Thirty-Five Years
Brings Déjà vu to Reality
By H.G. Hunt
Chapter 21
On the drive back home Brent and Jean jabbered nonstop. The
events as they unfolded had released Jean from her decades
old bondage and yearning. She felt free. She knew Brent had
a fantasy fulfilled like none before. She recognized the
threshold that had been crossed regarding their shared
sexuality and that there would be no going back to “life as
it was” before. Yet even if there were never to be any
reoccurrence of similar events, the reward from what had
happened today would be with them for the rest of their
active sexual lives. The power of her victory, as razor thin
as it was, had elevated her understanding of desire, lust,
expression, and determination to keenness she’d never
comprehended prior.
The hour that it took them to make it home was not enough to
relive the entire afternoon, but they tried. Jean answered
questions about moments of doubt that were prevalent for
much of her contest with Lisa. Jean confirmed that doubt had
crept into her mind from time to time, but that she never
felt like a crisis was imminent. She also acknowledged how
totally involved she was in giving and receiving pleasure
with Lisa. Her ancient interlude that had been only a
“talking point” in their reminiscences and fantasies had now
blossomed into a real-life transcending event. She openly
gushed to Brent about how sexy Lisa was and how the hatred
she felt for her was all mixed up with the lust she felt.
Where one ended and the other began she could not identify.
One of the more intriguing admissions was the fact that not
all the events he had witnessed were exactly as they had
seemed to be. She allowed that the orgasm that she had
earned on top of Lisa, and by extension with Brent, was not
her first of the afternoon. “I had an orgasm when I was
fucking Bill.” She hoped Brent wouldn’t be offended, with
him knowing that never in their years of marriage had she
ever come without some sort of clit play. “And that isn’t
all. I came when Lisa fucked me with that wine bottle too.”
Brent was flabbergasted to say the least. Not offended, just
stupefied. He shot her a quizzical look as they cruised down
the highway. She smiled at him and tried to explain. She
wasn’t philosophizing, but simply trying to put into words
what had happened.
“Those orgasms were different than any I’d ever had before.
They came on more slowly, not like a huge tidal wave, but
more like the gentle tide coming in. It was as if I could
control it. It felt so good, both times to be impaled like
that, in front of everyone including you; first by the
bottle and then by Bill’s thick hard cock. They were two
small moments of vulnerability and they sent me into an
almost cerebral orgasm. They both flowed long and lazy
through me for nearly a minute before they subsided. I
really, really loved them. But I don’t think anyone
recognized that I was having them. They didn’t set off my
usual post-orgasmic sensitivity that would have forbid me
from continuing. They just sort of washed away. It was
great; knowing I was in control like that.”
“Wow!” was all Brent could muster in response. He wasn’t
offended in the least. To him it was almost a relief to find
out that there was another layer of arousal that had just
been awakened in his wife. He hoped that it would
precipitate moments that he could tap into in the future.
The fact that the admission revealed a very different
context for Jean’s victory over Lisa was not lost on Brent.
But he didn’t question Jean about that at all. For her part,
there was no second guessing the fairness of her victory at
all. To her it was purely a matter of control, whether it
was the self-control she’d shown herself by hiding her
orgasm, or the control both physical and mental she managed
over Lisa in portions of the fight.
Jean questioned Brent about his perceptions too. He revealed
much, including the aching blue balls he struggled with for
over an hour. He revealed in honesty that he had been
worried at times that Jean might lose, and he hoped Jean
wasn’t offended by his thoughts. She was not, but it did
re-emphasize for her that those moments of doubt that had
crept into her own thinking during the fight were probably
apparent to the others as well, and that to an “outsider” it
must have seemed as though the outcome could have gone
either way. She had sort of blocked out the loss to Lisa in
the titfight and it made her recoil a bit when Brent brought
it up. He also brought up what he considered as a likely bit
of information that to him was the only discernible tidbit
that to an objective observer might have tipped the scale in
Jean’s favor. He had no way of knowing how much Lisa
weighed, but he was a good enough judge of women’s bodies to
recognize that Jean had more body mass and heft than Lisa;
how much he knew not, but he wasn’t surprised when his wife
felt offended when he mentioned it to her.
“What the fuck? You think I only beat her because I weigh
more? That’s bullshit. I beat her because I beat her. I
fucked her over and made her cum with my pussy pounding her
pussy. She just isn’t the woman I am.” She didn’t despise
Brent over the remark, but she wasted no time in “setting
him straight” on the matter.
With the honesty they were sharing, Brent offered his own
admission. Describing their final humiliating rendezvous
atop Lisa’s reclining body; him with his cock buried to the
hilt in her pussy and Jean riding roughshod over her face,
he sheepishly confided to Jean what a terrific fuck it had
been.
“When I was fucking Lisa, it felt like a swarm of little
pythons were squeezing my dick. She was so wet and so
incredibly tight. It felt like she never wanted my cock to
leave. I was in heaven and I didn’t want to come at all. I
just wanted to fuck her and fuck her and fuck her forever.
She was fabulous.”
He worried over Jean’s response, but felt good that he had
gotten that off his chest.
Jean just smiled across the console at him; a far-off look
in her eye and not a hint of disapproval. “Well, I guess
we’re even then. ‘Cause you know what. Her tongue gave my
pussy the best god-damned licking it’s ever had. The
perfection of her technique pushed my orgasm to heights I’d
never known existed before… No offense Brent.”
He laughed out loud. They both had made equally dangerous
admissions about their feelings for how Lisa had given them
both their most erotic and fulfilling sexual stimulation of
their lives. Yet neither was offended by the thought. The
strangeness of what had just happened didn’t even sink in as
they glided down the highway.
Lisa’s drive home alone was yin and yang. She groaned over
the humiliation of the loss, yet thrilled at the overall
experience; recognizing the supreme fulfillment that had
consumed her in the moments throughout the fight. She
wondered if she’d ever do it again. She wondered what was
going through Jean’s mind right now. She ached over the
disparity between her expectation of showing off her sexual
prowess in front of the friends she’d invited and the
reality of watching Jean give and receive so much pleasure
from the throng. She reminisced about the intensity of
feelings she had felt when the couple had mounted her. She
remembered almost gagging when the man-juices seeping out of
Jean’s wet cunt had wickedly crowded into her throat. She
vividly recalled the oxygen depravation and the exhilaration
and almost euphoria it had produced. She took a few deep
sucking breaths and could instinctively remember the scent,
odor, and taste of Jean’s slutty cunt. And yet none of that
turned her off. Deep in her gut she even felt jolts of
re-emerging horniness. Her breath became ragged. It wasn’t
texting, but she began using her fingers in a way that
prudent drivers would do well to avoid, especially at 70
mph. She managed to keep the car under control, but the ride
home produced at least two more orgasms sprung from the
surging hormones that just wouldn’t die down.
TO BE CONTINUED