Ann & Aaron: A Husband's Tale

ANN & AARON: A HUSBAND'S TALE by Sean "This isn't right," Ann said, the words catching in her throat as she suddenly sucked in a throat full of air. "Oh, God. Oh, oh, oh, God! But this isn't right." That time the words were crystal clear. But I still didn't believe them. Not with Aaron's head between her creamy white legs, not with his tongue slipping up and down past her swollen pink clit. Not with her legs giving that little shake that meant he was hitting just the right spot. Not with her bucking and straining not to yell out in pleasure. Every now and then her eyes would open and she would look at me, look at me watching them. And in her eyes was the question: "Isn't this what you wanted?" I only looked back at my wife's beautiful face. That look said everything she needed to know, and she closed her eyes again and opened herself even more. *** Let me explain. Ann and I aren't swingers. She had never been with another man in her entire life and I had been completely faithful for our entire marriage. She was working hard even though just showing up at the office was an ordeal for her; I was staying honest and working hard myself. Things were going great. We loved each other more than anything else in the world. But there was something missing. Something I thought had fallen into the realm of impossibility. I had always, always wanted someone I cared about-someone I loved-to make love with another man. Why did I want this? Oh, the answers are buried deep in my past, where I don't even have access to them. But God, did I want it. We talked about it in bed sometimes, as new couples do when they're feeling playful, but as life had fallen into a comfortable and enjoyable routine, thoughts of her being with someone else gradually faded. Sex became a little more perfunctory, a little less important, as happens with "old married couples," as we used to joke. It was nice. It was comfortable. And our love was stronger than anything either of us had ever even thought was possible. Then the dream came, and turned everything wonderfully upside-down. *** Annie didn't tell me at first what her dream was, coming at the end of one of our delicious afternoon naps, but I could tell it was something unusual. "It was something naughty," Ann said, mock-hiding her face in the sheets. This peaked my interest, because "naughty" or "bad" thoughts had often referred to thoughts I had about her making love with someone else. Lately, they had mostly referred to chocolate and high-fat meals, which we both had a severe weakness for. "Naughty how?" "Really naughty," she said, and once again buried her face, smiling and blushing. "I had a really naughty dream." My scalp tingled, and my penis made a little jump into erectness. "You had a dream. that you were with someone else?" I asked, trying not to sound hopeful lest she feel pushed. She nodded, and dived back under the blanket. Oh, fuck yes! my mind screamed, but I struggled to get control of myself and managed to ask, "Who with?" She peeked out from under the covers. That was all she had to do. "Aaron," I said, getting harder by the second. "You dreamt you were fucking Aaron." *** Ann's history with Aaron was a complicated one, but an all-too-familiar story. She was a virginal teen, felt herself to be dowdy and unattractive (I couldn't disagree more, but that's another story), and was best friends with the virginal teen who dated Aaron, but never slept with him, waiting-as Ann did-to give herself only to the man she would marry. Aaron was a tall, slim hunk of a guy now in his mid-twenties, the kind of guy that women, young and older, find irresistible. Add in a bad-boy streak a mile wide and you had the makings of young virginal teen masturbation material, had Ann not been a bit repressed sexually. Instead, she just longed for this hot friend of hers, wanting to lose her virginity to him but always feeling he wasn't interested. But he was. She could never accept it, hanging out with him always as a "friend," but he was. He never acted on it, but laying Ann down and making love to her, if not actually being in love with her, would have been wonderful to Aaron. She kept him at arm's length, however, and it had never happened. Except in her dreams. *** My wife has the most incredible pussy any man could ask for. Clean, well- formed, tight tight tight, and with a prominent, sensitive clit. When I went down on her, as I almost always did, she was putty in my hands afterward. We had always been great lovers together, even if things had become a little routine. This time, however, was anything but routine. I was licking and caressing her like never before, asking for more and more details about her dream. Her dream in which finally, after so many years, I got to watch a beloved woman-and this was my most beloved woman ever-make love to another man, feel him inside her while still loving me. "Was he good?" I asked between long tastes of her womanhood. "God, yes," she gasped, "but not as good as you." She was a sweetie. "How did he make you feel?" Pause. Shudder. "Like the sexiest woman in the world." "You are, you know." "Noooo," she said, as she always did when presented with a compliment. "Oh, that feels so good." "Just imagine how it would feel with him doing it." I waited a second, then decided to go for broke. "How it will feel." New wetness broke forth from her, and I sopped up every drop, eagerly drinking the product of her lust for another man. "He was the one who got away," she said, the words shaky from my slipping into her, as I always did so easily after pleasuring her with my mouth. "I never had a sense of closure." I still couldn't believe we were even talking about this, let alone after her bringing it up, but I said, "You want that, don't you?" "I do. I do." "You want him inside you. Doing what I'm doing." "God, yes." "And you know I'm okay with it." She laughed. "I can feel that." She could, too-I had grown completely rock hard, and as she whispered in my ear, "Fuck me. I want you to fuck me. I want Aaron to fuck me," I spasmed and came hard inside her, her tight vagina grasping me on each pulsation. As I rolled off and we held each other, my mind raced. Hers did, too. Where did we go from here? We had our usual "It'll never happen" and "I didn't mean it. really" talk, but my mind was racing. I had to make this happen. I had to get Aaron to make love to my wife. *** He lived in St. Louis, five hours away, I knew that much. I had humiliated him the last time we had talked, two years before, when he had called for Annie and I jealously told him that she laughed about him behind his back, which was true. What was also true-but that I didn't tell him-was that she also got a faraway look in her eyes when his name was mentioned, a look that said, "I wish." I knew she was happy with me, but she had always wished Aaron had been a part of her in the most important way. Now-maybe-I could help make that happen. I started off apologizing, the way I'm so very good at, telling him it had just been my jealousy and that Ann actually wanted to talk to him again and that she missed him. "That's true?" he asked, his deep, masculine voice immediately making me wonder what I was doing. He was better looking than I was, almost ten years younger, more classically masculine than I was, and my twenty-six-year-old wife had wanted him long before she wanted me. What was I doing? Then I remembered: Fulfilling my deepest longing. And hers. "It is," I said. "In fact-look, Aaron, this is going to sound crazy, considering we're both married here-but she's told me she wants to make love to you." There was silence on the other end. "She said that. And no strings attached." "Nice joke," he said, and hung up. I called right back, and by the way he answered the phone right away-the exact way you don't when you've just hung up on someone-I knew he'd be coming to visit. *** Ann was supremely uncomfortable at first, with Aaron greeting her with a big hug and a real kiss-something they had never shared-and with me serving them dinner and basically waiting on them hand and foot. I told them I was their servant for the evening and would take care of whatever they needed. They should just concentrate on each other, I said. Ann relaxed a bit after that, but she was tensed up. Anxious? Unsure? Ready as all get-out? I couldn't tell. They barely ate. I don't even remember what I made for them to eat, only concentrating on nothing stinky like garlic so they could- As I came back from the kitchen into the living room, where they had moved after thanking me for a lovely dinner, I found them both sitting very straight on the couch, her face in his hands as he kissed her. She opened her mouth to him and he to her, and we were off. I had never been so hard in my life. I wonder if Aaron had in his. *** Ann took off Aaron's clothes first, lingering over every firm detail of the body she had always wanted to see, always wanted to feel. He has nice muscles, small but totally solid, something I had always wanted. But not as much as Ann, obviously. She ran her lips and tongue over his shoulders and down his chest, When she unbuckled his pants and let his penis free-it was not as long as mine, but it was thicker-she caressed his legs and his butt before tasting him for the first time. She looked at me only before taking him a tiny bit into her mouth, and then I was thankfully forgotten. Aaron moaned and held her head tenderly. For someone who had always been described as a bit of an asshole, he was remarkably thoughtful with Annie. Maybe because he realized she was the one that had gotten away, too. Now he straightened her up, both of them on their knees, and slipped off her shirt, revealing her uncovered breasts, which, now that she was a woman instead of a little teen, were full and shapely and quite unlike any he had ever seen. I loved those breasts, and Aaron obviously did too, taking each nipple into his mouth, sucking on them as Ann shuddered in delight. She looked at me again, but only for a second, only to see (I hoped) that I was all right. Then he undid her slacks, slid off her new panties bought for this occasion, and put his mouth on her for the first time. *** When she had finished shivering in climax, wetness seeping from her like I had never seen-and I had been down there plenty of times-Aaron straightened out and kissed her passionately. She returned it, but her body was already arching towards him. This was it. Annie, my beautiful, loving, wonderful wife, looked at me and said softly, "Is it okay?" I nodded and said, "God, I love you." "I love you," Ann said to me, and that's when Aaron slid himself inside her. She let out an "Oooh" which became an intense moan of pleasure and release. Immediately she wrapped her perfect legs around him and they began to make love in earnest. Whenever she could keep her eyes open she looked directly into his, moving with him effortlessly, their whole bodies taking each other and giving each other the pleasure they had put off for so long. I didn't even realize that I was touching myself until I came, my purpled cock head shooting out rivulets of cum. My wife, my Annie, was finally making love to another man! And I had given this to her! And she looked happy as hell. She had stopped looking over at me-which was good, considering that I was wanking myself-and had given herself over to Aaron completely. He was in her deep now, maybe not as deep as I could go but no doubt filling her in a way that I never could. His strokes became shorter and Annie lifted her pelvis to him; she knew what was about to happen. "I'm gonna cum," Aaron said, his eyes squeezing shut even though he longed to look at her. "Should I pull out?" Now Annie looked at me as she said, "Don't you dare," and slid up to meet him, up to take him inside her, all of him, his cock, his sperm, his love, his lust, everything, damn the consequences. I had gotten a vasectomy before Ann and I had even met. My sperm had never been inside her. Now Aaron's were racing toward her eggs. I came again. I fucking came again. I had a pregnancy fetish, and Ann knew that, and had given in to both of our desires by letting a very potent man cum inside of her fertile, untouched womb. Then he fell to the side, kissed her deeply once again, collected his clothes, and left-all as he had agreed to do on the phone. I wanted him to have Annie's body, but her soul and mine were still to be exclusively each other's. I lay next to my steaming hot, panting wife, and she had a wild look in her eyes. "You still love me?" she asked. "Even though.?" "Even though?" I repeated, and laughed. "How about because?" Now she laughed, and I held her, then started kissing the sweat from her shoulders, then her breasts, then her tummy. And then somewhere else. "You sure you want to do that?" she said softly. "It's probably kind of messy." "I'll be careful," I said, and slowly touched her with my tongue, smelling the musk of her love with another man, and loving every second of it. *** The next morning was a Sunday, and we stayed in bed an extra-long time, feeling each other, looking at each other, tickling and laughing and loving. She told me she felt sexier now than she ever had. And more loved by me, which made her so happy. Both of which were true. Seeing her there, knowing she was a full woman now, an experienced woman to go with her being a beautiful and smart woman, made me feel proud and stupidly happy. "I could be pregnant, you know," she said, with full understanding of what this would do to me. And it did-I was hard as steel in no time. "With Aaron's baby inside me. I'm probably going to have Aaron's baby." "I know," I said, with hot, hot images of her belly growing and her face glowing flashing in my head, "and it'll all be fine. I'll love it as I love you. But right now I want to make love to you. No, wait-I want to fuck you." I moved toward her, but she put up a hand and stopped me, laughing. "This is your fault." "What is?" "I can't have sex with you-I'm too damn sore now," she said, and we collapsed in helpless laughter, in each other's arms, holding each other and knowing we would never let go. 4030 1.16/512345