84 comments/ 145414 views/ 19 favorites Shock Treatment By: ohio It was a Friday night, and she was sitting at the kitchen table when he came in. All the evidence of his guilt was laid out in front of her. The empty condom wrapper she'd found in his pants pocket; the matches from the Harbor View Motel, where they'd never stayed; his sport coat, smelling of a perfume she never used; and the pair of his boxers with lipstick on the fly. Friday was her day off; she'd found the boxers that morning when she started to do the laundry. A quick search of her husband's things had turned up the rest. She had cried, screamed in the empty house, wandered aimlessly from room to room, thinking about nothing. Wondering about leaving him. Wondering about killing him. Now she'd been waiting for an hour, planning just how she would confront him. She would be cold—icy but calm. She would be sarcastic but controlled. He'd be amazed by her rage and her composure. Except that it all went to hell as soon as she saw him, saw his face, saw him look at the things on the table and realize that she knew. She burst into tears, and within seconds was sobbing uncontrollably, her shoulders heaving. "You bastard!" she shouted at him, between sobs. "You cheating son of a bitch! How could you do this, after 19 years?" He took a seat across from her, looking grave but calm. He didn't turn pale, or cry, or avoid her eyes. Instead he looked at her sympathetically. "Julie, I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "Sorry for WHAT?" she cried. "That I found out about you and whatever bitch you've been screwing? That now your fun will have to stop? That I realize what a selfish, dishonest, whoremongering jerk you are?" He had to repress a smile at "whoremongering"—that was a good one! "No, I'm sorry that you're hurt," he said. "I never wanted to hurt you—I have never wanted to do anything to make you unhappy. I love you very much." Her face was streaked with tears. "You have a damned odd way of showing it! Weeks of 'bowling' on Thursday nights with Dan—only it seems you've been doing your 'bowling' in a motel room with some ... floozy! Did you think I wouldn't smell her perfume on you when you came home? You figured a condom wrapper wouldn't raise my suspicions, given that I've been on the pill for years? Or did you just not give a damn?" "No, that's not true," he said, shaking his head. "I did give a damn, and I tried to make sure you wouldn't find out. I guess I didn't do a very good job of it." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and reached out to hand it to her. Julie glared at him furiously, but took the handkerchief and wiped her face. There was a silence. Then he said, "it looks like you've had some time to think about this, Julie. Are you going to throw me out?" She stared at him, surprised. He was so calm about this, as though he'd suspected he'd be found out. "Do you love her?" "No, Julie, it's nothing like that. It was sex, pure and simple. I love you, and I want to stay married to you." "Then WHY, Scott?" she asked, her anger rising again. "You say you love me—but you cheated on me, betrayed me—you humiliated me! How could you ...." Her sentence remained unfinished, as she was crying again. He rose and went around the table, putting a comforting arm around her, but she angrily shoved him away. "Keep your goddam hands to yourself! You've lost the right to touch me!" He went back to his seat and waited for her crying to subside. Then he began to speak, quietly but firmly, as though he had rehearsed what he had to say. "You asked me why, Julie, and I want to tell you. I want you to understand why. "For 19 years I've been your husband, and for 18 we've been the parents of Jake, and I have loved that. You are a wonderful wife and mother, and our life has given me so much happiness. I don't want that to end. "But you also know that our sex life is not at all what I want it to be, and that I've tried over and over to get you to be a little more flexible and willing to compromise on that with me. "I would like us to make love 3-4 times a week. For you, twice a month has always been enough, and you've fought me when I ask for more. You've always had a 'good reason'. Within six months of our wedding you were pregnant with Jake, and you felt lousy. Then you were a nursing mother, and you were sleep-deprived all the time. When he started kindergarten you went back to your school-teaching job, and you were busy with lesson plans and grading papers. "When Jake was older, you said you were tired from driving him to soccer practice and clarinet lessons. Then there was the year you were visiting your grandfather in the nursing home. There's always been something, Julie. It's not that these things weren't real, but you've always had one excuse or another for not being more of a sexual partner for me. "And now Jake has been at college for nearly a year and a half—we've got the house to ourselves—and nothing has changed. We still make love about twice a month, and only when I really insist. Only when I say, 'Julie, listen, it's been 11 days, won't you please?' "And you know it's not just the frequency, either. We've talked about these things over and over. I want oral sex occasionally, and you almost never give it to me. Three times in 20 years, Julie! Three times your mouth has touched my penis, and you've never let me come that way. "I want to go down on you too, and you hardly ever allow that. I want to make love in other positions, in other rooms, and you say no. I want to spend more time in love-making, have a lot of foreplay, touch and caress each other; and you say 'c'mon Scott, let's get on with it'. "I finally realized that sex, to you, is simply making your body available to me. Sometimes you let me touch and please you; but you virtually NEVER do anything like that to me. It's not just the oral sex—you don't rub my back, or stroke or caress me, or any of the things lovers do to excite each other. "And you can't say I haven't tried to work these things out with you. We've talked about sex over and over. I begged you to come to marriage counseling with me, and you flatly refused. Three years ago I even brought up the possibility of divorce, remember? I said I didn't know if I could live the rest of my life in a marriage where I felt so frustrated, where my love and desire for my wife was bottled up inside me. "And you cried, and clung to me, and said you didn't want a divorce. You said you'd change, you could do better. And for about a month we made love more often, and you gave me oral sex once. And we spent a night in a hotel in the city, and made love that night and the next morning. I really thought I had gotten through to you. "But after a few weeks we were right back where we had been before. I guess you thought the scare was over, I don't know. But we were back to twice a month, and you being tired, or having your period, or having lots of work to do, or needing to clean the house, or whatever excuse you could come up with." Scott stopped. He was suddenly tired of talking. None of this was new to either of them. Julie looked unhappy, her anger gone for the moment. Scott was right—their sex life was much as he described it, and even his threat of a divorce had only produced a temporary change. "Scott," she said quietly. "Marriage is a compromise. We both know that. Neither of us is a perfect spouse for the other. Each of us sacrifices some of what we want. How is this any different?" He looked pained, but nodded. "Yes, Julie, you're right. I've asked myself that question over and over. How can I justify making a selfish choice at the expense of our marriage vows? Do I have the right to greater personal satisfaction, if means sneaking around behind your back, or hurting you? "And maybe what I've done is wrong. I know that it has hurt you, and I'm sorry. But the problems in our sex life haven't been a small compromise. It's not as though I like lamb chops and you don't, so we never have lamb chops. "My sexual happiness is more important to me than that; and I guess I just reached the breaking point." There was another silence, full of thinking on both sides of the table. Julie looked at Scott; he seemed to be waiting for her. The more he waited, the angrier she became. Since when did his 'sexual happiness' come at the expense of destroying her happy marriage, the trust she had in him! "Okay, Mr. 'Sexual Happiness' ", she said with a sneer. "You've been getting your jollies lately, but don't think you won't be paying for them! "I don't know what I'm going to do about this—that's something I'll have to figure out over the next few days. But you can bet I'm not going to lie down and let you walk all over me like this. For starters, you can find somewhere else besides our bedroom to sleep tonight! And as of tomorrow, I want you the hell out of this house!" She managed to hold back her tears during that outburst. She quickly rose to her feet and retreated to their bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind her. *** *** *** Julie was too exhausted to cry any more, but she had a night of uneasy, unhappy sleep. When she finally got out of bed it was nearly 10 am. The guest bed had been slept in, but Scott was nowhere to be found, and his car was not out in front. Wandering into the kitchen, Julie found a freshly-made pot of coffee. She saw an envelope on the table addressed to "Dearest Julie" in his familiar spiky handwriting. She started to cry again. Furiously, she crumpled the envelope and hurled it across the room. After two cups of coffee, and some eggs and toast that she didn't even taste, Julie called her sister. Almost as soon as Susan picked up, she found herself crying. "Susan, Scott is having an affair!" she blurted out. Julie heard her sister's shock on the other end of the line. "I'll be there in twenty minutes," Susan said. By the time Susan arrived, Julie had gotten dressed, cleaned up the kitchen and washed her face, but she burst into tears again when her sister hugged her and said, "oh, Julie, I'm so sorry!" The two sisters sat on the couch in the living room, Susan listening attentively while Julie recounted the previous night's confrontation with Scott. Despite how close they were, Julie had never before spoken about her sex life to her older sister. But now, devastated and hurt, she revealed everything that Scott had said to her. As Julie spoke, Susan's face took on a more and more quizzical look. When Julie had finished Susan began talking at once. "Is all that true, Julie? Sex once every two weeks? And you guys don't have oral sex?" She appeared stunned. "Of course it's true," Julie replied testily. "You're not telling me that it's any different for you and Brian, are you? You've been married even longer than we have!" Susan only laughed. "Honey, we have some talking to do. I had no IDEA of how things were between you two. I hate to say it, but ... no, scratch that thought." Susan told her astonished sister about her own sex life with her husband, Brian. They made love at least twice a week, and frequently more often since their own two children had moved out of the house. Once in a while they would take a Saturday or Sunday and spend the entire day in bed, leaving only to bring some snacks up from the kitchen. Oral sex was a regular part of their repertoire. Susan enjoyed giving Brian head; and although she didn't like to swallow, she was happy to let him come in her mouth. He, in turn, took great pride in being able to lick and suck her to two or three orgasms in a session. They occasionally played games, too. They'd experimented a little with bondage and with toys; and every once in a while one or the other would suggest a new position or location to make love. The month before, Susan said with a laugh, she'd stood naked on the dining room table, her legs spread wide, while Brian had avidly fingered her pussy and sucked her clit, which were right at head height. They'd done that until she couldn't stand up any more, and then he'd carried her into the living room and fucked the hell out of her on the carpet! "We share our fantasies sometimes, too," Susan concluded. "Like pretending that we're strangers who picked each other up in a bar, and we're cheating on our spouses. I'd never dream of actually doing anything like that, but the pretending can be a real turn-on." There was a silence. Susan could see that Julie was not only stunned, but more unhappy than ever. She slid over and took her little sister in her arms, as she had done so often when they were children. "I ... I don't know what to think," said Julie in a tremulous voice. "Have I driven Scott away? Do you think he's right, that I'm just a cold fish who's been depriving him all these years?" Susan spoke with care. "Nothing can justify cheating on you, Jules. You know I like Scott, and I'm pretty surprised and disappointed in him. No, I'm furious at him! But ... I will say that I can understand the frustration he must have been feeling. I just wish he had talked to you about it and tried to work it out with you, instead of ... doing what he did." Julie burst into tears again. "But he did try! He did talk to me about it, over and over ..." She told Susan about their previous conversations, about his request that they try marriage counseling, even about his bringing up a possible divorce. "Now I'm afraid it's too late, Susan. Now that he's been ... sleeping with somebody else. He's probably been getting everything he missed with me! And how could I even think of letting him touch me, after what he did? I feel so humiliated!" The two sisters spoke for another hour, without resolving anything. Susan was loving and sympathetic—but it was clear to Julie that her older sister also felt sympathy for the situation Scott had been in. "Jules, you need to decide what you want now. Whether you still want to be married to Scott, and if so whether there are changes you're willing to make. He's done something awful—horrible! But he must still love you, or he would have simply moved out long before now." When Susan had gone Julie made a sandwich and forced herself to eat. Then she idly wandered around, straightening up, unable to focus on much of anything. She found the crumpled envelope from Scott and picked it up. Opening it, she began to read the letter he had left her. After a moment she gasped, and dropped the letter on the floor with a cry. She felt faint, and quickly sat down in a chair, trembling. It was several minutes before her shivering eased, and she was able to retrieve the letter, smooth it out on the table, and read it carefully. *** *** *** Dear Julie: I am so very sorry for the pain I have caused you. You need to know, right away, that I am NOT having an affair. I have never even kissed another woman in a romantic way since we started dating nearly 20 years ago. The evidence of my 'affair' that you found was a set-up by me: I've been waiting a couple of weeks for you to confront me about it. What I've been doing on Thursday nights is just what I told you—bowling with David, at the Lincoln Lanes. Sometimes his wife Anne joins us, and can confirm to you that I've been there. They don't know anything about my deception. I told them that I was free on Thursday nights because you had a weekly teachers' meeting. The credit card receipts for the bowling and for my shoe rentals are in the envelope with this letter. The Monday nights I told you I'd been working late, I was actually at the office, working. I know you called there several times. I purposely didn't answer the phone, and didn't return your calls for a couple of hours, so that you'd suspect I wasn't at the office. The matches from the motel I just picked up in their lobby—I've never stayed there. The perfume is "Obsession". I bought it at a drugstore and keep it in my desk at work; I've been putting some of it on my clothes before I come home on Mondays and Thursdays. I also bought a condom and left the empty wrapper in my pants. When you hadn't mentioned any of these things to me, I thought I should make it more obvious. So I put the lipstick on my boxer shorts myself Thursday morning while you were showering, using one of your lipsticks. I swear to you on my mother's grave that this is all true. I have not cheated on you, and I never would. So why did I lie to you this way? What did I hope to gain by hurting you so badly, and making you so angry at me? Sweetheart, I have been at my wits' end. I have tried so many ways to reach you, to let you know that, as much as I love you, my frustration with our sex life together has been making me miserable. If we are fortunate enough to have 30 more years of life, I don't want to spend it feeling angry and hurt about our lack of sexual intimacy. The only other step that I can imagine is to end our marriage. As I said, I have never cheated on you, and I won't be unfaithful to you while we are married. But I don't think I can spend the next three decades feeling like a normal man locked up in a monastery. Julie, I love you. Please think about what I have written. Much love, Scott *** *** *** Julie sat holding her head in her hands. She'd read the letter twice, unsure whether to feel better or worse. He hadn't cheated on her! However, he'd deceived her, cruelly, and left her feeling hurt and betrayed. Was that any better? She checked the envelope, and there were the bowling receipts he'd mentioned. She knew that they didn't prove his innocence; but she believed him. She had known Scott for a long time, and he didn't take lightly an oath on his mother's grave. As painful as his trick was, it seemed more in character for him than to have begun an affair with another woman. She found herself shivering. Getting up from the table, she climbed the stairs to the bedroom, took off her shoes, and huddled under the blankets fully clothed. Within minutes she was asleep. Hours later when Julie awoke, it was dark outside. Feeling clearer in her mind, she picked up the phone and called Scott's cell. His voice-mail picked up, and she waited for the tone. In a serious voice she said, "Hello Scott, it's me. I read your letter earlier today. "I'd like a couple of days without seeing you, if that's all right. I'll be out tomorrow morning, if you want to come and get some clean clothes. Then if you're willing, I'd like you to come home on Monday night and have dinner with me. Just give me a call to let me know if that's OK with you. Bye, honey." The next morning, which was Sunday, Julie left the house by 10 am to do some shopping. When she returned in the early afternoon there was a brief note on the kitchen table. "I'll be here tomorrow night for dinner at 6:30. I love you. Scott" *** *** *** When he entered his house on Monday night Scott didn't know what to expect. Julie's phone message had been calm—not hostile, but not loving either. He could understand why she'd need some time to adjust to the pair of shocks he had administered. But he didn't know if he was in for a happy reunion, a serious talk, or a tongue-lashing. "Hello, honey," he said hesitantly, entering the kitchen. Julie turned and came to him, giving him a hug and a kiss. "Hi, sweetheart," she said with a smile. This seemed like a good start! They had roast beef and potatoes, a salad, and some ice cream. A nice dinner, though nothing fancy or out of the ordinary. By unspoken agreement they avoided any reference to the emotional events of the past few days. They talked about work, about Jake at college, about upcoming holiday plans. Scott was relieved that Julie spoke matter-of-factly about visiting his relatives and hers over the Christmas break—there was no sign from her of an imminent break-up. And he was surprised that they finished an entire bottle of wine; usually Julie drank no more than a glass, but tonight they each had two or three glasses. Shock Treatment Pt. 01 Authors note: ***READER ALERT*** THIS IS A STORY IN INSTALMENTS ABOUT INCEST BETWEEN CONSENTING ADULTS. IN PARTICULAR A GRANDMOTHER AND HER 18 YEAR OLD GRANDSON. IF YOU ARE LIKELY TO BE OFFENDED PLEASE STOP READING HERE. PLEASE LEAVE A RATING TO ENCOURAGE ME TO COMPLETE THE TALE. ***** Chapter 1 It was a warm evening in early July and I had just landed at Exeter airport in the west of England. I held on tight as my grandmother screeched the tyres on the exit ramp, accelerating through the gears onto the highway. With the roof down it was difficult to hear what she said over the noise of the slipstream. "Of course we spoke at length about it but in the end she agreed to leave all the arrangements to me. After all these years you know me well enough not to faff about!" she shouted. "Shouldn't you slow down Nan?" I shouted back. Her face broke into a broad smile, "Not frightened are you?" I grinned back, shaking my head. I was with my mother's mother, 'Nan Jennifer' as I had always known her. The open red sports car was typical of her flamboyance. And I loved her for it. "I think we need to set a few ground rules Peter, before the holiday begins," she shouted. "OK Nan!" I yelled back. "First of all, no more of this 'Nan' nonsense. You're 18 years old and a man, so you call me 'Jen', 'Jenny' or 'Jinny', anything else and you pay a forfeit." She turned to look at my response but I couldn't make out her eyes through her stylish shades. "Jenny it is then," I said, beaming a smile back at her. She nodded approval, returning her eyes to the road, her silk headscarf fluttering in the slipstream. "Secondly, you can go back home at any time you aren't enjoying yourself. Cliff Cottage isn't a prison camp!" Again I nodded my agreement. "And thirdly, well that's it really, there is no third rule." Again she beamed a smile. I then settled into the journey to her remote cliff top cottage on the craggy Cornish Coast. But we hadn't gone more than a couple of miles when she swung the car into a lay-by, pulled on the handbrake and took out the ignition keys. Nan looked every inch the former photographic model that she was. Taking off her sunglasses and headscarf she shook her long platinum-silver hair and flipped the keys over to me. "It's yours for the duration of the visit," she grinned, "think you can handle it?" I'd passed my driving test just after my 17th birthday and felt reasonably competent in the family cars, but this monster was new territory for me. "If a woman can drive it I guess I can Nan," I said. "We'll see?" she said knowingly, "there's no power steering and you have to drive it into corners rather than braking, otherwise she's still a bitch to handle, but an exciting bitch." She turn to me and with a mock scowl said, "That 'Nan' earned you your first forfeit Peter. Forfeits must be honoured the same night as the crime!" Before we set off again we raised the roof, checked my rucksack was secure on the rear rack and generally kicked the tyres. "You'll need to fill her up in another 50 miles or so, but don't worry I'll pay all the petrol costs for your visit" she reassured me. Nan settled herself in the passenger seat while I familiarised myself with the control layout before. we set off again into the rapidly setting sun. She was dressed in a tight fitting grey dress with a black belt. But in the tight space of the car her hem rode up her legs, revealing the pink tops of silk stockings and the slightest hint of a suspender belt. When I first spotted the straps of her suspender belt my prick stiffened and had to discretely adjust my trousers. From then I glanced down at her legs whenever the road allowed. Each time I thought about her stocking tops I felt a glow of sexual anticipation in my prick. I estimated she was then in her late 60s or early 70s, yet with her slender figure and faultless skin she looked fifty-something. I thought her beautiful, smart and very sexy. I doubt there was but one in every thousand women who had aged so well. We weren't a poor family by any stretch of the imagination. Both mum and Dad were successful professionals, dad a top lawyer, mum a doctor and consultant gynaecologist. We lived together very comfortably in a rambling Georgian house within easy commute distance of London. In turn I had my own generous allowance and a great future awaited me. My final school exams had gone well, earning me a place at a top University, but I still had a couple of months to while away before I started reading business law. Nevertheless I did have my share of personal problems to overcome before going to university, specifically chronic shyness and a terror of girls. Gynophobia I believe is the correct term. I suspect it was my mother's hope that after a couple of months exposed to her mother's steam roller personality, some of it would rub off on me. I also suspected my grandmother was in on their game - the sports car her opening move. The car was not such a bitch to handle as she had warned and the miles began to roll away with the setting sun. With the roof down the wind noise was much less and we were able to talk without shouting. "When are your mother and father flying out Peter?" My grandmother asked. "They flew to Italy this afternoon, at the moment they expect to be away at least a week" I said. "So no one at home even if you get pissed off with my company?" "Only the house sitter and she wouldn't welcome me disturbing her love nest with her boyfriend." Night had fallen as we skirted the Dartmoor National Park heading down the A38 towards Plymouth. From time to time I glanced across at my wonderful grandmother and thought myself so lucky to spend quality time sharing her world. Whenever I thought she wasn't looking a took another look at her glorious legs and silk stockings. I'd always loved being with her for as long as I could remember. We filled up the car with fuel in Ivybridge at a 24 hour supermarket filling station. Half an hour later we spotted a fish and chip shop and bought the last couple of fish and a pile of chips just before it closed for the night. We sat in the car sharing the fish supper and a bottle of diet coke. It was one of those magical warm evenings and the moment felt very special and intimate to me. Then my grandmother broke the spell. "I'd feel better laying all my cards on the table Peter. I'm not one for beating around the bush. My daughter did ask me to help you overcome some of your fears before starting out on your life path." She licked her fingers and turned to look me in the eye. "But you're a smart guy, so I guess you already figured that out?" I nodded, enjoyed the last couple of chips then screwed up the paper before winding down the window and tossing it into a waste bin. "It wasn't difficult, we haven't spent any meaningful length of time together since I was about 10 years old. Then all of a sudden here I am." "That was my fault, I was away so much on business - my time in the country never seemed to coincide with your term holidays." The air became a little chilled between us. "Look, if you're not okay with this just say so and we'll just treat this as a family holiday. My word on it," she added seriously. "And if I agree with the idea what then?" "Then you do everything I ask of you without question, if you do, I promise I'll do everything I can to make you feel more comfortable around women. But you must always be open and truthful with me. Who knows, you might even enjoy it!" I studied her face. I had always loved and trusted 'Nan' Jennifer. In many ways she was a hero to me. For a couple of years she had worked as a TV actor, appearing in episodes of 'Holby City', 'The Bill' and a handful of British prime time soaps. Cast always as an ageing beauty with a shady criminal background, her sexy appearances gave me a lot of street cred at school, raising my esteem among friends and teachers. I trusted her, and probably loved her more than my mother. "It's a deal Nan," I said before I could check my mouth, then offered my hand for her to shake. "That is if you promise to do the same. If I ask you something you must answer honestly and in full?" After thinking for a couple of seconds she put her hand on the dashboard she said in mock seriousness, "I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." Then in typical style she spat on her hand and proffered it to me, nodding for me to do the same. So we sealed the agreement in spit. But I was aware I now had two forfeits to repay before the end of the day. "The treatment starts here Peter. So tell me what you think of my stockings? I saw you ogling them, your tongue was almost touching the floor?" She beamed me a smile that touched my soul. "I think they look so sexy Jen, I've never seen them close up in real life before, mother always wears tights!" I blurted out. "Did you wear them for me?" I asked. "Not really Peter, I always wear stockings with suspenders but I have to confess I did hitch my skirt up so you could see them." "Why?" I asked in amazement. "To check you weren't queer - simple as that!" she said frankly. "And?" "Judging from your erection I'm pretty sure you're a full red-blooded straight!" I felt my face colour up and turned away to hide my embarrassment. "What if I had been queer?" "All bets would have been off, I'd have called your Mother and it would have probably stopped her worrying about you and girls." After a pause she asked, "Have you ever had sex with a woman Peter?" I shook my head and coloured up in even more embarrassment. Grandmother threw her head back in delight at her discovery and said,"That's easily fixed!" and with that ice breaker we set off on the last leg of the journey. Her throw away line, "That's easily fixed," kept playing like an endless loop in my mind as we drove silently through South Devon and into Cornwall. Chapter 2 It was a few minutes after 1am when we drove up the secluded track leading up to Cliff Cottage. The headlights raked left and right as we negotiated the winding track. Ahead the house loomed up before us. Long before we got close, all the security lights lit up, blinding me for a second or two. It had been a couple of years since I'd visited and the place had grown beyond imagination. The cute description of the place as a cottage was monumentally misleading. The house was a grand Georgian-style mansion set in its own estate. Various extensions had been added over the years but these had been well designed and constructed to retain the period feel. However I knew it was built in the late sixties by a now long forgotten rock singer and purchased by grandmother for a song when he had declared bankruptcy through drugs and profligacy. I stood for a few moments taking in the vista. The house had been purposely built precariously close to a spectacular stretch of rocky coastline. At the back of the house a glass bottomed viewing platform had been added so the courageous visitor could stand out beyond the cliff edge and look down on the crashing waves. Looking to the right I spotted a mast with a flashing red aircraft warning light and orange windsock which stood out strongly in the prevailing wind. Grandmother came up besides me and linked her arm through mine. I turned and smiled, "So that's the expensive new helipad Dad told me about?" She shrugged and said, "It's a sign of the times Peter, busy people seem to expect them these days, so I thought I better invest in one!" There wasn't much to unload other then my rucksack and we were soon inside the vast house turning on lights in several rooms. I dumped my stuff on my bed, took a quick shower, changed into a white sleeveless 'T ' shirt and cut off jeans before padding back barefoot to the lounge to find my hostess. I found her in the main lounge, the large French windows were open and the sound of crashing waves on the rocks below filled the room. She was standing at the drinks cabinet pouring two glasses of gin and topping them up with tonic water. In the time I had been away she had fixed her hair into a casual up-do and reapplied her makeup. She had removed her grey dress in exchange for a silk dressing gown tied at the waist. Gone too were her patent black stilettos. Instead she now wore pink bedroom slippers with a lower heel. The dressing gown hung open as if it was quite normal to show the world her long sexy legs. To my joy she still wore black stockings but these now had a sort of lace pattern woven into the sides. And holding them up a matching black suspender belt with several straps. She looked like a photo from a high quality lingerie catalogue and smelled of alluring perfume that negotiated my olfactory canal - somehow taking instant control of my prick. Then I realised her breasts were bare, but so firm they didn't need any support. Passing me one of the glasses and slipping her arm in mine, she steered us both to the sofa. We sat down together our shoulders touching and clinked glasses in a toast She made a show of crossing her legs and smoothing her stocking with a hand now complete with long pink nails. "To women," she said and emptied the glass in one swallow. I followed suit but didn't enjoy the taste at all. Taking the empty glass from me she placed them on a side table, then turned towards me. "There's a white envelope on the table, would you fetch it for me Peter?" I dutifully obeyed and trotted back with said envelope. "It's addressed to you, so you better open it and read what it says." she said, standing up and taking both our glasses to be refilled. Intrigued I slit open the envelope taking out a sheaf of papers while keeping an eye on her sexy ass as she padded away. The covering letter bore the letterhead of my father's office. "This is from my Dad's office," I said lamely glancing up to where she stood. But she seemed to be distracted, looking intently at her watch. I continued shuffling through the papers before realising what they contained. "But this is your will!" I said incredulously, "you're not ill are you?" She said nothing. Instead she went to the window facing the darkened driveway and peered out into the night sky as if expecting someone. Then at last I switched on my legal head and began perusing the detail. While I was absorbed in the legalese she returned to the sofa and again curled up beside me, her head resting on my shoulder, watching my face intently. Her dressing gown again lay open and I was inches away from her firm breasts and impossibly sexy stocking tops and suspenders. After finishing the last page I turned to her. "But you've left everything to me, this house, several businesses in the UK, Germany and around Europe and all your money, why?" She was quite serious now. "There's another envelope in there, take it out, read it and sign if you agree. Otherwise I change the will and you get nothing." As I read the final form in fine detail I heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter circling above the house, then saw the beam of a landing light piercing the ink black sky. "Have you read and understood what it means?" she asked holding a pen out for me to sign. "But this is a non-disclosure agreement - a gagging order?" The helicopter engine suddenly throttled back indicating it had touched down on the helipad. A minute later it's engine throttled up and it lifted off. As the sound of the helicopter died away I heard the unmistakeable click of a woman's high heels on the path leading to the front door. "Just sign it Peter, your Dad drafted everything out and it's all in order, binding and watertight. Sign it and a new life awaits you. Don't sign it, this becomes just a holiday and you loose everything!" The door bell rang. I looked at Nan and she nodded me encouragement. So I took the pen and signed. The bell rang again. This time Nan took the sheaf of papers from me, placed them on the table and headed off to open the door. My mind was spinning. How would my life change, what were the businesses I would inherit, and more urgently, who was visiting at 2am in the morning? The waves continued to crash against the cliffs in the intense dark of the night and I felt confused, light-headed and a little drunk. Then the door to the living room opened and Nan came in arm in arm with an amazing beauty wearing a knee length white raincoat with wrap over belt that concealed a magnificent physique. She had cascading curls of shiny black hair - reminding me of a comic book warrior queen. I guess she must have been a couple of inches taller than my 6 feet with an amazing attractive face and skin the olive of a Mediterranean sunset. She took my breath away an blew my mind in one smouldering look. I'd only ever seen such an incredible woman in the centrefold of my collection of glamour magazines. She was far sexier than anything my young imagination could conjure up. Nan said something to her in Italian and nodded at me to get up and introduce myself. I was glad I'd hadn't put on any shorts as standing was not easy because of the iron bar that was my engorged cock. I felt my face flush in a mixture of fear and embarrassment. The warrior princess held out a perfectly manicured hand, melting my heart with a million dollar smile that touched my soul. "Buon Giorno Signor Pietro," she said in a sultry voice, "Mi chiama e Claudia." I looked at Nan for help but she just smiled and said, "Peter, this is Claudia, she's flown in from my Milan bureau to induct you into the company." Speechless and unsure what I was supposed to say or do, I eventually stammered, "Hello Claudia, I'm very pleased to meet you." Sensing my surprise and discomfort Claudia stepped forward holding her face close for me to kiss, first one cheek, then the other. Close up her makeup was faultless and I swear I could see my face in her perfectly applied lipgloss. Her beautiful green eyes watched me as we kissed cheeks, her expensive perfume making my head float with desire as if I had been drugged. All I could think about was what she was wearing under that white raincoat and pictured myself kissing her, feeling her breasts then fucking her over and over. It was Nan who broke my dream. "Peter, Claudia will show you our range of goods and services. Pay attention and learn as much as you can from her!" Then she winked at me. I turned to Nan, lifting my shoulders in helplessness, mouthing "What do I do?" "Use the guest bedroom next to mine and remember that you are driving her back to the airport at 7-o-clock in the morning. Now off you go, I'll watch a bit of TV until you've finished. I'll wake you should you lose track of time. She said something else in fluent Italian then Claudia nodded and held my hand as I steered her to the bedroom still in a daze. Chapter 3 The drive back from the airport gave me plenty of time to think. In the previous 24 hours my life had been turned on its head. Before stepping out of the chartered aircraft at Exeter airport everything had been mapped out for me, university, Chambers in London, barrister then judge. Simple. But if the journey back was insightful, the hours spent in the car with Claudia were an epiphany. Far from being a dumb high class hooker, she was a fascinating multilingual, multi-skilled and very, very smart woman. The first of a series of surprises began as I waited for her in the car just after 7am. My 'induction' into the organisation had finished around 5 am. I was physically spent and emotionally depleted, desiring only to roll over and go to sleep. Shock Treatment Pt. 01 But not Claudia. She headed off to the bathroom and had not returned for a while when I heard the front door click shut. Curious I threw back the black silk sheets and padded to the window. Being mid summer it was already daylight and below on the driveway, there was Claudia. She was dressed in running clothes and shoes, doing her stretches and warm up exercises. I watched long enough to see her sexy ass bounce off down the winding driveway. The next time I saw her she was saying goodbye to my grandmother. They kissed in the classic Italian manner and Claudia walked across to the car. She wore skin-tight jeans, a loose grey 'T' shirt, a short brown leather jacket and worn trainers. Gone was her make-up and she carried a rucksack over one shoulder. With her shock of black curls she looked like a twenty-something girl-next-door setting off on a backpacking holiday. I got out of the car to secure her rucksack to the luggage rack and mumbled "Buon Giorno," which was almost the limit of my Italian vocabulary. Claudia looked at me with an amused smile and said in a perfect English accent, "Good morning Peter, I hope you slept well after all your exertions last night?" I think I was so stunned that I just stood there with my mouth open. "Peter!" she interrupted, "Don't you think we better get moving if I'm to catch my flight, I've got a meeting in Verona at 5 pm?" During our journey to Exeter airport Claudia gave me an in-depth explanation of the business she, or 'we', I should say, were in. She told how she had been recruited at University, where she was studying modern languages and politics. How she had been interviewed, medically examined and her background thoroughly researched before any job offer. She had quickly realised her potential earnings and of the many influential contacts she could make with the great and the good of Europe. And of course had accepted. Having signed the same gagging order contract as me we both felt at ease discussing people and places that we could never mention to anyone else. She went on to name several of her top clients, names I had seen regularly on front pages of newspapers magazines and the TV. The scale and influence of the organisation made me even more proud of my brilliant grandmother. ... It was almost midday before I arrived back from the airport. With only one hour sleep in the previous two days I felt dog-tired, wishing only for a dark room and welcoming sleep. But Nan was waiting for me with a large cup of coffee in one hand and a plate of hot buttered toast in the other. She looked much different from when she waved Claudia and me off to the airport earlier. Now she was dressed very simply in tight blue jeans and a black 'T' shirt that showed her still firm breasts and erect nipples. She wore no makeup and her hair was piled high on her head in a casual up-do style. Whether out of habit or deference to me she still wore stockings which just showed below the bottom of her jeans. Despite her age she still maintained an athletes toned figure. The only clue to her age were small wrinkles around her eyes and mouth and the inevitable creases around her long neck. I thought she looked fabulous no matter what she wore - because then I knew I was deeply love with her. She kissed me gently on the lips and said, "Welcome back love." I should have thanked her, made my excuses and gone to bed. Instead I drank the coffee, had a second cup and enjoyed the toast. A little later we sat close together on the sofa to watch something she had recorded and insisted we watched together. The giant wall-mounted HD TV screen lit up showing a colour view of the guest bedroom from a security camera high up in one corner. A few moments later Claudia came into view still holding my hand. I watched myself standing helpless beside the bed as she slowly undid the belt of her raincoat and let it fall to the floor. I caught my breath and turned to Nan, who gave me a butter-wouldn't- melt look. "You watched us?" I said in amazement. "Every fumbling, breathless thrust and uncontrolled ejaculation," she said in a matter of fact manner. "I warned you that forfeits had to be paid back!" Then I recalled what she had said in the car, "I suppose driving Claudia to the airport was the second?" She nodded, then indicated the screen using a laser pointer built into the TV controller. The red spot of light moved across the screen and circled the area of my crotch which bulged with a huge erection. "Now I know why you're nickname is 'Dong' at school, you're hung like a thoroughbred stallion Peter. I felt quite envious of Claudia!" she chuckled, giving me a tender hug. I hung my head in embarrassment. How could she possibly have known my school nickname? In the video the magnificent Claudia wore a red skin-tight latex body suit with matching killer stilettos, suspenders and red latex stockings. The outfit had holes for each of her incredibly firm breasts, emphasising her large brown areolas and erect nipples. Around her neck she wore a single string of pearls. Nothing else. This felt surreal. Nan cuddled up even closer to me her wonderfully firm breasts caressing my arm and her long shapely legs brushing against mine. My pulse quickened and once again my cock obediently stiffened with pre-come beginning to ooze from my knob. "I can't believe you videoed us!" I exclaimed. "Shhh..." She said softly, "better get used it this because this is the businesses your taking on. And before you ask, yes, your mother and father watched it live over the Internet!" In my head I felt I'd just received an emotional pummelling. I was reeling with the image of my parents watching me loose my virginity with a hooker! What the fuck was happening to me? Was this for real? Nan's perfume filled my head, her warm breath caressed my neck and shoulder. But I was simultaneously living a sexual dream and a cringing family nightmare. On the screen I was still standing motionless as Claudia gently unbuttoned my shorts, letting them fall to the floor and revealing my savage hard-on. At that point the camera zoomed in on my prick, showing bulging veins and throbbing purple head. I looked from the TV to Nan then back to the TV in bewilderment as Claudia gently eased me back to sit on the bed, helping me take off my 'T' shirt. Then she began a catwalk up and down the room in her 5" stilettos, teasing and posing, so I could view her incredible body from every angle. "She's good Peter, take note of how she works you, something you'll need to know when you have to select new talent." For a moment or two I was speechless and even more confused, then said, "But I'm going to read law at Uni you know that!" Nan smiled then said, "You mean you don't want to have wall-to-wall sexy women at your beck and call for the rest of your days, living the dream life of a millionaire playboy. My, you do surprise me Peter, and we all thought you were intelligent!" By now Claudia had kneeled down between my legs, taken hold of my prick and was giving glorious head. I could relive the intense pleasure again as I watched myself lay back on the bed, my mind in paradise. Her lips worked the head while she stroked my shaft, pausing occasionally to caress both head and shaft with her glossy long fingernails. Eventually Claudia gently released my prick, and taking my hand, guided it down to undo the zip to expose her mound and beautiful cunt. The memory of this was so vivid I almost came again, but Nan, seeming to sense what I was thinking said, "Learn to control it Peter so you come only when you want to." It was as if she could read my mind. Claudia guided my hands to her breasts and finally down her stomach to find and caress her inviting mound. "I picked Claudia specially for you Peter," Nan said, "I thought your first fuck should be with an Amazon warrior to help you overcome your fear of women." "Normally she manages my Milan business but I asked her to do this for me as a special favour. By the way, If you wanted to purchase her services for one night it would cost you more than $6000 an hour, that's an expensive fuck!" she added, "but it keeps out the riffraff." "$6000 an hour, that's almost £4000, jeez fuck Jen, no wonder you're a millionaire!" I blurted out. Nan beamed at me again but cautioned, "that's not all profit Dong, our girls are high maintenance beauties, hair, wardrobe makeup, travel, medical and plastic surgery of course!" I had sworn and she had used my nickname - I think I was beginning to lose my inhibitions. "Can I ask you a really personal question Jen?" I said half expecting her to shake her head. "How many men have you had sex with, ten, twenty?" "More than that Peter, many more then that, I can't remember the actual number but it was more than 3000 at the last count? I keep a record of every fuck I've ever had, you can look at my diaries later if you want to?" "Holy shit Jen, I never imagined you'd been a hooker... I mean..." I stammered. She threw her head back and roared with laughter, "How did you think I can afford all this luxury, my old age pension?" "I didn't know!" I said, a smart guy who had just been revealed as the village idiot. "Time for you to wake up and smell the coffee Peter, my business is what pays for your London house and all the costs of your education!" I felt like I had been blind and in that instant could see with 20:20 vision for the first time in my life. Most of my life I've was away at boarding school and never really understood exactly what my parents did. "So my mother and father work for you?" I asked incredulously. "Not exactly work for me, more work with me. They're joint directors of the agency. Your father manages the finances and your mother looks after the physical health of all the girls. And we all agree that you should join the board with a long-term view of taking over from me." Another bombshell! My brain was swirling. On the TV the lovely Claudia was now astride me, supporting herself with arms stretching back behind her, humping me in an wonderfully erotic bouncing movement. She wriggled, moved and tightened her cunt around my shaft, using every technique she knew to pleasure me. We watched as my inexperienced hands searched out her stocking tops, linking my fingers into her suspender straps. Then the view changed to another camera that gradually zoomed in and focussed on my face. I recalled struggling to hold back my orgasm and failing as I shot my load deep inside her, pulsing and shuddering in ecstasy. My pleasure was beyond description. This was no run-of-the-mill coupling, this was a master-class in the erotic black art of the professional fuck. And at that point I realised why those men used to the highest quality in every aspect of their lives, would pay a small fortune to experience the tantalising skills of awesome beauties like Claudia. "I'm surprised you held on so long Peter!" Nan said, her eyes studying the screen intently. "How did it feel, your first fuck?" "Out of this world" I said, "unbelievably erotic and better than I could ever imagine," I admitted. "I love it and want more!" Nan cuddled me and gently slid a hand under my "T" shirt and began gently massaging my nipples. "Sex always feels better bareback, condoms are like running wearing rubber boots! All our girls fuck bare-back Peter, it's what makes us so attractive to millionaires, royalty, politicians and leading businessmen. Your mum checks them regularly and ensure they're healthy. And it's bareback that sets us above the competition and it's what makes us all rich. Many of the girls marry former clients, but we have a very expensive buyout clause in place when that happens." Once again the camera view changed. Claudia had by now moved off me and was stimulating my young cock for a second fuck using her full lips and artistic slim fingers. "That was really thoughtful of her," Nan said, "she was determined to show you how it's done properly. I must send her a bonus." But my mind had been chewing over the revelations about the source of our family prosperity. "So the meeting that Claudia was flying back for was with my parents?" I said thoughtfully. "I knew all that expensive education wasn't wasted," she said giving me a knowing wink. We were both quiet as we watched Claudia coach another bone-hard erection from me. Then with a gentle push she lay back on the bed invitingly, coaxed me to mount her and guided my rock hard cock into her beautifully shaved sex. Once I was deep inside her she lifted her long legs around me, gripping me tightly around my waist and locking me in. Gradually we synchronised our thrusting and it wasn't long before I stiffened, thrust deeply and orgasmed for the second time in the last 15 minutes. The pulsing of my ejaculation seemed to go on for ever, but eventually the waves of ecstasy began to wane and stop. Then I slumped forwards onto Claudia, my lips searching out hers." Nan's hand was now arousing me and I put an arm around her neck my hand touching her breast. "Don't be shy Peter, if your going to take over my business you must learn to be bold and take the initiative. You want to cradle my breasts and caress my nipples, so do it!" she demanded. One day soon you will have to select new girls for the various bureaus and the only way to know how good they are is to test drive them. If they can't fuck you all night they fail the interview. You must be ready to spend most of your working nights with new women and you will have to dominate them or they will manipulate you. Fucking must become your finest skill. Indeed all forms of sexual depravity and kink must become second nature to you. Believe me you have so much to learn about sex. I hesitated for moment then slid my hand up inside her "T" shirt, cupping her breast for the first magic time. I could have wept with pleasure as I felt her erect nipples and gently massaged them between finger and thumb. Looking back to the TV I watched myself still locked in a passionate kiss with Claudia, tasting the salt of our mixed love juices for the first time. Unable to hold my passion any longer I turned and kissed Nan fully on the mouth. She immediately responded, opening her lips and sliding her tongue into my mouth. I was consumed with passion now and we struggled to maintain the kiss as I lay her back on the sofa and kneeled over her. My knees stretched the material of her 'T' shirt over the mounds of her breasts, her erect nipples stood out like thick tent poles. Almost without thinking my hand slipped down to caress the mound of her sex. Taking a firm grip on my wandering hand she said softly, "Slow down cowboy, take your time. You must be gentle and keep arousing a woman. We don't get hard-ons like you guys. We need time to get to the boil, and we need lubricating. There's nothing worse than being penetrated by a huge dry prick - believe me I know." I hesitated then smiled down at her. "Good sex can't be rushed Peter, don't forget out clients are paying a small fortune to fuck our beautiful girls, and they want their monies worth. The most satisfying fuck is one that builds up slowly, maybe an hour or two to get to the boil. Orgasms are multiplied by slow foreplay and heightened anticipation. It's about remaining focused, staying above the immediate desire to come, gradually building up desire." This was sage advice for me at the beginning of a life in the strange world of the sex industry. Slow down, feel your way gently and fan the flames slowly - the only way for both partners to obtain sexual fulfillment. Nan again cupped my face in both her hands and brought her sweet familiar features close up to mine until her perfume filled my head with desire. Looking up at me, she seemed to scan my face as if looking for some sign or indication of my thoughts. "Do you really want to lay me Peter, truly want to fuck me?" "And come inside you Jen," I said sincerely. "Honestly? Why would you want an old body like mine when I could lift up the telephone and arrange for two or even three beautiful sexy young honeys to pleasure you in ways you couldn't begin to imagine? Or would you like me to fly Claudia back again to teach you new ways of pleasure?" "I want to fuck you more than anyone else in the world," I said softly, "surely you know I'm in love with you? Claudia was pure boyhood lust, but it would be different with you." She lay still for a moment, unsure whether to continue down this one way path to hell. "Yes I know you love me Peter, and I have deep feelings for you. But incest remains the only sexual taboo I've never broken," she said seriously. Then she smiled and said, "One thing is for sure, at my age it doesn't matter how potent that youthful cum of yours is, I can't get pregnant, that's for sure!" And we both laughed. Then she reached out, picked up the controller and fast forwarded the video quite a few minutes before we resumed our voyeurism at a point where I looked ecstatic in the doggy position holding onto Claudia's latex clad hips and thrusting hard. We watched and waited until I had climaxed for the third time that night, my head thrown back, eyes closed and convulsing in hard upward thrusts before Nan finally switched off the TV. As the sound of the TV segued into the crashing waves, I turned to her and asked one of the most important questions of my life. "Can we go to bed now?" She looked at me quizzically and shrugged her shoulders, giving me a look that told me I had said something wrong. Realising she wanted me to tell her rather than ask, I moved off her, and standing by the sofa, I took hold of her hand and said more forcefully, "Let's go to my bed, I want to take you now!" She beamed in approval at my boldness and nodded. Swinging her legs off the bed she stretched up to kiss me on the lips and said, "My bed will be better." We walked out of the TV room hand in hand, my prick rampant inside my pants. Her robe hung casually open offering me a tantalising view of her silken legs and firm sit-up-and-beg breasts. I was going to fuck my gloriously sexy grandmother and all thoughts of a career had evaporated. Shock Treatment After the meal Julie cleared the dishes while Scott made coffee and brought two cups to the table. Sitting down facing her, he said, "I guess maybe it's time for a talk?" She smiled at him and said, "I was hoping we could do that upstairs. Could you load the dishwasher and give me a couple of minutes, and then meet me in the bedroom?" When Scott came into the master bedroom he was greeted by the sight of Julie, standing and seeming to pose in the middle of the room. Her hair was down, and she wore a long black negligee with lace panels that offered teasing glimpses of her breasts and pubic hair. She was blushing a little with embarrassment, but she looked sexy as hell. "Wow!" was all Scott could come up with. "Glad you like it," she said, coming towards him. "Now let's get you more comfortable." Julie turned off the lights, leaving only a bedside lamp on. Without any further words she seated him on the bed and began to undress him. Taking her time, she removed his clothes, touching and stroking his legs, his arms and his chest as they became visible. At first she seemed nervous, but soon she was enjoying what she was doing. When Scott was naked, she urged him gently up to the head of the bed and arranged him comfortably on his back, his head on a pillow. Then, lying nestled by his side, she began to kiss his cheek and his neck, while running one hand down his side, around his thighs, and finally, slowly, teasingly, onto his semi-erect cock. She kept up the kisses and the stroking until he was very hard; then she knelt by his side, smiling into his eyes, and took his cock into her mouth. A surprised and delighted Scott tried to reach for her, but she gently pushed his hands away and continued to lick and suck him. Despite what he knew was her inexperience, Julie gradually took more and more of his erection into her mouth, sliding up and down his shaft teasingly. After a couple of minutes, to his astonishment, she had taken all of his 5½ inches and her lips were touching the hair at the base of his cock. Scott groaned his pleasure and approval, as she continued to bathe him with her lips and tongue. She could feel his rising excitement, and after 2-3 more minutes she pulled off him and said, "the next time I'm going to finish you this way—but right now I'd like this inside me, OK?" Still taking the lead, she re-arranged Scott in a sitting position, his back against a pillow propped up against the headboard. Then she straddled him, kneeling, and slid his cock into her very wet pussy. They groaned together at the wonderful feeling of being united. Scott was astonished by her initiative—they had never done it this way before. "This way you can reach my breasts at the same time," she said a little breathlessly, and he responded by pulling the hem of her nightie up and over her head, leaving her naked. They fucked slowly, deliciously, enjoying every sensation. She kissed him deeply, probing with her tongue, enjoying the feeling of his hands cupping and stroking her breasts. Then she sat up straighter and pulled his head to a nipple, which he sucked eagerly. As his sucking got her more and more excited she rose and fell more rapidly on Scott's dick. Soon her breast fell away from his lips as they both began breathing harder. Scott held her ass cheeks firmly, pulling her down on him harder with each stroke. He said, "my God—my God, I'm gonna come!" Frantically she bounced on him, and her orgasm hit her just before his arrived. He could feel the tight spasms of her pussy around him as he shot his sperm up into her. They held one another tightly, gasping, for many seconds; then with a sigh they gradually relaxed, and she collapsed against him, her head on his shoulder. After a couple of minutes Scott said, "you know what I said a little while ago? I'd just like to go on record as saying it again." "What was that, baby?" she asked dreamily. "Wow!" he answered, with a laugh. They lay in one another's arms, relaxed and happy, not talking much, just enjoying the feel of each other. After a while Julie rose and disappeared into the bathroom. She came out minutes later with a warm washcloth, which she used to gently wash off Scott's cock and balls. She returned the cloth to the bathroom, then lay down beside him again. Scott felt her fingers trailing over his chest, then his legs, and finally teasing into his pubic hair. He lay still, content to let Julie take the lead as she had earlier—that had certainly worked out pretty well! After a few minutes Julie once again had Scott's erect cock in her mouth, and again she worked all the way down the shaft, before sliding off and giving each of his balls some attention with her lips and tongue. Then she returned to the cock, sucking harder and using her hand to hold and caress his balls as she brought him closer and closer to a climax. This time when Scott's hips began to jerk, indicating an imminent ejaculation, she stayed right with him and he exploded into her mouth. He watched in amazement as she swallowed. "Not so much the second time as there would have been before," she said to him calmly, and they both laughed. Julie crossed the room to turn out the light, then snuggled back in bed next to Scott and pulled the covers up over them. "Maybe that'll hold you for a little while," she said with a smile. Still looking happy but a bit shell-shocked, Scott said very seriously, "I love you, Julie." "Me too," she whispered, holding him close. In a few minutes they were both asleep. *** *** *** When Scott awoke the next morning, he stretched and yawned. He felt great! Then he glanced at the clock and started in horror. It was 9:30, and he was already late for work! He was about to leap out of the bed when Julie's hand on his arm restrained him. She was lying on her side watching him and smiling. She was again wearing last night's beautiful nightie. "Relax, big fella. You've got the day off. Seems you have a touch of the flu. Or at least that's what I told your office when I called." Scott grinned at her. "Now that you mention it, I do feel a little sick. Maybe a day of bed-rest..." He pulled her to him, and they shared a long kiss. "Now take your shower," she told him. "I've already had mine. When you're done, come on downstairs and breakfast will be ready. We've got to keep your strength up, seeing as you have the flu and all." Greeting him in the kitchen was a tableful of food: waffles with syrup, bacon, some scrambled eggs, and coffee. Scott and Julie ate greedily, not talking much but smiling at one another, pausing every once in a while for a kiss. He looked very happy but a bit dazed; Julie just looked happy. When they'd finished, Scott said, "how about if I clean this up? It was so nice of you to make all of this for us." "Let's let it sit, honey. I need you upstairs for something." Julie grabbed something from the table and headed for their bedroom, with an eager Scott in her wake. They lay on the bed, kissing and caressing one another. Scott had his hands under her nightie, one teasing a breast, the other gently stroking her pussy-lips. She was running her hands all over his back and chest, and down under his boxer-shorts. Then she sat up. "I think we need the covers off for this." She pulled off her nightie, and pulled the covers down off the bottom of the bed. Then she lay back and, picking up the bottle of syrup she'd brought from the kitchen, poured a thin stream of it around each of her nipples, then down over her belly into her pussy hair and her lips. "You've always had a sweet tooth, right Scott?" "Who ARE you, and what have you done with my wife?" he asked in amazement. "Wait, don't answer that!" Scott took his time, eager to get every bit of the syrup with his lips and to give his wife as much pleasure as he could. By the time he left her breasts the nipples were rigid and pointing at the ceiling; and her groans grew deeper and more excited as he hunted through her pubic hair and tasted the syrup on her pussy lips. Soon the syrup was all gone, but Scott didn't feel the need to tell his wife that! He kept his tongue circling around her clit, then sliding up and down the lips. Finally he slid two fingers into her pussy, while sucking harder on her clit and its hood. Julie gasped, and her hips began humping up against his mouth. "Oh, oh," she moaned, faster and faster, until with a long delicious groan she reached her climax. Julie lay in delighted exhaustion for a few moments. Then she pulled Scott up to her, tasting herself on his mouth as she kissed him repeatedly. "Are you hard?" she asked, feeling for his cock. "Oh yes, indeed you are! Come down here, baby." Julie moved to the foot of the bed and got down on her knees, bending at the waist and letting her head and upper body lie flat on the bed. She spread her knees widely apart, so that her pussy was visible and tempting. Looking back over her shoulder at Scott she asked, "can we try it this way?" Scott didn't know if he was more amazed or excited, but he didn't waste time on the answer. Sliding his knees in between hers, he smoothly pushed inside her, going as deep as he could, feeling her warm ass and thighs against him. He loved fucking her from behind! Having already orgasmed, Julie felt sexy but relaxed. She gloried in the pleasure of Scott's cock so deep within her, and moaned happily as he took his time, working his own excitement up to a fever pitch. When he got close to his own orgasm, after several wonderful minutes, he held her hips and pulled her back against him with each thrust, until he climaxed noisily and joyfully inside her, and collapsed with a happy groan over her back. They took a shower together, washing each other gently; then they dressed and went downstairs to sit close together on the couch. "May I take it that you've forgiven me for the awful thing I did to you?" Scott asked her seriously. With a smile Julie said, "yes—both for the awful thing you did, and the more awful thing you didn't do, thank God!" He hugged her, and said, "we seem to be on a somewhat different footing, ah, sexually." Julie laughed with delight at the unsure look on his face. "I think you could say that, baby!" Then more seriously she added, "it wasn't just what you did, Scott. I also had a long talk with Susan on Saturday. I can tell you about it sometime—but let's just say that their sex life sounds much more like what you're hoping for than ours was. I guess I realized that what you've been asking for isn't so extreme or outrageous." He nodded, and kissed her. "Well, if last night and this morning are anything to go by, you may have to start facing life with an excessively happy husband!" "I don't know if I can keep up THAT pace," she replied, smiling. "But we're going to be making love a lot more, and trying new things too—I promise, baby." Then, after another minute and an obvious hesitation, he said, "Julie, some of ... some of what ... we did, last night and today—they were a big surprise, you know? I mean wonderful, terrific! But ... not what I would have expected from you." He almost seemed afraid to say more, and Julie laughed again. "Oh, that was all just my Sunday morning shopping excursion, Scott." He looked puzzled, and she went on. "Victoria's Secret, for a new nightie and a few other items you might see before too long. Barnes & Noble, for a couple of books from the Love and Sex section. They have some good ones on sexual positions. And the grocery store, of course." "The grocery store?" He was still puzzled. "You mean for last night's dinner?" "No, silly, for some bananas. I had to have SOMETHING to practice on!"