Chapter Seven
I was roused the next morning by a tightness around my cock. In the slant light of a summer morning I looked down to see my wife gripping me in one hand. She wasn't stroking it, and she didn't seem aware that I was awake. She was simply holding it, fixated. It was the same position she'd been in last night. She's comparing them, I realized, and my cock twitched in her hand. She looked up at me, her concentration broken.
"Good morning," she said huskily. Still hoarse from the smoke.
"Good morning to you, too." A silence between us, except for the sound of her breathing and the birds outside. "Are you going to...?"
"Mm-hmm! Yes I am," she said with a smile. She gave a squeeze and opened her mouth.
It was a different sort of blowjob than she'd been giving. Usually, she would have sucked greedily and hard, taken as much of me into her mouth as she could, and gotten her treat at the end as quickly as she could. This morning, though, I felt her warm breath up and down my shaft as she held it. Little open mouthed sucking kisses and tickling from the tip of her tongue. And the whole time her eyes never left my cock.
She teased until I groaned out loud, then gave long licks on the underside, waggling her tongue as she drew it up and down. When she got to the top, she'd take the head into her hot mouth for a second or two, sucking and swirling, before returning to her tantalizing slide up and down.
I had barely gotten to sleep last night from excitement, and if she hadn't fallen asleep in the car, I absolutely would have fucked her without delay. So it was not long before I felt my climax build.
"Love," I said. "I'm almost there."
She drew her head away from my cock and looked up at me, stroking me with one hand.
"Are you close?" she asked. The echo from last night made my hips jerk a little. She smiled. "Guess so."
"I'm close," I grunted. "You want me to come?"
Now it was her turn for a little tremor to run through her body. "Yes," she whispered. She stroked faster, big blue eyes on mine.
I did. Nieve used her other hand as a shield and blocked the spurts. I lay back. I had needed that badly after the events of last night.
Nieve was not finished, however. She was staring at the pearly liquid she'd caught in her palm. She looked at me, and deliberately raised her hand to her mouth. As I watched, she lapped up my seed from her hand. I held my breath. Her eyes closed and I watched her throat work with each swallow.
Her eyes snapped open. "I need you!" she said, fiercely.
"YES." I reached for her. Normally if I came first, she'd get hers while I went down on her or one or both of us used our fingers. Today, though, she pushed me back down.
"NO," she said. "You need to STAY HARD for me." Her hand found my sticky cock, and she squeezed it. "STAY HARD."
I groaned. I was still sensitive from my orgasm. "You'd better hurry, then."
She positioned herself above me, then, still holding my cock to get the angle right, lowered herself. As I entered her I could feel how soaked her pussy was, and as she took more of me inside her juices dripped down the rest of my length. She began to ride with her familiar quick canter.
I felt the odd sensation of both softening and nearing a second orgasm. "Fuck," I said. "Are you close?" Her answer was to take my hands and put them firmly on her breasts.
"GRAB THEM," she snarled, still bouncing. I did, groping and squeezing. She closed her eyes and began to move even faster. I could see her own climax was almost there. I let go of a breast with one hand and slapped her ass, as hard as I could. It sounded like a gunshot.
She came with an odd stifled shriek, clenching and spasming around me, to which I responded rather weakly. A couple shots, perhaps. We weren't that young, I reminded myself, and getting two in a row like that was pretty good. As her orgasm subsided she drew herself off of my now completely soft cock. Instead of rolling over for our usual cuddle and pillow talk she stood up without a word and got into the shower.
"I still owe you another one," I called, but answer came there none.
---
That morning made me suspect that my plan had not had the effect I'd hoped for, and the rest of the week confirmed it. Nieve was short-tempered. She spent more time on her phone and less with me or the kids. I had expected a tearful confession, to be followed by my magnanimous forgiveness and then hot sex; instead I got a couple quickies with the lights off and one word responses to my attempts at conversation. I saw a lot less of my wife's blue eyes and a lot more of her back.
Lacey, who was supposed to forward me anything provocative or useful, sent me almost nothing. It seemed that Nieve wasn't sharing with her, either. By the time the weekend came back around I was in a state of frustration that matched my wife's.
"We need to discuss."
"yay!! clandestine lunch!!"
When I arrived at the restaurant where I was to meet Lacey and told the host I was meeting someone for lunch, he immediately smiled, nodded and turned to lead me there. I wondered how he knew until I saw Lacey seated in a booth. She had on over-sized sunglasses as well as a ridiculous floppy hat over a silk headscarf, and could not have looked more conspicuously like someone pretending to be incognito. I slid in across from her.
"Nice hat," I said.
"Thank you! Perfect for"--she lowered her voice to a portentous whisper--"clandestine lunch."
"We are not making 'clandestine lunch' a thing. Take the damn hat off." She did, and then her sunglasses. I could see the twinkle in her eyes. The faint smell of vintage Shalimar reached me across our table.
"So?" she said, her lips making a perfect little cupid's bow. "How are things, o co-conspirator?" She unwrapped her headscarf and put it in the hat beside her.
"Shitty." I summarized the week while she toyed with the ribbon on her hat.
"What did you expect?" She sighed when she saw my expression. "Really? Here's what happened: she's mad at ME because I invited Jonah over and then 'fell asleep', leaving her to be seduced, and she's mad at YOU because you weren't there to stop her from doing what she did."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Shut up, dummy. It doesn't have to make sense to you. And she's also mad at you pre-emptively, because she's afraid of what you'll do when you find out."
We ate in silence while I thought this through. "Fine. Assuming arguendo that's the case, where do we go from here?"
"Couple of options, I think," said Lacey. "You can wait it out, or you can confront her. What do you want to do?"
"She's not talking to you?"
"Not much. Like I said, she's mad at me."
"Think you could get her to talk to you about it?"
She put down her fork. "Probably. But why should I? None of this is my deal. You know what I want, and this doesn't get me it."
"Right."
"You know, you could get mad once in a while. You don't always have to be all high above it all."
"Wait, are you trying to piss me off?"
"Finally you notice. Motherfucker, the only way you pay attention to ME is when we're talking about your wife or I've riled you up. Of COURSE I'm trying to piss you off!"
"Sorry."
"I don't want you to be 'sorry'! I want you to get mad and call me a whore and then fu--I mean, treat me like one! Asshole!" She threw the last of her glass of wine in my face. Fortunately for me it was almost empty. "You going to do it now? Huh?"
"No." We stared at each other from across the table. A slow, reluctant smile spread across her face.
"Goddammit. Why are you so good at this?"
"Long hours of arduous practice." Our waitress hovered in the background, looking anxious. "We're fine," I said. Lacey waved a hand to confirm. I wiped my face with my napkin.
"Fucker," said Lacey.
"Did she get his number?" I had wondered with Nieve being on her phone so often.
