Blowjob

Rebecca mentioned something the other day when we were on the topic of blowjobs. I can't remember how we got there, but it may have had something to do with the fact that she has had her monthly visitor, and we had been out of action for what seemed like forever.

She said something like, " I got the impression you didn't want them from me anymore". This goes back to when I was still quite upset about the G fiasco, and I pulled her back up one night when she went down on me.

At the time, I felt she was doing it because I knew she had "taken care of him" in a parkade in his vehicle. In all honesty, the thought of her doing that turns me on immensely. In fact I have used the thought of her doing that as "inspiration" many a morning since.

What I didn't want was a mercy blowjob as I think many men could relate to.

Last night however, I was laying on top of her kissing those wonderful lips, and I simply said, " I really do want you to suck my cock."

She giggled, but then said seriously,
"Bring it up to me."

I leaned over her head, and she started by lightly licking my balls and perineum. She worked her way up the underside of my shaft, licking it so well. Most men should know what I'm talking about. I could spend hours with her simply gliding her tongue against the underside of my shaft and head.

Eventually, she got to my head, which I'm sure was leaking. She pulled it into her mouth. She has a way of sucking very hard without hurting me. It's like I can feel the pressure change all the way down to my testicles. Like she's trying to pull my cum from me without my help.

I had to slow it down a little, as images of her were flooding my head. Good images.. too good. I pulled away from her mouth and climbed down on top of her.

As I pushed inside her wetness, we kissed. I'm not sure why, but I noticed how warm her mouth was. It had to be because of how warm I was.

As I pumped her, I started telling her a fantasy of when we were eighteen and how I should have seduced her in my cousin's trailer one summer.

I didn't get too far into it when I was overcome by my orgasm. It didn't even sneak up on me. I just exploded. She moaned in a bit of surprise and I emptied myself into her. It was so sudden, I don't think she had a chance to cum. I'll have to make it up to her tonight

"Ask Me Anything"

Rebecca attended a play this past weekend with another former roommate. They went for drinks afterwards and the conversation had several interesting points. During their discussion, Rebecca learned that her happily married friend still fantasizes about her former boyfriend. In the same breath, she told Rebecca how she was recently running behind an athletic black man. She found herself following him, admiring his body. Her next revelation to Rebecca was, given the chance, she would have sex with a black man like this.

According to Rebecca, her friend,"S" knows nothing of Rebecca and G, except that Rebecca had met him for drinks a couple of times. She had asked Rebecca if anything "else" happened and Rebecca said no.

These two have been friends since grade school, so I have my doubts that S believed Rebecca. To be honest, I wouldn't have a problem with Rebecca confiding in her friend. I would argue they both have similar thoughts on the subject of sex and marriage. They just won't admit it to each other. ( let alone their husbands)

Last night we had an old friend and former roommate of Rebecca's, "J" over for a glass of wine. It had been several years since we saw her, and one glass soon turned into a couple bottles of red.

"J" said we need to come to her place this summer when she hosts a block party. Coincidentally, she's neighbours with G, although she doesn't know him. I made the connection in my head as she told us about the party. Rebecca said we would try to be there and I wondered how that would play out if G showed up.

When she left, Rebecca and I were all over each other in a bit of a drunken rush. As she was lying naked on her back, Rebecca said I could ask her anything, meaning about her and G. I pushed inside my wife, feeling her around me. God, she felt good. I asked her,"anything"? She confirmed it as I pumped her. Even after the wine, I needed to slow down. My mind was racing.

I felt her hard nipples on my hand and began to gently squeeze them. She used to tell me she was too sensitive there, up until about a year ago so I asked her if he was the one who taught her to like her nipples squeezed, and she nodded yes, gasping a little.

I had so many questions that used to bother me, but now turn me on. I pushed into her and asked if he pushed deep like that. She nodded again.

We were both pretty drunk, so our inhibitions were lowered. I rolled over and she climbed onto me. When I was back inside her, I asked her if she liked when he held her hips as she rode him.

Then I asked if she came with him. She rode me and said , "not always." She kept rocking on my cock, and I wanted clarification. I asked if she ever came on his cock. She answered with a "breathy" yes.

I wanted to continue, but I couldn't last. I came hard, and she followed right behind. We collapsed into each other and I told her I loved her.

Soon after, she teared up and said she loved me more than I'll ever know. I reassured her, saying that that is all I ever wanted. It is.

As long as I know she loves me above any other man, I'm comfortable and happy. I find the sex they had to be so exciting to think about, knowing she discovered new things about her body. Knowing she shared that with him and still puts me first makes me feel ... I don't know how to describe it..amazingly happy would be a start.

Her friend, S has these thoughts about other men that she won't share with her husband. I feel that now, if Rebecca had similar impulses, she would be closer to being able to share them with me. I like knowing that.

A Good Day

While I was at work, just before lunch today, Rebecca and I were texting:

Her: So I am going to lunch with R today.

Me: Who is R?

Her: Knew him in uni. Married to the truck...

Me: Oh, friend of J's?

Her: That's the one.

Me: If he's married to a truck, you'd better watch the vibe. I seem to recall this morning through my squinted eyes that you looked really good. :)

Her: You're funny. I'm in a meeting now so I'll be silent for a bit.

Me: ;)

Her: Heading over now.

Me: Where are you meeting?

Me: I'm going to get a Hungarian sandwich.

Me: Just picked you up a couple pairs of hanky pankys.

Her: C*** in B*****. Thanks for my panties. What color? :)

Me: It's a surprise. I don't think you have them.

Her: Ok, thanks!

Me: C*****? How was it?

Her: I got the #21 equivalent. It was good. (#21 is our favourite Vietnamese dish)

Me: How is R?

Her: R is the same, except he went down hill in certain areas.

Me: Lol. Such as?

Her: Seems shorter, balder, spaced teeth.

Me: Ouch. Triple threat.

Her: Ha, ha! Still nice though. Just not hot. ;)

Me: Speaking of hot, I need a model for these panties in my pocket..:)

Her: I have a white sheet for a background drop if you need...

On my drive home at the end of the day, I called the house and we had a great chat. Rebecca filled me in on her lunch. It was completely innocent, but more importantly, she shared the details. We talked, and it felt good.

Of course, since it was all innocent, there was no pressure, but what put me in a good mood for the rest of the evening was how she ended the call.

She said, " I knew you'd want to hear about my lunch date."

On another note, I shredded the G emails before I left the office.

Good Question..

Thank you for all your comments. As for why I read the emails, I think I read them in their entirety for  a couple of reasons. First of all,  I never got through all of them to begin with. It was pretty painful at first,  so I just couldn't do it.

But, I felt I needed to confront the content in the emails. Now that I have read them , and accepted the realizations I wrote about above, I do feel a lot better about this whole thing. There is even a part of me that is happy for her that she was able to experience the good things in their relationship.

Reading

I'm not sure what possessed me, but I dug out the stack of printed emails I had from November. It was the correspondence between them, and it's pretty intimate.

Rebecca won't like that I revisited it, she's very uncomfortable about the whole thing.

To be honest, I never read through them completely the first time around. I guess this was more of a test as to whether any of it bothers me now as much as it did before.

The emails weren't that graphic in nature sexually, but it is the intimacy that strikes home for me. When I originally brought up the idea years ago that she could take a lover, she said it would never happen because she needs to care about a man she sleeps with.

Again, it was the intimacy in her words that caused the pit in my stomach. That was the reason I needed it to end. It was her expressions of affection that made me "chicken out". Trust me, I have often thought I should have kept my mouth shut and let them carry on.

The words I read today reaffirmed to me that I made the right decision.

When I asked her about her feelings back in November, she said that those words were just a game for her, and that she didn't have any deep feelings for him. Of course this contradicts her comment years ago about having to care for someone before having sex.

The truth is out there, and it probably goes something like this: She did or does care about him, but felt she had to save my feelings at a time when I was pretty devastated.

The alternative is that she got past her need to have feelings for a lover, and it was all about the sex.

I know what I believe. To be brutally honest, I love her because she is the type of woman who needs to care about someone. But that's also why it hits me so deeply. I now know she's capable of caring for someone else. It's not necessarily a bad thing, providing she isn't swept away from me. She wasn't.

The internet is crawling with "slut wives" and the like. What makes Rebecca so special, and what made this so amazingly gut-wrenching is that she is anything but a slut. Her caring for G was just another level of sharing her I couldn't handle, but yet was something I craved. Hell, I still do. And I still can't. Go figure.