27 comments/  185420 views/  19 favorites

Sweeter Than Roses

By: Penelope Street



© 2004 by Penelope Street

Last night I dreamed of a dark horse.  With the images in my mind both fresh and vivid, I seek the dictionary of dreams I keep in my bedside table, to discover if there is any significance to this particular nighttime vision.  I learn a dream of a black horse is a dream of passion.  Considering all that has happened in the past few weeks, I am not surprised.

With a sigh of satisfaction, I allow my body to fall back onto my bed.  My thoughts fall back as well, to the time but a fortnight ago when no dark horse would have dared grace my nocturnal visions.

It started in the dreary morning of a late autumn Monday.  I sat with my cup of coffee by the parlor window, gazing outside at nothing in particular.  In retrospect, I was just watching the world go by, as I had for most of my life.

My meandering gaze left the white of the snow-covered lawn for the gray of the concrete walk and I recalled how I had there with teary eyes seen my first-borne off to school.  He had waddled down the sidewalk without looking back.  His brother had done the same the next year.  And their sister in September last.  

With secret shame, I had awaited the moment when my children would all be in school that I might have some time to myself.  Now that the moment had arrived and, like all moments do, passed, I found I had nothing much to do with the time I had once imagined to be so precious.  I listened for a moment to nothing, remembering the days with a house full of noise when I would have given almost anything for a morning's peace.  The very quiet I had once coveted turned out to be haunting instead of comforting.

I extended my fingers and put them against the cold glass of the window, only to remove them and watch the pane claim the fuzzy gray imprints of warmth that I had left upon it.  The bleakness of late autumn seemed to be trying to swallow my soul much as the glass had consumed my heat.

My eyes wandered the parlor of my home.  It was a pleasant, comfortable dwelling.  My husband was a good provider.  Our children were at school.  Wasn't this what every woman was supposed to want?  The Yuletide holidays were fast approaching.  Wasn't this supposed to be the most joyous time of the year?  Why was I so miserable?

The scare over missiles in Cuba last year and the assassination of the president but a fortnight before had given everyone reason to put their own existence in a new perspective, but I couldn't seem to find one.  I was haunted not by the fear of an untimely death or the specter of nuclear annihilation.  My terror was the prospect of year upon year of endless tedium, until the day my descendants would finally plant my remains in the earth, utter a few customary phrases, and then forget I had ever lived at all.

I retreated to the kitchen to clean up, although there was not anything I knew to be untidy there.  By mid-morning I could find nothing else that I could even pretend needed cleaning.

Half thinking and half hoping a walk might brighten my spirits, I donned my coat and ventured out into the crisp air.  During the summer I would certainly have stumbled upon someone doing a bit of gardening or the like, but this day the neighborhood was as chilly socially as it was meteorologically.

For a second or two, I considered going down to the beauty salon to sit and chat with the other ladies, but I rejected the idea on the same grounds I always had- to me it still seemed more appealing to be the subject of the gossip than the recipient of it.

I continued along the ubiquitous avenues in no particular pattern, finally returning to my street in the same somber mood I had departed.

The day might have gone as any other, and my life with it, but for Mr. Stanley, the owner of the house adjacent to ours, arriving home for what I at first imagined to be lunch.  The young man leapt from his vehicle before it had even come to a complete stop.  Without so much as a glance my way, he rushed into the house, leaving both the door of his automobile and that of his home open in his wake.

Certain there was some emergency, I shifted my gaze through the Stanleys' picture window- this being no problem since their drapes were as wide as their door.

Mr. Stanley met his wife in their parlor. Without a word they embraced, using both mouths and bodies to caress one another.

I expect my eyes must have widened considerably in the moment I first comprehended the nature of the crisis.  In shock I stared as the man lifted his wife just as if it might be their wedding night and began to carry her toward the stairs.

As Mrs. Stanley swung within her husband's arms, her field of view passed out of the window.  At once, her eyes locked upon my own.  I felt the warmth of blood rushing to my cheeks, yet I still could not pry my eyes from the scene.  The young lady issued a subtle smile and wave before the couple disappeared.

I looked about and was relieved to find the street as deserted as it had been all morning.  With a sigh, I turned back to the Stanleys' still open front door, trying to imagine my Russell being so smitten with my charms that he might be willing to heat the entire neighborhood to get to me but a moment sooner.  

Shaking my head, I scolded myself for being nosy and scurried back along the walkway toward my home.  Upon arrival, I scanned my tranquil parlor and wondered what passions, if any, would ever play out there.  None, I concluded with a sigh.

The afternoon wore on and the sun made an overdue appearance, brightening my spirits none, but my courage some.  I put on what I considered to be a flattering dress, combed my hair, and added a touch of lipstick and eyeliner.

Keeping my eyes to the gray ribbon concrete that split our lawn, I strode from my house to the street, along the sidewalk and then returned along the Stanleys' walkway.  Without giving my determination a chance to waver, I rapped upon their door.

A handful of seconds later, the entry opened to reveal a floral pastel dress and the hourglass frame within.  My eyes did not long linger on the dress- Mrs. Stanley's face could outshine any fabric.  Creamy full cheeks contrasted with the jet-black of her wavy, shoulder-length locks.  Her eyebrows and lashes were just as thick and dark, framing a pair of piercing gray orbs.  She was but the final step of her concrete porch above me, yet she hovered over me much like a pastor at the pulpit.

Her mouth curved in a smile.  "Why, good afternoon, Mrs. Kramer.  To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's Barbara," I insisted.  "I came to apologize for snooping earlier.  You see, the way your husband ran into your home, I thought there must have been some trouble..."

"Good trouble," Mrs. Stanley interjected with a smile.  "And I'm Elaine, remember?"  She shifted to one side and held the door wider.  "Would you care to come in?"

I didn't really want to.  I had only intended to make amends for any imagined affront, yet I did not wish to appear rude.  My head bobbed forward in a modest nod.  "Thank you."

"Can I get you anything?" Elaine offered as I passed.  "Tea?  Water?  Sandwich?"

"No, thanks," I replied.  "I just ate."

"Oh," Elaine said.  "Well, perhaps we could just chat a bit.  I'm afraid I haven't been a very good member of the block.  Donald and I have been so busy with things, we haven't had much chance to come by and see all our new neighbors."

"Not to worry," I assured her as I took a seat on her second-hand sofa.  "I was the one that was being the bad neighbor, remember?"

Elaine smiled and flipped her open palm downward as if to dismiss the notion.  "Oh, nonsense," she said, taking a seat in a cushioned chair that did not match the couch.  "If we were worried about people looking through our window, we would have closed the curtains.  Besides, it's not as if we were doing anything wrong."

I nodded.  "I suppose not."

An awkward silence ensued, made more awkward by the question that ended it.

"Doesn't your husband ever come home during the day for sex?"

My entire body stiffened as I absorbed the inquiry.  My initial instinct was to feign indignation and depart, but a moment later I decided that would, at the very least, make it appear as though I was ashamed of the answer.

"No," I replied.  "I can't say that he ever has."

Elaine tilted her head and twisted her features.  "Why?  Do you have young ones?"

I smiled.  "Yes.  Three, but they're all in school."

Elaine smiled.  "Sounds like every woman's dream."

I suspect my blank expression must have said what my mouth did not.

Elaine sat upright.  "I'm sorry," she offered.  "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," I lied.

"You looked sad."

"I think it's just the season."

"Are you sure?  Sometimes marriage can be quite the rut."

I forced a smile.  "Yes.  It can."

Elaine's head leaned to one side.  "Your husband treats you well, doesn't he."

In spite of my wishes, my eyes left hers for the floor.  "Sure."

"But...?"

I shrugged.  "Something seems missing."

"I did say marriage can be a rut, didn't I?"

"Yeah.  Maybe that's all it is."

"Why'd you get married in the first place?"

I sighed. "My mother said he was a good man."

"Your mother?"  Elaine smiled.  "Did you always do what your mother said?"

My eyes wandered.  "Yes.  Our father died before I was old enough to remember him."

Elaine sighed, then nodded.  "I'm sorry."

I shrugged.  "Me too.  I'm sure my mother was just trying to be sure I had what she didn't.  And she was right, he is a good man."

"But you do love Mr. Kramer?"

"Of course!"  I replied at once.  "And his name is Russell."

"What attracted you to him in the first place?"

The ends of my lips curled upward and my cheeks warmed.  "I always thought he was kinda cute."

Elaine smiled back.  "Oh, he's more than cute."

My smile vanished.  I wasn't sure whether to be happy or alarmed that she thought my husband attractive.  "Thank you," I managed, for lack of anything better to say.

"How many men did you date before Russell?"

"Three."

"Were they cute too?"

My eyes wandered to one side as my thoughts drifted back.  "Yeah," I said, smiling again. "They were cute too."

"How many did you fuck?"

My jaw dropped as my eyes snapped back to Elaine.  "What?"

"How many men have you had sex with besides Russell?" she pressed in a disturbing monotone.

For the second time, the urge to make a hasty and altogether appropriate exit rose within me- but something else rose along with it.  I'd never had a chance to speak to another soul about such things- not my mother, not my sister, not anyone.  The opportunity to do so, even with a near stranger, overwhelmed my reservations.  

"None," I replied.

"Why?"

"Because it isn't proper."

"You mean it wasn't proper?"

"What?"

"Times are changing," Elaine said.  "Most brides these days aren't virgins.  Quite a few have had sex with someone besides the groom too."

"Really?"

"Yes."  My hostess paused to smile.  "Isn't that wonderful? In another generation, two at the most, no one will think a thing about an unmarried girl having sex."

"How do you know?"

"Reading mostly."

"Like what?"

"'Sex and the Single Girl.'"

"But you aren't single," I noted.

Elaine grinned.  "True, but that's no reason I have to quit living.  I take it you've not read the book?"

"Never heard of it."

"What about the 'Kama Sutra?'"

"What's that?"

"An Asian sexual manual," Elaine explained.  "It's hundreds of years old."

"What?"  I stammered.  "Hundreds of years?"

"Yes," Elaine said with a grin.  "People had sex back then too."

I smirked at the lady's subtle, condescending tone, but decided to make no additional issue of it.  "I'm not sure I would put much stock in something that old," I announced.  "Where does one get a book like that?"

"Lots of places," Elaine related.  "Do you ever get out?"

"I guess not."  My eyes roamed the room.  "Where do you keep these books?"

"Why upstairs, of course," Elaine related.

I nodded.  "I suppose you would want to keep them out of sight."

"Not at all!"  Elaine said, hopping from her seat.  "Upstairs is just where they are most handy.  Come on, I'll show you."  She practically bounded up the steps without awaiting reply.

With a sigh, I followed at what I considered a dignified pace.

My hostess waited for me at the top of the staircase.  "Should I take it you do not have any similar books that help you with your sex life?" she asked before continuing down the corridor.

I followed.  "Certainly not."

"Well," Elaine began as she entered her room.  "Perhaps you can help me then."

I pivoted my head so as to view the young lady with but one of my eyes.  "What do you mean?"

"If you don't need any reference material," Elaine started.  "Then you must have vast knowledge on the subject."

I stared at Mrs. Stanley for several seconds, unable to decide if she was deriding me or if she was daft in the innocent way of idiots. Deciding it was likely the former, I drew a deep breath before replying, "Hardly."

Elaine tilted her head.  "No?"

"No."

For several seconds, Elaine's head moved in a shallow nod.  "How many times per day do you have sex?"

My mouth fell open and I cycled a single deep breath.  "Where are you from?"

"Connecticut."

"Well," I began, "here in Wisconsin it's not considered proper to discuss such things in public."

Elaine shrugged.  "It's probably not in Connecticut either.  But we aren't in public, are we?  Who else am I supposed to discuss things with?"

"Your husband?"  I suggested.

"We do!"  Elaine replied with a smile.  "But sometimes it's nice to have another woman's perspective.  Don't you agree?"

I paused to swallow.  "Yes, sometimes that is nice."

"Well, then," Elaine said, "Donald and I usually only make love once per day during the week, and twice on weekends.  Of course, I'm counting all forms of sex, not just coitus.  How about you?"

I pursed my lips and exhaled an extended breath as I tried to both interpret her statement and consider her question.  "Maybe a couple times a week," I finally replied, though it was a definite exaggeration.

Elaine's tongue crept from her mouth just enough to trace the lower edge of her upper lip.  "That's probably about average," she noted.  "Kind of sad, huh?"  She strolled to her bookcase and ran her finger along the tops of the books.  "Did you used to get more?"

I shrugged as I recalled some of the thrill of youth.  "I guess."

"That's normal too," Elaine said.  "And it's ok, I guess."  Her eyes crept up from the books to meet my gaze.  "Unless you want more?"

Her piercing gray orbs hammered at, then overwhelmed, my reservations.  "I guess I'd like a little romance too.  Russell never brings me roses anymore."

"Did you ever bring him roses?"

I creased my brow.  "I don't think he ever wanted flowers."

"Are you sure?"

"Fairly."

"Then what did he want?"

My eyes fell to the floor as I began to see her point.  "I don't know that he ever really said."

"Maybe you should ask," Elaine suggested.  "But we came here to look at books, did we not?"  She motioned back toward the shelves.  "See anything you like?"

I perused the titles, most of which were not sexual.  The number of titles that were related to intimacy, however, still surprised me.  "And you've read all these?" I inquired.

"Yes," Elaine replied.  "Except the ones that are more or less reference works, like this one on dream interpretation." She moved an extended index finger to the center shelf and drew a thick volume a half-inch out of line.

"Dreams, eh?" I twisted my lips and my nose as I pondered the tome and its owner.  "One thing Russell does like is dinner ready when he gets home," I noted, glancing at the convenient clock on her nightstand.  "I should probably go."

Elaine nodded.  "Perhaps you can stop by again sometime when you don't need to cook all afternoon?"

"Perhaps," I responded, deliberately not suggesting that she might do the same.

I returned home to make one of my usual suppers, after which my husband, children, and I spent one of our usual evenings gathered about the television- the sort of evening that is gone before you know it even though you can't remember having done a thing. 

* * *

Mid-morning the next day I awoke feeling no more refreshed than when I had retired.  Scratching my head, I spun to sit on the edge of my mattress.  "Did I dream I was a pig?"  I mused aloud.  

I took my morning coffee, but felt no more alert.  Though my abdomen protested, I decided to skip breakfast and wait for lunch.

Soon I napped on the couch, blissfully slipping in and out of consciousness until a tusked intruder invaded my dream, my bliss, and my afternoon.  I awoke hours later dripping in my own sweat in spite of the coolness of the room.

Forgetting both dinner and my attire, I hurried next door.

"Why Barbara!"  Elaine held the door wide and smiled even wider.  "What a pleasant surprise.  Please, do come in."

"Thank you," I said as I passed over her threshold.

"Can I get you anything?" Elaine asked, closing the door.

"A book perhaps."

"A book?"  Her eyes sparkled above her smile.  "Which one?"

"The one on dreams," I announced.  "I keep having dreams about a pig- a very hungry pig.  I want to know if it's because I'm getting fat."

"I don't know," Elaine shrugged.  "I've never dreamed about a pig before."  Her gaze fell to my figure and she shook her head.  "But I can tell you that you aren't fat."

My eyes followed hers and, against my wishes, I compared our figures.  It was a contest over in an instant.  I looked back to Elaine.  "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," she said with a resolute nod.  "Let's go see what the dream really means."

Elaine scaled the stairs in the same haste she had the prior day.  By the time I caught up, she already had the book open across the foot of her bed.

"Let's see," Mrs. Stanley muttered as she thumbed through the back of the book "Ah.  Was it a boar or a sow?"

I creased my brow as I searched my memory.  "I'm not sure."

"It's your dream," Elaine pressed.  "Try and remember."

"Is there a difference?"  I asked.  "Why not just look them both up?"

"Because I said so.  Now think, which was it?"

I scowled, but searched my memory just the same.  "A boar," I said.  "It definitely had tusks, at least in one dream."

"Ok," Elaine continued.  "Let's go have a look at boars.  Yes, here we are."  She paused a moment before muttering, "Oh my, what did the boar do in your dreams?"

"He ate all the food and didn't leave any for the other pigs," I related.  "Then he chased the cows and horses away and ate their food too.  That's why I thought it was about overeating."

Elaine shook her head.  "See how easy it is go wrong.  A vision of the boar represents selfishness.  Notice how that fits your dream even better?"

I nodded my agreement.  "But who is selfish?  Me?"

"Could be," Elaine said.  "You said you didn't give Russell flowers, but you did give him dinner.  Is that all you ever do for him?"

"I clean the house."

"And he pays for it," Elaine countered.  "That's part of being a couple.  What do you do for him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Pigs are also one of the only animals to have sex purely for pleasure.  I doubt it's a complete coincidence."

I shook my head.  "I still don't see what you mean."

"When's the last time you gave Russell a really good blowjob?"

"A what?"

"A blowjob," Elaine repeated.  "You know, sucked his cock."

My mouth fell wide.  "What?"

"Cock," Elaine repeated.  "Cock.  Dick.  Penis.  All the same thing."

"I know what one is!"  I declared.  "And I've certainly never put my mouth on one!"

Elaine shrugged and slammed the book closed.  "Well, doesn't get much more selfish than that."


Sweeter Than Roses



My jaw succumbed to gravity.  "That's gross!"  I stammered.  "He's never asked for that!  He's never even mentioned that!  Who does that sort of thing?"

"I do that sort of thing," Elaine replied.  "A couple times per week, when Donald comes home from work.  He's always so happy to find me waiting at the front door, ready to unzip him.  And he's never had to ask."

I pressed my lips together, unable to imagine myself doing such a thing.  "I've never even heard of such things!  Is this a new fad?"

Elaine shook her head.  "The Beatles are a fad.  Cocksucking was popular with the Greeks and Romans a couple thousand years ago, but I'm sure it's been practiced far longer."

"Really?"  I half-gasped.  "Who would have thought?  Doesn't it, you know, taste like pee?"

Elaine smiled.  "It's just skin.  Sometimes there's a bit of briny flavor at first, but it wears off before you know it.  And I'm sure I taste the same way now and then."

My eyes dropped to the young lady's hips.  "You?" I asked.  "He puts his mouth down there?"

"Nothing's better than a mouth down there," Elaine purred.  "Russell never does that for you?"

"Of course not!"

"Why?"

"I don't know," I admitted.  "I didn't know anyone did it until five seconds ago."

"Suck your husband next chance you get," Elaine suggested.  "Do it and see what happens."

"I'm not sure I can."

"Do you have a mouth?" 

I nodded.

"Does Russell have a cock?"

"Yes!"

Elaine shrugged.  "Then you can."

"I don't know..."

"... how?" Elaine finished my sentence, but not the way I would have.  Smiling in an almost patronizing fashion, she shook her head.  "Why don't you come over tomorrow? I'll show you."

I creased my brow.  "Show me?"

Elaine's smile broadened as she nodded.  "Yes, show you.  What can it hurt to learn?"

My lips twitched.  "Nothing, I guess."

"Good.  But it'll have to wait until tomorrow.  Can I call you when I'm ready?"

"Sure." I said, though I was anything but certain.

"You take the book of dreams," Elaine insisted, handing me the tome.  "I have a feeling you may need it more than I will."

Several hours later, I ate with Russell and the kids as we began our evening routine.  Throughout the meal my eyes kept wandering to his manhood.  I tried to picture it in my mouth, but concluded at once that perhaps dinner with the family was the wrong time for imagining such things.

Still, I could think of little else for the remainder of the evening and all of the next morning as well, until the phone rang just before noon.

"Hello?"  I answered.

"This is Elaine.  Come over now."

I paused for a single deep breath.  "Ok.  I'll just get..."

"Now!"  Elaine repeated, and hung up.

Less than a minute later, I scurried across the lawns in my housecoat with snow crunching beneath my slippers.  Elaine opened the door before I even had a chance to knock.  "Come on," she instructed, looking past me toward the street.

I hurried inside, following my hostess once again to her bedroom.  She walked to her open closet door.  "In here."

"What?"  I queried.  "In the closet?"

"Yes," Elaine said.  "I've got a chair for you, behind the dresses.  I tested it myself.  If I'm kneeling here," she pointed at the floor, "and Donald is facing there," she turned to the corner, "then you should be able to see everything."

"Donald?"

"Yes.  My husband.  Who did you think I was going to suck?"

My meager mental faculties took several seconds to assimilate what she had in mind.  "You want me to watch?!"

Elaine nodded.  "I did say I was going to show you!"

My jaw dropped, but I was unable to compose a sentence before we heard the door open on the ground floor, followed by a masculine voice.  "Honey!"

"Hurry!"  Elaine whispered.  "Get in the closet!"

Without awaiting reply, my hostess departed, leaving me alone with a stomach that wanted to be somewhere else every bit as much as I did.  Unable to find another viable option, I crept into the shadows and hid behind her clothes.

Pulling the door until but a sliver of light remained, I determined to huddle behind the dresses and not watch, but my resolve wavered when the first shadow crossed the fissure.

"Not today," Elaine announced in a giddy voice.  She dropped to her knees but a few feet in front of the closet.  Her eyes darted to me for a split second before jumping upward to her husband.  "You've been a good little worshipper lately and you get a special treat."

Donald's form entered my narrow field of view, moving to stand before his wife.  I inhaled a crisp gasp as I saw the bulge in his trousers and realized I could soon see much more if I but broke my own promise.  

Elaine reached for his belt and began licking her lips as she unfastened the trousers.  With a start, I caught my own tongue doing the same thing!  I forced my mouth closed and scolded myself for being so decadent.

Mrs. Stanley cut her eyes again toward the closet as she freed her husband, keeping her steely orbs locked on me while she pulled his curving salmon-colored shaft from its cloth prison.  I inhaled a quick breath and held it.

The corners of Elaine's mouth curved upward just a shade.  Forming a fist about the base, she squeezed.  His cock swelled, turning a darker color.  Ripples erupted over its surface and the helmet-like crown bulged.

Turning her eyes from me, she ran her splayed tongue the length of the underside before steering his rigid shaft horizontal and plunging her lips over it.

My jaw fell as I watched my neighbor's lips slide up and down her husband's member.  Her cheeks shrank, then puffed, then shrank again in a steady rhythm that matched the bobbing of her head.  Without thinking, I clenched my thighs together, sandwiching my palms.  Glancing down at the warmth the edge of my hands found, I was forced to admit that I found the lurid display far more refreshing rather than revolting.

"Oh," Mr. Stanley moaned.  "That's so good."

Elaine paused just long enough to purr, "I just love sucking your cock," before resuming her oral nurturing, proceeding with more vigor and noise.  Her free hand glided beneath her skirt.  My own loins clenched and I squeezed my hands tighter between my thighs, but it did little to stop my squirming.  

Soon her slurping and his moaning reached a crescendo, composing a bawdy, seductive symphony.

Looking down toward the hand still tucked between my thighs, I discovered something had joined the warmth against the edge of my hand.  I relaxed my legs and allowed my fingers access to the moistness therein.  I gasped at finding myself so sodden.  

My hand crept upward to my nose.  I closed my eyes and inhaled, sampling the scent of my own excitement.  How long had it been since I had savored that aroma?  Too long, I am sure- yet the fragrance seemed fresh in my mind.  

I opened my eyes feeling younger than I could ever remember.

Mr. Stanley reclaimed my attention with a long, low moan, almost a whimper.  His hips began to buck in an irregular rhythm and his legs wobbled as if he might collapse.  Within his wife's hair, the man's fingers tightened.  His body was gripped by tremors and a series of gasps escaped his mouth.

Elaine did not miss a beat, continuing to pump and suckle while his thick rod pulsed within her mouth.

"Ok, ok," Mr. Stanley gasped.  "Stop.  That's enough."

Elaine plunged her lips over the better part of his spent shaft, her cheeks flexing as she increased her sucking.

"Stop!" Donald cried.  His fingers relaxed within her hair and he began to push against her scalp.  "You know it gets ticklish!"

After several seconds of such struggle, Elaine removed her mouth and flashed a closed-lipped grin.  "I know."

Mr. Stanley sighed and shook his head.  "You are so naughty."

She stood.  Wrinkling her own nose, she rubbed the tip against her husband's.  "And you love it."

A shiver traversed Mr. Stanley's body.  "I do," he said.

"I do too," Elaine purred.  She put her forefinger to the bridge of his nose and drew the digit along the length.  "The sooner you get back to work, the sooner you can be home again."

Mr. Stanley retrieved his shorts and trousers in a motion, fastening the buckle as his wife gave him an affectionate peck.  

"Guess I better go then," he said.

"See you soon," Elaine whispered.

"Love you."  Donald planted a kiss on his wife's cheek and headed out of the room.

"Love you too," Elaine called after him.  She kept her eyes fixed where he had departed until the sound of the front door closing reached our ears.  Only then did she venture to my hiding place.  Opening the closet door, she leaned upon the edge.  Her grin became a broad smile.  "That's all there is to it," she announced.

Quite certain that it could not be as simple as my mentor had made it appear, I emerged from my hiding place, stood, and straightened my housecoat.  My lips twitched as I tried to sort through my list of questions.  "So you enjoy that?" I asked at last.

Elaine removed her weight from the door and stood.  "Of course."

I nodded as I breathed.  "And you kept going until he, uh, you know?"

"Of course," Elaine said.  "So will you."

"Me?"

"You know you want to."

I swallowed, then tongued my lips.  "Does it taste bad?"

Elaine moved a little closer.  "I don't think so."

"What does it taste like?"

"You tell me."

As I saw where her mouth was bound, my own fell open, both in surprise and in acceptance.  Our lips embraced.  My mind churned.  Was I cheating on my husband?  Was this worse than cheating with a man?  Did I care?

"I feel weird," I whispered as soon as my lips were free.

"I know," Elaine said.  "I feel the same way about you."

I gulped.  That's not what I had meant, but after searching my feelings for mere moments, I realized Elaine was in essence correct- I did find her attractive, alluring, maybe more.  That was what felt so weird.  My head moved in a slow shake.  "I'm just not sure this is ok."

"What?"

"You.  Me," I said.  "Two women.  You know."

Elaine shrugged.  "Why wouldn't it be ok?"

"The Bible?"

"I thought you didn't put much stock in old books?"

My jaw mouth fell open.  "But it's the Bible!"

Elaine smiled and glanced toward the bookcase.  "For what it's worth, I have that book too.  It's really fairly vague on the matter, if you bother to read it.  The real prohibition is part of Leviticus, the same section that says we can't shave.  Or eat shrimp.  Or do just about anything besides go to church on Sunday.  As I read it, Jesus freed us from all that.  Not that I put much stock in that particular book anyway."

I shook my head.  "It still doesn't seem right."

"Why?"  Elaine asked.  "Because that's what you've been told all your life?"

I swallowed, then nodded.

"Too many people close their minds way before a priest closes their coffin.  If you live by other people's rules, you miss a lot.  This, for instance."

With that, Elaine pushed her mouth to mine a second time.  I relaxed my inhibitions and returned the tender caress, moving my lips over hers.  She became more aggressive, shooting her tongue into my mouth and then drawing it along the inside of my lower lip.  Without a thought my tongue rushed to slide over hers.

Then I tasted it- or more appropriately, him.  The flavor was so subtle, just a hint of a somewhat sour salinity, yet it was so unique I knew instantly what it must be.

I recoiled at once, putting my hand to my mouth.

"What is it?"  Elaine asked.  "Did I hurt you?"

"No," I muttered, looking into her anxious eyes.  "I tasted your husband."

She smiled.  "That was the idea.  You asked what it tasted like."

"I did," I affirmed.  "But I should have tasted my husband first, not yours!"

Elaine's eyes widened and she inhaled a barely audible gasp.  "I guess so," she admitted.  "I got caught up in the passion of the moment.  I wasn't thinking."

"I need to do some thinking now," I said, turning my eyes toward the door.  "I should go."

"Call me tomorrow," Elaine suggested.

I nodded and took the first of many zombie-like steps toward her door.

By the time I reached my parlor, I was sure I had committed some horrible sin, not only watching her wanton act, but then allowing her to kiss me afterward.

I made supper in a daze.  Excusing myself after eating, I headed upstairs for bed, unsure if I was truly tired or just did not want to face my husband.  Regardless, I was soon asleep.

Hours later, I awoke with a start.  I had just chased a possum throughout my mother's chicken coop until I had trapped it in one of the nests.  There the cornered creature had hissed at me.  But this was not a memory from my childhood.

"Possum," I mumbled to myself.  "What does that dream mean?" I turned on my bedside lamp.  Beside me, Russell groaned and rolled over.  I waited a handful of seconds until I was confident I had not woken him.  Only then did I reach for the book that Elaine had given me.

My fingers shook while I turned the pages.  "Possum," I whispered before reading the remainder of the text in silence.  These and other generally nocturnal or burrowing creatures represent reticence.  Those experiencing such a dream are typically being too timid in their affairs.

I gasped and closed the book.  Putting the tome back upon my nightstand, I found my eyes pulled to the heavens.  Can dreams really have such meanings?

My gaze dropped from my ceiling to my husband.  With a sigh and a nod, I slid across the mattress and kissed his neck in the same manner he had often kissed mine prior to our routine sexual sessions.  

Russell stirred.  I draped my arm over his torso as if I meant for him to lie still, smiling as he relaxed.  Pulling the bed linen over my head, I moved my ear to his sturdy chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart.

Above the sheets, I felt a pressure and realized a moment later it was one of his hands petting the back of my head.  I turned and faced my target, though I could see nothing.  Imagining his gaze was fixed on the bulge in the sheets, I crept my way down his abdomen inch by inch, kissing the taut and furred crease of his tummy.  My hands preceded my face to his boxers.  I grasped the waistline.  At once, he arched his form.  I inhaled, keeping the breath for a second as I wondered if he knew what I had in mind.

When I released my breath, it was through a smile.  I pushed his shorts only onto his thighs then withdrew my hands to pet his exposed manhood.  Stroking the semi-hard shaft I moved closer, inching my way down.  Somewhere near his navel, I felt certain he must know what I intended.  His reticence buoyed my confidence and I continued onward until I felt the softness of his crown again my nose.  

I inhaled more from surprise than want of oxygen.  His pungent scent filled my sinuses.  Closing my eyes, I took in a deeper breath.  That was when I knew there was no turning back.

* * * * * 

"Then what?"  Elaine asked.

I shrugged and reached for my coffee.  "I did it."

"I know that," she smirked.  "What was it like?"

I nodded and took a sip.  "It wasn't anywhere near as gross as I thought it would be."

Elaine grinned and bounced her eyebrows.  "So you liked it?"

I grinned back.  "It wasn't bad."

"What did he taste like?"

"Like you said," I related.  "It's just skin."

Elaine winked at me.  "You know that's not the taste I meant."

"Oh," I muttered, inhaling a sharp breath and holding it.  "I don't know.  I didn't go that far."

Elaine's smile vanished.  "Why?"

"Well," I began.  "I sucked him for quite a while.  I only got the knob in my mouth though, not like you, but he still seemed to enjoy it.  He did start to leak just a little, a weird salty sweet, but it wasn't the same as, well, as your husband's."

"And?"  Elaine pressed.

I sighed.  "Then he said, 'I'm ready.'  I figured he wanted sex and stopped.  Since he was already lying there, I climbed aboard and rode him."  A smile spread across my face.  "I can't remember the last time we did that."

"Did he last long?"

I shook my head.  "Less than a minute."

Elaine shook her head.  "No wonder you dream of boars." 

My head ceased shaking and fell to one side.  "What do you mean?"

My hostess steered her cold gray eyes into mine.  "When he said, 'I'm ready,' he was warning you he was close to ejaculating.  That was polite of him, but, trust me, he didn't want you to stop."

"Oh," I mused, examining my recollection of the event.  "How was I supposed to know?"

Elaine scowled.  "I showed you how to do it right."

"At least I did it!"

My neighbor smiled, then nodded.  "You're right.  At least you did it.  I'm sure you'll do better next time."

I was visited by a distant yet familiar anxiety, the sort I used to feel when my mother reprimanded me.  My head moved in a shallow nod.  

Elaine's smile turned into a grin.  "Did you tell him we kissed?"

My jaw fell.  "Of course not!"

Wrinkling her nose, she leaned across the table.  "Why not?"

"Because..."  I began, but after that first word my mouth just lay open, my tongue motionless within.

Elaine eased upward from her chair into a half-crouch.  "I could tell you liked it.  You should share all your joys with your husband, don't you think?"

I swallowed and shook my head.  "That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

My eyes wandered.  "Well, it's just, uh, I don't want to cheat on my husband."

Elaine smiled.  "I know.  I made the same promise- do only unto him, right?"

I smiled as well.  "Yes.  That one."

"But what does it really mean, to do only unto him?"

My brow formed a chevron.  "It means I'm not going to cheat on him!"

"You're absolutely right.  We're not going to cheat on our husbands."

"I'm glad that's settled," I said with a resolute nod.

"What did you think I was, a home wrecker?"

My head shuddered through a brisk shake.  "Of course not."

Elaine grinned.  "Does that mean I get to meet Russell?"

I smiled back.  "Not the way I met Donald."

"No?" Elaine giggled. "Well, I guess I'll have to eat something else.  Perhaps you and Russell could come over for dinner?"

I nodded.  "That would be nice."

* * * * * 

Russell stopped his fork halfway to his mouth.  "Next Monday?"  His eyes wandering toward the ceiling.  "That would be the ninth?"

"Yes," I replied.

My husband shrugged and brought his gaze back to me.  "Sounds good.  What's she making?"

It was my turn to shrug.  "I've no idea.  We didn't plan that far.  What about the children, should we get a sitter?"

"We'll just be next door."  Russell turned to Larry, our oldest.  "You're ten.  You can handle a few hours without a babysitter- right, son?"

The boy smiled and nodded even as he continued chewing.

I turned to our child.  "Do you think you'll be alright, Larry?"

"It's Lawrence!" 

That's when I knew my fate was sealed.

* * * * * 

Monday at dusk, Elaine opened her front door to reveal the brown and white polka-dot dress that hugged her figure without bothering to cover her knees or her shoulders.  My eyes fell to the simple yellow sheath dress that cloaked my form.

"Hi," Elaine said.  "Welcome."

Looking up, I found my neighbor sporting a wide grin.  I followed her eyes back to my gawking husband.  "Thank you," I replied, giving Russell a nudge with my elbow.

"Yes," he added with a start.  "Good evening.  It's a pleasure to finally see you."  His eyes widened and his throat flexed through a swallow.  "I mean meet you."

Elaine's grin turned into a full smile.  Her eyes seemed to pulse as they glimmered.  "I assure you," she said, "the pleasure is mutual."  Stepping to one side, she motioned with her hand.  "Please, do come in out of the cold."

Russell motioned and I preceded my husband into our neighbor's home.  In an instant, the warmth of Mrs. Stanley's parlor and the scent of roast beef surrounded me.  "Smells good," I said, turning back to our hostess.




Sweeter Than Roses



"Thank you," Elaine replied as she closed the exterior door.  "Most things that smell good taste even better, wouldn't you say?"  

My eyes bulged.  I tried to swallow, but found my throat suddenly dry.

"Definitely," Russell said.

Elaine looked to my husband.  "May I take your coats?"  Without looking, her hand found and opened the closet adjacent to the entry.  "Silly me," she said a second later.  "You didn't wear any.  Right this way then."  She sashayed away, leaving the closet ajar.

My husband's feet failed to move, but his eyes had no trouble following her swaying posterior.  With a sigh and shake of my head, I stepped into his line of sight and followed our hostess to the dining room.

Elaine motioned to the table.  "Please.  Seat yourself while I get the roast."

My attention shifted from Mrs. Stanley to her table and the trio of place settings.  I looked back to Elaine.  "Three?"

"Oh," she said.  "Silly me.  I should have thought of this before.  Donald won't be joining us.  Accountants always work overtime in December so that the big wigs can get their precious numbers sooner."

"You should have called," I said.  "We could have postponed."

Elaine raised her palm toward me and snapped it downward in that disdainful wave of hers.  "Rubbish.  No reason to let little things get in the way of fun, right?  Now, do have a seat."

I turned back to the table just in time to see my husband take the middle of the three seats.  Wondering if his selection was accident or design, I settled into the seat at his left.

* * * * * 

"Care for any dessert?" Elaine asked.

Russell shook his head and held his palms as shield before him.  "No, thank you.  I'm stuffed."

Our hostess stood and began to gather the plates.  "Why don't you two relax in the parlor while I tidy up?"

"Maybe we should go check on the children?"  I suggested.

Elaine leaned across the table to grasp my husband's plate.  "Maybe you should," she said, turning her eyes to me.  "I'm sure Russell and I could clean up."

I swallowed, looking to my husband's face just in time to see him pry his eyes from her dangling bodice.  "On second thought," I said, "I'm sure they're just fine."  I put my hand atop Russell's and waited until he turned to look my way.  "Let's go relax in the parlor.  You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen."

"Ok," he said, his eyes still making hesitant leaps toward Elaine.  

I had intended to let it go, but when he plopped down in the center of the sofa, I could keep my tongue no longer.  "You're making a fool of yourself!"  I whispered as I sat beside him.

"How?" he whispered back.

My eyes rolled as I sighed.  "You can't keep your eyes off of her."

He shrugged.  "I was just admiring the dress."

I gaped.  "Dress!  It's more like a swimsuit."

He smiled.  "Are you jealous?"

I sat upright.  "Certainly not!"

Russell opened his mouth to reply but his gaze shifted from me to the approaching footsteps.  

Wearing a smile on her face and an apron over her dress, Elaine rounded the corner.  The latter brought a grin to my face as well, covering her figure as it did, but I would soon discover its purpose was quite the opposite.

"What shall we do now?" she asked.

"I was thinking we shouldn't stay too late," I said.  "It is a weeknight."

Our hostess effected a subtle pout and shifted her gaze to Russell.  "We've hardly got acquainted.  It's not been half an hour and you did have your son telephone us earlier as a test."

My husband glanced to me, shrugged, and then looked back to Elaine.  "I suppose we could stay for a few."

"I know!"  Elaine turned and walked across the living room.  As she did, my jaw fell and a gasp escaped- the back of her dress had become tucked beneath the strings of her apron, revealing her upper thighs.  "I have something I bet you'd both like to see," she said over her shoulder.  

With that, she dropped to her knees, and opened the bureau beneath her television.  She fiddled amongst the books toward the top of the cabinet before shaking her head.  "I know it's here somewhere."  

She leaned forward onto all fours.  My jaw fell as the hem of her dress slid from her thighs to her pantyhose-clad bottom.  "Yes," Elaine said, reaching into the bureau.  "There it is!" 

Beside me, Russell gasped.

Elaine jerked her head from the cabinet over her shoulder.  "Is something wrong?"

I turned to see my husband's jaw as limp as mine.  His head vibrated from side to side.  

"I didn't think so," Elaine said with a grin.  She returned to digging in the cabinet, wiggling her exposed ass in the air with the beige pad of her hose peeking from between the cleft formed by her upper thighs and ass cheeks.

For the first time, it dawned on me that the apron was just an excuse to put her dress in a state of disarray.  I turned to my husband.  "Russell, I guess I'm still a little worried.  Would you be a doll and go check on the children?"

He snapped his head toward me.  For a second, maybe two, we but looked at one another.  Then his face turned a shade closer to pink.  "Would you rather just go home?"

I smiled at his offer.  "Not yet.  I'm just a little nervous about a few things.  I hope you understand."

He nodded.  "I think I do."  With that he stood. 

I rose as well, placing my hand upon his upper arm.  "Hurry back."

Russell leaned and gave me a peck on the cheek.  "I will."

"Whew!"  Elaine said the instant he was out the door.  "That was close."

My hands found my hips.  "It still is!"

To my surprise, she smiled and nodded.  "Don't pretend you didn't ask him to leave so I could convince you to let me fuck him."

I gasped through my gaping mouth.  "What?"

She took a step forward and petted my upper arm much as I had just petted my husband's.  "It's ok.  It's what we all want."

My brow dropped.  I took a step backward.  "What makes you think you can speak for everyone?"

Elaine's hands shot behind her back.  "Would you please go hang my apron in the closet?"

"The closet?"

She flipped the garment over her head and then held it toward me.  "The closet," she said, glancing toward the open door near the entry.

With a sigh, I snatched the apron and stalked the half-dozen steps to the closet and opened the door.  I parted the wall of clothes seeking a hanger, but found a face instead.

With a gasp, I dropped the apron.  In the same instant, my hand leapt to my chest and my feet propelled me backward into Elaine's waiting arms.

Her hands massaged my flank.  "Relax," she whispered in my ear.  "It's just Donald."

Looking into her husband's eyes with my jaw hanging, I found I could but nod.

Elaine steadied me, then took the two steps to the closet.  Leaning inside, she kissed her husband.  "I love you."

"I love you too, Honey."

She stood and rearranged the hanging clothes, then kicked the apron into the closet.  "Ok," she said, turning back to me.  "That takes care of what Donald and I want.  I think it's pretty clear what Russell wants.  What about you?"

Gasping through my still gaping mouth, I turned my eyes to her.  "I thought you said we weren't going to cheat on our husbands!"

Elaine's mouth curved into something too large to be a grin and too wicked to be a smile.  "If we have their blessing, then it's not cheating, is it?"

My eyes darted to the closet.  I recalled when I had been in Donald's place, watching from behind the clothes.  To my surprise, I felt my loins clench as the images replayed within my psyche.  My attention shifted downward to the warming sensation that followed.  Inside my stomach, something was tying itself in knots.  A motion caught my attention and my eyes darted to where my thumb turned circles in the air just inches from my taut nipple.

"I guess not,"  I said, looking to Elaine.  "If that's what they want."

"You know it is."

I nodded.  "What do you have in mind?" 

Her smile ceased to be wicked as it widened.  "Help me move the coffee table."

* * * * * 

Five minutes later Russell again sat on the Stanley's sofa, flanked by Elaine and I, with a photo album resting across his thighs.  

"And here's a shot of Donald and I on the beach near Stratford just last summer."  For emphasis, Elaine pointed, putting the tip of her index finger next to her bosom in the black and white image.  With a smile, she turned to Russell.  "Nice view, huh?"

My husband swallowed, then nodded.

Elaine traced the line of the shore in the picture.  "When most people think of Connecticut, they don't think of sexy bitches."

Russell snapped his eyes from the album to our hostess.  "What?"

Elaine looked to my husband and smiled.  "I said most people don't think of Connecticut as having sunny beaches."   

"Oh," he said with a shallow nod.

Mrs. Stanley turned her attention back to the album, flipping to the following page and yet more pictures of the couple on the waterfront.  "I guess you can tell from all the pictures that Donald and I love the coast.  We sure had some good fucks there."

Russell's body tensed as he gasped.  "Excuse me?"

I leaned in, looking at his pallid continence.  "She said she and her husband had some good fun on beach."

"What did you think I said?" Elaine asked.

My husband's head shuddered in a brisk shake so brisk his ear vibrated.  "Oh," he muttered.  "Nothing."

Elaine put her finger back to the photo album, the tip finding the union of her thighs in one of the pictures.  "Would you like to go there sometime?"

I barely suppressed a snicker when Russell's eyes drifted to her loins.  "There?" he asked.

"Connecticut?" she said.

"Oh," he said, pulling his focus back to the book.  "Yes.  Looks nice.  Connecticut, I mean."

"I thought you'd like it."  Elaine turned another page in the album, sliding her palm across the pages just above where I knew my husband's cock must be.  Imagining the probable state of his member, I found my own loins pulsing their want.

Our hostess turned her eyes to me, gave a quick wink, then looked back to Russell.  "Oh," she began, "you do look stuffed.  And I'm afraid it's all my fault, isn't it?

I tensed as I recognized my cue.  With a gulp I leaned across and whispered to Elaine.  "I'd like to see you for a moment, privately."

"You'd like to see my privates?"  She smiled and jumped to her feet.  "You know all you have to do is ask!"  Her fingers flew to the buttons her dress.

She got three of these undone before Russell regained his senses and stood, sending the photo album to the floor.  Looking to me, he extended his hand.  "We should go."

Elaine and I gaped in the same instant and then said the same word.  "Go?"

Russell looked to Elaine.  "It's getting late.  I think we'd better go.  The kids, you know, Barb does get worried."

For a half-second, Elaine's eyes wandered, then a subtle grin formed on her face.  She looked back to my husband.  "Why don't you ask Mrs. Kramer what she wants?"

To his credit, my husband shook his head.  "No, I don't think..."

I took a step, interposing myself between them.  "I'm pretty sure about what you want," I told him.  "Are you sure about what I want?"

Russell's eyes bulged.  His mouth remained open as if he might finish his sentence.

With a wry grin, I swept my palm upward into something that bulged even more than his eyes.   

The feel of my hand upon his member snapped my husband from his stupor.  He leapt backward as if I had burned him.  His brows dropped low over his eyes.  "Barbara?"

"You said you'd like to go," I whispered, "but from the feel of your cock, I think you'd really like to come instead."

Elaine appeared beside me and rested her hand upon my shoulder.  "Yes," she hissed, "that's really what we all want, isn't it?"

My husband's eyes darted back and forth between Elaine and I.  "Is this some sick joke?"

"Prudes might think it sick," said Elaine, "but it's definitely not a joke."

"Yes," I added.  "It's no joke."  

Turning to Elaine, I extended my parted lips toward hers.  She readily accepted my wanton invitation.  An instant later, I felt her arms encircle me, pulling me close.  Our bodies and mouths writhed against one another.  Her fingers found the buttons of my dress and began to unfasten them.  I replied in kind.  The power of her allure allowed me to forget for several seconds that we had an audience.

Elaine slid her mouth from mine and turned toward Russell.  "I want you both to stay," she whispered.  As if to emphasize the point she kicked first one shoe, then the other, across her parlor.

I steered my eyes to my husband's vacant stare.  "I know that's what Mr. Stanley wants too.  But if you really want to leave, we can."   Without waiting for a reply, I turned my eyes back to Elaine and began to slide her dress from her body.

Mrs. Stanley looked to Russell.  "Why don't you watch from the couch," she suggested.  "We'll be with you in a moment."

"Yeah," I muttered, moving my lips again toward hers.  "In a moment."  

We kissed.  We caressed.  We groped.  Amidst all this, four hands shed our dresses, then our bras.

I stepped away from Elaine with a smile on my face, but it vanished the instant I beheld her exposed form.  As if my outdated garters and stockings were not enough compared to her seamless tights, the creamy sheen of her complexion continued from her face onto her shoulders and bosom without a hint of a line, wrinkle, or blemish.  Her breasts, though not so large as I had imagined them to be, stood out with a perkiness that three children and ten years had taken from mine.  My attention continued down over her taut tummy and then outward toward her hips.

There, at the edge of her waist, I found the imperfection my roaming eyes sought, a jagged white scar the size of my thumb standing out amid the uniform hue of her taut tummy.  My gaze lingered for a second before jumping to her face.

She swallowed.  All of a sudden, her eyes seemed smaller.  "Appendicitis," she said.

"What?"

"The scar."

"What scar?"

Elaine shook her head.  "You and I, we're beyond lies."

I nodded.  "You're beautiful."

She nodded back.  "I know.  So are you."

As if arranged, we turned our faces to the couch and my Russell.  I found his wide eyes glued to me.  A smile blossomed across my face.  Our gazes met.  A moment later, the corners of his mouth curled upward.

"You're overdressed for this occasion," Elaine said.  With a glance my way, she knelt and began to untie my husband's left shoe.  Turning my still beaming face back to Russell, I dropped to my knees and reached for his other foot.  

One minute, two oxfords, a pair of socks, and a belt later we stood, each pulling on one of the legs of my husband's trousers.

"Oh," Elaine hissed as Russell's pants slid from his form, revealing his boxers and the bulge therein.  "Your husband has a nice cock.  All big and hard and ready for us."  Dropping her pant leg, she slithered forward to straddle his thigh.  Her tongue played across her lips as she looked over her shoulder to me.  "May I?"

My eyes darted to Russell.  His brows were high, his eyes on me.  The corners of his mouth hinted at a smile.

"Me first," I said.

"Of course," Elaine whispered.  "In that case, you're overdressed too."

I nodded my agreement and moved my shaking fingers toward my garter belt. 

"No," Elaine said, sidling over my husband's shins.  "Let me help you off with those."  She turned her eyes upward as she reached for my snaps.  "On second thought, why don't you get him while I get you?"

Again I nodded.  Half turning, I looked to my husband.  He had two buttons of his shirt undone and his fingers fumbled at the third.  The grin on his face reminded me so much of the one my son exhibited when he thought he might get a cookie before dinner.  Or maybe two cookies.

I reached for my husband's shorts, barely grasping the fabric before he arched his back to assist me.  My throat flexed in a dry swallow as the garment slid away to reveal every inch of his engorged masculinity.

Stopping with his shorts on his thighs, I inhaled a breath.  My chest swelled with my excitement as my eyes roamed him, all the way from the seam of his sacks to the shiny pink of his mushroom cap.  For several seconds I could but stare at the tangible evidence of his arousal.

The warm wetness of Elaine's lips on my exposed buttock snapped me from my stupor.  I tensed from the shock of it, then spun.  Looking down, I found her kneeling before me amid my undergarments.  

For a moment, her eyes and her smile both vied to be widest, then her hands rushed about to my recently-kissed ass.  Her fingers gripped my cheeks.  She pulled with her hands as her nose led her face into my sex.  

I gasped from the shock of her advance.  My loins and thighs clenched as if seeking to withdraw, but she only pushed her face into me harder.  Her audible intake of air caused me to stiffen as I held my own breath, awaiting her response.   

With her shining gray eyes turned upward, Elaine withdrew.  "God," she hissed.  "You are so ready.  Climb aboard."

I started to turn and had lifted my right foot when her hands found my hips.   

"No," Elaine said when I looked down.  "Face me."

Still frozen in mid-motion, I gave Russell a glance.  He smiled, then shrugged.  I grinned in reply and turned my back to him. 

Elaine gave me a wink before reaching for my husband's rampant cock and steering it upward.  With a smile, I straddled him and wiggled myself onto his rubbery crown until I felt him snuggle into my entry.   

She was right, I was more than ready, but his girth still elicited a groan from me as I settled onto his length.  I closed my eyes for a moment and treasured the heat of him there in my still-stretched passage.  My exhale was a sigh of pure satisfaction.

Again Elaine interrupted my trance, pressing upon the softness of my tummy with her palm.  "Lean back," she insisted as I looked down.  "I can't reach you."

With a gasp I felt backward onto Russell's firm chest.  Before I could begin to fathom what she meant, I felt it.  Her mouth.  On me.  Down there.

Her spread tongue started at my entry before running upward over my parted folds.  She lingered at my apex, pushing her extended appendage on to that blessed knot of flesh I did not yet realize had a name- pressing, wiggling, warming.

I gasped.  My body shuddered.  My hands flew downward to Russell's hips, but I still felt myself sliding to one side as the second wave of trembles traversed my form.

Between my elbow and flank, I felt my husband's hands slide, first to one side, then the other.  Holding me in place with his forearms, he pushed his hands onward until his massive palms cradled my bosom.  

Below, Elaine continued to lave the upper reaches of my nether lips.  My hips began to move in a slow, deliberate rhythm- one Russell matched at once, first rubbing, then grinding his embedded member against the walls of my passage.

"Yes!" I gasped.  My head fell back onto my husband's shoulder.  My hands leapt from my thighs to Elaine's head where I began to run my fingers through the softness of her tresses.   First I but combed her hair, but as she increased the force of her licking, my fingers began to writhe within her locks, grasping and pulling and urging her onward.

Beneath her tongue, my husband's thrust became slower, yet harder.  His hands slid upward from my bosom to my shoulders where he pulled, trying to make each thrust deeper than the last.  I could feel his shaft rutting within me, pressing and bending.  And growing.

A grunt from my husband accompanied the start of each stroke, followed by a hiss when he began to withdraw.  Soon, I began to issue a sound of my own, half-chirp and half-moan, in time with his.  I moved my hips in concert, though not for the same purpose- instead of depth, I sought to force him against the ceiling of my passage, toward Elaine's still-laboring tongue.




Sweeter Than Roses



Somewhere between her tongue and his cock, it started, something similar to an itching.  Squirming harder, and louder, I tried to scratch it, and succeeded beyond anything I could have imagined.  The itching turned to a tingling which turned to a quivering that spread within my loins, and beyond.  My thighs began to shudder in time with the spasms.  My head fell back and my mouth fell open.  My chirping became something much closer to a whimper.

And then Elaine's tongue was gone.  "No, Barb," she said in a harsh whisper.  "No."

Eyelids flew wide over my bulging eyes.  A tear slipped out of one corner.  I lifted my head and looked down at Elaine.  Though my mouth remained open, I could not think to utter anything beyond a single syllable.  "No?"

She gave me a nod and a sympathetic grin.  "I know, but it wasn't going to happen, he's not going to last that long.  Get ready.  When I say, jump off."

My brows dropped even as my husband bounced my body through another stroke.  "What?"

"When I say..." With a gasp, Elaine turned her eyes downward.  "Oh!  Now!  Off.  Off.  Get off!"

For a half-second my mind raced, then her meaning took hold and I bounced upward onto my husband's stomach.

Below, Elaine grasped his glistening, bulging shaft with both hands and began pumping.  Behind me, Russell emitted a long low groan.  As if in slow-motion, the distended opening in his enraged crown parted farther.  A split-second later a milky-white stream shot from within. My eyes followed the sailing stream skyward where it seemed to hover, before falling back to land upon my abdomen.

I looked downward again just into time to glimpse Elaine's wicked grin as she aimed his cock upward, toward me.  A gasp emerged from my parted lips in the same moment the next stream emerged from my husband's cock.  My eyes followed the flying cord until it landed on the sheen of sweat that covered my tummy, drawing a line all the way from my navel to my left nipple.

Another smaller spurt followed, and another, until the final offerings but dribbled out and slid down his length toward Elaine's pumping fist.   

She slid her clasped hands up his shaft, gathering his seed as she did so.   With a hiss and a smile, she rubbed her palms together, then cupped her hands and closed her eyes.  Still wearing the smile, her face descended until her nose disappeared behind her fingers.  Her chest swelled with her first breath.  Just beyond the edge of her fingers, her lips curled upward even more.

Elaine's eyelids popped upward with her face.  She steered her glistening orbs into mine.  "Try it," she insisted in a whisper before her face again disappeared into her cupped palms.

I looked down to where my husband's seed stretched across my belly.  Sometime, I could not recall when, his hands had made their way back to my breasts where the tips of his fingers now turned slow circles about my enraged nipples.  My throat flexed in a dry swallow.  I sent my hands downward and with my fingers scooped his offering upward across my pliant paunch to my even softer bosom.

Like Elaine, I closed my eyes before bringing my cupped palms and the subtle sickly-sweet scent therein to my nose.  A deep breath later and I too was smiling.  

Three breaths later, I felt a weight upon my abdomen.  Dropping my hands, I looked down to see Elaine slide up my body, her sweat-slickened skin pressing against mine, her body warming me in more ways than one.

Beneath me, my husband issued a subtle groan.  I turned my eyes over my shoulder, yet could do no more than glimpse his form.  For a moment, I wondered if the weight of us both might be a burden, but in that moment his hands spread over my breasts, massaging my tender flesh.  He issued another subtler groan and all thoughts that he might be in discomfort faded.  I looked back to Elaine.

Putting her nose where Russell's finger worked his semen over my bosom, she inhaled.  "Nice, huh?" she whispered.

"Yes," I agreed with a nod.

She slithered upward and rubbed her cheeks upon mine.  I smelled it at once, the unmistakable scent of my husband on her face.  Her lips came to mine, bringing a hint of him with her kiss.

"Of course," she whispered as our lips parted, "there's one thing better than smelling."  With that, she slid back down my body until she again rested between my husband's spread thighs.

Again her steely orbs locked on mine.  She grasped Russell's cock at the back and gave it a good squeeze.  His softening member bulged.  His fingers bit into the flesh of my bosom. 

Elaine's spread tongue emerged from her still smiling lips.  Looking straight at me, she ran her appendage the length of his shaft before turning circles about his swollen crown.

My husband whimpered.  His hips bounced upward and stayed there, an invitation Elaine accepted at once, sliding her still-curved lips over his head and beyond.  As she had done with Donald, she began to draw upon him with an audible vigor, her cheeks flexing in and out in time with the gliding of her lips over his shaft.

Less than a minute later, her lips slid off with a pop.  His shaft snapped away, smacking his abdomen.  Elaine's nose crinkled.  Her eyes sparkled.  

Her glistening pink tongue roamed my husband's cock, much like a cat bathing its paw.  From the closet came a long, low, moan.  My eyes leapt to where Mr. Stanley hid.  I had no doubt what had just happened behind the hanging coats.

"What was that?" Russell asked from beneath and behind me.

I whipped my head over my shoulder, the one away from the closet.  "Sounded like the heater coming on," I suggested.

My husband extended his head to the side just enough so I could see his dropped brow.  "I don't think so.  Sounded more like..."  Russell's brow leapt upward the orbs beneath them bulged as his attention shifted downward.

Following his gaze upward, I found Elaine's fist wrapped about my husband's member, squeezing him so hard that his normally pink crown favored a shade of purple.  "Oh, God," she gasped.  "Your husband has a nice cock.  Nice and hard."  She turned her eyes from Russell to me.  "And it's my turn."

I nodded my consent.

She jerked her head to one side.  "Off."

I rolled from atop my husband and looked back to see Elaine slide upward, dragging one of her breasts along the furry trough of his tummy.  Onward she slid, until her face hovered over his.  She twitched her hips, grinding herself onto his flattened member.   

"You ready to fuck me?" she hissed.

Russell's head bobbed his exuberance.  "Sure," he managed to gasp.

"Good," Elaine whispered.  She extended her tongue, teasing the tip of his nose.  "But you just left your wife high and anything but dry.  You'll need to make amends."

His eyes widened.  "I do?"

"Sure," she said.  "It's easy though.  You know how to lick an ice cream cone, right?"

"Sure."

"Ok."  Elaine put her palms to his shoulders and pushed herself upright, then rolled off to the other side.  "Lie down.  Put your head on the arm."

With his expression blank, Russell looked to me.

I smiled, a signal of both my approval and my pleasure that he had sought it.

My husband nodded once, then rotated to lie prone across the Stanleys' sofa.  Elaine sprang to straddle his midsection.  Rubbing her flexing hands over the base of his ribs, she smiled and turned those eyes down onto my husband's face.  

"Now," she began, leaning forward until she lay prone across him. "You lick your wife just like she was ice cream.  All you need to do is keep licking, nice broad strokes, just like this."  Twisting her head, she licked twice the breadth of my husband's lips before settling her mouth over his.  

Russell's hands sprang from the couch to hover in the air.  As if she could see his fingers fluttering beside her flank, Elaine's hand shot upward in an arc, directing his hand to her hip, holding it there for a second before sliding her own hand back to the edges of his muscled chest.

My husband's broad hands began to roam her sleek figure while their lips continued to roam one another.  My mouth formed a pout.  In my heart, I felt it, that heavy, hollow twinge of pain that is jealousy.  I gave a glance to the parted door of the closet and wondered if she intended to share her husband too, or if she just meant for me to share mine.

Movement caught my attention and I looked back to see Elaine sit up.  "All you do is lick," she said, still staring at Russell.  "She'll do the rest."  With that, she turned her eyes to me.  "Climb aboard."

My eyebrows bounced upward.  I looked to Russell, then back to Elaine. "What?"

She snickered through a grin.  "Sit on his face."

My eyes bulged, but no other part of me moved.

Elaine tilted her head to one side.  "Nothing's better than a tongue down there.  What are you waiting for?"

With a nod and a swallow, I turned my attention to my prone husband.  The subtle curve of his lips and the gleam in his eye answered my question in the same manner my smile had earlier answered his.  I took a step forward and lifted my leg over his face.  He lifted his arms and I planted my knees on either side of his torso, then settled backward.

At once, I felt him kiss the upper reaches of my thigh.  A moment later, I felt the warm wetness of his tongue on my wanting nether lips.  My sex clenched its approval.  My eyes closed and my head fell backward as I put a little more of my weight onto him.

Russell's hands shot upward, finding the edge of my ribs.  His fingers kneaded my flesh there as I began to squirm.  I rubbed myself back and forth across his tongue, at first simply savoring the still-novel sensation of being licked.  Soon, however, I brought that most sensitive portion of my sex across his tongue.  The tingling that had before tormented me returned over the course of but several licks.  I began to press myself onto him, seeking the promise of the sensation while at the same time hoping I was not hurting my beloved.

Within minutes, the bliss of it all overwhelmed my notions of altruism.  Leaning, I put my weight onto his face and ground myself onto him in a desperate attempt to sate the pulsing heat that had taken over my loins.  My breaths came in short spurts, each accompanied by a whimper.

The feel of hands upon my shoulder stirred me from my reverie.  I snapped my eyes open to find Elaine's face inches from mine.  All of her shined, from her eyes to her skin to the bouncing black tresses that framed her face.

"Oh, God," she hissed, her features twisting as she spoke, "I love your husband's cock in me.  Thank you."  Not waiting for a reply, her lips surged onto mine.  My hands leapt from my body to hers.  Again groping lips and groping fingers roamed in unplanned, yet perfect, unison.

She slid her lips from my mouth and across my cheek to my ear.  "And don't worry.  I'm not going to let him have his this time.  Not until you get yours."

Pushing back upon my shoulders, she leaned ever further forward and brought her lips to my neck where she more suckled than kissed.  Downward her lips went, leaving rough kisses in their wake until she reached the apex of my breast.  There, instead of suckling, she bit me, not hard, but just enough to start a spark in my bosom that shot straight to my loins, igniting the embers smoldering there.

Tremors shot through the checks of my ass, tightening the muscles there before doing the same to my thighs and abdomen.  A half-second later it was my calves and torso.  Then my neck warmed and my toes curled.  Like a rubber band, the force recoiled, tracing its way back through my form, all the way to where the heat in my quivering loins found its way out of my body in the form of a warm wetness.

My eyes flew open.  I waited for some sign of disgust from my husband, but he issued not a sound.  His tongue continued to massage me with long, firm strokes.  A broad smile spread across my face and I turned my wide eyes downward to find Elaine looking back at me.  Extending her tongue, she left a warm wet trail across my breasts until her mouth found my other nipple.  Again, she brought her teeth to bear and again the tingling jolt surged through my form, igniting a series of spasms even more powerful than the first.

The pattern continued, peaking in intensity at my fourth climax, then receding over another handful.  By the end, Elaine had worked her way back to my lips, kissing me as the last throes shook their way from my form.

"Come," she whispered as our lips parted.  "Taste what your husband and I have done."

She leaned away and sidled backward onto the arm of the sofa, leaving Russell's glistening, engorged member in her wake.  My eyes leapt from his shaft to her face.

"Do it," she insisted in a whisper.

I nodded my agreement and leaned, bringing my nose within an inch of his crown.  The acrid scent of her sex rushed into my nostrils.  My own sex quivered, both in excitement and from the suddenly unusual sensation of not being licked.

Smiling, I understood it was my turn to do the licking.  Putting my eyes back to Elaine, I extended my tongue and laved her flavor from him.  

She sprang forward until her steely eyes were almost a blur.  "No," she said, grasping his shaft by the base and lifting the crown from his stomach. "I've been keeping him ready for you.  And I do mean ready.  Suck him."

With my eyes locked on hers, I parted my lips and slipped them over his crown and beyond.  Her flavor permeated my mouth, but by the time I withdrew my lips and ran my tongue across my husband's head, his flavor had joined hers.

"That’s right," she said, squeezing him.  The head of my husband's cock swelled.  Its ridges slid over my tongue.  "Suck him hard.  Let him know you want it."  Maintaining her grip, she began to slide her fist back and forth in short strokes just beyond my nose.  

My chest surged with my next breath.  She was right, I did want it.  I plowed my lips over him, doing my best to emulate my tutor.  She was also right about him being ready.  Not a dozen strokes had my mouth taken over him before a pulse surged the length of his shaft, culminating in the first geyser.  His offering coated my tongue, obliterating her tart taste with his pungent one.  Stunned by the cloying flavor, I stopped sucking and simply held him with my lips as he throbbed again. 

"Look at me," Elaine whispered.  

I steered my eyes the few inches over her still-pumping hand and into her great gray orbs.  

"That's it," she continued in the same soft tone.  "You can do it.  Hold it all."

For another half-dozen spurts, I did just that, until my checks puffed wide with my husband's bounty.   Unsure what I was meant to do next, I did nothing.

Amid the dangling curls of Elaine's raven-colored tresses, her fist gave my husband's still-engorged cock one final squeeze. He swelled- the edges of his crown pressed into my taste buds.  

"Ok," she said.  "Keep your lips tight and slide them off."

Following her instructions, I withdrew until my husband's cock flopped against his belly with a single milky white tendril stretching to my closed lips.

With her tongue tucked in the corner of her mouth Elaine's eyes roamed my face.  "Go ahead," she whispered.  "Swallow it."

I barely had time to do so before she pounced.  The force of her assault sent us both tumbling from the couch.  Pinning me between the hard of her floor and the soft of her body, she brought her mouth to mine where we shared the subtle tang of his sour salinity.

Our lips separated the better part of a minute later, but not by much.  She kept her mouth just beyond mine where her every breath wafted under my nose carrying hints of him, and her.

"There'll be no more dreams of boars for you," she whispered, dragging her lips across mine.  I thought she would kiss me, but instead she withdrew, her lips pulling at mine like a magnet until we both sat upright.   

Elaine cut her eyes toward the sofa.  Our faces followed and we found Russell leaning back, his hands locked behind his head and his gaze locked upon us.

I turned my attention to the arm of her sofa and the dark stain on the fabric.  As if reaching for a flame, I extended my fingers and touched the damp spot, then brought my fingertips to my nose.  My mouth and eyes widened in unison.  "That's me!" I gasped, turning to my hostess.  "Oh, look what I've done to your sofa!"

Elaine only giggled.  "Don't you mean smell what I've done?"

I issued a sheepish nod.

Her giggle turned to an outright laugh.  "Now you know why we don't have new furniture."   

"We," I whispered, casting my eyes toward the closet.  For a moment, I felt a tinge of pity for the man hidden there, imagining him a prisoner- but then I recalled the thrill of my own time in another closet and all trace of sympathy evaporated.

"Yes," Elaine said, regaining my attention.  "We."  She turned her eyes upward to my husband.  "I don't suppose you'd rather play cards next week?"

Russell's brow dropped into a chevron.  "Cards?"

"Canasta maybe?  I hear that's a good four player game."

My husband nodded.  I could see the outline on his cheek where his tongue roamed inside his mouth.  Through his parted lips he inhaled a single large breath, one which swelled his furred chest.  "Four players," he mused during his exhale.  He cut his eyes to me.  "You want a four player game?"

I smiled.  "Yes.  But not cards."

In silence, we dressed, trading occasional glances.  A trio of surreal minutes later, we stood in the Stanley's entryway.  Looking into the coat of the closet, I thought of Donald, how he could have Elaine, and still want me.  My sex again stirred with warmth.  

"Next week," Elaine whispered into my ear.  "They're both going to fuck you in the ass."  She pulled away and looked me in the eye.  "Don't you dare give your little butt cherry away before then."

My tender rings clenched their anticipation.  I wondered which one would fuck me first, but soon decided it didn't really matter- they were our husbands now, both of them.  Wearing a broad smile, I nodded my agreement.  "Do we have to wait until next week?"

Elaine smiled and looked to Russell.  "What about you?  Do you want to wait until next week?"

My husband shrugged.  "We're not doing anything tomorrow."

I snickered through my smile.  "Let's make it Wednesday."

A minute and a round of goodbyes later, Russell and I stood amid the snow of the Stanleys' lawn and watched Elaine close the door.  My eyes cut upward to my husband, landing upon his lips.  Lips from which escaped a single surge of frost.  Lips on the way to mine.

Russell kept his face near mine as our kiss ended.  "I never dreamed you could be so open-minded."

I smiled and blew frost of my own across his face.  "Surprised you, did I?"

"Yes," he said. "I thought you'd be insanely jealous of me even looking at another woman."

"What about you?" I whispered.  My brows bounced upward.  "Are you going to be jealous when I'm fucking her husband?"

The ends of Russell's mouth curved upward.  "I'm getting hard just thinking about it."

My eyes widened.  "You're getting hard?"

He nodded.

"Again?"

He nodded again, then smiled.

My hand rushed upward to his loins, confirming his words to be true.  "Well," I began, my lips curving to match his.  "Let's don't waste it."

* * * * * 

That was but ten days ago.  It seems so much longer.  I close my eyes and breathe.  Do I merely imagine the scent of semen or does some still linger?  I bring my fingers to my face and smile as I find fragrant remnants clinging to my lips and cheeks.  My fingers rush to my nose.  My mind drifts back as I try to remember whose seed lingers upon my face.

Although the book of dreams does not distinguish between filly and stallion, I doubt not my dark horse's gender- or her name.  She has taught me so much, yet I know this is just the beginning.




Sweeter Than Roses



The phone rings.  I rush downstairs to answer.  "Hello?" I say, though I know in my heart what soul must be at the other end of the line.

"I want you," Elaine says.

"I'll be right over," I assure her.  "What are we going to do?"

"Whatever I want."

"Ok," I start to reply, but the click in my earpiece indicates my neighbor is already waiting.  

I turn.  My eyes land upon the dozen red roses that always grace my kitchen table.  Stooping, I close my eyes and inhale, then smile.  The flowers are pleasant enough, but I'll soon be smelling something much sweeter.  With that thought, I hurry upstairs to dress. Though I'm unsure what Elaine wants, I am sure whatever it is, I want it too.


THE END

*

Sweeter Than Roses
Copyright 2004 by Penelope Street
Posted with permission at Literotica.com
All other rights reserved.

Special thanks to Selena, Jessica, and Rob for their editing assistance.

This is a work of fiction.  To the best of the author's knowledge, none of the events depicted ever occurred.  All of the persons portrayed are fictional characters.  Their views, opinions, and experiences are invented as well and are not meant to promote anyone's personal beliefs or agenda.