During the course of our marriage, my wife had remained sexually neutral. That is to say, she tolerated sex when she absolutely had to, when there seemed to be no way out for her. It was always a disappointment to me that other men seemed to have such a more fulfilling sex life. We had moments sure, but they were rare and not to be repeated. We separated for a half year at one time, and for a variety of reasons I returned home.
Soon after I returned, sex as it was, resumed. I was always puzzled by the female sex drive, assuming that she was a normal representative of the gender. One day, I received a call from her sister. She needed some information regarding property that was willed to the two of them by her Mother two years earlier. I said Iâd look for the papers, and call her back. I donât pry into my wifeâs personal belongings or private spaces, but she needed the papers and my wife was in Philadelphia on an audit for her CPA firm and couldnât be reached.
A few years before I had bought her a lingerie chest, and I knew that she kept a few pieces of jewelry there so after checking her desk, I thought Iâd check the lingerie chest. The top two drawers were filled with underwear and bras that were her everyday things. The third drawer yielded a surprise. There was a pillowcase among her things that appeared to have something inside. I took it out and withdrew from it several books and small boxes. The first book was soft cover with well-worn edges entitled âGo Fuck Yourself. A guide for a Single Woman on the Art of Self Loveâ
I couldnât believe my eyes. The second book was a book of porno photos of women with women, using tongue dildos, fingers, and other appliances of a sexual nature. Every kind of masturbation and mutual masturbation technique as well as girl-girl, and girl-guy oral sex was graphically depicted. In one of the boxes was an eight-inch flesh colored jell dildo. Inside a felt bag was a seven-inch silver colored, battery operated dildo and a smaller one for the anus. Other pocket books and magazines were in the bag as well, all related to lesbian love and masturbation. I was dumb struck.
Here was her secret. She had been finger fucking herself for quite a while it seemed.
Well well, I thought, this is going to be interesting. As I was replacing everything in the bag, the phone rang and I dropped it all on the floor. A few moments after the phone interruption, I put the bag of things back in the drawer as best I remembered its position and went off to work.
A few days after she returned from Phili, we took off for a planned weekend on Fire Island, at a time-share we rent on occasion. She was looking forward to three days of sun, surf and eating out. I was too, especially the eating part.
We took an early ferry over so as to make the time last as long as we could. She looked good; I missed her for the four days she was away. I told her about the call from her sister, and how I tried to 'look around' for the papers, not to find them. We held each other, and seemed to get closer as the mainland got farther behind us.
After a relaxing day on the beach, we changed and went to Ocean Beach for dinner. There was a beautiful sunset as we walked along the Bay Walk. The night was perfect, early summer and warm. We enjoyed a seafood dinner and desert and came back slowly along the surf side. â So do you want to do anything nowâ? I asked.
She looked up at me with a slight smile âwhy, what did you have in mindâ? Her smile turning to a grin. This was always a good sign, possibly it would turn into a good night.
I said â nothing specific, but Iâd like to get an early shower, itâs been a long dayâ.
A shower was always our signal for sexual activity to follow, although I had long abandoned that strategy.
Still, she grinned even wider, and agreed âyes a shower sounds goodâ.
We walked the rest of the way quietly, watching the ocean and the seagulls. We turned up to the dunes and over to our rental.
I poured some wine in two glasses, then sat out on the deck. She took a glass, wrapped herself in a terry robe, went into the bathroom and closed the door. As I watched the surf I heard the shower and saw the window fill with steam. A while later, she came out, her hair in a towel and said âitâs all yoursâ.
I had finished my wine and poured a second, which I took with me to the bathroom. Her wineglass was empty. Also a good sign.
A short time later, I came out feeling revived. My cock had grown thick in the steam as I thought about my plan and it was all I could do to calm myself down. I had put on a pair of cotton short pajama bottoms, nothing else. My cock and balls were swaying, my chest bare, hair damp. I slid into bed. She was reading a magazine; her glass of wine was refilled on the nightstand. All I could see was thin spaghetti straps above the blanket but I recognized their color and knew it was one of her sexiest nighties. I snapped off my light and slid under the sheet before she could notice my rising cock.
She shut the magazine, then the light and snuggled up to me in a spooning position. I slid my arms around her silky nightgown and pressed closer,inhaling her fresh scent. My penis felt that she was naked under her nightgown. âHello there, what is thatâ? she giggled as she felt my hardness.
I laughed, âItâs only meâ I slid my hand up to cup her breast and her nipple responded instantly.