Bombshell in the Berkshires - Sex Stories

Bombshell in the Berkshires

... Although our bodies were in the same bed, the distance between us, both emotional and actual, felt like you could drive a big rig through the gap. I didn't sleep a whole lot, and it bothered me how my thoughts ping-ponged around. Mostly about Barb, her feelings, the damage I had done to the marital fabric. How I might make good, regain trust. But there was another set of thoughts that crashed through my head.

The way Roger's lips on my penis had felt so good that afternoon, coaxing semen load number two out of my cock. How I'd finished him off nice in the back of the Volkswagen, after a good long time licking those incomparable balls of his, all slick and wet and heavy with semen, with his legs out stiff and shaking at the end when he pushed his cock into my face, pumping out a good eruption of sperm. How that event might have been the last time anything like that would ever happen.

After breakfast the next morning, handled in silence, Barb turned to me.

"Let's go to the living room."

I followed her, and she settled into her favorite chair next to the fireplace. I sat on the chair on the other side, facing her.

"So Clay. Talk to me. You said yesterday you still love me, and I want to believe that. Although the evidence is against you. You've thrown a bit of a wrinkle into things."

She pursed her lips. "Why? Why? Extracurricular sex! And here I thought we were married."

She paused. "Tell me."

"We are married. It's complicated." I had certainly used ...

... that phrase before. I didn't think it was a dodge.

She sat back in her chair, with her arms crossed. Outside the day was cold and raw. More or less felt that way for me inside, too.

"You have heard about my little penis fascinations before. I've told you and not kept that a secret."

"Yes you have. I more or less assumed all that was in the past. And you wouldn't be acting on those particular urges any more. The little scene you've placed here in front of us is a bit different."

So I told her the story. About Roger and me on our hike the summer before. My little dalliance with his member. How it turned into something greater. She listened and didn't interrupt. And then I got to the delicate part.

"When Jon left home and it was just the two of us in the house, I had figured that our old sex life might return." As our second and final son, he'd gone off to college two years earlier and except for brief stays at holidays and vacations, neither of the boys had ever come back to live at home. We were official "empty nesters."

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't remember you saying anything about this."

"I didn't. But I did try, maybe not in a way very apparent to you, or with any narration, to sorta jump start things. I was hoping for a bit of our old intimacy."

"That may be true. I honestly don't remember any such attempts on your part though. You're not trying to blame me here, are you?"

"No, no. We're over forty Barb. I am still a horny guy. Maybe not like in ...