Lying About My Age Ch 06

This ongoing story is a fantasy based very loosely on actual events and real people. As always, any similarities to any persons, places, or things, or anything you have heard before is a complete accident.

I never knew it could be like this.

It sounds corny to say it, I know, but it was true. I had heard that every time you fall in love it was different. My relationship with Ashley was definitely very different from my past relationships.

There was no stress in our relationship. No pressure at all. From day one Ashley and I were together because we wanted to be together. We both looked forward to whatever time we could spend together, so there was never a time where one of us begged off spending time together for any reason.

We started off just spending weekends together. Ashley worked late most nights but she made it a point to be done at 5pm on Fridays. We would meet for dinner. We would go back to her place. We would be together until Sunday night. Most weekends we didn't do anything much. We ate out. We stayed in and watched movies. We had sex. We got tired of eating out all the time and started cooking meals together. We never got tired of each other's company. It was perfect.

If I had any anxiety at all it was that sometimes I had the creeping realization that Ashley was way out of my league. She was younger, smarter, better educated, and better looking. She made a lot more money than I did. In my insecure moments I would wonder what she saw in me, how I ended up with her. It wasn't that hard to see the truth, really. She only hinted at her past relationships, her previous boyfriends. If they didn't outright mistreat her, they certainly neglected her. She didn't need a man to support her, or to take care of her. I made her laugh. I made her cum. I made her happy.

We spent a lot of Sundays with her family. I was introduced to her bizarre family dynamic. Ashley was the oldest of three evenly spaced children, although they didn't seem to plan it that way. There was Ashley, her younger brother Tyler, and of course Caitlyn. Tyler was 30, and he was an IT specialist. He fit the computer geek mold, introverted and quiet. He was with the family physically but rarely mentally, always distracted by some computer problem or jabbing away at his phone.

The more interesting dynamic was between Ashley, Caitlyn, and their father. Ashley seemed like the perfect child for any parent to have, smart, successful, and pretty, but Caitlyn was daddy's girl. Caitlyn and her boyfriend Chris didn't show up to dinner all the time, but when they did it was a different atmosphere. The more I got to know them, the more I realized how screwed up they both were.

Caitlyn in a nutshell was just a bad seed. She had battled anorexia as a teenager and still looked like she was one missed meal away from starving to death. Besides drinking a lot, they took drugs too, although Ashley thought she and Chris stayed away from the harder drugs, she knew that Caitlyn was high a lot, on pot or X. They simply didn't show up for dinner some Sundays, and it was because they had partied too hard the night before or were still partying. Chris had a criminal record. Even though he came from a wealthy family, he was a kleptomaniac and got busted for shoplifting a few times, and for various nuisances like public intoxication. Caitlyn had flunked out of college and couldn't hold a job. But still their dad was all about Caitlyn, and barely noticed his other two children.

Ashley seemed to take it all in stride. She had made her peace with the way her family was years ago, she told me once, and she just made it a point to enjoy them while they were still around. I could relate, having lost my father suddenly two years ago. Don't take any of it for granted, I told her, no matter how screwed up it all was.

As our relationship progressed I started spending weeknights at Ashley's place too. At some point Ashley gave me a key to her place, and I'd start going straight there after work. I never worked late. As a morning person, if I ever had any extra work to do, I'd get to work early. My office was only 10-15 minutes from Ashley's place, so I'd get there and make dinner for whenever Ashley got home later in the evening. I wasn't a great cook, but I could make enough basic meals, like chicken or pork or burgers or pasta to get through the week. I got a pizza stone and started making pizzas, although I could never get them to turn out perfectly round. Ashley was happy. I was happy. I couldn't care less about gender roles.

The less I was at my own place, the less I had to think about Jamie. After that crazy night when she faked masturbating and shouted my name through the wall, I didn't see Jamie again. I tried not to think about her too much. She was immature, if not downright crazy. When I still spent evenings at home I would hear her through the wall. Not masturbating, just talking, or I would hear her television blaring. Sometimes I would start to wonder about what she was doing in there, but I would think of Ashley and push the thoughts away, turn off the TV and go to bed. I didn't need to go there, not anymore.

I spent more and more time with Ashley and I saw less and less of my barren, sparsely furnished apartment. I started to feel silly signing a year lease. I was never there. Once my lease was up, if not sooner, I would just move in with Ashley. We never even talked about it. It was just implied. I was looking forward to the year being over. I wouldn't have to pay rent anymore.

One night we were sitting around talking after dinner. The conversation turned to sex. I think I had made some corny innuendo joke, like I've got some meat for you after she complemented me on a dinner of pork tenderloin. Ashley would always pause when I made a joke like that, and then laugh sarcastically.

"Rich, do you still masturbate?" Ashley suddenly asked me.

I stared at her. We had been together for months. We had sex almost every night we were together. I honestly hadn't given much thought to masturbating. For once in my life I had a satisfying enough sex life that I didn't need to think about getting myself off. Even when Ashley had her period she would give me a blow job, although I much preferred sex with her. "No," I eventually said, "Why would you ask?"

"I don't know," Ashley said. "Maybe I'm just insecure. Are you happy?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation.

"Are you happy overall, or just with our sex life?" Ashley asked.

"Yes," I said again without hesitation. Why was she asking me this? I decided to turn it back on her. "Are you happy?" I asked her.

"Yes, very," Ashley said, smiling at me. "It's just... I don't know... it's weird to say... sometimes I actually miss being alone and masturbating."

Was she trying to tell me I was around too much and she needed her space? Where was she going with this? For the first time since we met I started to feel anxious. "Do you want me to leave?" I asked her.

"No! No," she said. "I'm making a mess of what I'm trying to say, I guess." Ashley took a deep breath. "Before I met you I was single a lot. Hell, even when I was in a relationship, I was alone a great deal of the time. I got used to getting myself off. Our sex is great; don't get me wrong," Ashley added, "But masturbating touches a specific part of your brain. Watching something dirty and getting turned on by it. Despite how much I enjoy being with you, sometimes I miss it. Don't you?"

I paused to think about what she was saying. I was single for much of my 20's. I had trouble meeting women because I was shy and quiet. I lived with my parents and didn't make much money, and since most women were looking for someone to take care of them financially, I didn't attract many women. I met a few women off of the internet and I had brief relationships, but most of the time I was single, and horny. I would get myself off whenever I was alone. Whether it was late at night, early in the morning, or the middle of the afternoon, it didn't matter. I had the internet to seek out anything that turned me on, or dirty movies on cable. Then, when I was about 27 I was introduced to the woman that would become my wife. We hit it off, and within a year we were engaged, and a year after that we were married. I thought my days of watching porn and jerking off were over, only it wasn't. Within a few years of being married we were already drifting apart. We had nothing in common, and various stresses like money and our families put a strain on our relationship. Our sex life suffered, and my attention turned back to internet porn and dirty movies on cable. I would get myself off whenever she wasn't around. When I couldn't sleep at night I'd sneak off and find a dirty movie on the TV downstairs. When I was awake early on weekend mornings and she would sleep in, I would go on the computer and watch videos or read stories until I was ready to explode. I'd walk right past my snoring wife and sneak into the bathroom, my erection raging, and turn on the shower and jerk off.

I said all of this to Ashley. She watched me intently, and when I was done she smiled. "Do you miss it at all?" She asked. "The clandestine thrill of watching porn and getting yourself off?"

"When you put it that way, I guess so," I said. "I'd rather have sex with you," I added, "But watching porn and getting off was... is fun."

Ashley took a long drink of water. "Were you ever unsatisfied after sex?" She asked.

"Me? No." I said.

"Of course not," Ashley said, "You always got off. Men always get their orgasm," she said, and sort of winked at me. "I dated some shitty guys when I was younger," Ashley said. "They didn't abuse me or mistreat me. They didn't cheat on me that I know of, but they were lousy in bed. They didn't care whether I enjoyed myself or not. Sometimes they were too drunk to even get it up, or they'd last two minutes and roll over and fall asleep. I'd have to sneak into the bathroom and finish getting myself off."

My mind created a mental picture of Ashley sitting on the toilet and frigging herself off. I felt myself start to grow hard, and I idly wondered how I managed not to up until then.

"The point I'm trying to make is I got myself off probably as much as you did," Ashley said. "Maybe more," she added. She smiled sheepishly and glanced at the floor.

I couldn't imagine a woman getting off more than the horny young man I was. I couldn't believe I was even having this conversation with Ashley. I never talked about masturbating before. Not with anyone, but especially not with my ex-wife. If you believed anyone if they told you they never masturbated, you would believe my ex-wife. She was such a prude. As far as I know, she never knew I masturbated while we were together. She never caught me watching porn or jerking off in the bathroom, and if she knew or even suspected I did, she never confronted me about it. I struggled to keep the conversation with Ashley going. I had so many questions, but I didn't know what to ask. What was too personal? "What... what did you do to get yourself off?" I eventually asked her, my mouth suddenly dry. I took a drink of water.

"Oh, you know. I watched dirty movies on television. Videos on the internet," Ashley said. "There are sex scenes on almost every show these days. Every R-rated movie manages to show at least a few seconds of bare boobs. It's hard to miss."

I nodded. I didn't watch many shows anymore. I watched mostly sports when I wasn't specifically looking to get myself off. If sports weren't on, I watched the same handful of 80's movies I liked growing up. It drove my ex-wife crazy.

"Can I let you in on a secret?" Ashley said, and she giggled.

"This whole conversation has pretty much been revealing secrets," I said.

"You're right, I guess," Ashley said. "Well, at some point when I watched dirty movies..." she paused, and took another drink of water and then looked me right in the eye, "I started watching lesbian porn." She smiled at me sheepishly.

My mind started racing. Was she telling me she was a lesbian? Was she bi-sexual? Wherever this was going, I had a mental picture of Ashley getting off while watching women have sex. I squirmed in my chair; I was so turned on by the thought of it.

"I'm not into women, not in that way," Ashley said after a moment. She took a deep breath. "It just sort of happened. Porn is so geared towards men. Most pornos have at least one girl-girl scene in it. At first I'd just skip over them, but after a while I started watching them, and enjoying them, and getting off to them. I had to do a lot of soul searching when I started watching lesbian porn and came to the conclusion that I wasn't interested in having sex with women. I just... liked to watch it. Call it a fetish, like BSDM or cosplaying as your favorite manga character. Think about the extreme shit that you watch but would never consider doing." My eyes bulged. Ashley giggled. "There's just something about two, or more women together. I don't know. Straight porn is great, don't get me wrong. But it's so geared towards men. Wham bam, thank you ma'am. There's usually no intimacy. Women are different. And their bodies... like I said, I don't want to actually have sex with a woman, but women's bodies are beautiful. I like big breasts. Maybe because mine are so small," she said, gesturing towards her small chest. "And I like nice butts, and everyone has a butt," she said and giggled.

I was suddenly aware that my mouth was hanging open, and I closed it with an effort. I was just staring at her, and I blinked. I knew that Ashley was more sexually open and advanced than any woman I'd been with before, but this was totally unexpected. My mind raced to come up with a response to her.

"Do you think I'm crazy?" Ashley asked me.

"No, no," I said quickly. I took a deep breath of my own. "I've probably asked myself the same questions about sexuality at some point," I said. "I can appreciate and find men's bodies attractive, to a point. So I'd ask myself when I was single and couldn't find a woman to be with was I gay. And I'd come to the same conclusion. No, no I'm not. I would never watch gay porn, though. If anything, I prefer watching lesbian porn too because with lesbians you never find yourself staring at a guy when you're trying to get off. You never have to see a 10-inch dick and feel inadequate."

"So... we both like to watch lesbian porn..." Ashley said and laughed. "There's some common ground I bet you never thought you'd find with me."

"No," I said and laughed. I was relieved. Relieved that telling me she missed being alone and masturbating didn't mean she wanted to see less of me. I was relieved that she wasn't telling me she was a closet lesbian or something.

"I'm glad we talked about this," Ashley said. "I feel like I can tell you anything. I hope you feel the same way."

"Yes," I said. All I could think about now was my raging erection. I stood up, and my erection was tenting out my shorts.

Ashley definitely saw it. She stood up from the kitchen table. She glanced at the dirty dishes. "Cleanup can wait," she said, and she tilted her head to the bedroom. She turned and I raced her into the bedroom. We undressed and were fucking in minutes. Usually we would take our time and enjoy some foreplay, but I think she was as turned on as I was. I was inside her as fast as I could get the condom on my erection and jump on the bed. Usually I'd have to take a minute and work my way into her slowly, but Ashley was completely ready to go. I was thrusting into her as hard as I could. She had her hands on my butt, trying to push me as deep as she could into her. I thrust myself into her as far as I could and held it there, pressing against her. Ashley started bucking her hips and moaning. I was too turned on to ride it out and started thrusting again, passing the point of no return and coming inside her as she orgasmed. I collapsed onto her and we lay like that for several minutes, completely spent.

"That was so good," Ashley eventually said. She sounded out of breath. "Quick isn't always so bad," she whispered and giggled. Her hands were still on my butt, and she gave it a playful slap. "I love a tight butt. I love you," she added. Ever since we said we loved each other, she always said it after sex.

"I love you too," I mumbled. I was laying flat against her, too tired to move.

Eventually, we got up and cleaned up. We didn't talk any more that night. We watched TV and fell asleep.

The rest of the week we fell back into our normal routine. I went to her place after work and made dinner. We watched some TV, had sex and went to sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about what she had told me. I thought about it constantly. Ashley liked watching lesbian porn; I would think right in the middle of a task at work and get completely distracted. Luckily my workload was light right now, and I took care to re-read everything I drafted before I handed it over to an attorney to sign. I had to fix a lot of mistakes. I had to hide a lot of erections, too. On Friday she got home just minutes after I did. Her office wasn't much further away from mine. Friday was the night we usually went out to dinner. We stayed in our work clothes and went out to the local diner. Ashley was her usual self, talking about her day.

Ashley was telling me a story about a co-worker, and I struggled to stay in the moment. I tried to focus on her face, her blue eyes, and her button nose. My mind drifted again, thinking about Ashley lying on her bed, no, on her couch. She was naked. She was watching two women have sex. Her hands were between her legs. She was getting herself off. I was growing hard thinking about it, right there in the diner. I shifted in my seat, trying to get comfortable.

"Are you okay?" Ashley suddenly asked me. "You seem uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," I said quickly. "I was just... thinking."

"Am I boring you?" Ashley asked. She sounded amused, not annoyed.

"No, not at all," I said.

"Okay, good." Ashley said, and our food arrived moments later. I tore into my grilled chicken sandwich.

We finished dinner and went back to her place. We changed out of our work clothes and into T-shirts and shorts. We would usually watch Jeopardy, then watch a ballgame or find a movie to watch, have sex and go to sleep. Ashley seemed antsy during Jeopardy. She would usually answer at least as many questions as I did, but she seemed distracted.

"Are you okay?" I asked her during the commercial break before final Jeopardy.

"Hmm? Yeah," Ashley said. "I'm just thinking about something."

I nailed final Jeopardy. It was an astronomy question, right in my wheelhouse. I switched over to the ballgame.

"Do you really want to watch the game?" Ashley asked, reaching to take the controller from me. "They suck right now," she added. I won't tell you who our favorite team is. We all need our secrets.

"I guess not," I said. I watched her flip to the on demand menu. "What do you want to do?" I asked her.

Ashley glanced sideways at me and grinned mischievously. "I did some quick research while you were in the shower the other morning," she said, "And I found something I think we should watch."

Ashley was on the Showtime menu now, scrolling to where the adult movies were. No way... I thought to myself. I felt my mouth go dry, and my dick start to tingle and swell. I used to know Showtime's selection of adult movies by heart. I knew they always changed on the first of the month, to the point where I'd be awake in the middle of the night on the first day of every month to see what, if any new movies there were to watch. It had been months since I had to go looking for porn. Ever since I met Ashley I didn't need to go looking for ways to get myself off. The movies had changed, at least somewhat. Ashley went right to one of the movies. It said erotic something-or-other. I didn't recognize the title. It must have been relatively new. She hit play. "Make yourself comfortable," she said to me.