I remember it vividly. As if though it was just yesterday.
It was late one Thursday evening, after finishing work on the railway station and travelling home mid-afternoon the wife and I had decided on takeaway for dinner to save time cooking.
After both of us were content with our meal from Hungry Jacks (Burger King for my American friends), and with our young one in bed for the evening, we turned our attention towards us. Just her and I.
Downloaded porn playing on our television screen, the lights turned off for that added extra level of intimacy with only the light from the T.V illuminating the loungeroom where we both sat our hands busy heavily petting each other.
Brushing her brown shoulder-length hair back I looked into her brown eyes as my mouth approached hers, her lips parting slightly as our respective pairs came together, our tongues dancing with each other.
Our hands, while all this was happening, were exploring each other's bodies. Mine starting out by rubbing her silky-smooth freshly shaven legs, while at 160cm (5 ft 3in) she didn't have the longest legs, as a legs man, they were cute and sexy.
For her part, her hands started around my neck before they lowered to unbutton each of the eight-or-so buttons of my work shirt, once achieving her goal of unbuttoning the buttons she placed her hands inside of my shirt pushing it off my shoulders until it crumpled on the couch behind me.
My hands had moved from her legs upwards towards her thighs. After rubbing her thighs, slowly inching my thumbs towards her vulva, she began to slowly thrust herself towards my thumbs, the heat radiating from their closeness obvious to the both of us.
This, however, brought us to our impasse.
We were both very sexual people, unfortunately over the preceding months we had grown apart. Admittingly, my escapades through discovering cruising, had not helped the situation, while it could be seen as an excuse, but we had both been withdrawing from each other long before the cruising escapades started, probably playing a role in trying it all in the first place.
Over the months we had found ourselves in this position before, amid a passionate situation, then finding ourselves in a race of sorts. We both entered this 'battle' to bring the other to climax while trying to avoid intercourse.
Realising we had come to 'that point', my wife was one step ahead of me in taking the opportunity. Repositioning herself on the floor in front of me, as I sat back on the couch, she reached towards my work belt, tugging at it with her hands while her crooked smile looked up at me.
I attempted to resist, this time I really wasn't feeling it, but before I could try and turn the tables, she had succeeded in unfastening my belt and the top clip of the pants that kept them around my waist.
Knowing she had the upper hand her smile grew broader as she reached in, starting to massage my semi-hard cock through my boxer-briefs.
As had become the norm her touch was not having the desired effect. Even glancing past her onto the screen at the porn that played behind her the vanilla male-on-female scene that was producing the light wasn't assisting in any form on getting me harder.
As she pulled the shaft from their thin material-covering and started to immediately suck on it my cock was still not responding. Instead of my mind letting go and attempting to enjoy the moment it was critiquing -- in a monological manner -- what she was doing and wanting to provide pointers on what I had learned men liked.
It soon dawned on me that this was not helping the situation and that I needed to clear my mind. Instead of watching my manhood slowly disappear into her mouth I closed my eyes and laid my head back on the cushion on the couch.
At first, I attempted to picture it was Rod, or some other guy, on the end of my cock which helped it grow but still wasn't the stimulant I needed to get the job done. My mind then put me in the position my wife was in.
On my knees.
My head buried into the lap of some guy taking his cock into my mouth.
The only difference being I was sure I was doing a much better job at sucking the pole in my mouth than she was doing mine right now. Putting the critique aside it seemed this new scenario playing out in my head what exactly what I needed.
I started to moan each time the cock entered my mouth, a rhythm I kept with my wife by ensuring the actions in my head matched those happening outside it.
Wanting more of the cock in my mouth I ensured that the next time my wife was on her way to take my shaft back in her mouth that I added a little bit of an extra thrust, her gag reflex immediately kicked in, my mind immediately calling her an amateur.
Following a few regular strokes of my cock in her throat I repeated the previous action, adding an unexpected deeper thrust, with the same result but this time not as bad of a reflex. This process continued, me never opening my eyes, instead opting to continue to picture being on the other end of this blowjob.
Soon the mix between fantasy and reality became morphed. Before I knew it, I was sucking someone's manhood. Whose? I didn't know and more importantly I didn't care it was a cock in my mouth and I loved it.
He placed his hands on the side of my head to guide me down his shaft, I gagged a little which was unusual I had sucked bigger, I didn't think much about it and continued to try and take it deeper into my throat the way many guys like it.
It became almost too much for him as he lifted my head from his shaft, pulling completely out with not only a plop sound as his tip escaped the suction my lips had previously provided but spin that had accumulated around his manhood while it was in my throat.
We repeated this process another couple of times, him pulling my head off, spit being dredged all over my face, before he decided it was enough.
He soon got into a standing position in front of me, still on my knees, after grabbing the back of my head and lining his cock with my mouth for the next minute-or-so he fucked me like his own personal Fleshlight.
