We were on our way home from Tom and Sally's when my wife dropped the bombshell.
"Honey, I don't think we should go there any more."
"Huh? You mean Tom and Sally's house?"
"But that's crazy! They're our best friends!"
"Well, I just don't think we should."
I was totally baffled.
"Why, Ann? Why in the world would you say something like that?"
"I just don't think we should go," she repeated.
"So what happened tonight? Did you and Sally have some kind of silent fight?"
She shook her head.
"No, we didn't fight, we never fight."
"Oh, god, it must have been something I did that embarrassed you. What did I do this time?"
Another shake of her head.
"No, you were fine."
"No reason, OK? Look, I just don't wanta talk about it."
I figured I'd better shut up, and we drove the rest of the way home in an awkward silence. When we got there she seemed cold, and I don't think she said a dozen words as we got the house ready for the night and got ourselves ready for bed. Oh, well, all married couples go through these things. But why is it that it's the husband who never has a clue as to what is going on?
When I got out of the bathroom she was already in bed, in her old flannel pajamas, yet. She had her back to me as I crawled in beside her. I wrapped my arm around her and tried to snuggle up, but she squirmed away from me.
"Good night, hon," I finally said.
She sort of grunted.
The next day she seemed to be OK, but we both avoided saying anything about Tom and Sally. In fact their names didn't come up again until Tuesday when I tried to push Ann a bit more on her reaction.
"Honey, I keep thinking about what you said about Tom and Sally, and I had this one horrible thought. Was it Tom? Did he say something or do something he shouldn't have? I mean, like try to come on to you or something?"
"No, he was a perfect gentleman, like he always is."
"So what's the problem, Ann? Don't you like Sally?"
"Yes, I like Sally."
"Don't you like Tom?"
"Tom is fine."
"So I'm OK, you're OK, they're OK. What's going on here? What aren't you telling me?"
"It can't be nothing, it's got to be something. Come on, tell me."
"I don't want to talk about it."
Then, on Thursday, Sally called while Ann was in the shower, and said she and Tom would like to come over Saturday night if that was OK. No surprise there, they only live two miles away, and we get together nearly every weekend. At least her call meant that Sally and Ann weren't totally mad at each other. That was very good in my view, because I liked both Tom and Sally, and would really miss them if they dropped out of our lives. But what was Ann going to say?
I thought for a moment of calling to her in the shower, and asking if it would be OK, but I realized that would sound really negative to Sally on the other end of the line.
So, trying not to leave an awkward pause, I blurted out, "Sure, we'd love to have you."
Sally probably noticed the lack of a dinner invitation, but she just said, "How does eight sound?"
That was my cue to ask them for dinner, but I decided not to push it, and responded, "Eight will be great."
I tried to be very casual about it when Ann came out of the shower.
"Oh, by the way, Sally just called and said they wanted to come over Saturday night. I told them that would be fine."
She bristled immediately.
"I told you, I didn't think we should see them any more."
I tried to escape by being logical which, by the way, guys, never works on a woman.
"No, what you said was that we shouldn't go to their house any more. Since the problem isn't them and it isn't us and it isn't how we feel about them, I had to assume that the problem was their house."
"That's stupid," she snorted.
"Well, OK, maybe I didn't think it out very well. She asked, and I wanted to see them, so I said yes. Now I think it's time you get over your hang-up, whatever it is, and at least pretend to be a good hostess Saturday night."
She glared at me but didn't say anything more.
Saturday night went reasonably well. I was watching Ann carefully, and did notice that she was less talkative than usual, and kept her eyes downcast a lot of the time. But we all played Pinochle together and laughed and joked. I think Tom and Sally both noticed the difference in Ann, because they both tried to be particularly attentive to her.
The evening went quickly, and they left about eleven. As always, Sally and Ann hugged good bye, and then Sally turned to me and Ann turned to Tom. Again, as always, I hugged Sally, nuzzled her cheek a bit, and gave her a quick kiss on the mouth.
After we broke apart I looked over at Tom and Ann to see that they were still going through the same ritual. Well, actually, they had already gotten to the quick kiss part by the time I looked, and it did seem like they held it just a bit longer than a strict construction of 'quick' would suggest. But certainly nothing very extreme.
The moment they were out the door Ann flung herself at me, wrapped her arms tightly around me, and started kissing me passionately. Any tingle of jealousy I might have felt a moment earlier evaporated instantly. Now, this was a kiss!
She pressed her body against mine, and I started sliding my hand up and down her back. When my hand finally made it down to her ass, her pelvis started undulating enthusiastically. I brought my other hand around to cup her bra, and her tongue started driving itself in and out of my mouth. I got an almost instant hard-on, and as soon as she felt that she wrapped one leg around me and started rubbing her pussy up and down my shaft as best she could through four layers of clothing.
That was more than I could stand. I pulled her down to the floor and started ripping her clothes off. She did the same thing with my clothes, and in less than a minute she was rubbing her pussy up and down my quivering cock with nothing between them but slime. The slime I'm talking about is what was coming out of her pussy, because when I got my hand down there I found that she was dripping wet.
She started screaming as soon as I stuck a finger up her cunt and pressed on her clit with my thumb. She rolled me on my back, straddled me, grabbed my cock, and sank down on it. The moment she had me all the way in her she started coming. Not only could I hear it in her screams and see it in the violent jerks of her body, but I could also feel it as her cunt twitched, and twitched, and kept on twitching.
This was all too fast for me. I wasn't nearly there yet, but that didn't matter. Once she calmed down it became obvious that this was only the first act.
She started moaning, "Fuck me, fuck me, " and I was all too happy to oblige.
I was finding it very strenuous to hump up into her from my position flat on my back, so I managed to roll over her and went to work in earnest. I was going faster and faster, and it wasn't long before I started squirting into her. Her body responded immediately with a second massive climax.
We finally calmed down and discovered that we were lying in a tangle of clothes not six feet from the front door. We didn't care, preferring to continue lying there kissing tenderly with her legs wrapped around me and my soft prick still inside her. Maybe half an hour later we finally separated and she made a quick dash for the bathroom while I picked up all of our clothes, carried them into the bedroom, and dumped them on the floor there for later sorting.
We then crawled naked into the bed together and back into each other's arms.
"Wow," I said, "I think that was the best sex we've had since our honeymoon."
She purred and said, "Actually, for me it was even better than during our honeymoon, though that was great. But remember that night before we were married, when we borrowed Tony's apartment for the evening?"
"Do I ever! We were both wild animals that night!"
"That," she said, "was the best sex I ever had in my life ... until tonight."
"Baby, I don't know what triggered it tonight, but whatever it was I hope it keeps on happening."
She was quiet for a bit, then whispered, "Actually, I think I do know what did it, and I guess I'm going to have to tell you."
I waited a long time, but she didn't say anything more, so I felt I had to encourage her.
"Whatever it was, don't be afraid to tell me. It just gave us one fantastic time together. So what was it?"
She hesitated a bit more.
"It was Tom and Sally being here."
"Huh? OK, if you say so. But, Ann, don't you feel a bit stupid now about not wanting them to be here?"
"I was afraid, and I still am."
"Afraid," I wondered aloud. "Afraid of what?"
"Afraid of my feelings."
And then it all poured out.
"Last week when we were at their house I started having these really sexy thoughts about Tom. And then when we said good night and I kissed him I wanted so bad to make it a super passionate kiss, and I almost couldn't stop myself.
"That's why I told you we should stop seeing them. It wasn't that I wanted to stop, but I didn't trust myself.
"Tonight was even worse. I kept imagining that he had this absolutely monster dick, and that he was ramming it in and out, in and out of me all night long. And when we kissed good bye ... I ... I actually come just a little bit. And that was why I needed you so much."
I was stunned. I had no idea.
Finally I said slowly, "You know what? I think I know, just a little bit, what you're going through."
.... There is more of this story ...