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Subject: "You Only Live Once" (Part 2) by Rod Stiffener (mf,cheat)
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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Archive name: prop2.txt (mf,wife)
Authors name: rodsti@hotmail.com (Rod Stiffener)
Story Title : You Only Live Once
== == ==
This work is copyrighted to the author. No changes may
be made to this story, and the author information must
remain intact. This work may be copied freely for non-
profit purposes only.
== == ==
************************************************
YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE
PART TWO
************************************************
She wasn't sure how to approach Virginia, though. What if
Ginny burst out laughing, said she was only joking, had just
wanted to see what Mary's reaction would be? It would be
so humiliating.
Next day they were on playground duty together.
"So ... does your husband still think I am spunky?"
"Ooh Mary! You've been giving it some thought!"
"Well, it's hard to drive a revelation like that out of your
mind."
"Our place or yours?"
"Hey! I haven't said Yes!"
"You must be about to, or you wouldn't have raised the
subject."
"All right then! My place."
"Can I come, too?"
"GINNY!!!"
Now Mary really was shocked. The idea of borrowing
Ginny's husband was already beyond the pale. Having Ginny
watch them at it was simply debauched! Besides, it would
evoke unpleasant memories of Ford Prefects.
Ginny realised she'd over-stepped the mark, and moved
swiftly to retrieve the situation.
"Fine! Whatever you are comfortable with."
She gave Mary's arm a squeeze.
"You won't regret it. He's quite good, though I say so
myself."
Saturday. By now John was bobbing up and down
somewhere on the briny deep, and the kids had been dropped
off at Pattersons. She had all of Saturday afternoon to get
ready for her guest. She thoroughly spring-cleaned the
bedroom. Got a posh dress ready, and her best knickers.
Located their one bottle of whiskey in case some extra
confidence was needed. Prepared a few snacks, as he
might want to munch on something else before he munched
on her.
Darkness had fallen (kla-donk!) when the Allen's rusty old
jeep pulled up into the drive way. He was well scrubbed up,
too. Long pants and a Hawaian shirt, beard neatly trimmed.
He had a bunch of flowers. The same kinds of flowers she
could easily have picked in her own garden, but hey, nice
touch! He brushed her cheek with his lips, and she led him
to the cool verandah to sit and see what witty repartee he
could come up with.
"Good to see you, Mary, and I must say you do look lovely
tonight."
A good start, she thought.
"Orange juice? Or whiskey?" she asked.
She hoped he wouldn't say beer, because she didn't have any.
"Whiskey and water would be great."
She did one for him and one for her, and directed his
attention to a tray of nibbles. She sat, and drew a deep
breath, inhaling the thick, heavy smells of the tropical
night; the sweet scent of flowers combined with musty earth
still damp from the downpour earlier that afternoon.
"So ... Ginny says you think I am spunky."
"Oh yes! I've thought so for quite some time."
"Do you often have your wife procure women for you that
you think are spunky?"
"Not all that often. But I fancy you something rotten, and
since we leave very soon I thought, well, its now or never!"
"I can't believe that Ginny doesn't mind you carrying on like
this!"
"This is nothing. We were living on a commune back in
Australia. Half the time nobody knew whose kids were
whose. Ginny and I don't feel permanently attached; in fact
we only got married so that we could qualify for the
bigger-size married quarters over here."
Mary found this all quite mind-blowing. I mean, she had
read about communes and such, but not come face to face
with any practioners of that lifestyle.
"So you don't care about the fact that I am married?"
"No, not really. As long as John won't come and shoot me,
or anything silly like that."
"Well, he might! But he is not to find out. And don't you
want to know why I am doing this?"
"Presumably because you are fond of good sex."
Hmmm, flattering himself already. Well, that remained to be
seen.
"Actually, its because I don't know if I am fond of sex, or
not."
He was quiet for as bit, probably considering how to handle
that one sensitively.
"Oh."
"You mean ... John doesn't, how should I put it, light your
fire?"
Though not familiar with the music of The Doors, Mary
knew what he was driving at.
"Well, I don't know, I mean, what's supposed to happen?"
"If it had happened, you would know."
They lapsed into silence, gazing out at the hibiscus hedge,
listening to the crickets chirping, seeing the occasional firefly
go past. This assignment would be tougher than he thought,
but he was up to a challenge.
He spoke up first.
"Shall we?"
"Lets."
They went inside to the darkness of the bedroom.
He put his hands on her waist, bent forward and kissed her
chastely upon the lips. He smelled good. Half the time you
had to remind John to go and brush his teeth first. Another
kiss, that lingered longer this time. No tongue yet, though.
His hands started wandering. Gliding up her sides, narrowly
missing her bra-less breasts under the long cotton frock she
wore. His kisses radiated outward across her cheeks, and
along her neck under her ear, his soft dry lips gently brushing
her skin.
It was hard to believe this was really happening. Familiar
surroundings, but a strange man. It was like a dream.
He was running his hands across her backside now. An
unfamiliar touch, but pleasant all the same. He was gently
biting into the top of her shoulder, and licking up to her
earlobe. Then he brought his hands up onto her breasts for
the first time.
She had a moderately-sized handful to offer in that
department, with big nipples. He seemed to like what he
found, because he spent a fair while stroking and
teasing through her dress with light caresses, while his
lips found hers again.
"Can I take your dress off?"
She was not averse to the idea. He unzipped her and she
raised her arms while he pulled everything off over her head.
At once his mouth pounced upon her chest, licking and
sucking, while fingertips traced down over her tummy roll
and lightly touched her pubic mound. All very nice, but she
wanted to see what he looked like. She started tugging at his
clothing, and he stepped back to get everything off.
Not bad, a bit paunchy but generally more athletic than John.
His ... thing, already erect, looked to be much the same size.
She got on the bed and he came and lay beside her. More
kissing of breasts and sucking of nipples, while his fingers
toyed with her mound through her panties. She grasped his
... cock, or whatever, and held it awhile, feeling it twitch
every so often.
Hello! He was on the move. Sliding down lower, tongue
licking across her stomach, tarrying awhile around her navel,
but its intention was clear.
John had never done that. He could finger-fuck with the best
of them, but had never got his face down below. Mind you,
she hadn't asked him to. She had just assumed all
along that it would gross him out. It had always been
ingrained in her to think of that part of her anatomy as
"dirty" and untouchable.
He was tugging her panties down, exposing all of her. She
lifted up her bum to help him, and next her legs were being
pushed apart and his beard was tickling her inner thighs.
Derek had clearly been ingrained differently. She was a little
nervous, but, oh well ... if he insisted!
Little dabs of tongue up either side, then he was delicately
swirling over the summit of her mound. Her clit, as usual,
was well hidden. A fact he did not seem to appreciate. He
kept up his tongue action for quite some time, and all though
it felt nice and erotic, she didn't feel that it was really
leading anywhere. She lay quite still, concentrating hard,
trying to make the most of the sensations he was providing.
He found her stillness a bit unnerving. Finally, tongue-
fatigue setting in, he pulled away.
"You're supposed to be going crazy by now!"
Am I just! She felt slighted by that remark.
He was up over her now, licking her breasts again. He
seemed to really like her breasts, especially the nipples. She
recalled that Ginny had big breasts, but small nipples. He
must like something he can really get his lips around, she
couldn't help speculating.
"Play with me, get me hard."
He directed her hand onto his ... well, you know.
She tugged on it gently, doing what she did to John when he
wanted that extra few p.s.i. of turgor pressure. His fingers
tested her opening and, finding it still wet from his
tongue-lashing, decided to plunge in.
Her overwhelming thought at that moment was a fear that
she might fart. It happened sometimes, if John used the
wrong angle. And that was okay, that was only John. They
were accustomed to each other farting in bed. This was
different; Derek may not see the funny side of it.
But she didn't fart, and he soon set up a steady rhythm,
gathering her legs up to wrap around his bum while he buried
his face in the side of her neck. Again, it felt nice. As
nice as anything she had ever done with John. But no fire-
works or explosions. The surf did not crash, the molten
larva all stayed safely stowed in its volcano.
He was enjoying himself, anyway. His panting was quite
loud in her ear, and his back was quite sweaty from his
exertions in this tropical heat. Reaching down under her
with his arms, he clutched her buttocks one in each hand,
pulling himself into her harder until their flesh was slapping
together where they joined.
Then he was going full force, thrusting hard into her,
unstoppable. She felt well and truly impaled, and as helpless
as going on a Nantucket Sleighride.
He completed the last few jerky movements of his hips, then
rolled off her to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling and
catching his breath again.
Mary closed her legs, feeling sticky and a little tender.
Was that it?
"You didn't come?" he wanted to know.
"No."
"That's odd. Usually I can make a woman come."
She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything.
He snuggled closer, holding her hand in his.
"Oh, well. We can try again later. Maybe I need to lick you
for longer."
Maybe.
Anyway, they did try again later, and he did lick for longer.
But Mary was trying too hard, and just felt herself tightening
up inside. They screwed a second time. She wasn't as turned
on as the first one, and really just lay back and left him
to it until he was done. She sensed that he was a bit
disappointed by her lack of responses.
They dozed for a bit, then he got up and dressed again. She
put on a nightie. He sat on the edge of the bed for another
few minutes, holding her hand.
"Thanks Mary. You were every bit as sexy as I thought
you'd be," he said gallantly.
"You can carve another notch on your gunbelt, then." She
found herself saying.
"Never! Mary, you are anything but a notch. Unless you
mean top-notch!"
The sound of his jeep receded into the distance.
Mary looked up at the ceiling in the darkness. Oh well, that
was her little adventure then. They say you only regret the
things you haven't done. At the same time, she didn't really
feel any overwhelming desire to ever do this again.
Suddenly, for the first time in several years, she found her-
self thinking of Hazel. Now there was a girl who seemed to
enjoy fucking under almost any circumstances. Funny how
people can be so different.
STOP and FAST-FORWARD
John ducked, and the jug she threw smashed against the wall.
Her eldest boy was wide-eyed with horror. The other two
had already run to their rooms, sobbing.
Mary was so furious with him. It had started with something
silly. She had learned how to drive now, and had wanted to
drive back from the river they had picnicked at. He liked
driving too, and thought fair's fair, it should be my turn.
His dogmatic adherence to principle was driving her nuts. He
got his own way on so many other things, why couldn't he
give in to her just this once?
Then the kids started reacting, and playing up. They wanted
icecream, they wanted this, they wanted that, they wouldn't
eat the yummy vegies she'd cooked when they got home. At
her suggestion that they eat it even if she had to ram it down
their throats, John had stepped in and said, "Now dear, I
think you are being unreasonable."
If any words could anger her more than those, she had yet to
hear them.
"You never back me up! How are we going to raise them
right, if you don't back me up?"
John refused to yield. In arguments, he had this infuriating
habit of staying so cold-bloodedly rational. Next thing, the
milkjug was history.
Her eldest now retired from the scene of the battle, no doubt
fearing a stray bullet. Mary really wanted to hurt John at
that moment, really rock him back on his heels.
"Anyway, what makes you think you're so perfect? You're a
bad parent, and a lousy lover."
"Had lots of lovers, then, have you?" he riposted, smug in
thinking that he knew the answer to that one.
"I've been able to compare. And you stink!"
She blurted it out, knowing it was a secret she should take to
the grave but unable to resist the chance to have a go at him.
"Yeah, right! When? Who?"
His disbelieving tone goaded her into further indiscretion.
"Derek Allen. November 1973. While you were on the boat
to Malaita."
Well, if she had wanted to rock him back on his heels, it had
worked. John had gone pale, and needed to sit down.
In the ensuing silence, she began to calm down. The full
import of what she'd just said was beginning to register.
She'd just put her whole marriage at risk. She sat too, and
stared out the window. No telling which way he would jump.
He stood suddenly and went down to the basement. He was
gone for several hours. Every so often she would hear the
clink of a spanner or the revving of a power tool, as he
worked on some project or other. She hoped it wasn't a
gallows.
Later, he returned and sat beside her. The kids were in bed
asleep now.
"Was Derek Allen really a better lover than me?"
"Yes, but only slightly. He used his tongue on me."
And after that had sunk in:
"Was that the only time?"
"Yes, that was the only time."
Neither of them ever raised the subject again.
PAUSE and SLOW-FORWARD
Things remained a little cool for a couple of weeks after that
last bust-up. They acted normally around the kids, but were
not affectionate with each other. Then their daughter was
found to have a cyst and needed a minor operation. The
anxiety of that particular drama pushed everything else out of
their minds, and by the time it had been satisfactorily dealt
with, their relationship was back to normal again. Well,
normal enough for sex to become a possibility.
John could be an irritating s.o.b., but there was no denying
that he thought the world of Mary. She often took the
steadfastness of his love for granted, but right now she felt
quite appreciative of it, and of him.
She had also made an intriguing discovery. Putting a packet
of sandwiches into his school satchel one morning, she
glimpsed the cover of a book that was not directly linked to
John's usual academic interests. It was called "The Joys of
Sex". She thought this to be such a typical response of his
rational mind; if there's a problem, then do some research.
She wondered what conclusions he would draw from his
review of the available literature.
Kids asleep, nothing much on television, they had begun to
snuggle. She was still the girl for him, he told her, and
always would be. They retired to their bedchamber, and
began the usual preliminaries.
He spent ages kissing her breasts. He had always been a
confirmed nipple man, and his usual practice was to linger
over her boobs while using his fingers to check down below
if she was ready or not.
But tonight was different. After ministering to her nipples
for a good long while, he left them glistening and erect while
his tongue traced over her midriff and tummy.
He had a long and pointy tongue. Sometimes to amuse the
children he would poke it right out and could make it touch
the tip of his nose. She hadn't seen anyone else who could
do that. He had hidden talents, her man did! And now that
he appeared to be on a southbound route, she wondered with
anticipation what else he could make it touch.
He progressed to the top of her mound, and began sniffing
and nibbling. Trying it, to see if he would like it, she
presumed. And he must have approved, because he was now
sliding down between her legs and licking at her inner thighs.
He'd never done anything like this before. And she'd have
been shocked if he did, when they were first married. Or
very surprised that he'd even want to. According to her
upbringing, that was an unclean area. But her fling with
Derek had opened her mind to the possibilities. It just
needed some practice, some perseverence!
And she wasn't about to stop John and question his motives
at this point. All things cum who stand and wait? She hoped
so.
He was flicking up and down her outer lips, teasing the pubic
hair there and making it wet and matted. He was close to the
goal, but not there yet, and her feeling of anticipation was
becoming intense.
The moment arrived, when he started probing at the top of
her cleft. Such a long, pointy tongue, soft and gentle, yet
firm at the same time.
It was starting to feel nice. He was not quite hitting the right
spot, but in the mood she was now in, it seemed he could not
put a foot wrong. So sensitive down there, and so delicious!
She lay back, eyes closed, and decided to enhance her
pleasure by stroking her breasts and rolling her nipples
between thumb and forefinger.
He looked up and saw this, and was momentarily surprised
that she was taking an active part in the proceedings. This
was not usual, and the thought that he was inspiring some
responses acted as a spur to his efforts.
He still hadn't quite found the spot, and the teasing was
becoming unbearable. She felt she better do something. So
she reached down and used her hands to spread herself,
parting her cleft. He saw the tip of something small and pink
pop up amongst her folds, and he was onto it in a flash.
Oh my GOD!!!
Her hips jumped, and she almost lost her grip upon herself.
It was as if lightning had just tickled her spine.
He took over, using his own hands to spread her and find the
target. She had to grab onto the bed head, as her pelvis
writhed to get more tongue against her.
Then it started. The intensity of feeling had built up until
release now felt inevitable, she was past the point of no
return. Oh please, don't stop now! She came in a heady rush
of sensation, a level of physical pleasure that she never knew
existed until that moment. Then she was coming back down
from it, and couldn't bear to have him continue. It was just
too sensitive, every neuron was on full alert. She clamped
her thighs about John's head to hold him away from her
sodden vulva.
"Wow!" he said. "Was that finally the Big One?"
She just went "Mmmmm ... ," feeling all follollopy and spent,
wrung out like a dishrag.
He had become very turned on by her reactions, and when he
moved up over her to kiss her softly, she felt something
bumping and prodding down there. He slid in easily because
she was so open and wet, and to him it felt better than usual.
Her insides seemed somehow more clingy, more elastic, and
deliciously slick. Sometimes there could be difficulty or
resistance in there, but not this time so he went for it. It
didn't take him long, and she felt close and tender feelings
for him as he got totally undignified with her. No rational,
dissecting mind was anywhere in sight. She liked being able
to turn him into such a beast.
She lay on her side with her back to him, tucked in like
spoons as he held her in his arms.
"Well?" he said. "Do we have a sex life, or do we have a sex
life?"
"We have a sex life," she said contentedly.
Yep, he certainly had the makings of talented
tonguemanship. And now at last she knew why people make
all this fuss about orgasms. Tonight had been a step
forward, all right.
Now there were just a couple of other things to sort out in
their relationship. And she'd get to them; give it time ...
PAUSE and FAST-FORWARD one last time.
People were still coming to the house. Soon there would not
be room for them all, and some would have to go out into
the garden. Just as well the weather was fine. On every flat
surface there were more plates of scones and trays of quiche
than you could shake a stick at. Her eldest son had just
phoned to say he and his wife would be flying in tomorrow
morning. There had been at least twenty calls from people in
the last hour alone.
She felt empty, numb. Almost in a daze. People talked to
her in low voices, and to each other, mostly talking about
other things. Trying to take her mind off it, and their own
minds too.
When people spoke, she put up a good show of nodding and
going "Mmmm" in all the right places. But she was
thinking back, reviewing things in her mind.
In the last few years, John had got a lot better to live with.
It had taken a long while, though, and took almost a revolution
in their domestic arrangements.
When their children reached the stage of needing to attend
*real* schools and universities, they had returned to their
native country again. There, John discovered the cost of
those years of broken service. Out of the loop for so long,
the best he could manage was occasional relieving teaching.
And snotty Westernized teenagers were a far cry from the
Pacific island students, who would so willingly spend their
vacations making copra to gain the priviledge of an
education.
Mary, on the other hand, began showing an interest in
sculpture. Initially it was because, when gouging holes in a
lump of something or other, she could imagine that it was
John's head. Very therapeutic. But she got quite good, and
began exhibiting. Then she was invited to be a tutor at an art
college, and after paying her dues for a few years she applied
for, and got, a position as a faculty member.
John took it hard at first, this reversal in their roles.
She was now the main breadwinner, which meant that now *he*
had to ask *her* for money. But she made it easier for him
by putting one quarter of her salary into his bank account
each payday. He felt so useless when out of work, as if he
were on the scrapheap.
But he cashed in his pension fund and bought a yacht. A
small keelboat, it was his pride and joy, and at least three
times a week he would be out on the water in it. Building up
an intimate knowledge of local tides and currents, he took
pride in being able to out-fox racing yachts twice his size.
And their sex had become worth looking forward to, these days.
Another breakthrough for her was getting her tubes tied. The
Pill had never ever quite felt like real protection. It was
as if there was nothing there, and she always felt nervous of
unwanted pregnancy. Nowadays, with her tubes tied, she
could really relax and get into it.
He was also better in conversation. Especially in the last few
months, she really felt that he was listening to her. Not
trying to rationally *solve* whatever problem it was, and
then being unsatisfied if he couldn't. He seemed to have
finally twigged that, half the time, she just wanted him to
listen to her. And just accept her point of view without
thinking that it had to be debated.
A policeman came to the door, bearing a big plastic bag full
of soaking wet clothes and personal items. John's Rolex
watch (funny how he never economised on things like that!),
wedding band, and wallet. She didn't know quite what to do
with the bag, and in the end just left it outside the front door
on the path.
She went into their bedroom, just to escape people for a
while. His pyjamas still lay where he had tossed them on the
floor that morning. She hated it when he always did that.
She picked them up and held them to her face. She could
still smell his smell on them.
As far as anyone could tell, there was nothing that could
have been done. He was always so cautious, and took every
possible safety measure. The weather forecast had not
predicted winds of such magnitude, or from that particular
quarter. It was just a freak. The only way to have avoided
it was by not getting out of bed in the morning. And that
was not his way.
Are you supposed to feel this empty? She felt she should be
showing more emotion than this, but didn't even feel the urge
to cry. If there was any emotion at all, it was anger.
John, you bloody idiot!
What did you have to go and die for?
____________________________________________________________
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