The Wife
Time is a master magician. One day passes and then two, and before long you wake up and you barely recognize yourself anymore. Good friends have become old acquaintances and great lovers have become nothing more than fodder for great stories.
I had been gone from my job as an IT Specialist for several years. I had moved off and started going to a nearby college. I didn’t talk much to the folks back home. I would see Kira out from time to time when I came back to town, we’d exchange pleasantries and like clock work she would end up taking my cock in the parking lot.
During one trip back I noticed the banter was off and she was a little distant. I had been drinking for a while and I was a bit handsy. Kira had curves. Typically, she liked me to play with them, she said it made her feel owned, like she was mine. This night though, she kind of shied away. I tried to get her to open up and tell me what was going on but she refused. I told her to come outside, she was a little reluctant but she followed slowly. I could sense conflict in her, but wasn’t sure what to make of it. I led her out to road that ran behind the bar and to my car, I bent her over and pulled her pants and panties down to her knees and then pushed inside of her. She wasn’t as engaged or animated as she normally was, as I was getting close to climax, she had asked me not to cum in her. This was a huge departure as she knew where I came was pretty important to me, and I didn’t like to have that dictated. I pulled out and just didn’t finish. I puck my package back in my pants, and asked again if everything was alright.
“You can finish,” she had said as she bent back over the car. “Or, you want me to blow you?”
“Nah, I’m good,” I had replied with obvious concern in my voice.
There was an awkwardness, it was like watching something that had run its course and you knew the end was near. Kira shimmied her pants up and over her ass and hips. She grabbed and held on to me. It was a tender embrace. We stood there for a moment, before she reluctantly pulled away. Kira kissed me on my cheek like she had done so many times before and then she disappeared into the night.
I didn’t see Kira for a long while. She had gotten married and started school. Every so often I would get a three-a.m. call, but no one spoke. Looking back, I think it was her way of letting go.
I found myself moving back to my hometown a couple years later. I had gone for a routine visit to a dentist and as I was waiting in the waiting room Emily had come in with her oldest son. She had two kids now she had said.
“A boy and a girl,” she offered.
I smiled, we bantered back and forth about nothing of significance. She asked if I had seen Kira.
“Not in a while,” I had replied.
“She’s married with a kid,” Emily said.
I nodded.
“I see her pretty often,” Emily started. “We go to the same church. So, the only orgy’s we attend anymore are pot lucks.”
I chuckled politely. It was cute that she tried to make a connection between our past and her present.
“How things change,” I said followed with a low deliberate laugh.
Emily looked me over. I could still see that same look of longing that she had always had. I’m wasn’t sure if it was there when she walked into the office or if seeing me had rekindled those old memories.
“About the only excitement I get these days is running after my two,” she said. “Who would have thought it.”
“I had a sneaky suspicion,” I said.
“You may have known, she responded. “No one else did. I think you’re the only person that saw me for me. Not even Blake really see’s me.”
“Talk to him,” I directed. It had come out more like and order than a recommendation or advice.
Emily cast her eyes over to her son who was playing with a set of blocks on the other side of the room.
“I’m sorry how that sounds,” I said. “It’s none-”
“Oh no,” Emily countered. “I like it. It shows you still care.”
I thought to respond that I would always care, but thought better of it.
“I miss that,” she offered. “I miss those good kicks in the pants. That direction.”
I looked her over. She wasn’t the girl I had known. She was now full bodied and rounder. She had curves she hadn’t had before. Her hair was longer, a bit more unkempt, no doubt from having less time to care for herself. She looked good. She looked grounded.
“Bo,” I heard my name called and knew it was my turn to go back.
I stood up. Searched for something impactful and meaningful to say. Some, lasting piece of wisdom I could offer. Emily rose and moved towards me. She kissed me on my lips and then hugged me.
“MILF,” I whispered to her.
She busted out laughing and a smile beamed across her face.
“Don’t tempt me,” she said.
Time has a way of humbling you. On the way home from the dentist I looked in the rear-view mirror and I could see the effect of time etching its way into my face. My hairline had receded and I was reconciling who I was now, versus the man Emily and Kira had both known. In some way’s I was the same, but in even more way’s I was different. Experience had formed and hardened me, but also made me more able to commiserate. I thought about Emily, her development from the whore I had known into this homemaker she had become. I knew the cooking, cleaning, and raising kids didn’t hold the same excitement, the life she had once known. They were night and day. She looked good though, she looked like she belonged there in that place in time and in that life. It made me happy to know that in some small way I had helped her on that course.
I smiled.
I was awakened about 3 a.m. to my phone blaring my Marvelous 3, “Freak of the Week” ringtone.
“Hello?” I asked in a groggy voice.
There was a long pause.
“How are you?” I barely audible voice said.
“Kira?”
“Yea.”
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Everything okay?”
“No.”
“What is it?”
“Can I come over?” Kira asked.
“Yea, sure,” I responded.
Kira mentioned she’d be over in a few minutes. I hadn’t thought about whether she new where I lived. She must have since she didn’t ask. I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I was just about to put some pants and a shirt on when I heard the knock at my door.
Perhaps it was the excitement, but I immediately rushed to the door and opened it. Kira smiled when she saw me in nothing but my boxer-briefs.
“Mmm…” she said as she walked in.
“Come on in,” I said after the fact.
Kira looked around the living room like she was taking the place in. I anticipated she would sit on the couch but instead she moved into the kitchen and then into the back of the house and then to my bedroom. She turned the light off and then looked to me. Without a word she unbuttoned a plain white blouse and let it drop to the floor. Her chest was bare and exposed. She pushed her black yoga pants down to her knees and then used her left foot to pull them off. She stepped forward in the long sliver of light that creeped into my bedroom from the private bath.
Kira’s breasts were more rounded and fuller than I had remembered. Her young virginal mound had been overgrown by a dark bush. It seemed more fitting. She wasn’t the girl I had met those years before; she was now a woman.
“I’m yours,” she said.
I considered her words. I let her linger there in the center of the room, in full sight of me. I studied her. I could see the vulnerability in her eyes. I could her want as well. I didn’t know what had led her to this moment, to this bold declaration. I had to think that she had never fully let go of what there once was.
Time had changed her body, and likely her mind. It had changed me as well. I had come to understand myself better. I understood my dominance. She could say she was mine, but was she really? I knew there was a distinction between truly possessing someone and playing at it. I needed to know if we were playing or we were real thing.
I stepped forward and cupped her breast in my hand. It felt softer and hung lower. I then courted the perimeter of her breast and side with my hand and settled my hand on her hip. I grabbed her ass. It still had some of the firmness I remembered, but it was now blemished and dappled.
“You’re a woman now,” I told her.
She didn’t respond.
I looked her in the eye as I pushed two fingers inside her. She was tight, just as I had remembered.
“No one’s been inside me but you and my husband,” she offered.
I nodded and removed my fingers. I used my index finger to trace the c-section scar just above her hip. This was the first time she flinched. She started to cover it up, but caught herself and put her arms back to her side.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“You,” she quickly responded. She got me.
I had laid back on the bed and let her service me. It was 3 a.m. and I wasn’t looking to pull a marathon sex session. I also got the feel that she wanted something a bit softer and intimate. I saw this more as a rekindling, but also the start of something new. I was more direct with her, but I let her play. She devoured my cock. Pushing it deep into her throat and all the while maintaining eye contact with me. She worked my sides of my shaft like only she knew how.
“Sit on it,” I told her.
Kira was quick to push herself up, her body brushed against mine. She gave me a quick kiss before she settled her backside against my erect package. She reached beneath her and took me in her hand, she was gentle and rubbed my head against her warm welcoming slit my precum acting as a natural lubricant. I throbbed hard in her hand and she smiled. I could only imagine she hadn’t handled such equipment in quite a while. She pressed my engorged member against her sweet crevice but met resistance. She steadied herself and tried again, but she was too tight.
Kira leaned forward and kissed me again. She then nestled her head into pillow and nuzzled into the space above my shoulder.
“Do it,” she said.
I knew what she meant and I placed my right hand on her left hip and used my left hand to guide my cock up and against her vagina. I manipulated her hips to the side and worked my head in about and inch. I placed my other hand on her hip and in a quick thrust I tore through whatever resistance her lady bits could muster. My cock claimed the day with a force that sent Kira screaming out. She hadn’t been penetrated this deep in years.
It was never my intent to cuck her husband. To be honest, he never even entered into my mind. In a way Kira had always belonged to me. It was a truth he had accepted long ago when he decided to play second fiddle. He would welcome her with open arms even though she smelled like sex, my particular brand of sex. He never mattered to me. That probably sounds arrogant, a bit assholish, and yes to some degree it is. I had a code though, and in my mind she was mine. He had encroached on that long before. I never coerced her or asked her to choose. I always knew what the choice would be. I kept my distance, because I respected her. Yet, her she was, shivering on my cock. Acting as if she hadn’t had a good hard dicking in ages. She needed to be reminded what it was like to feel, to be needed and wanted. She needed to serve. And serve she did.
Kira’s insides felt like they had when I first fucked her. It didn’t take long before I was having to use my hands to guide her motions and control her rhythm. I wanted to milk it for all it was worth, and from the look on her face I don’t think she minded. She had cum quick, perhaps it was the bult up anticipation and the release of anxiety, but after my third for forth pump she loosened up nicely. There was the perfect amount of friction against the bare skin of my cock. She knew that when I started to manage things, I was getting close.
“One more minute,” she said between low guttural moans.
I nodded.
“I want to taste you,” she followed up.
I nodded again.
I let her ride until her legs began to quiver. Her mouth dropped and jaw went slack. She pushed back and sat up straight, driving my eight inches deep inside her. She came and then collapsed atop me. She breathed heavy as she intermittently thrust her hips back and forth. She was keeping pressing on my cock and keeping me erect.
After catching her breathe she slid down and cleaned my cock with her mouth. She used her hand to stroke me until I came. She savored every drop and milked me much as I had her. Only hers was more tangible. Hot, sweaty, and exhausted she crawled next to me and was soon asleep.
When we woke the next morning there was a sense of urgency. She was late, but she had a bounce in her step. She no longer seemed defeated, she seemed rejuvenated. I had joined her in the shower, made a quick deposit.
“I just want to feel you inside,” she has said.
I was happy to oblige. I snapped some pictures of us in varying stages of lewdness, and in very short order she was having to rush out of the door and back to her life. I wasn’t sure when I would see her again. I just knew I would be seeing her again.
Not long after Kira had left, I heard another knock on my door. I had expected it to be Kira, perhaps she had forgotten something or decided to write returning to her normal life for a few more hours. I was surprised to see that it was Emily.
I invited her in, and in a attempt to be transparent I let her know Kira had just left. She nodded like she knew.
“I told her where you lived,” Emily said. “I knew she was coming. I talked to her after I saw you at the dentist.”
This made sense, and I had kind of put that together.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” she said.
“Same reason Kira was just here?” I asked.
“I think so,” she answered.
I laughed and thought back to the first time Emily had come to visit. Kira had come in twenty minutes after Emily had left. There was symmetry there. I think sometimes the universe sends us signals at the moments we most need them. The importance of this all being equal, Kira being here first, and Emily arriving right after, versus how it went down in the past wasn’t lost on me.
Emily took my hand and much like Kira had done she led me back to the bedroom. She stood near where Kira had declared she wanted to be mine just hours before. Her white shorts hit the ground, and then her grey T-shirt. He covered up, and I thought to correct her, but I couldn’t connect with her. Emily’s eyes shifted and searched the floor. I could sense doubt in her. I stepped to her and she stiffened. I touched her and it was cold. There wasn’t the warmth I had felt with Kira. There was a distance there, an almost palpable sense of foreboding. I lifted her head and our eyes finally met, and where in Kira’s eyes I had seen want I saw tears.
I pulled her close and hugged her. She returned. The coldness of her body consumed me.
“I don’t know what I want,” she confided. “I want to, I do.”
“It’s okay,” I consoled.
“You can have it if you want it,” she offered. “Not sure you do?”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked firmly. “Why wouldn’t I want you?”
She shrugged dejectedly.
I grabbed her breast. They soft and flatter than I had remembered. Her belly had stretch marks. I turned her around and her ass sagged. I’m sure that’s what she saw. Just the imperfections.
I took her hand and ran it across my bare scalp, and then ran her hand across the lose skin of my face. I worked her finger into on the creases on my forehead and then I poked out my stomach and pushed her away. The point was that time had been unkind to both of us.
She laughed.
I led her to the bed and we laid there talking. She missed the old and reckless days. She missed hanging out and all the things we used to do. She spoke of prom, but then the conversation shifted to her marriage and her kids. She glowed when she spoke of them. They were the lights of her life. Somewhere in the transition from our sexual exploits to her time as a mother I realized why she was here. She was still that broken girl I had met long ago. She came her expecting to speak the language our bodies had spoken so many times, but ultimately what she wanted was understanding.
“How many guys have you been with since you got married?” I asked.
She hesitated, “Two.”
“We separated after the first year, right before Caleb was born,” she offered.
“So, you tried to go back to what you knew?”
She nodded.
“It wasn’t the same,” she said. “It didn’t feel right.”
“How about now?” I asked. “Does this feel right?”
“In a way,” she answered.
She lifted herself up and looked at me.
“Let me see you,” I asked before she could speak. She pulled the cover back and showed her body to me. I felt like I could take her, have my way with her. I couldn’t.
“What are you?” I asked.
“A whore,” she answered in a way that seemed robotic and void of emotion. The excitement that word had once was gone.
“No,” I said. “Once you were. Now, you’re something else.”
She looked away. My response had stung her.
“You’re worth isn’t defined on this,” I said as I grabbed her breast.
She giggled.
“You have to accept that we change,” I said. “Nothing stays the same.”
“I know,” she offered. “But I don’t want it to change.”
“Don’t you?”
She cast me a puzzled look.
“Think about it,” I said. “What’s the most important thing in your life?”
“My kids,” she answered quickly.
“Right,” I countered. “You told me about all this fun you used to have, but you can’t reconcile that life with your kids.”
She still seemed confused.
“Okay,” I said. “Just from being around and with you, I know you are changed. I see it in your manner, in the way you talk. You’ve matured. You’ve grown. You aren’t the same. Time has changed you. Experience has changed you.”
She nodded.
“I think you’re hear because you think I offer a bit of what you feel like you’re missing,” I said. “If you want dick, I can give you dick. We can set something up. I think though, you’re at a crossroads where you have to make a decision. You came to me to help you make that decision.”
Emily laid her head on my chest and glanced up to let me know she was listening.
“I think you know the answer,” I said.
Emily nodded.
“Is it wrong that I just like being here with you like this?”
I shook my head.
“It’s not practical,” I offered.
Emily’s eyes locked with mine once again. I touched her face and she closed them.
“You’re a creature of habit,” I said. “I tried to break of some of those habits back in the day.”
“Know your value,” she said mocked. I had once uttered those lines to her.
“You’re not a whore anymore,” I informed.
“What am I?” she questioned.
“You tell me?” I asked. “You know.”
“A MILF?!” she offered with obvious sarcasm.
I gave her a quick firm slap to the ass and put on my best pervy smile.
“I’m a wife,” she offered. “But a mother first.”
“So, what are you doing here?”
She smiled and blushed. She turned away and screamed into the cover.
“I do miss your dick.”
We laid there for hours and caught up. It was playful and it was vulgar, but there was an understood line. For the first time I witnessed her exercise control, and this made me happy. He husband was offshore and was gone for two weeks, but even though she was with me, and I felt like she was invested, I could sense her thoughts were elsewhere as well.
“I’m going to have to go soon,” she said. “I want to make the kids pancakes.”
“Little Mrs. Homemaker, eh?” I teased.
“I try,” she offered.
She smiled and offered me a gentle and intimate kiss.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“You always seem to know what I need,” she said. “I didn’t expect it to go like this.”
“You expected to get fucked,” I said.
She nodded.
“It’s not all about sex,” I offered. “Sometimes it’s just about connection.”
“I know that,” she admitted. “I just needed to be reminded.”
She got out of bed and begun to gather her clothes.
“Where’s your camera?” she asked.
I pointed to the top drawer in my dresser. She pulled it out and held it up.
“For old times sake?” she asked.
Looking now at that picture right next to the one I took of her the first time she ever came to my house, there are noticeable differences. In the old picture her body is immaculate. Perfectly firm breasts, tight stomach, and flawless skin. There’s a wild look in the eyes of that girl, and a wicked smile. The woman in the other picture, is flawed and perfectly imperfect. The sense of wonder in her eyes has been replaced by a sense of stability, like she had finally found her place. She found where she belonged. The sagging skin and dimpled flesh are just testaments to that experience. I liked the woman, more than the girl. Only because I know the history.
Emily and I are now strangers. After that night, what bonds we had withered and the moments we shared have been the victims of time and age. In some ways, she will always be my whore, only that’s not who she is anymore.
