Han's Wife Cheryl Finds Her In

Cheryl cures her frigidity by showing off her boobs

**

Hank met Cheryl the old-fashioned way: at a bar. They hit it off, exchanged coordinates, and he asked her out. At the end of the first date, they kissed, and sparks flew. Cheryl was the girl for Hank. He was 28, had been around the block, and knew what he wanted from a woman. Cheryl was only 23, but she had lived a full life up to that point, as Hank later learned. She too knew what she was doing, and what she wanted from life. What she wanted was Hank.

Hank's previous wife Mary had been pretty, sexy, and dynamite in the sack, but she had one major fault: She was as dumb as a sack of rocks. One of Hank's friends - Jim, now a former friend - had taken advantage of Mary's ignorance, innocence, and downright stupidity. He seduced her. Moreover, Jim seduced Mary repeatedly. Some men - even most men - cannot handle infidelity, no matter the excuse. That's why Mary is now Hank's ex-wife.

Cheryl was smarter than Mary, and moreover she was prettier, just as sexy, and arguably even better in bed! The main issues with Cheryl were that she was religious, she listened to Talk Radio and Fox News, and she believed it all. In fact, Cheryl was not the sharpest tool in the shed, but she was so much smarter than Mary, that Hank overlooked these mild imperfections, or at least they were imperfections from his standpoint. Besides, it's not as if Hank himself were a rocket scientist.

Hank was not a flaming liberal, or anything of the sort. He was a Hoosier through and through, and typically bought the Republican Party company line, never having voted for a Democrat in his life; it was just that he thought Fox News and Talk Radio were, well, what is the polite way to say it? Bananas.

Hank and Cheryl went to bed together on the second date, and Hank thought he had died and gone to heaven. Cheryl gave him a blowjob from Venus: She was slow, licking the sides of his cock, kissing the top, taking just the top into her mouth, running her tongue around it, and then bobbing her head, sucking it, while her hand jerked the stem. She then moved to his balls, humming as she engulfed first one, then the other into her mouth. When finally, she sensed he was getting ready to blow, she deep throated him effortlessly. To say Hank was dazzled would be an understatement.

Cheryl next danced naked for him to speed the recovery of his balls, played with herself, and by the time she was done with her dance, Hank was hard as a rock! He had never watched a woman masturbate before, and boy, was that hot! Finally, Cheryl pushed him down, climbed on top of him, and she rode him like there was no tomorrow. This time Cheryl could more fully join in on the eros, since feeling Hank's cock fill her pussy was electrifying. She knew this was beyond spectacular, and she was not surprised when she climaxed, moaning more erotically than she had ever done before.

On the third date Cheryl proposed anal. That was mostly just to please and to further dazzle Hank, and to secure that he would remain in lust with her for a good, long time. It worked. Hank quickly learned there was nothing this girl wouldn't do, and there was nothing she hadn't already done, with some other lucky stud in her sexual past.

Sexually, Hank was smitten. On top of everything, Cheryl was pretty, and also sexy to look at. She had a nice figure, a flat tummy, and lovely boobs. Her hair was a beautifully textured, luscious dirty blonde, and her eyes were a soft brown. She had a long neck, and she always wore dangle earrings. She was a head turner, and she seemed to enjoy being one. Hank felt that her boobs could be classified as a national treasure.

What Hank could not get over, however, was Cheryl's mouth. Her lips were big, and her mouth was wide. Her lips were always covered with enticing lipstick. Her lips usually were wet, and she often looked as if she would like nothing more than to have Hank's hard cock between her lips, as she sucked another load of his spunk right out of it! Hank loved Cheryl; He loved her sweetness, her love of nature, her innocence, but most of all he loved her moist, succulent mouth, and the pleasure it always promised, without fail.

Of course, there's more to romance than a good blowjob, or for that matter a good sex life, and here is where the two lovebirds lucked out. Cheryl was a movie buff, and there was nary an old movie she hadn't already seen. She also enjoyed and was in fact eager about going to all the new movies, so Hank didn't have to be that creative on their dates: dinner, a movie, and a romp in bed, either her bed, or his, and they were both happy, and fulfilled.

There were, however, a couple of differences. They were different religions, and Mary was religious, although she did not wear it on her sleeve; she was anything but pious. Hank, in contrast, was quite simply not a believer. Faith, as such, was a stranger to him. Hank's attitude, however, was to each his own, and he could live with Cheryl being religious. Cheryl in return had no issues with Hank's lack of faith.

Both Cheryl and Hank didn't care much about organized religion. Cheryl cared more than Hank did, but in essence, their religious differences were small, and copacetic.

A dream marriage followed. Hank proposed on bended knee, and Cheryl accepted with a smile that lit up the room. A year later Cheryl donated a bundle of joy to the world, a son, and two years after that they had a second son. That's when things began going south.

Their love was as strong as ever, but Cheryl's sexual desire fell into the toilet. She was never in the mood: she worried that either the children would hear, or that maybe they'd walk (or in the case of tiny Eddie, crawl) in on them in the middle; she had her period, she had PMS, or she had a migraine, or she just had a garden variety headache. Neither Hank, nor Cheryl herself, knew where her normally quite high sex drive had gone.

Hank's sex drive had never left, and he stayed sane via masturbation. Every so often Cheryl would force herself to have sex with Hank, giving him a blowjob, and she used some lube so that it could be followed by a nice fuck, but they both knew she wasn't really into it. Hank was trying everything. Finally he cashed in some savings and announced they were going on holiday to the French Riviera. Cheryl's parents had agreed to take the kids for ten days. Her father told Hank he had a twenty-day supply of Xanax; what could go wrong? Cheryl knew that by the time they came home, Hank Jr. would be toilet trained. Cheryl's mom was a force of nature.

Cheryl was excited beyond belief. She had never been to Europe and in particular going to France had been a life-long dream for her. In addition, she loved the beach. She went to every travel website there was, and haunted the travel section of the local Barnes & Noble. She had studied French in high school, and some in college. She was so ready for this! She gave Hank a celebratory blowjob, but her pussy was, as it always seemed to be these days, a good approximation of the Mojave Desert. The two lovers gave up trying to fuck.

Cheryl had bought a daring two-piece bathing suit, but when they went to the beach in Cannes, she laughed to herself when she realized her bathing suit was the least daring of all the women on the beach! There are two kinds of beaches on the Riviera: the free ones, open to the public, and the "plages aménagées" where you have to pay a fee. You rent for the day (or the half day) a mattress that sits upon a wood chaise lounge, and if you want one, a parasol, too. You get a small table next to the lounger chair, to put your drinks on. Waiters bring them to you as you lounge decadently on the soft, fine, sandy beach. You can usually also eat at a restaurant served at tables, right there on the beach. You eat with your feet in the sand, and the food is fabulous. Nothing tastes better, when eaten on the beach, than genuine French fries! Hank was no fool: Of course, he did not choose the free, public beaches, but instead he opted for the plages aménagées.

As it turned out, more than a few French women went topless at the beach, and since Hank loved boobs, he totally enjoyed (subtly, of course) checking out all the luscious boobs all around him. He was hard much of the day.

When they left the beach, Cheryl eagerly rushed to the shops, that were just across the road separating the beach from the town. She realized her daring Indianapolis bikini was clunky compared to what French women were wearing! She bought a new bikini, a beach coverup, and while she was in the shops, a vast assortment of new clothes, and new shoes of course, too.

On the second day, without even discussing it with Hank, Cheryl wore her new, highly sexy bikini, and she casually removed her top, once they were installed on their mattresses, with their parasols, and with Hank's beer on the little table. She was on her tummy, so her back was bare. Hank wondered if she would simply turn over at some point, and not bother with her top at all! To Hank's shock and happy surprise, that is precisely what Cheryl did! Hank was thrilled. He got especially thrilled when an American tourist passing by, seeing they were reading books in English, stopped to ask them directions.

Cheryl cheerfully replied to the American tourist, even if she was unqualified to give directions, and she shamelessly flaunted her boobs. The American tourist happily stared at her boobs, not her eyes, as they talked about this and that, about nothing of any consequence. It hadn't bothered Hank when all the French men saw his topless wife, since about a quarter of the (French) women at the beach were topless, but somehow when this American guy stared shamelessly at his wife, and she seemed to enjoy him staring, it turned Hank on.

That evening they went out for pizza, noting the pizza on the Riviera is like no other pizza they'd ever had. The crust was paper thin, and the cheese was out of this world. The tomato sauce was good, too, and they washed it down with a perfectly chilled French Rosé wine from the region. Neither of them mentioned that Cheryl had gone topless, or how they felt when the American spoke with her, while staring relentlessly at her naked boobs.

However, that night, when Hank didn't know if he should ruin the good, mellow feelings from their ethereal beach experience, and try to seduce Cheryl, she attacked him. She stripped naked, and she told him to feel her pussy. Hank did, and by gum, she was wet! She was very wet, at that! They skipped the de rigueur blowjob, and Hank just plunged right in, to a grateful gasp, which rapidly morphed into highly erotic moans. Cheryl was really into this! It was just like old times; she couldn't get enough, shouting at him, "Harder! Faster! Give it to me! Fuck me, Hank!"

Hank obeyed and their sex was over the top! Hank had no idea what had happened, but he was scared to analyze it. Was it because they were in France? Was it the vacation without the children? Was it the fabulous food, and/or the wine? Was it the beach? Was it some combination of the four? Who the bleep cared? They fucked wonderfully each and every day. Most days they fucked once in the morning, after Hank received his good morning blowjob, as Cheryl called it, and they fucked twice at night.

Cheryl took to taking long walks along the expansive beach, showing off her bare boobs. Hank stayed on his mattress, pretending to read, but instead he watched his topless wife showing off in public. When she got too far away, he'd switch his attention to the topless babes all around him. For a man who liked boobs (and what man doesn't?) Hank was in seventh heaven. After all, seventh heaven is the highest heaven, where God and the most exalted angels dwell. He was surrounded by topless angels, now, wasn't he?

When they returned to reality, reclaimed their two adorable children and slept in their own bed, back home in Indiana, their sex life was like a car coasting slowly to a stop. By the time they were back two weeks, Cheryl could no longer get wet. Her frustration matched Hank's. They could not possibly afford to keep bouncing back and forth to the Riviera in order to have a fulfilling sex life.

Cheryl was particularly alarmed. She had read enough women's magazines to know that a disappearing sex life typically preceded a dissolution of the marriage. Losing Hank would destroy her! She did not know what to do! She consulted her religious leader, and he told her the solution was simple: fervent prayer.

Quite frankly, Cheryl thought it was strange, bordering on perverted, to pray to the Almighty to ask Him to end her frigidity. She went to doctors, but Viagra works for men, not often for women. She was screwed. Funny, she thought, her whole problem was that she could not screw!

**

Two years passed, and Cheryl's prayers were finally answered. Boy, the Almighty can be slow, at times, she had happily thought. On the other hand, from the perspective of geological change...Cheryl had been praying to him every single bleeping day, and finally he came through for her! Thank you, God, she thought. She was so, so grateful that her marriage was still intact. Hank had stuck with her, not through thick and thin, but through wet and through dry; especially, dry. Hank was a remarkably good man. Cheryl felt blessed to be married to him.

The revelation happened quite by chance. Cheryl had a lazy morning one Wednesday, with Hank being off at his workplace. She herself didn't have to get to work until 10:30AM. She took the kids to day care, and she went home and took a leisurely shower. She had just dried off when the doorbell rang. She threw on a blouse and skirt and ran to answer the door. In her haste, she had skipped bra and panties and also, she had, quite by accident, donned a tight, sheer blouse, simply because it was the first blouse she grabbed.

The man at the door was their neighbor Mitch, wanting to borrow some tools from Hank. When Cheryl opened the door, he was struck dumb, staring at her boobs through her blouse. She hadn't dried herself thoroughly, and the blouse was clinging to her wet nipples. Her hair was still wet, clinging to her head, and dripping water onto her blouse. The drips seemed to unerringly find their way to her nipples. Instantly, Cheryl was transported back to Cannes, and the time that American man stared at her boobs in exactly the same way.

Once Mitch found his voice, he offered to return another time, it being obvious Cheryl had just left the shower. Cheryl, however, was thrilled! She could almost feel her pussy getting wet, in direct proportion to the level of lust in her neighbor Mitch's eyes. Mitch stammered out his request, and Cheryl gave him her one-million-watt smile, in reply, saying, "Follow me."

Cheryl's moist buttocks had done a number on the tight skirt she had thrown on, and Mitch was getting hard just from the view of her ass, as she ever so subtly wiggled towards the garage in front of him. Mitch could see right through the back of her blouse, and it was obvious she was not wearing a bra, explaining why he had this clear 'delusion' that he had seen her boobs, and yes, her delightfully hard nipples, right through her blouse.

Cheryl's blouse was designed to be worn with a camisole, or at least a modest white bra underneath it. With nothing on underneath, it would normally be a provocative, but with Cheryl still being a little wet from the shower, her braless blouse bordered on obscene, but in a good way!

Cheryl easily found the tools Mitch wanted. Hank had an exquisitely organized (and clean!) work space. Maybe she should fuck Hank with her bent over the sawhorse, she idly wondered. She knew Mitch wanted to jump her bones right then and there, but Cheryl had eyes only for Hank. Mitch had helped, however, for now she was wet! Cheryl was so excited she could barely contain herself.

Cheryl got rid of Mitch, who left happily with Hank's tools and a super erotic memory of his mid twenties sexpot of a neighbor. Cheryl thought about hightailing it to Hank's office and demanding he fuck her, maybe with her naked and sprawled out on his desk, but she had to go to work herself.

That night, after the children were asleep, Cheryl attacked Hank with a vengeance only a sex starved woman can muster. She insisted he take her rear entry, and then again with her on top, cowgirl style. Moreover, she wanted him to take pictures of her fucking him. Hank was in a happy daze; he was in a

very

happy daze!

Hank asked later what had inspired this wonderful sexual session, and Cheryl, now quite religious, said, in all simplicity, "God answered my prayers." That was the only explanation Hank could get out of her. He settled for it, because Cheryl's new and intense sexual desire (and lack of frigidity), lasted for the better part of a week, before the Mojave Desert gradually returned, to occupy an unwelcome vagina. Cheryl forgot all about mentioning Mitch's visit until several days later when Hank couldn't find a certain tool he needed.

The next day Cheryl went next door to retrieve the tool Mitch had borrowed from Hank. Wanting to feel randy again, she wore the same blouse with no bra. This time she wore panties, and she was no longer fresh out of the shower. Once again, Mitch was mesmerized by the sight of her boobs right through her blouse. Once again, neither Mitch nor Cheryl mentioned that obvious fact, and once again Cheryl's prayers were answered. Hank was thrilled.

The following month the bedroom blinds broke, and they could not be lowered. Hank had left early for work, so Cheryl got dressed, alone in her bedroom, with the blinds up. The second-floor bedroom window faced the neighbor to their west, while Mitch was their neighbor to their east. Cheryl thought nothing of her exposure via the window, and unbeknownst to her, the neighbor Gary, a high school senior who was barely eighteen, got a free, fleeting show of a naked Mrs. Robinson, his sexpot neighbor, seven years his senior at this point.

After the show, Gary sat in his room, hoping for some more, but nothing happened. He waited too long, for he missed the bus. He masturbated behind a tree at the bus stop before beginning the long walk to the school. That night, he got to watch the reverse, as Mrs. Robinson dressed for bed. He was hoping Mr. Robinson would rip off her nightgown and fuck her without mercy so that he could watch! Alas, it didn't happen.

Two days later his binoculars arrived from Amazon. By then he knew the times to watch. People are creatures of habit, and Cheryl was no exception. Cheryl removed her nightgown and stood at the mirror, naked. She had an annoying pimple somewhere in the middle of her back, and she was using two mirrors to look for it. She found it, left to the bathroom to get a cream, and returned to the bedroom to apply it. A flash of bright light struck her eye as the binocular's lens reflected the morning sun.

Cheryl suddenly realized she was being watched. She had her very own peeping Tom! Almost instantly she began to get wet. God works in mysterious ways, she thought to herself. Her prayers were being answered a third time! She knew she couldn't let on that she knew what her neighbor was doing, since it would probably scare him away. So, she literally forced herself not to look out the window. Instead, she kept studying herself I the mirror, turning this way and that, to expose her nudity to the max, and for as long as seemed possible. She was so wet; so ready for sex! She even forgot about putting the cream on her pimple. She would have probably needed Hank's help anyway, she later reasoned, because it was in the small of her back.

Later, when she got home from work, she looked out her bedroom window and saw the neighbor boy Gary's room directly across. She could tell it was his, since she was staring at a large Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition poster of some busty model with her tits hanging out of her bikini top. It was on the boy's bedroom wall. She giggled. Boys will be boys! She looked forward to giving Gary some good shows. She imagined him jerking off to the shows she would give, and she giggled happily at the thought.