Copyright © 2002, 2003
Jeanine said, "One of us needs to go to the store."
Of course, that meant I needed to go to the store. I occasionally joke about having married into royalty. She tosses that "imperial we" around quite a bit. She was sitting in front of the computer when she made her pronouncement, so I wandered over to see what inspired my latest Saturday shopping trip.
I fully expected to see virtualchocolate.com, or chocosphere.com or any of a dozen chocolate-related sites. Jeanine is a card-carrying chocoholic and proud of it. I only caught a glimpse of the open window before she minimized it. I don't think Jeanine realized that the URL remains visible in the little box when the embarrassing window is minimized, or even recently closed.
It caught the author's name, Uther Pendragon, and the story file name, "prone.txt." I recognized the name of Jeanine's favorite author. That she had a favorite internet author was my fault. We'd had a thunderstorm while I was online, and there was a surge and power failed. The computer survived, but a lot of settings were out of whack and I hadn't had the opportunity to clear the temporary internet files, cookies, or history.
Then Jeanine had a state holiday off and used the computer next. However it came about, (I think she was being nosy) she found those files and links, and did a little reading of her own. I can't regret the results, though. When I got home that afternoon, she practically ripped my clothes off and made love to me. Since then, she's shared little excerpts of stories with me (and vice versa) as a way to suggest new things, or variations on old things.
I wondered what was in that file on the screen. Knowing I'd ask, Jeanine quickly signed off, then deleted the temp files and history from the control panel. She was catching on. Now she wanted to talk.
"Do you think our sex life is too... vanilla?" she asked, her face serious and concerned.
I pondered a smart-ass remark about a vanilla question from a chocoholic, but managed to stifle myself. She was seriously asking and deserved a serious answer. "I have never complained about anything in bed, have I? You're all the woman I can handle." I pointed at the AOL sign-on screen. "The things we've added from the net haven't hurt, either, but they're just icing."
"Chocolate frosting," she corrected, glancing at a printout titled "How To Eat Pussy" and blushing a little. She'd remarked at the time that articles like that one should be mandatory in sex education classes. That little gem plus some open communication had improved that area of our sex life.
"But you have voiced a fantasy or two that I've turned down," she continued. "I worry that you're getting bored."
I hope I looked as flabbergasted as I felt. Sex with Jeanine, boring? Maybe in another hundred years, and I hoped to be around to test that. I turned it around. "Are you getting bored?" I wondered if Pendragon wrote those cheating wife stories, or threesomes, or poly relationships. I'm greedy. I want Jeanine all to myself.
"Now don't you go getting all insecure on me," she replied. She stood into my embrace and hugged me fiercely. "I am not bored." With that she proceeded to give me a tonsillectomy with her tongue. When we broke, panting, from that kiss, I noticed that her hands were in my back pockets and mine were kneading her cheeks.
"What was I saying?" she wondered.
"You were telling me not to worry about boring you," I replied, trying to bore through my jeans and her shorts with the hardest tool available.
"Right," she dimpled, thrusting her pelvis to meet the excavation effort. "What I guess I'm saying, is even though I'm not bored, I am curious about some things..."
"Does that mean you've changed your mind about..."
"No," she cut in, easing the pressure between us to emphasize her point. "I still don't want to be trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey so you can practice stuffing the cavities." Her nostrils flared and her eyes flashed.
I thought better of contradicting her description. I wanted to be not-bored tonight. A bird in hand - both hands, in this case. I squeezed playfully and asked, "So what are you curious about? Will I like it?"
The delightful rubbing resumed, and she responded, "Probably more than me. Than I. Let's just forget about that for now. Take me to bed and bore me a couple of times, vanilla-man."
As nicknames go, that wouldn't be my first choice. But I thought, 'what the hell'. I released her ass, and took her hand. With the other hand I grabbed that printout and dragged a giggling Jeanine off to the bedroom.
A couple of hours later, I shuffled out of the bedroom. Jeanine snored softly in our bed, a smile on her face. I closed the door and sighed. I had done my best to wear her out, resisting when she yanked on my hair and continuing to minister to her orally. I stayed in that mode until she begged me to stop, and then we made love as slowly and tenderly as I could manage. I almost drifted off myself, but the rest of me wasn't as tired as my tongue and jaw.
I trod softly down the hallway and seated myself at the computer desk. AOL went through its paces; I declined the new scanner, was welcomed, and told I had mail. It was all spam except a forwarded joke from my brother. I laughed softly at the joke and copied it to a text file for future reference. Next, I entered the URL I had seen earlier and clicked 'go'.
A text file opened. I read Pendragon's story, from it's amusing titles to it's punch line ending. It was a clever Feghoot. It was the topic of the story that captured my imagination. Jeanine had this story opened when she asked if I thought our sex life was too vanilla. She said she was curious. Well, I was every bit as curious about this act, but… and I smiled at that 'but', like a demented Beavis and Butthead parody.
She mentioned being curious, but she didn't bring it up. Where did that place the topic? Should I mention it? Should I wait until she felt confident enough to suggest it herself?
The sound of a throat clearing three inches behind my left ear made me freeze. I didn't think to clear the screen, or minimize it. I was plainly caught with my hand in the cookie jar and crumbs on my lips. I guiltily said, "Hi, sweetie. Feeling rested?" Busted.
"I woke up lonely and craving you and chocolate," she replied. Since you weren't where I expected you, I thought I'd settle for some m&m's. I see I didn't cover my ass well enough on the computer, though. So what are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking you want your ass covered," I answered drolly, "and not just on the computer. I confess to being mildly shocked. When you flatly turned down bondage, I never thought you'd be interested in this. You're kinkier than I thought."
She just chuckled. "I don't know that 'interested' is the right word. I'm curious, yes, but not eager or insistent or anything approaching that. I was going to do a little more research on the net before I discussed it with you. You've never brought it up, and I was curious about that, too."
"Consider the subject open for discussion. I've never tried this. Beverly thought it was dirty and perverted." I don't normally bring my previous Significant Other into our conversations, but I figured it would explain my reticence. "I take it Brian wasn't into it, either." I don't normally mention her previous SO, either.
"Oh, he wanted to try it, all right, but back then I thought it was dirty and perverted, too." She shifted her voice to a bad Elvis impersonation. "Come on, baby, lemme fuck you up the ass. You're gonna love it," she mimicked. "I wasn't so sure, and that clever way he had with words didn't convince me otherwise." By this time, she had pulled a chair over to the computer and sat facing me. "But you've never pushed, and Brian left me with the distinct impression that all guys craved this. I'm curious about that, too."
I swiveled in my seat to face her. "I won't lie. It's something I'd like to try. I would have brought it up in time, when I felt more confident about us. Beverly made me a little gun shy, is all, and it's something I could live without if you didn't want to. I brought up bondage, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did. Someday I might let you bring it up again," she dismissed it. "Or I might bring it up. That topic is tabled for now. Does that make you insecure about us? I didn't mean for it to." She leaned forward to plant a kiss on my nose. I intercepted it with my lips, and our tongues somehow got involved. That lasted a while, and then she leaned back, grinning.
"I love you, kinky woman."
"I love you, too, kinky man."
I liked that a lot more than 'vanilla man'. I grinned. Then I remembered something. "You said, before we got sidetracked, that we needed something from the store. If I'm going to the store, maybe we need to table this while the stores are still open." Stores in our dinky town close quite early, except the convenience stores, and they don't have a lot of selection.
Jeanine blushed. "I was thinking out loud. I was reading that story," she nodded at the screen, "and I was thinking that we needed lubricated condoms and lubricant, or some such." She blushed deeper. "I didn't actually mean to send you for them just then."
"Send me for them! Why couldn't you buy them?" I teased.
"I might not have any problem buying the condoms. But - 'Analease'? I'd die of embarrassment." I didn't think she could blush any deeper. "It's one thing to think about anal sex, but to have a clerk know you're about to get buggered? I'd never be able to face them again."
.... There is more of this story ...