8 comments/ 120454 views/ 3 favorites Loving Wife By: Timkitten Jan and I have been married for ten years, and today was our anniversary. After a boring day in the office, I was driving towards home and I stopped at a supermarket to buy some gifts for her. We hadn't made love for quite a few months now. We'd both fallen into that too comfortable stage, both busy at work, and with our two young children rampaging around the house, too tired at night to do no more than just collapse into bed. I had arranged for Jan's mother to take our children for the weekend, so we could spend the weekend together on our own, hoping to restore the love and passion with which we started our relationship. I arrived home before Jan and laid the table. That may be the only laying I do this weekend, I thought to myself with a rye smile. I'm not very good at cooking, but I'd bought Jan's favourite microwave take-away meal, two good bottles of red wine, and of course, Champagne. The dozen red roses were looking tired and limp, a little like me I thought. Jan sent a text message saying she would be home in ten minutes, exactly the same amount of time the meal would take to heat up. As she pulled up in the car, the microwave pinged, and I hurriedly placed the food on the plates. The meal went well and we drank the wine, a bottle each, and we were both at that slightly tipsy stage. I tentatively suggested we took the champagne upstairs to bed. Jan agreed, but said she wanted a shower first. As she got into the shower, I took two glasses and the bottle to the bedroom, drew the curtains and waited patiently for her to join me. Jan entered the bedroom dressed only in her black silk dressing gown. This always hi-lighted and complimented her beautiful long blonde hair. She stood there looking at me for a moment, then with a shrug of her shoulders allowed the gown to slip to the floor. I looked at her gorgeous body, still slim after having two children, her breasts fulsome and pert, her nipples erect. Her flawless skin still wet from the shower was slightly steaming. With a start I realised she'd shaved off her pubic hair, she'd never done that before. Swaying slightly, she parted her legs, licked her finger and started to rub her clit. I could feel my cock bulging in my pants, an erection hard enough to break a plate. I stumbled out of my clothes and went towards her. "Stop!" She said. "Sit in the chair, you are not to touch me until I say you can". I sat in the chair, slightly nervous as this was not like Jan at all. But I was feeling sexually highly charged and excited. Jan got onto the bed, reached over to the two dressing gowns on the back of the bedroom door and removed the tie cords. She tied a cord around each of her ankles, then tied the other ends to the bottom posts of our metal framed bed. Her legs were stretched as far apart as they possibly could be giving me the best possible view of her pussy. Jan placed the four pillows behind her so she was in a half sitting position and again licked her finger and started to gently rub her clit. With her other hand she gently caressed her breasts, every now again pinching her nipples. She inserted one finger then two into her cunt and brought her other hand down to part her lips of her newly smooth pussy. I could see her fingers sliding in and out and noticed they glistened with her wetness. Her vaginal lips were red and swollen and she was moving her fingers faster now. Every now and again she gave out a little moan, her sharp ice blue eyes looked fixedly at me. My cock was throbbing and my balls ached. I was so turned on by this so unlike Jan display that I started masturbating myself. In a tone as sharp as ice she said "No! Just watch, I'm going to come for you". She slid her hand under the pillow and produced a big black vibrator. I was shocked. I had no idea she had one. She twisted the end of it and I could hear a gentle buzzing sound. She placed the tip of it on her neck and slowly moved it towards the valley between her breasts. Then she massaged one nipple then the other with it, and continued to stroke her clit with her other hand. She inserted four fingers between her pussy lips and brought the vibrator down to her exposed erect clit, and rested it there. Her moans became more urgent and she suddenly thrust the vibrator into her cunt up to the hilt and I could see the juices squirting from her. She came with a shriek, shuddered, and lay back with a satisfied moan. I sat there, mesmerised, I just wanted to fuck her so hard, and just as I was about to stand up and jump on her, she sat up, and untied the cords from her ankles. She came over to me and grasped my cock, and led me by it to the bed. "Lie on your back" she said, an then spread my legs so she could tie each one up. She went to the wardrobe and bought out two silk scarves, and with these she tied one end to my wrists, the other ends to the headboard bedposts. A blindfold from an aeroplane trip we'd once made was placed over my eyes. "Wait there a minute" she said "I won't be long. We have to do this my way if it's going to work, OK?". I agreed. "You're not to talk, or say anything at all" She said, and then she went to the bathroom. Not a lot I could do anyway, but wait. She returned and I could feel her sit on the bed. My cock was flaccid now, but she gently lifted it up, and started to lick the pre cum off it. She stroked my balls and started giving me a blow job, and soon once again my cock grew to its full size. Just as I could bare the tension no longer and knew with the next move of her mouth down my shaft I would explode down her throat she stopped. Then I could feel her hand stroking around my pubic hair, teasing around the base of my cock, and pulling it gently. Then her hand was cold and wet, as she splashed water over my cock and balls. Then a different sensation, as she rubbed in some sort of lubricant it felt like. It was shaving cream! and she started to shave the hair off my shaft, then my balls, then all of my pubic hair. The feeling was incredible, tied up, unable to see, and being totally vulnerable, but all senses heightened to the extreme., she washed and then towelled me dry, and went back to the bathroom. She returned and inserted the very tip of my cock into her mouth, and massaged with her hands the area she'd just shaved. "Fuck!" I screamed. The after-shave burned into my balls and cock, but soon left me with a warm tingly sensation. I was aching to come. She stood up and sat astride me and slowly lowered herself on to my throbbing cock, just teasing it, rubbing her wet cunt all over it. I moaned, and she got off me and the bed. I could hear her fiddling around in the bedside drawer, she grabbed hold of my cock and slipped a small rubber band over it and under my balls, and then took it off, twisted it to shorten it and replaced it. "Oh my God! That's really painful" I complained. My balls were being thrust up and out, but then she started licking them. What an experience! They were so sensitive, I couldn't believe it. I was groaning in ecstasy. She placed another rubber band tight around the glans, which felt so erotic as she wanked my foreskin onto and off it. "Now! Now! Just get on top of me and fuck me now" I shouted. She once again straddled me and roughly begun to fuck me, as she humped to climax I could feel my own building up. With a yell I orgasmed with her, but because of the rubber bands so tight around my cock and balls, I was unable to shoot, the pressure just kept building up and up, and she didn't stop, she was multi orgasming. The ache in my balls was so intense now and my erection still hard, I was amazed to realise I was going to come again, and I did, just as the rubber band around my balls snapped. I spurted into her with such force she gasped, and I kept pumping the cum for ages more. She collapsed on top of me, both of us exhausted. After a while she untied my legs and arms, and then removed my blindfold. I blinked to adjust to the light, and saw Jan sitting naked on the chair grinning like a Cheshire cat. As I flexed my hand to restore circulation it brushed against something, or someone on the bed beside. I turned, and lying beside me was Jan's twin sister Claire, naked and panting. "Well I always knew, you fancied my sister, and she's always told me she wanted to fuck you. So happy anniversary darling" said Jan. Loving Wife? Julie's heart beat faster as the time drew near. She hadn't looked forward to sex like this since their wedding night. That had been a crushing disappointment, but this would be different. She had finally found his secret, and that piece of the puzzle would make her life perfect. "I have to go to my sisters." Her husband called from downstairs. "I'll be back in about two hours." "Take your time, dear." She called back. How perfect, his sisters. Beth lived a little over an hour away and sometimes the traffic could stretch the trip to three hours up and back. It was a perfect ploy. If their kinky little game went over the predicted hour, say to two or three hours, he could say that traffic had delayed him and the fantasy would be in tact. How could she ever repay Beth for saving her marriage? Her body still tingled from the first time, and here it was, only a week later, and he was going to do it again. They had gotten down to sex once every four of five months before she had confided in Beth, and now she was going to have another wonderful night after only a week. She hugged herself as she pulled open the chest full of bondage gear. She had been apprehensive the first time, but now she caressed each piece of leather, every buckle, and every chain. Everything was tangled, but she pulled them apart with loving care. Could it possibly be as good as the first time? "It's a bondage thing." Beth had told her. "You know how strait laced David is. Well, he's got this secret need that he can't admit, even to himself. It's like one of those movies where two different people are living in the same body. If you do exactly what I say, he'll never go to one of those places again, and you'll have the most wonderful sex of your life." Julie had followed her instructions, feeling stupid and wondering if it was all a nasty trick. She hadn't been warm to her new sister when they first met. She was such an awkward woman. She was just as tall as Dave, and in a woman, that was too tall. She was also shy. She'd seldom look Julie in the eye, and would drop her eyes whenever Julie turned to her. That had been five years ago, and Beth had done so many nice things over the years that Julie had grown found of her. When Julie had confessed her marital problems, and suspicions, Beth had seemed to come alive. "I can help you Julie." She had said, "But you have to put yourself in my hands." The first night had proved that Julie had made the right decision. She had tied herself to the bed just like Beth had instructed. If the two of them hadn't practiced a hundred times beforehand, Julie never would have got it right. The hood was in place, cutting off all sight and sound, leaving only her mouth and nose exposed. Each ankle was chained to the bedposts, and one wrist was secured. Dave would snap the last link when he came in, and she would be helplessly spread-eagled and naked on the bed. She could smell his Old Spice aftershave when he came in. It was the Old Spice Beth had given him for Christmas and he'd been wearing it ever since. He snapped the last link and the most wonderful ravishment of her life began. He mauled her breasts, squeezing and pinching, never too hard, never too gently. His lips closed around them and she could feel the pull between her legs as he sucked. What a difference from his normal "paint by numbers" sex. Five tugs on her left nipple, five tugs on the right. A kiss on her navel followed by ten licks in her pussy. Warm-up over, hump-hump-hump, done. This was madness. She never knew where he'd be next. Her neck, her ribs. His hands were everywhere, his mouth insatiable. He was rubbing his face between her legs. He must have shaved before their tryst. The way he was rubbing, so hard, so wantonly, his normal stubble would have left her raw. His mouth finally found her pussy, and he lingered over it as if he'd found something new. His tongue slid into her, and she couldn't believe how long he could make it now that he was trying. He pulled it out and licked it from bottom to top, like a cat; hard. The leather straps creaked and the chains clanked as Julie pulled and twisted in the agonizing pleasure. If she weren't so helpless, she would have pushed him away so she could breath again. He settled on her clit and she thought she'd go mad. He was sucking, flicking with his tongue, nibbling ever so gently, and not stopping. He had brought her to orgasm that night, and when she had come, and it was getting sensitive, he had stopped and stuck his finger in her ass. His other fingers pressed into her pussy, first one, then several, then his whole hand. She couldn't believe his huge hand was inside her, but it was there and he was moving it. She felt herself getting excited again, and when his lips closed over her clit once more, she arched her back and thrashed in ecstasy until she couldn't move. He had undone her one wrist before leaving. She had to undo the rest and get everything packed before he came back. That was the deal. No hint of what they had done, never a word in their other life. Beth had been very clear on that point. If she ever confronted him on his secret self, their new life would go up in a puff of smoke. Beth had rescued her again on that first night. She was so drained that she lay there instead of getting free. Beth's call had wakened her, and by the time she called back, Julie was throwing the gear into the box. "You didn't doze off, did you?" Beth had asked. Beth sounded so concerned it was touching. They had had coffee the next day, and Julie had told her all the gory details. It was weird telling a woman about her brother's sex life, but Beth already knew about his strange desires, so it wasn't so bad. "There was one thing, though." Julie said. "He never screwed me." This seemed to bother her more than Julie had expected. "He was probably playing with himself while he was doing you." Beth said. "Oh yes, I could tell he was by the way his head was moving. He was doing it very hard, and for an amazingly long time. It felt like he came twice, can you imagine? But I never found any cum and he never stuck it in me. How strange?" "It was just the first time. He was probably nervous. He'll do it next time." Beth said. This was the next time, and she was so excited she was screwing everything up. The fact that she'd just thrown everything into the box the last time got her off to a slow start. Now she could hear the front door squeak and she didn't have the hood on. She almost whimpered when that creaky top step announced that he was about to enter. There was no time left. She just pushed the hood on without securing it and flipped the wrist chain near where it was supposed to be clipped. She was in position when the door opened, and prayed he wouldn't notice. He clipped her one wrist, but didn't check the other. He seemed very anxious to get started, and she could feel his erection brush her leg as he started kissing her breasts. The hood loosened when she moved her head and she could see a bit of light. She pressed her head against the bed, making it look tight again, but wondered how she'd keep still once he started making her go crazy. She wanted to tell him, make him fix what she'd left undone, but the rule of silence could not be broken. Beth touched the strap on dildo. It was still too hot. She'd have to let it cool before she stuck it in Julie. For five long years she'd longed for her brother beautiful wife, and now the sexless bastard had made it possible for her to have her every week. She tasted the sweet nectar between Julie's legs. She could go without food; living only on the sweet juices her love gave her when she did this. The ace bandage around her chest was uncomfortable, but she had to wear it. Julie might wonder why her husband had left his shirt on when he fucked her, but the jig would be up if Beth's large breasts squished against her own while they were fucking. She fingered Julie's ass and smelled it when she pulled it out. There was nothing about Julie that she didn't love. She'd suck the shit out of her ass and wash it down with her piss if it made her happy. But for now she concentrated on bringing her to the first orgasm. It was glorious the way she came. How could her brother neglect a passion like this? The woman was a boiling cauldron of raw sex, and Beth was going to drink every last drop. The first round was over, and Julie was breathing like a racehorse after a mile and a quarter. Beth wanted to taste her ass hole, and she lifted her up so she could get at it. The interlude would give her time to recoup while the more gentle pleasure would keep her excited. She was getting ready again, and Beth checked her dildo. It was perfect. A little warmer than her leg, but well within the temperature limits of a real cock. Beth used her fingers to bring Julie closer as she positioned herself. It was the smallest strap-on she could find, and she hoped it was close enough to Dave's penis that Julie wouldn't notice the difference. She knew David wasn't big, but she had no idea how big he got when he was hard. She guided the head, watching carefully that it went in right, and eased down on Julie. This was wonderful. She was taking the woman she loved in the way a man should. Beth looked down at Julie's soft lips and her heart ached. Everything was so perfect as she mimicked a man's fucking motion, but those tender lips were calling for her kiss. She couldn't do it, of course. A kiss would give her away as surely as telling her how much she loved her. It was agony to have those lips so close to her own. They were parted, expectant, begging to be kissed. Beth kept her groan silent and pushed the temptation away by twisting Julie's head to the side by the loop on the hood. The hood came off in her hand. "Beth!" Julie yelped. Beth looked in horror at the hood in her hand. "Oh God." Julie said, and stars exploded in Beth's eyes as Julie slapped her. "I'm sorry." Beth said weakly, holding her stinging cheek. "Get off me, God damn it." Julie said, and slapped her again. Beth scrambled clear as blow after blow rained on her face and neck. "I love you. I'm sorry." Beth was almost in tears, standing by the foot of the bed, the ridiculous dildo sticking out. "Get out." Julie screamed as she undid the last of her bonds. Beth was sobbing uncontrollably as she ran down the stairs. Her purse was by the door, but all her clothes were in Julie's room. She stood by the door, blubbering like it was the end of the world. "GET OUT!!" Julie screeched from upstairs. Beth grabbed one of Julie's coats and ran to her car. Beth didn't leave her house the next day. It took her that long to drink every drop of alcohol in the house. The next day she went out for a new supply, and there was a message on her machine. "Hi Elizabeth, this is Dave. Julie says you might be sick and that's why you haven't been to the office. If I don't hear from you by two, I'll come out and check on you. Let me know if there's anything you need." Beth stared at the phone and took a pull on the Old Crow bottle. "Hi Jen, it's Beth. Tell Dave I'm okay and I'll be in tomorrow." Beth hung up. She didn't make it in the next day, and the day after that she sent a note that she was going on an extended vacation. Dave was understanding, but puzzled. Beth had always been a workaholic; this wasn't like her. "You'll have to sign some papers before you go." Dave said over the phone. "Would you like me to stop by after work?" "I'll meet you someplace." Beth said, looking at the shambles of her house. "You could stop by the house." Dave said. Beth could hear Julie's voice in the background. "Oh, Julie wants me to tell you she's visiting friends out of state. She'll be gone for two weeks." Beth could hear them saying goodbye. "Did she leave now?" Beth asked. "Yes." Dave said. "Sorry you didn't have a chance to say goodbye, it came up kind of sudden." "I'll be over." Beth said. For the first time since that horrible night, Beth thought about what she would do now. She couldn't stay here. The thought of seeing hatred in Julie's eyes was more than she could take. She'd have to move away, far away, where didn't matter. She kept control all the way to Dave's house and most of the way back home. The tears only started when she got close to her empty house, went thru her empty door, and sagged back into her empty life. She got her last bottle of Old Crow and climbed the stairs to her room. She opened the door slowly, puzzling over the light under the crack. The bottle thunked on the carpet as it slipped from her hand, and she blinked several times to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. Julie was on her bed; all tied up except for one wrist. Candles were lit on the end tables, and there were flowers everywhere. Beth's trickle of tears became a gusher as she rushed to the bed. Her mouth closed over Julie's and she kept saying "I love you" over and over as she kissed every part of her face and neck. "Shhh." Julie said, and rattled the one loose chain. Loving Wife "What's for dinner? Lamb chops, I hope. You do those so well." "Of course, if that's what you want, Ely. If that's what you want, than that's what we'll have." He's got no taste buds left, I think. What does he care if it's lamb, pork, or shit? Note to self—while I try to keep my voice from having the sarcastic edge Ely had complained about of late. Of course we don't have any lamb chops in the house. I'll have to go to the market. "And grapefruit for breakfast, I hope." "Yes, we have that." "Pink grapefruit. You know I like that so much better." "Sure, of course." Trying to stay pleasant here. Now I'll have to go to the market for sure. The grapefruit we have isn't fuckin' pink. OK, control yourself, Kyle. You can make it out of the bedroom with this smile on your face. And don't even look in Wolfgang's direction. I know the prick has a self-satisfied sneer on his face. Flung to the back of the panty. Pushed down on my knees. Tell me you don't want it, he says. Just say you don't. Fumbling with the zipper of his fly. Can't get to it fast enough. Licking down the side of it and then, with a sigh, opening my mouth over the bulb. Desperately wanting it to be hard, wanting him to fuck me. Now! For better or for worse the minister had said in the ceremony. And I hadn't a single qualm about saying yes. I'd wanted Ely so desperately. I loved him desperately. I also wanted him inside me—constantly. I still love him desperately. I don't want him to go. This is the absolute worst. And I . . . just . . . don't know if I can hang on. I had no idea how this would affect my needs. I don't know how I can hide my bitterness and my fear—and, worse, my physical wants—from him. There's nothing he can do about them anymore. He's thirty years older than you are, everyone said. Don't get involved. You're barely twenty. You're just a student he's pulled out of his class. You know nothing about life yet. You haven't lived. He'll be sixty-five when you're thirty-five, and we all know how much—how often—you've got to have it. And whatever you do, don't marry the guy. He's vigorous now, yes. But at sixty-five? Ely was good to me—very good. He could take care of me as often as I needed it. He kept in good shape and was active. I had no doubt that even at sixty-five he could give it to me. And sex wasn't everything. We had good times together. A hard cock was most things to me, of course, I won't deny that. But I loved—no, I love—Ely for so much else. Sex isn't it all. I keep telling myself that. And I do so want to believe it. It's Ely I wanted—who I want even now. But who would have known that the question of sixty-five would be irrelevant? He wasn't going to make fifty-five even. Pancreatic cancer doesn't give you many options—or much time. And there's nothing pleasant about the time it does give you. It hadn't been too bad for six months. I didn't have to work. We had plenty of money, and I could take care of him as long as he was still mobile. I'd had no idea I'd turn out to be a housewife taking care of an invalid—one old enough to be my parent. But it wasn't too bad for the first several months. We even still could fuck. He could maintain an erection and we both could get satisfaction with me riding the cock. He was still just about as big and as long-lasting as I could take. But cancer takes its toll. And Ely wasn't going to be going into that good night easily. He railed at his sickness. He was demanding and bitter, especially at first. It taxed our relationship, of course. Just leave him, my young friends would say. He can't expect you to stay and take care of him after he no longer can take care of your needs. It's not like you are a married couple. Oh, but we are a married couple. We did the ceremony and everything. I know that's not supposed to mean as much between those of the same sex as between a man and a woman—especially ones with children—but it had meant even more to Ely and me. We were declaring a love and a commitment that would close doors to us and make people turn away. That ceremony had required so much of us. And I still love him. I can forgive his moods and his demands. I know I would be so much worse if it was me dying from cancer like that—and painfully. I just get so jittery and on edge myself. I have needs. I always did. I wouldn't have let him invite me to his home for special tutoring in the first place if I didn't know that he wanted to fuck me—that I wanted him to fuck me. I'd heard what he had and what he could do with it—and how much stamina he had. I needed that. I wanted that. I fell in love with him, Professor Ely Silver, later. But I never fell out of love with his cocking. I sure could use that now. But it was something he no longer could give. He was bitter enough about that for both of us. I needed to just grit my teeth and tough it out. I was caught between a rock and a hard place when Wolfgang came to us. Ely had gotten to be too much for me to handle. He couldn't walk on his own—couldn't hardly move on his own. He was heavier than I was. I couldn't get him to the tub or even to the toilet and everything was getting out of hand. He had to have a nurse. And he had to have one who could handle him. Wolfgang was a big chunk of a man. Not fat; all muscle. Germanic. Organized, very capable . . . and demanding and knowing what the situation was—Ely and me living as a married couple—and how much he was needed to help with Ely. And, physically, Wolfgang could handle me as easily as he could handle Ely. Oh, god. He's just upstairs. We can't let him hear us. Don't tease me. All of it. Deep. Hard. Oh shit. I want it so bad. My back chaffing against the brick fireplace wall at the back of the pantry as he pushes me up and down the bricks by the force of his cock, My knees clinging to his waist above his hip joints. Locking my ankles across the top of his bulbous buttocks. Gyrating my pelvis; fucking myself on his thick cock in frantic counterthrusts. Gotta have it. Gotta have it. Give it to me. GETITGETITGETIT! Wolfgang laughing deep in his throat. Thrusting harder, deeper. I didn't look at Wolfgang as I backed out of the sick room. Just the one time. But I was walking on eggs. Ely couldn't know. The final thrust of the knife. I couldn't let Ely know how bad it was for me. It wasn't his fault. He felt bad enough that he couldn't give it to me. That he was leaving me so soon. It wasn't anything like we had planned. We had foreseen and planned for the thirty years of marriage thing, knowing that he probably would go first. We'd been so rational, so civilized, so reasonable about all that. We'd agreed that the sex drive would decrease for both of us over time—we'd mellow out together. Other couples with an age difference like this had told us it would be fine. Well, his was gone. Mine was aching. I couldn't let him know how much it mattered. The shattering of that dream. It was bad enough for him for what he faced. He couldn't know what it was doing to me. Just months. Weeks even. Why couldn't I just hold on? But I didn't want to think about that. I didn't want him to go at all. I think he was accepting this better than I was now. Why couldn't I fuckin' just not want it so bad? And why was it putting me on such an edge? So close to lashing out whenever Ely makes a request I haven't anticipated. And Wolfgang there now, in the room, ready to move between us. I couldn't let that happen. Not again. I couldn't let anyone come between me and my husband—certainly not in Wolfgang's way. Trembling after we'd both come. You want it again, don't you? he asks, with a sneer in his voice. A randy little Kyle, ain't you? Tell me you don't want it again. How long since he's given it to you? Tell me this was a mistake, that you don't want it again, or we go again. I'm hard for you again. Whimpering, I don't answer. My instinct is to cut and stumble out of the pantry. To call the agency and have Wolfgang replaced immediately. Tonight. Instead I climb down off his hips and turn in his arms, facing the bricks of the fireplace wall. He laughs as I push my buttocks into his groin and reach back for his cock. You're such a slut, he mutters, as he slams back into me and I stuff a fist in my mouth so that my cries can't be heard upstairs. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, I'm screaming in my mind. And he's doing just that—again." I know he thought he was settled in to getting paid several ways, but it's been a week and I've avoided being alone with Wolfgang and haven't even given him more of a glance than I have too—even though his muscled body and that cock that I know so well now have me trembling knowing his eyes are following me around the room. Knowing. Waiting. It was a relief, actually, to need lamb chops and pink grapefruit. I had to get out of the house. A trip to the market was what I needed to cut the tension—the tension of having to be cheery with Ely no matter what he was whining for and the tension of having Wolfgang follow me around the room with his eyes, rubbing his basket with a meaty fist where Ely couldn't see him from the bed. I had a package of fresh lamb chops and a few other items in my basket and was standing in front of the grapefruit bin, trying to remember how you could tell which were the best ones—and laughing bitterly internally that I was being such a housewife about it. Ely couldn't taste much of anything anymore. If the grapefruit was just pink inside when I cut it, that would satisfy his want. If only all of his wants were that easy to satisfy. If only my own wants didn't need to be satisfied so badly. I was squeezing the fruit too hard. This one was bruised. In my youth, I would have just tossed it back in the bin and picked out another. But Ely had told me to take responsibility for my actions—that even when there was no good solution, I should take responsibility for making one that did the least harm to others. A bruised grapefruit wouldn't do either a buyer or the store any good. I'd bruised it. I put the fruit in my basket and was picking out another one that I could serve Ely, when I looked up and caught him looking at me. I was shocked. I hadn't seen Lloyd in years. Not since before I'd married Ely. He was from another world altogether. I shuddered at the thought of how easy it would have been for me to drift into that world. The leather world. Lloyd was big and brawny, bold and brash and bald headed, but hairy everywhere else to make up for that. Covered in tattoos and body piercings. Older than I was, but not as much older as Ely was. I'd always gone for older men. He'd come "that" close to having me once, and I'd come almost "that" close to letting him have me. But there was Ely, a sharp contrast to Lloyd. Offering so much more—including love and commitment. Holding a second pink grapefruit in my hand, I watched him move toward me. It stopped on the other side of the bin. I nonsensically held the grapefruit up over the bin, between us. Keeping Ely between us. "I've heard you're having a rough time. You and Ely." "Times have been better than now, yes," I answered. "It's good to see you Kyle. I think of you often." I didn't say anything. I didn't want to say that I thought of him often too. I hadn't—for years. But since Ely went into the bed for the last time, I'll have to admit that I'd thought about Lloyd too. "Really tough about Ely. It's been a slow going, I guess." "Yes," I said. But I said it with a little bit of resentment. It wasn't too slow for me. Other than all that went with dying from pancreatic cancer, I hadn't wanted my time with Ely to be a second shorter than it had been. "Can't fuck with that sort of thing, is what I've heard." I didn't respond. After looking around to see if there were any other store patrons within earshot, which, thankfully, there weren't, I picked up another grapefruit and held it with the other one in front of me, between me and Lloyd. As a reminder of who was there even though he wasn't there. "I could help with that," Lloyd continued. "Ely need never know, if that's what you want. I didn't think you'd last with him a week. But you've done good. And I bet you've done good by him. All that time I was tryin' to get you, though, I could see that you couldn't go long without it." "I . . . I need to get back to the house," I muttered. "Good seeing you, though, Lloyd. And thanks, but . . . well, I think I need to go back. I can't be away too long." "I'll be outside—in my truck—if you . . . you know." And then he was gone. If I'd expected him to be pushy, it was my surprise. I found I was trembling. Had I wanted him to be pushy? "Excuse me? Are you about done squizzin' them grapefruit?" I snapped out of my trance. An elderly lady was trying to get to the grapefruit bin. "Oh, sorry," I said. "Yes, I'm done. Yes, indeed, I'm done." I was so tired. I was past done. I put the two good grapefruit back into the bin. Then I walked around the grocery store—in a trance—putting items from my basket back where I'd gotten them. All but the bruised grapefruit. Responsibility. Ely had taught me to take responsibility. He'd also taught me to problem solve. He'd been the best damn math professor in the university. Everyone wanted to take his courses. And he probably had been the best cocksman in the university too. All of the young men who went for that sort of thing wanted to be bedded by him. But he had picked me. Ten minutes after I'd entered his house for the special tutoring I hadn't really needed, he was doggie fucking me on the carpet in his living room. And I couldn't get enough of his cock. Or of him. I was in seventh heaven when he wanted me to move in with him—and had risen to ninth heaven when he said he wanted me to marry him—to forever and ever with him. But he'd also taught me to problem solve. To make whatever compromises had to be made to get to a "best-case" goal. To take responsibility for paying for fruit I'd bruised. "You sure you want this, sir?" the checkout clerk enquired in a polite voice. "The fruit looks like it's been bruised." "Yes, I like it that way, thanks. Just ring it up, please. I'm in a bit of a hurry." Lloyd had waited. He was leaning up against the fender of his double-cab metallic black-painted truck and looking confident and a bit amused as I exited the grocery store with the one grapefruit in a plastic bag. He drove me to his farm a couple of miles out of town and parked behind his barn. We fucked first in the backseat of the cab. After I'd sucked him big to the sound and feel of his thick cock ring clicking against my teeth, he pulled me up and screwed my channel down on his cock, with me facing him, and the soles of my feet leveraging off the back window of the cabin on either side of his head. Just watching the tattooing on his chest, arms, and torso undulating and feeling his nipple rings cold on my tongue made me come quickly inside his pumping fist. He laughed and kept on with his own rhythm of the fuck to a long, hard, glorious ending. I couldn't stop moaning and "oh shit yessing" when he'd gone quiet. "Been a while since you had it good, hasn't it?" I said nothing, because I couldn't lie. Wolfgang had been good too. But it had been a week. Wolfgang was so right. I was a slut. It was a problem. But it was one to be compromised. I knew that now. I knew what Ely would want me to do. He wouldn't want to know, of course. But I knew it was what he would want. It would make me a hell of a lot easier to live—and to approach dying—with. Lloyd said he wanted to fuck me properly, in the house, in his bed. But we only made it just outside the truck door. He looked at me, standing there, nude, hard, trembling, wanting him again. Now. And he pushed me down on the small of my back on the passenger seat. I raised one foot to the corner of the windshield inside and the other to the door frame on the other side of the passenger door, and he stood on the running board, crouched over me and worried my nipples with his teeth as his piercings jangled and his tattoos moved in waves and his cock thrust and thrust and thrust, punishing my prostate ecstatically with that thick cock ring. "The house," he murmured when we'd both come. "I can't. I do have to get back. And I've got to go back to the grocery store." "How often do you go to the grocery store?" "Usually every Thursday." "Do you think you can make it on Tuesdays too?" "Uh, I don't know." "Don't go shittin' me now. I think I know you pretty good. You need it more than once a week. Might as well be in for a penny as well as a pound. Like I said. Nobody needs to know. Not Ely or anyone else. I've wanted you ever since I didn't get you." A penny and a pound. I laughed. This is one reason I liked older men. They used such strange expressions. Such apt ones too, though. This one gave me comfort. Deciding to do it was one thing. Feeling brave enough to do it as much as I needed it was another thing. For some strange reason my thoughts went to Wolfgang. God, he'd had a powerful thrust with that thick cock. I picked a different checkout clerk when I went back to the grocery store for lamb chops and another pink grapefruit—I'd left the bruised one in Lloyd's truck, along with those intentions I couldn't live up to as well as all of the inhibitions I'd left home with. Outside of the grocery store I made a cell phone call from the car. "Ms. Taylor? This is Kyle Silver. You may remember, we talked about that double room at the nursing home, where my husband, Ely, could have a full-care room for the remainder of his needs and I could have the room next to him so I could be there full time too. If it's still available, could we occupy as soon as possible? It's vacant now, still? Can we arrange transportation tomorrow?" When I entered the house, I put everything away in the kitchen except the grapefruit. I dug out the recipe for lamb chops that Ely liked the best. Then, taking the grapefruit, I climbed the stairs to Ely's bedroom. I stood at the door for a few moments, composing myself, and calling up my cheeriest smile. I entered the room. Ely was awake, grimacing in pain, but he put on a brave smile when he saw me. Wolfgang was dozing in the corner, but he snapped awaked when I entered as well. "I got the grapefruit," I said. "A nice elderly lady helped me pick out the best one. You can have that and anything else you want for breakfast. And I think I'll bring a tray up and eat with you in the morning." I kept my voice upbeat, my smile my best. "You're so good to me," Ely said. "You are all the world to me, Ely," I answered. "We're going to make every minute count." I looked over straight into Wolfgang's eyes. He was giving me a sneery, possessive smile of his own. I smiled back. I'd give Wolfgang's thick cock the best ride of his life tonight. He'd get a good-bye bonus he'd never forget. And I wouldn't care if I did need the cock more than he needed my ass. I'd come to terms with that. I'd make Ely's last days the best that they could be. Every minute would be a testament of my love for him and how he could most comfortably conclude his days. And I'd do it without tensions and bitternesses of my own. I'd found a way to take care of that.