Readers: This is a version of a story written for an erotic pen-pal more than a decade ago... before I realized [Lit] existed. It was originally written in 2nd Person voice (because it was intended for her... and just her). Maybe it works in this voicing as well.
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HER TENNIS COACH
I can tell my wife is in the house the instant I open the door. There are only a few lamps on and a lit candle adorns the coffee table. Her purse and satchel sit in their regular place. The muffled sound of soft jazz drifts down the staircase.
The first thing that catches my eye is today's mail strewn haphazardly across the floor. It's like it's been dropped. Or kicked. Or dropped and then kicked.
The lazy trail of bills, direct-mail pieces and some kind of magazine comes to an end just this side of one of her tall-heeled shoes. The shoe is turned on its side with the open toe pointed toward me, kind of like it's drunk. Its partner is a few feet away, also drunk, at an opposite angle.
At the base of the stairs -- in a small pile of expensive designer silk -- is the blouse and camisole my wife had on this morning when I last kissed her and, up a couple of steps, her bra.
This bra is different than ones she usually wears; it's lacy and green... not one of her usual textures or colors. It seems familiar but I can't remember the last time I saw her in it.
I can't help but wonder what surprise might await me. My cock begins to wonder as well.
Intrigued, I start up the stairs. On the landing I discover the panties that match the bra.
They're also lacy and green, low-waisted with a high-cut leg. They're lying askew and nearly inside out, not like they were laid out as a prize in some sexual scavenger hunt. They're definitely different than the more brief-style, full-coverage panties my wife wears on the regular. My cock stirs a little. Maybe more than a little...
Near the top of the stairs I begin to hear more than just the soft jazz. There's a sound of a soft rhythmic motion coming out of our bedroom to the left. The door is ajar a few inches and, after a few creeping steps toward it, I'm able to get just the right angle so I can peek at what's behind.
The rhythmic motion I hear is her. She's on her knees, moving determinedly up and down... on the cock... of a man... lying in our bed.
I can tell right away that he's taller than I am. His tanned legs are bent at the knees and he's using his feet and legs to push into my wife's pussy with her every downstroke. I can't see his arms or his hands; I assume they're massaging her gorgeous tits or rubbing her clit. Or maybe both.
I can also tell that his cock is bigger than mine, or at least longer. The distance she travels on her upstroke seems languorous and yet he stays solidly within her love hole. He probably doesn't have the dad bod paunch of a stomach that I've been carrying around the last few years either... the main reason this position hasn't worked that well for she and I of late.
My wife, even from the back, is ravishing. Her soft brown hair is falling perfectly down her back and bouncing a bit in rhythm with her movements. Her smooth and sculpted arms are stretched forward and down, probably pushing against his chest for leverage. Her back muscles ripple at her shoulders and the sexy lines of her ribs trace downward and inward to meet her hips, now roiling greedily on top of him. Her waist, as I love to tell her, is beautifully slim and perfectly flat at the front.
Next is her peach-perfect ass. It's also flexing in rhythm with her movements and I can guess that she's squeezing her cunt muscles as she moves downward with him inside her pussy. It's always been one of my favorite tricks she plays on me when we're fucking.
Another clue to his size is the trail of white, creamy grool that's coating and sliding down his dick when my wife's pussy glides up to its apex. There's also a slight ring of it collected around the edge of her pussy where it stretches tightly and surrounds his cock.
As I watch, her breath begins to race and her pace begins to quicken. He's doing his best to keep matching her movements but he soon gives up and stretches his legs straight out in front. He realizes she's in charge at the moment.
His hands move from wherever they were to her hips, maybe because he senses that she's tiring out a bit.
I hear my wife's sexy moans build into a higher-pitched whimper... always a sign of her climax coming in for a landing.
And then, finally, she pauses at the bottom of a downstroke and her taut calves begin to shudder on each side of his hips. Her toes curl and her head goes still and her shoulders arch downward ever so slightly once... twice... three times.
There's a pause for a beat or three, and then she exhales with a throaty groan and she collapses down onto his chest. Her ass quivers a few times as her orgasm continues to throb and then begins to wane.
His arms are now around her back and he's softly stroking her hair. She stirs to put her face against his and I hear a soft and lingering kiss from her incredible lips. Then another. And another.
And I hear my wife softly whisper: "Now it's your turn."
In a flash he tightens his arms around her and does a half-sit, half-roll until she is on her back and he's above her.
"Oooh, that was fun!," she coos up at him.
He rocks back on his knees and I see my wife reach forward, undoubtedly to fondle his cock to keep him ready for her once again.
I see her right hand move to her mouth and I know what she's about to do. She slathers her tongue over her palm and her fingers and she uses her saliva on his dick as an intimate lubricant.
It works, and his head falls backwards a little... just like mine has done on previous... numerous... similar occasions.
I hear him whisper "Do you want me to lick you?"
My wife's low and throaty whisper back is electrifying: "No... I want you to fuck me. Just. Fuck. Me..."
His dick must be stiff enough to do just that because he shifts forward on his knees an inch or so and I hear, rather than see, the soft "smlack, smlack, smlack" as he taps his cock against her clit and her still-wet pussy lips.
When she's had all of that she can stand she reaches forward, and I'm quite sure she lightly grasps his cock with her still-wet fingertips and holds it against her pussy.
I can see that one of her legs has crooked behind him and is just below his ass. As she pushes his dick downward with her fingers she pulls her leg inward toward her. He can't help but pivot forward and his cock then slip-and-slides neatly just inside her love tunnel. Another nice trick.
He's complimentary: "Oohhh, that was nice," he rumbles. Because it was. I wonder to myself where she learned that little maneuver.
"Thank you," she whispers through a low giggle in reply. "Now... YOU show ME something."
