Chapter 2

I expected Lydia to follow her, but she said, “I don’t suppose you have a bottle of wine handy, do you?”

It was the work of three minutes to get a nice bottle of Merlot that I had saved in my wine cabinet and a couple of glasses. I showed her the label, uncorked, poured, and sat back supremely pleased with the lovely company that I had staying in my house.

“Now, John, you were telling me about your wife and you stopped, saying that it was ‘too much information’. I don’t think it would have been too much at all. The idea of hearing the intimate details excites me.”

I was quiet for a time, just looking at her. I remembered the first time I saw this woman and thinking that she was a lovely young thing, but the circumstances of her immediate problems put all of those sorts of thoughts out of my mind. Now, however, this turn of our conversation redirected my thinking.

“She was ... aggressive is probably the word I want. She initiated our intimacies at least as often as I did, and she was almost always responsive to my overtures. Sometimes I would simply touch her on the shoulder and she would turn around into my arms saying ‘Do me!’ She never objected to graphic language when we were in the throes of passion, which is something that I really enjoyed, especially when she used it.

“She was also adventurous. There was no sexual position that she objected to, and she made certain that all of her openings were available to me. When we were first married, I avoided any suggestion of using the ‘back door’, assuming that she would find it unpleasant. One night, she asked me straight out why I hadn’t asked for that, so I told her that I had assumed she wouldn’t like it. She just shrugged and said ‘Oh’. The next night when I came to bed, I found her on her knees in the middle of our bed, completely naked, head down on a pillow and her lovely bottom well up in the air. As I was caressing her lovely curves, she simply said, ‘John, dearest, please fuck me in the ass.’ Of course, I obliged her, and we added a new dimension to our lovemaking.”

I paused because I noticed Lydia squirming uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m being too graphic...”

“ ... No, no, not at all, John. On the contrary, you are exciting me. Tell me more. Tell me about how you kissed her between her legs, and how she would pleasure you with her mouth.”

I smiled as I watched her reach inside the fold of her robe to caress her own breast as she listened to my story.

“Oral sex was part of our repertoire from the very beginning. In fact, she and I had agreed that there would be no intercourse until our wedding night. However, I discovered shortly after making that agreement that she defined ‘intercourse’ very strictly to mean the insertion of a penis into a vagina. She made it quite clear that any other act that gave us pleasure was fair game.

“The first time we made love was at her parents’ house. They had gone on a weekend outing and Nancy and I were sitting on the sofa watching a TV movie. She got up and went to the bathroom and when she came back, she whispered in my ear, ‘I left my panties off’. Then she pulled my hand to her crotch and encouraged me to play with her sex. I had learned enough of the female anatomy to be able to get her off quite nicely.

“Then she said, ‘my turn’, and undid my trousers so that she could start to stroke my throbbing erection. ‘John dear,’ she said, ‘I can’t get you off like this ‘cause you’ll make a mess.’ But then her sorrowful look turned into a grin just before she plunged her mouth down on me and took two-thirds of my rock hard shaft into her mouth and began to bob her head and suck. I tried to pull her head away as I felt my climax approaching, but she managed to say ‘Unh, uh’ and shake her head with her mouthful of cock. I unloaded into her mouth and throat what seemed at the time to be a quart of cum, and when I had finished, she looked up at me with white cream running down her chin from the corners of her mouth and said, ‘Mmm, Yum!’ Then I kissed that beautiful face.

“From then on, every time we were alone, she would ask for and receive what she called her ‘creamy dessert’. And then she took the time to carefully teach me how to use my lips, tongue, and fingers to pleasure her. I loved kissing her between her legs. I loved the taste and aroma, and the sense of her rising excitement. I wouldn’t be so boastful to say that I got her off every time, but she always made me think I did. Privately, she always called me her ‘Beautiful Cunt-Lapper’. Sorry, Lydia, about that word, but she used it freely and so it is part of the story.”

“Oh, my, I feel so sorry for you, John, that you lost such a beautiful lover. My husband and I had a much different experience. I used to hate the word ‘cunt’ because he would force me to say it under threat of a beating. I hated sucking his cock and hated the taste of his cum because he would grab me by the hair and force my head down on him. Every time he fucked my ass, he forced me. And the funny thing is, I would have done all of it willingly, even eagerly, if it had been done in a loving and tender relationship like you had with your Nancy.”

I didn’t answer because I was afraid my voice would crack from the excess of emotion I was feeling by reliving my memories with Nancy. I picked up the bottle of wine and motioned to Lydia’s glass.