suddenly, he withdrew, only to dip three fingers deep inside and wet them. He quickly re-entered and sank half-way in again before he began slowly working deeper.

Then, just like Greg in the fantasy that Tom told her, he began working one wet finger into her ass. Jenn bucked against it involuntarily and pushed the stranger's cock deeper.

He slid a second finger in as he finally plunged in up to the hilt. Jenn moaned loudly in response, causing him to chuckle.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like that. I bet you wanna take this up your ass, too," he demanded, making his cock jump within her.

Lost in his glorious fullness, Jenn gasped, "Yes, please, put it in my ass after you fuck my pussy."

He laughed. "Once I fill you with my cum you gotta earn the right to have this in your ass." And with that, he grabbed onto her hips with one hand and began thrusting all the way in with both his cock and fingers, slipping in a third finger now.

Jenn cried out as the fantasy lover began ravaging her pussy while she continued to do the same to her rectum in the shower. She imagined how beautiful it would feel to have him empty into her, then turn around and lick up whatever was left on his cock in preparation for taking it in her ass next.

Her orgasm blindsided her, almost making her fall to the floor of the shower stall. Her convulsions became more pronounced as she withdrew the shower head from her clit but left her fingers. Being able to feel each shudder was incredible: was this what it felt like for men? That certainly would explain a lot…

Putting the shower head back in place, she resolved to continue until her dream lover did everything he set out to do to her.

Jenn pushed back harder and harder against his cock and fingers, until she felt him stiffen and suddenly fill her with his seed. She kept pushing up against him, milking what she could out of him. Incredibly, he kept pushing until she felt his length subside, although his fingers continued.

Withdrawing, he fell upon the ground beside her, panting. Jenn descended upon his still-impressive detumescence and greedily began cleaning him with her mouth, delighting in the mingling of their essences. "Keep that up and I'll be able to take that wonderful ass with something more interesting than just my fingers," he growled.

Jenn redoubled her efforts and with one hand began stroking his stirring cock.

He grunted appreciatively, "That's it, just like that. Mm, you're very good at sucking cock. You must really want me to take your ass." Was it his air of command that made her submissive, that made her need to fawn over him like this?

Jenn moaned, letting the vibrations transfer to him. As she did, she was rewarded by the sudden sweetness of his pre-cum slowly making its presence known.

He pushed her away. "So do you want this in your ass now?"

"Yes, please shove your cock in me, fuck my ass until you fill it with your cum!"

He got on top of her, throwing her legs over his shoulders. Jenn reached down in preparation for him, but he slid it all the way home in her pussy. Gasping, Jenn demanded, "What are you doing?"

He chuckled. "You really want it in your ass? Stroke yourself and beg for it."

Jenn's hands immediately shot towards her crotch. With one hand, she stroked her clit while the other snaked a finger inside her alongside him. "Please, please fuck me in the ass! I need to feel your cock in my ass! Please give it to me!"

In the confines of the shower stall, Jenn slipped in a third finger and began assaulting herself furiously. "Mm, I wish you were here for this, baby," she moaned, drunk on pleasure and fantasy.

He withdrew from her and without hesitation, pushed himself halfway in. She gasped at the introduction of his cock. As big as he was, she didn't know how it slid so far into her so easily, but she bore down on it all the same, needing to feel his full length, needing to feel him shoot.

He grabbed Jenn by the hips and began thrusting now, easing deeper inside each time. When he finally had her fully impaled, he paused for a moment and she felt him "hop". The intensity of the sensation was breathtaking. Unlike anything she knew before, it was like the feeling she got at her first concert. It was the same electricity filling her and lifting her, yet at the same time pulling her deeper into something darker.

Then he began to thrust slowly, again using long, deep strokes. Jenn almost passed out from the sheer force of his desire. It engulfed her, swallowed her, obliterated her. "God, yes! Fuck my ass harder! Ravage me!"

Now he began using short, furious thrusts as he increased the pace. "Play with yourself: show me how much you love taking my cock in your backdoor!"

Jenn began pinching and tugging at her clitoris. "Mm…I love the way you fuck me! Don't stop! Don't stop!"

He snarled, "God, your ass is so hot and tight! I'm gonna come!" He was coming harder now than he did the first time: each time his cock jerked, she could feel it intensely. She continued stroking her clit until she was ready and shortly, she began convulsing. With each contraction, she knew she was milking more of his cum from his still-stiff cock.

Jenn's cries of ecstasy echoed in the bathroom as she fell to her knees, her fingers still within. She remained there until she felt confident she could stand again. She slipped her fingers out slowly and with the other hand, grabbed the new toy and ran to the bedside to look for batteries.

Heedless of the water and suds she was dripping everywhere, she launched herself onto the king-sized bed she shared with her husband and ransacked the bedside table where Tom kept batteries for the TV remote. Finding the package, she tore it open and stuffed the four AA batteries into it. She gave the bright purple toy a curious glance before positioning it and ramming it as far as it would go. It slid in easily.

Scared of turning it on just yet, she began to follow the same lingering, deep strokes her dream lover used, but unsatisfied, her urgency finally outweighed her anxiety and she turned it to the lowest setting. As the toy leapt to life, a long, low cry escaped her lips.

But after a few moments, she realized it wasn't enough.

Almost berserk with passion, she slowly but steadily turned it up as far as it would go until it was humming away frantically below. Although it was beautiful, it wasn't what she needed right now.

Jenn reached over blindly to her bedside and finally found the dildo, the first sex toy Tom bought her. She licked it longingly, momentarily captivated by her taste, still on it. Then she quickly pushed it towards her ass. It, too, slipped inside easily, thanks to her earlier attention and the suds from the shower. Jenn sighed happily.

Yes, that was enough.

Slowly, she pushed it farther in, imagining it was the stranger and unwittingly began moaning aloud. "Mm, yes, I need your cock as far up my ass as possible," she moaned to him as she writhed in ecstasy on the bed.

As Jenn tossed on the bed, her eyes happened to alight upon the small wedding picture on her bedside. Jenn froze. What was she doing, fantasizing about another man in her wedding bed, wishing this stranger would do things to her that her own husband only recently began doing?

Another orgasm caught her completely by surprise, lost in her internal conflict. It was a veritable tidal wave crashing upon a sleeping village, and its force carried away her reservations and self-doubt, just so much flotsam on the receding waters.

Maddened now by lust, Jenn continued her moaning. "Yes, please, fuck my ass harder with that huge cock! I need to feel you shoot your cum in my ass! Ravage it!"

Caught up in her need, Jenn continued fucking herself with the dildo as the vibrator continued on the highest setting, and now another orgasm was upon her before she knew it, this one so intense that she was sure her screams alarmed the neighbors.

After a few minutes, Jenn felt ashamed. Tom asked for months to watch her masturbate while using a toy on her ass, but each time, she didn't feel comfortable doing it. To have done it now while fantasizing about someone else, even if it wasn't a real person…was it a betrayal? Was she now, in some way, an adulterer? Had she betrayed her wedding vows?

"Of course not! It was just fantasy," her dream self scoffed. "It didn't mean anything! "

But why did she feel guilty, then?

Jenn resolved to tell Tom about it when they next spoke. She shuddered, but whether it was in anxiety or an aftershock, she couldn't be sure. 



Jenn & Tom Ch. 03



Tom stared out the tiny window of the airliner, seeing neither the passing clouds nor the way the sun gilded them. Even as the plane continued climbing, his thoughts were already at cruising altitude, with the amazing way his wife kissed him. It was like touching the center rail or something.

On second thought, no it wasn't. No, it was like nothing else he ever experienced. Jenn liked to joke that his lips were his biggest erogenous zone and that wasn't too far off the mark. He was surprised to find his fingers were tracing the outline of her kiss.

The coach-class seat was becoming progressively less and less comfortable. Tom put his folding tray in the down position and tried to think about something else, think of a distraction. Of course, the jet hadn't reached cruising altitude just yet, so he couldn't dig out his laptop. It would have been nice to watch a movie or listen to some music.

"Or add to the sex journal."

The thought came unbidden. The sex journal was an idea he had years ago but never felt comfortable mentioning to Jenn. It wasn't really a sex journal so much as a stroke journal, a diary of the fantasies he had or thought up. Tom completely forgot about it until a few weeks ago.

That was when he found it again, tucked away in a folder he completely forgot about. He hid it two years ago, when they started trying to start a family—no sense in splitting his focus. It was weird to read it again. It was weirder still to see the number of times his fantasy from the "night of firsts" appeared in various ways, where Jenn takes one or more lovers who turn her into a sex-drunk slave.

And then there was his perennial favorite, the one that dominated his dreams for the past few weeks: the fantasy when Jenn finally grants his wish to take her ass. Just thinking about it made Tom shift uncomfortably in his seat again. Despite Jenn's revelation that she wanted to try it during their "night of firsts", they hadn't yet—at least, not with his cock. Two very well-lubricated fingers were as far as they got so far. Tom was concerned that perhaps his enthusiasm for the idea might have scared her although she swore that wasn't it. But if that wasn't the reason, what could it be?

Tom sighed, drawing a curious look from the passenger next to him. Well, no matter: he'd waited this long. A little longer wouldn't hurt. Still, watching her prance around this morning in those sweats didn't help matters. The sight of her as she bustled about this morning was almost unbearable. The knowledge that under her sweats she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing was torture, but nothing compared to the torment of his conviction that she was masturbating on the drive home.

Did she let herself cum, or would she prefer to draw it out, prolong it until she got home? Would she find the present he left for her in the shower? Would she fight to keep her orgasms silent, or would she throw the doors open and let her cries of ecstasy ring throughout the house?

A familiar stirring in his jeans forced Tom to debate briefly whether one could join the mile-high club flying solo, but he reluctantly thought better of it. Given the commotion beneath the tray, it was probably for the best that he remain seated and not draw any attention to himself.

Just then, the captain announced that they reached cruising altitude. Before the pilot even got to mentioning that it was now OK to use electronic devices, Tom had the laptop out and booting up.

He had a lot of writing to do.