Like a bad country song, we knew things were not going 'right'. We endured and 'loved' each other in a platonic sort of way, indicative of a couple who had two children together. It was, however, becoming more and more clear that there would be no more sexual liaisons now that we had the kids. Life got more and more strained as we tried everything from counseling to dating each other. Your background had shown through, and I was aware you had been taught that sex was dirty and only for the procreation of children. Now we had children, now we had no further sex life.
Imagine my amazement when you started speaking of a co-worker. It seemingly took you months to lay what I learned was 'groundwork'. Over a lengthy time frame you introduced the idea that I should help this lady. She, as I said, was a co-worker who was a divorced mother of two grown children. Even though she was a good ten years older than me, she had a personality and figure to die for. Her long legs gave way to beautiful thighs, a slim waist and perky breasts. She had glistening reddish hair accentuating a long, attractive face.
You had her join us for dinner and outings several times, although in my density I did not see or expect where it was headed. During one of these outings Jo wore a very revealing outfit. I readily admit I was enjoying the views and made sure I helped her from the car. She, in turn, made sure she swung her legs out slowly, deliberately letting me see all.
At dinner that evening, I sat across from my wife with Jo to my right. Multiple times I felt her leg pressing against mine. At first, believing it an accident, I moved away. She followed. The attention, the physical attention felt so so good. Giving in, I moved my leg against hers. The feelings experienced had not been felt in so long.
During dessert she brazenly touched my hand gently. Almost whispering with glistening eyes, she told me of a problem with a ceiling fan at her home and wondered if I would come by Saturday morning. Without hesitation, my wife responded for me asking ''What time would you like him there?'' Jo responded she would be up early and the coffee would be on.
I was a bumbling case of nerves, not knowing what to expect; hoping what I would like to have happen. Like a good boy, I rang the bell shortly before 9 with tool box in hand and a single rose.
Jo answered the door in a pair of shorts that were short, but not too short, and a blouse with the top three buttons open. She greeted me with a light kiss on the cheek, although she did that with my wife present so it did not surprise me.
She led me to the kitchen where we had coffee and talked. Her fingertips danced on the back of my hand and arm. Her leg pressed against mine. She dropped her napkin and slowly bent to pick it up before I could react. This motion made it clear that not only were the buttons open, there was no bra underneath. She smiled impishly and asked if I liked what I saw. I think my expression probably answered far better than words ever could.
Jo refilled my coffee and told me she knew I was married yet very alone. She also worked into the conversation how alone she felt.
Feelings, urges were building within me not felt in years, yet I kept having that nagging apprehension. Hell, I am married to a Church pastor.
During all this, I had been scanning the ceiling fans in the living room and dining room. Both seemingly were working perfectly. Finally, I asked where the problem fan was. Jo responded that it was upstairs. Grabbing my tool box, I followed her up the stairs, my eyes stuck on her shapely butt and toned thighs.
Well, the fan turned out to be her bedroom fan. She said that it had an annoying vibration and buzz. Climbing on her bed, I laid my hand on the fan hub and asked Jo to turn it on. Imagine this - I neither felt nor heard any abnormality. When I said this Jo responded, 'Let me help you'.
There I was, arm extended, touching the fan and this beauty climbs on the bed and presses herself against my back, running her hand up my arm, then moving my hand around on the fan housing. Sort of stumbling, she put her other arm around me, letting her hand fall on my now hardening cock. Shaking with excitement, I told her I still did not hear it, but, in a Freudian slip, said I felt plenty. Jo told me sometimes it took a few minutes to start the vibrations as her hands moved on my chest and teased at my now rigid cock.
Without a word, she pulled me down to the bed. Almost instantly, our lips locked together in that first real kiss. Equally quickly, the 'first kiss' became a deeply passionate, mouth open, tongues entwined kiss of two lovers.
Our hands moved all over each other. As I unbuttoned and took off Jo's blouse, she took my head in her hands. Gasping, she guided me over her body, holding my mouth where she wanted special attention. It had been oh so long for both of us.
I tasted her, sucked at her nipples. Then she opened her legs, telling me she wanted me to pleasure her with my mouth, kiss her to orgasm.
We did kiss again and again. Then my head slipped to her inner thighs. Kissing her thighs, I moved higher until the warm dampness from her body captured me and pulled me to her honey. My mouth covered the entrance of her love canal. Kissing and touching, I pressed against her. My hands opened her, then my tongue darted in. So good, so wonderful.
As I kissed her clit, my fingers probed inside. I watched in awe as her own hands danced on her breasts, playing with, torturing her nipples. Her first orgasm with me was just as I am describing. After she came the second time, we kissed as she guided me into her heat. Slowly, I moved in her, wanting it to last. This time, as we kissed, she stammered,"Wait,babe." [The name 'Babe' remained from then on through our relationship.]
Pausing on her, I lifted slightly, again the impish look. We awoke. The fan was not vibrating.
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