章 2770: NURSED BACK TO HEALTH
I sat grumpily in my recliner, feeling my pain medications slowly wear off. It was the first day back from the hospital after having surgery. I'd had sleep apnea my whole life and as I aged (and got fatter), it got worse and worse. My wife nagged me to see a doctor because she was tired of waking up when I stopped stop breathing in the middle of the night. She wore me down and I finally went to my doctor, who set me up with a sleep study. It turned out that I had severe apnea and, to make matters worse, I couldn't tolerate the CPAP machine. The machine needed so much air that it felt like I was choking when it sent a blast of air down my throat.
The only option left was surgery. When I had my consult for the surgery, the surgeon told me what all was going to happen: First, they were going to micro-abrade my nasal passages, a process that I half-humorously called "roto-rootering my head". Then, they were going to remove all the excess tissue from the back of my throat and roof of my mouth. Finally, they were going to widen my nasal cavity. It sounded, and turned out to be, painful.
After the surgery, I spent a pain-filled night in the hospital. It hurt so bad that I couldn't sleep, and the nurses were unresponsive to say the least. I was supposed to get pain medication every four hours, but it was five or six hours between doses. By the time I was discharged, I wanted to punch each and every nurse responsible for my care during my stay.
My wife picked me up from the hospital and got me comfortable before going back to work. She only worked part-time with no benefits and if she took time off she didn't get paid for it. We really didn't need the money since I had a good-paying job, but it was a point of pride with her. She'd worked since she was 15 and having the job let her feel like she wasn't "dependent" on me.
Despite being part-time, her manager managed to find ways to keep her there an extra hour or two or three every day. It pissed me off that she was working almost full-time hours without full-time benefits, but she loved the people she worked with and told me she didn't mind it. To be honest, I thought she was having an affair with her manager until I met him. I'm not the cream of the crop by any means, but this guy was seriously a fat slob. I didn't feel threatened by him at all. He wasn't doing anything with my wife, he was just an asshole.
As I surfed the TV channels, the meds wore off. I could only take them every two hours, but they stopped working in half that time. I heard the front door open and my wife's daughter-in-law, Jessie, walked in carrying a large bag. I raised an eyebrow at her in surprise.
I have to admit that I'd had a serious case of the hots for Jessie since the day I met her five years ago. I don't know why, either...she was the opposite of what my normal tastes were. I liked solid, full breasted women as evidenced by my wife (5'9", around 160 pounds with D-cup breasts), and Jessie was a tiny thing, maybe 5'2" with not much in the way of tits. Her small frame and small boobs her an elfin look that I found incredibly attractive however. Of course, her youth had a lot to do with that...she wasn't even half my age, being 23 compared to my 51. I'm not an ass man either, but she had a particularly nice one that I ogled every chance I got. My wife had caught me checking out her ass on several occasions, prompting a stern look from her. Lastly, she was a red-head...I usually went for the blonde ones.
"Wow...you look like shit, Craig," she said. One thing that I didn't like much about her was her bluntness. If it popped into her head, she said it.
"Thanks," I mumbled sarcastically. It hurt to talk. "What are you doing here?"
"I brought soup," she said, holding the bag up. At the mention of food, my stomach growled loud enough for her to hear. I didn't have anything to eat for 24 hours prior to the surgery, and only ate about 1/10th of the food they brought me after...despite being famished, it just simply hurt too much to eat.
She disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a large steaming bowl. She handed it to me, then plopped down in my wife's recliner next to me.
"So, how are you?" she said, brightly.
"Hurting," I complained. "Can't get comfortable, can't sleep, can't eat." I took a spoonful of the soup. The heat of it going down my raw throat hurt like hell but my stomach appreciated it.
"Poor thing," she said, standing and walking over to me, then putting her hand on my forehead. "No fever," she commented.
Despite the pain I was in, the sensation of her tiny hand on me made my dick twitch. If I had felt better, I think my dick would have surged to full hardness.
"What's new with y'all?" I asked as she pulled her hand away.
"Not much," she replied. "Mark is still an ass, the kids are doing good. They're at my mom's so I can come take care of you. Other than that it's same old, same old."
Mark was my wife's son from a previous marriage. When Mark and Jessie married, he was 18 and she was 16. They had two children that my wife doted on, but I think the responsibility of being a husband and father was too much for him. He couldn't keep the same job for more than six or eight months, and had left her several times to shack up with another (notably childless) woman. He kept coming back to her, though, and she kept taking him back.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "My tattoo is done!"
"You have a tattoo?" I asked. There was nothing showing on the skin that I could see.
"Yep! Wanna see?" she asked.
"Sure," I replied.
To my utter surprise and shock, she stood up and pulled her t-shirt off. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her perfectly formed little titties were exposed in all their glory. She had large nipples which seemed even bigger on the small breasts they were on and was close enough that I could have reached out and touched them. My first instinct was to do exactly that but I caught myself as she spun around. There, across the whole of her back, were fairy wings. Whoever did the work did an excellent job.
"Very nice," I said, not sure if I was talking about her tattoo or her tits.
"Thank you," she giggled. She turned back around, giving me another glorious look, then put her t-shirt back on.
"Kind of bold of you," I said, smiling.
"What, showing you my tattoo...or showing you my tits?" she grinned.
"Both," I said.
"I'm not ashamed of my tattoo OR my body," she replied. "I like it when I can show either off. Besides, I thought you could use some cheering up."
I wasn't as much cheered up as I was excited. My dick had overcome the pain and medication and was slowly ballooning under my robe. I didn't think I could get hard under these conditions, yet there it was.
"That's a helluva way to cheer me up," I said, smiling.
"I can walk around topless if it'd make you feel better," she said, a glint of laughter in her eyes.
"Hell, yes," I mumbled to myself, not realizing that I'd said it loud enough for her to hear.
Without any hesitation, she pulled her shirt off again. Again, those beautiful little breasts were within reach, and it was everything I could do to stop myself from reaching out and touching them.
"Does that help?" she asked, her hands running up her side to cup them.
I nodded, unable to tear my eyes from them. I shifted, trying to hide the tenting of my bathrobe.
"Good," she grinned, then walked away. I could hear sounds from the kitchen of dishes being washed over the next fifteen or twenty minutes.
"When do you take your pain meds again?" I heard her call from the kitchen.
"Another twenty minutes," I griped. "Damn things wear off too soon."
She walked back into the living room, still topless. My dick, which had softened completely while she was in the kitchen, twitched back towards hardness.
"Twenty minutes is close enough. Here," she said, holding out my pain medication. I took it, then she handed me a wet hot dishtowel. "Hold this up against your face. It'll help."
I didn't want to...it would block my view of her. Reluctantly, though, I did and the heat radiating into my face did make it feel better. It only lasted a minute or two before it began to cool, and I pulled it away from my face.
My eyes opened wide when I discovered her on her knees in front of me. She had a look in her eye that I couldn't fathom.
"I can't make the pain go away," she said quietly, "but maybe I can take your mind off of it?" Her tiny hands reached out and opened my robe, exposing my hardening dick.
"Uh, Jessie," I stammered, my hands nervously fluttering towards my robe. Honestly, I had every intention of pushing her away and covering myself up, but I never managed to actually achieve that feat.
Her mouth covered the head of my dick, slowly sliding down my shaft, and I groaned. GODDAMN her mouth felt good. I didn't get oral much...my wife didn't like giving or receiving it. Luckily for my wife, though, I have a hair trigger when she sucks my dick and I don't last very long on the rare occasions I talk her into it.
"Jesus, Jess," I moaned. The pain in my face faded at the sensation of her slow, relentless blowjob. I heard her giggle around my dick, and my hand rested softly on top of her head as it moved up and down.
It took me a lot longer than normal to cum because of the pain and the medications, but she never stopped until my dick throbbed in her mouth and flooded it with my cum. There was a lot of it, which I think surprised her because I felt her jerk and swallow furiously.
My dick deflated immediately and she gave the tip a few kisses before standing up and covering me back up with my robe.
"You, uh," I said, pointing to the corner of my mouth. Her finger found the stray blob of cum and pushed it into her mouth. My dick twitched weakly at the sight.
She walked away, returning a few minutes later with a blanket. She covered me, kissed me on the forehead, and said, "Maybe that will help you sleep." I didn't know if she meant the blanket or the blowjob, but I really didn't care...the meds were starting to kick in and the warm glow of my orgasm made my eyelids heavy.
I woke up with a start when I heard the front door close. Bleary-eyed, and back in pain, a wave of fear ran through me as I saw my wife walk into the living rom. I looked around for Jess, but her t-shirt wasn't on the floor any more. I relaxed, relieved. She was gone.
"How are you feeling?" she asked, hanging up her keys and work badge next to the front door.
"Still hurting," I said. She walked over to me, and saw the cold bowl of soup on the table next to my recliner. "You made soup?" she asked, surprised.
I shook my head, which triggered a fresh wave of pain. "Jessie brought it over," I said.
She frowned. "Hmmph," she grunted. She'd never been very fond of Jessie to begin with, thinking that she wasn't "good enough" for her son. I never voiced it, but I always thought the opposite was closer to the truth. True, there were rumors that Jessie had screwed around on Mark, but I think it was more in retaliation to his frequent wandering than anything else.
I looked at the clock. It had been over four hours since my last dose of pain meds (and the wonderful ministrations from Jessie), and heaved myself out of my chair to take more.
I slept in my recliner that night. Laying down seemed to intensify the pain in my head, so I spent the night upright. I dozed off and on, never really getting much sleep except for a short time after the next set of pain meds kicked in. When my wife woke up the next morning and came out to check on me, I was both in pain and exhausted.
"Feeling any better?" she asked.
"Not really," I admitted. I didn't expect to miraculously heal overnight, but I had hoped that some of the pain would lessen. No luck for that, though.
She made me oatmeal, which I normally detest, but the softness and warmth in my throat made it tolerable and I was surprised when I finished the bowl. My stomach was happy, even if everything above my shoulders wasn't.
She collected up her keys and work badge, but paused before leaving for work. "Do you want me to come by at lunch and check on you?" she asked.
"Nah, babe," I said. It'd take up her whole lunch break just driving home and then back to work, with maybe five minutes to spare. "I appreciate it, but I can manage."
She kissed me on my forehead and left. I managed to doze back off.
I woke up to the sound of someone in the kitchen. At first, I thought my wife had changed her mind and stayed home, but after a minute I saw Jessie walking into the living room.
"How ya feeling?" she asked brightly.
"Meh," I said. "About the same as yesterday...MAYBE a little better."
She frowned at my tone of voice, then without preamble took her shirt off again. Those beautiful little breasts teased me again. "Well, we'll get you better in no time," she smiled.
I groaned inside. I couldn't help but think about her mouth on my dick yesterday, and I twitched under my robe again.
"About yesterday," I started to say.
"What of it?" she said, cutting me off. "It was something that I wanted to do for a while, so I took advantage of the situation."
My eyes goggled at her statement. "Something you've wanted to do?" I said, dumbfounded.
"Hell, yes," she said. "For an older guy, you're pretty hot and I knew you had a nice sized dick...I've seen that lump in your pants more than a few times." I gave her a guilty look, not realizing that she'd seen my sexual interest in her before.
She put her hand on my forehead to check for a fever, then her face wrinkled up. "Damn, you stink," she said with half a laugh. "When's the last time you took a shower?"
"The night before the surgery," I admitted.
She took both of my hands, and pulled. I was surprised at her strength. I stood, and she led me to the master bathroom. She got the shower going, then stood there expectantly.
"Well?" she said, putting her hand on her hip.
"You want me to get undressed in front of you?" I asked.
"I've seen your dick. Hell, I sucked your dick. So, yeah, get naked and get in the shower," she said.
Hesitantly, I let my robe drop and stood in front of her in all my nakedness.
"There IS something hot about a dad bod," she grinned, grabbing my shoulder and propelling me towards the steaming-hot shower. I opened the curtain, stepped in, and closed it behind me. The hot water felt wonderful, and I closed my eyes to bask in the sensation.
I felt, more than heard, the shower curtain open and when I opened my eyes, I saw her stepping into the shower with me. She was nude...God, what a vision! I'd already seen her chest and taut stomach, and the rest of her was just as nice. I glanced down...she had a shaved pussy, and it was the most beautiful pussy I'd ever seen. Trust me, I've seen quite a few and hers was absolute perfection.
She grabbed a washcloth and squirted some soap on it. "Turn around," she said. I did, and felt her washing my back. My wife had never done that. Between the hot water and the feeling of her scrubbing my back, I was barely aware of the pain in my face.
The washcloth left my back. "Ok, turn back around," she said. Slowly, I did. She took the bottle of soap and squirted it down her front, then pressed up against me. She began "washing" my front with the smooth, soft skin. My dick was trapped between me and her stomach.
I couldn't stop myself and bent over to kiss her. She giggled and danced away, turning around and backing against me. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close against me. She didn't resist, and melted against me.
God, I wanted to fuck her. I was only barely aware of the pain...every sensation I experienced was of her pressed tightly against me. My hand slid down her front until it covered her pussy. Soap-slicked, my finger easily spread her pussy lips to find her clit.
"Uhhhohhh," I heard her moan as my finger slowly ran circles around it. There was a heat that wasn't from the water that emanated from her, and the more I teased her clit the hotter she became. I could smell her juices mingling with the steam of the shower.
"Yesssss," she groaned as my finger went from her clit to slid inside her, then back to her clit. My dick throbbed as she gently moved against me, sliding it against her lower back as her hips moved back and forth in time with my finger's movement.
"OhhhhHHHH!" she exclaimed as I felt her pussy convulse against my finger. Her orgasm made her knees weak, and I could barely keep her upright because of the slickness of the soap covering our bodies. I held her as tightly as I could as she shuddered through her orgasm.
"Ahhh," she sighed, her strength coming back to her. Without a word, she pulled away from me and scrubbed my front, then stepped back to let me rinse off. After I did, she went to her knees under the cascading water and took me in her mouth again. I didn't last very long.
"Feel better?" she smiled as she looked up at me, her tiny hand wrapped around my shrinking dick.
"You do take my mind off of things," I grinned.
"That's my intent," she giggled, standing up. We got out of the shower and she dried herself.
"I'm not an invalid," I growled as she refused to let me dry myself and accomplished the task herself.
"Of course you are," she said, laughing. "Unless you don't WANT me to help you out?" I shook my head, a mistake since it woke up fresh pain in my face.
She found a clean robe for me, then led me back to the living room and my recliner. Tucking a blanket around me, she reheated some soup. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, since she never put any clothes on after the shower. I ate the soup, my face and throat not hurting as much as the day before, and wondering if it was because I was healing or if it was because I was distracted. A full belly, sated dick and fresh pain meds, and I was soon asleep again.
I don't know how long my wife had been home before I woke up. She commented that she really didn't mind Jessie coming over during the day because she'd done the dishes and the laundry, and made a rather heated remark that I was in no condition to take advantage of her. I managed not to smile at her comment.
I spent that night in the recliner again, and managed to get more sleep. The pain meds seemed to last a bit longer, or there wasn't as much pain to begin with. I still hurt, but it was...manageable, I guess would be the best word. After my wife went to work, I anxiously waited for Jessie to show up.
She did around 9AM, and my smile turned into a frown as I saw she had the kids with her. Normally, I liked seeing them. Little Jimmy (named after Jessie's father) at 5 years old was my little buddy and three year old Lydia (named after my wife) was just as cute as a bug. Jessie saw my face fall, and after giving me an apologetic look explained that her mother had a doctor's appointment and she didn't have another baby sitter.
The day went fairly quick. The kids played, after I explained to Jimmy about my surgery and assured him that, no, I wasn't dying. Around noon, Jessie made everyone lunch, bringing me a grilled cheese sandwich in addition to my soup. It hurt like hell going down, but I managed to finish it.
After lunch, Jimmy had fallen asleep on my lap and Lydia crashed out in mid-block building on the floor. Jessie took Jimmy from me. "I'll put them down on your bed, if you don't mind," she said quietly. I nodded.
When she returned, she walked up to the side of my recliner and slowly pulled her shirt up. Again, she was bra-less, and gently guided my head towards her bared skin. I kissed her taut stomach, and nursed on her nipples for a minute before she danced away. "I don't want the kids to see anything," she said, lowering her shirt and stepping away from me. Reluctantly, I nodded. My dick was hard, but I reluctantly agreed with her that we shouldn't do anything with the kids there.I dozed off and on all afternoon, but was awake when my wife came home from work. She frowned slightly at the sight of Jessie, but her eyes lit up when she saw the kids. Jessie cooked dinner, which my wife grudgingly appreciated, and we had a pretty good evening.
That night, I tried sleeping in bed instead of my recliner. However, laying down seemed to add more pressure and pain inside my head, and I retreated back to the recliner. I was only taking the pain meds now about every four hours instead of two, and they were lasting almost the whole time before wearing off.
I felt good enough the next morning that I managed to shower before Jessie came over. I was just getting out of the shower and drying off when she walked into the bathroom naked. She frowned.
"I guess no playtime in the shower," she said. There seemed to be true disappointment in her voice.
"Well," I said cautiously, nodding towards the open door to the bedroom, "the bed is right there."
"Are you sure you're up for that?" she said. My heart leapt that she didn't dismiss it out of hand. I nodded quickly.
She took my hand and almost dragged me to the bed. I put up exactly zero resistance.
"Lay down on your back," she said.
"I want you on YOUR back," I grinned.
"Nuh-uh," she said. "You get to straining and shit and you'll bust stitches."
I wanted nothing more to feel her underneath me, her legs around me as I slammed myself into her. Still, she had a point, and I laid down on the bed on my back.
She immediately crawled between my legs and slid her lips down my dick. I had gone from limp to half-hard when she walked into the bathroom...between the pain, and that I'd taken pain meds before I got into the shower, it was affecting my ability to get hard. Her lips and tongue took care of that problem, though.
In no time, I was rock-hard and groaned in disappointment when she pulled her mouth off of me. My groan turned into a moan of pure pleasure as she straddled me, lined my dick up with her pussy, and slowly sank onto me.
Holy Christ! I hadn't felt anything that tight, wet and hot since...well, since I was in my twenties. My wife and I have a pretty good sex life for our age, fooling around maybe once or twice a week. But Jessie...my God!
She immediately started raising and lowering herself on me, her eyes boring holes into mine with a look of desperate desire. Her pace quickened, and inside of a minute I felt her spasm around me, throwing her head back and moaning loudly. Her orgasm was strong enough and loud enough that it triggered mine, and my hands gripped her hips tightly as I slammed myself up into her, my dick throbbing and spewing more cum than I'd ever felt before.
All in all, it lasted MAYBE two minutes, but it was the most intense sex I'd ever had. My excitement, her raw sexual need, combined with how illicit and immoral it was, raised the bar for every future sexual encounter I'd have.
She stayed atop me, rigid, as she slowly came down to earth then slowly fell forward onto me. I felt her small titties quiver against my upper stomach as the last few spasms ran through her.
"Woooooowwwwww," she murmured.
"Yeah," I breathed out heavily. Unfortunately, my head decided to remind me that there was pain, and I winced as my heart pounded, sending pressure to every outraged nerve ending above my shoulders.
I urged her off me and sat up a bit, trying to relieve the pressure in my head.
"Hurting?" she asked, laying next to me.
"Yeah, a bit," I said, understating it a bit. "Worth it."
A lazy smile crossed her face. "I knew it'd be good," she mewled, stretching cat-like then throwing an arm around me.
"Short, though," I chuckled.
"We can work on that," she said, her eyes sparkling.
"Jessie...why me?" I asked. "I'm married to your husband's mother, and I'm more than twice your age."
"You're sweet, generous, and kind," she said. "Completely the opposite of Mark. And like I said before, I think you're kinda hot. And I know you're attracted to me...you're not that subtle about it."
I laughed. "I thought I was being subtle."
She snorted. "Hardly. You may not think I saw you checking me out all those times, but I did. Hell, even your wife noticed it."
Lydia. Now that I'd cum, I was having some guilt about what Jessie and I had done, what we were doing. Which led me to my next question. "So, what are we doing? Where do we go from here?"
Her hand curled around my dick, stroking it slightly. Holy hell, I started to get hard again almost immediately. I don't think I've ever recovered this quickly, made even more shocking by the condition I was in.
She was silent as she stroked me to full hardness, then got up and straddled me again. As the tip of my dick started to open her wet pussy, she finally said, "I don't know. I'm still trying to figure that out. But for now, I'm going to fuck you again." I groaned as she slid herself onto my length.
Later, after she'd cum twice more and me once, she got up and got a wet washcloth and cleaned me up, then went and got some pain meds for me. I fell asleep to the sound of her singing softly in the shower, thinking that she had a nice voice.
She was gone by the time I woke up, and I was able to sleep in bed that night, albeit with a couple of extra pillows to raise my head some. I slept pretty good, only waking up once. The pain in my head had subsided to a hard ache instead of pain. Ah, sweet recovery.
The next day was Saturday, and my wife didn't have to work. Jessie came by anyway, bringing the kids. With Lydia's attention on the kids, it was easy for her to shoot me sultry look every so often that made my dick swell.
Sunday was the same, but I was getting anxious for Monday. I'm afraid I was a little bit snappish to my wife which she attributed to the pain from my surgery, but it was more about having Jessie around and not being able to fuck her that was getting me irritated.
I stayed in bed on Monday morning when my wife left for work. Jessie arrived, quickly pulled off her clothes and climbed in bed with me without a word. She laid next to me, her head on my shoulder, while I basked in the sensation of her lithe body pressed against mine.
She was idly playing with my hardening dick when I suddenly rolled her over on her back and climbed between her spreading legs. She knew what I wanted, and groaned as I slid myself into her. She was already wet.
I fucked her harder than I'd ever fucked a woman. There was no soft, gentle lovemaking. I had a desperate need, and her hands went around behind my neck as I pounded myself into her with a fury. Joy of joy, we climaxed together, with her slamming her pussy up to meet my thrusts.
When my vision cleared and my shuddering orgasm came to an end, I looked down into her eyes. She was looking up at me in wonder, a half-smile on her face.
Then, I felt a wetness on my nose and a drop of blood fell from it onto her forehead.
"Oh, shit!" she said, scrambling out from under me and pushing me over onto my back. My hand went to my nose...there was more blood forming there. Now that I was coming back to my senses, I felt a hard painful throbbing in my face.
"I KNEW it was too early for that," she muttered, getting out of bed and going to the bathroom, returning with a handful of tissue. I took the tissue and pressed it against my nose, trying to stifle the flow.
"Worth it," I muttered, smiling through the pain.
"Bullshit," she said, sitting on the bed next to me. "Here I'm trying to make you better and I'm causing more pain."
I pulled the tissue away from my face, gently grabbed her and and pulled her face towards mine. Our lips met, my tongue inside her opening lips. I realized that we hadn't ever kissed before, and our kiss went on until I ran out of breath...I still couldn't breathe out of my nose because of the swelling and mass of dried blood still crammed up in my nasal passages.
"You ARE making me better," I said, gasping for air.
She gave me an exasperated look, then settled back down on the bed against me. The bleeding stopped, quickly followed by my falling asleep.
I woke up later to her shaking me. "It smells like fucking in here," she said. As I got up and headed towards the shower, she pulled the sheets off the bed. After they (and I) were washed and dried, I helped her put them back on the bed. I remarked that it was still early in the day and that we may need to use the bed again.
"Oh, no, mister," she said, a frown. "I should have known better. You'll just have to be content with blowjobs until you're in better shape."
I wasn't going to argue with that.
The week progressed and she was good as her word. I'd never had so much oral sex. Jessie drove me to a doctor's appointment that Thursday, where they removed some of the stitches and cleaned the dried blood and crap out my nose and sinuses. It felt MUCH better to be able to breathe through them again. It also meant that I could kiss Jessie properly.
It also meant that I could return the favor for Jessie. As I said, my wife didn't like giving OR receiving oral sex. I, on the other hand, loved making a woman cum with my tongue. When we got back to the house, she squealed as I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, throwing her softly on the edge of the bed and damn near tearing her blue jean shorts and panties off. I kneeled between her dangling legs.
Her pussy was just as beautiful up close as I thought it was in the shower. She had a teenager's pussy (which she wasn't far removed from) and there wasn't evidence that she'd already had two kids. My tongue darted out and lightly circled her clit. Now that I could smell again, I appreciated her musk, her scent, and appreciated her taste even more.
You get good at what you love to do, and I'd had lots of practice before I met my wife. In no time, her pussy was drenched with both her juices and my saliva and her hands clenched the sheet in bunches. Her first orgasm was the loudest. By the third, she was pulling my face away from her.
"I need you to fuck me," she moaned, pulling me up. I hadn't even gotten undressed, just simply unzipped my pants, pulled myself out, and thrust into her. The feel of her tight, wet pussy combined with her groan of pleasure almost made me cum right away, but I managed to stop it.
That fuck, like all previous and later, was rough, passionate, and short. I came hard, the orgasm encompassing everything from my knees to my stomach. I think she came around the same time...I couldn't tell. I was kind of preoccupied.
I collapsed on her, making her grunt. "Heavy," she muttered, pushing me weakly to the side. I roused enough strength to roll off next to her on the bed.
"I'm impressed," she said, breathily.
"For...?" I asked.
"You know how to eat a pussy. Most guys go for the 'cow-lick'," she said with a chuckle.
"'Cow-lick'?"
"Yeah, run the flat of their tongue from the bottom of the pussy to the clit," she explained. "You seem to have discovered that your tongue has a tip, too."
I laughed at her explanation. Out of the blue, a thought occurred to me that I had to voice. "Jessie...what are we doing?"
"Fucking," she said. I could hear the smile in her voice.
"My recovery time is coming to an end. What happens after?" I asked.
"Hey, downer," she complained. "Don't even let me enjoy the afterglow, huh?"
I raised up on one elbow facing her. "I'm serious. What are we going to do...after? I mean, is this just a one-time thing? Is this just handy because I'm available, or what?"
She raised up from the bed and kissed me. "I love you," she said. "Have loved you.
"I'm over twice your age," I protested.
"And what of it?" she countered. "Are you actually COMPLAINING about it?"
"No!" I said, hurriedly, then paused. "Well, yeah...not complaining, more confused."
She pushed me back down flat on the bed, threw her arm around me, and pulled herself against me tightly. "I told you already that you're kind, you're sweet. You're sexy for an older guy," which produced a snort of laughter from me, "and you're ten times the man that Mark is."
"Mark, your husband," I said slowly.
She didn't respond to that.
"What about that? What about Lydia, my wife?" I continued.
A long silence, then she replied. "I wanted you all to myself, at first. I dreamed about the life we could have. But, honestly...you're never going to leave Lydia, and I'll probably never leave Mark. I know it, and you probably know it too."
"So this ends when I go back to work?" I asked.
"It doesn't have to," she said. There was a hint of hesitation in her voice.
"Good," I replied, kissing her forehead and holding her tightly. "I don't want it to."
She chuckled. "Why would you, when this tight fine pussy was available?"
"It's not just the 'tight fine pussy', you know," I replied softly. "I love you too."
We laid there for a long time, before she finally roused and we repeated the shower/sheet washing. She was gone by the time my wife came home from work.
I eventually got a clean bill of health from my doctor and started going back to work. Jessie and I met once or twice a week...I'd take a long lunch and she'd meet me at a motel. It wasn't the same as having her around all the time, but it was better than nothing.
Two months later, I came home from work and my wife was in a fury. "That SLUT! That BITCH!"
I saw Mark was with her. "What the hell's going on?" I asked him.
"Jessie's pregnant," he said.
"Um...congrats?" I told him.
"Tell him the rest," Lydia snarled.
"Well, I was telling Mom that I had a vasectomy a couple of years ago," he said.
My heart pounded, and I got a sick feeling in my stomach. If HE wasn't the father...
"I guess they didn't do it right," he continued quickly, flashing a sickly smile at Lydia. "I mean, I never went back to have it checked, never did the sperm count thing." It dawned on me that despite the vasectomy, he still thought he was the father. Or maybe he knew better, but wasn't going to admit that he wasn't.
"Bullshit!" Lydia said, then stomped out of the room.
I followed her, and the next thirty minutes was spent trying to calm her down. She was convinced that Jessie had gotten pregnant from someone other than Mark. I couldn't change her mind, but pointed out that regardless of the parentage, Mark was fine with it.
Seven months later, Craig James Robert was born. The first name was in honor of me, Jessie said, but I was puzzled about the two middle names until she started calling him "JR", then "Junior", explaining that we already had a "Craig" (me) in the family. It was blatant, "Craig Junior", but nobody seemed to catch on. Or they did and they didn't say shit about it.
It didn't help that Lydia was a dirty blonde, Mark had light brown hair, and Jessie was a redhead. JR had a shock of thick black hair...just like me.
Jessie and I continued meeting, even managing to spend an incredible weekend together when I had to travel for work and she found an excuse to meet me there.
A year and a half after JR was born, Jessica arrived. A little over a year after that, Oscar was born. Both had my thick black hair.
My wife has never accused me of anything, but I do catch her looking at Jessie's three younger children, then me. My hair has turned salt-and-pepper, disguising the similiarity a bit. I don't know if she knows, or suspects, or what. She doesn't treat my kids with Jessie any different than the two older ones, though.
Jessie says she wants one more baby. I thought about getting a vasectomy myself, but realized that I could never explain why since Lydia had her tubes tied before we met. So, I guess I'll have to oblige Jessie with one more.
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