“Back to normal now, for awhile,” she said, “I’ll let you know when we can do this again. Let’s keep it special.”
I was glad to hear she wanted a break. I didn’t know if my body could take much more. “Hey Sarah…nobody knows about this. Nobody. Right?”
Her face glazed over with calm, “Never.”
And with that, she walked out of the room
—
Over the next month, everything was normal. Not so much as a knowing glance was shared between us. I thought it would be hard having my own personal sexual fantasy walking around the house, and I was still scared to death she would snap out of her accepting state and tell the world what a piece of crap I was.
She came home one Saturday afternoon with some kind of flu. I took a bit of a nursing role towards her, making her soup and visiting her in bed. It was the only overtly strange thing I had done since the time in the sauna. It was always her mother that took the role of caretaker when one of our kids was sick. And she took notice.
“You’re being awfully doting over Sarah,” she mentioned as I washed the dishes.
I shrugged, hoping it wasn’t too apparent, “She’s sick. What do you want me to do?”
I caught some kind of knowing stare from her, and it sent chills down my spine. I just kept my head in the sink. The crazy thing about a long marriage is how telepathic it can seem at times.
—
Two more weeks passed, and still nothing. I was watching football in our upstairs media room one Saturday when Sarah came into the room and shut the door. She laid her head on my lap and snuggled up next to me.
Believe it or not, I didn’t think anything of it. Until she started to stroke her hand over the top of my sweatpants.
“Your mom is home,” I warned.
“We’ll hear her come upstairs. I miss it.”
After stroking me for awhile, I was hard enough to strain against my sweatpants. She peeled my pants down and laid her head on my crotch, my cock up against her forehead.
“Mmmmm, I missed it,” she said as she buried her nose in my pubes. We laid like this for at least twenty minutes. I put my hand on the exposed skin above her waist and stroked it softly. There was something very tender and normal about it. It wasn’t anything terribly different from a typical girl snuggling up against her dad, except, well, the cock worship.
She sat up, covering me back up, then looked to the door. She pulled up her t-shirt over her breasts, and I drank her in like a dying man in the desert.
“Get a taste real quick. I think mom is going to visiting grandma, she’ll stay the night. Billy is staying at someones house. So….”
She leaned forward and I put my hand at the small of her back. I put her nipple in her mouth and she quietly cooed as I bit and licked it softly. She pulled away.
“I’ll be here when they’re gone. Put on some nice clothes.”
—
Six o’clock couldn’t come soon enough. My wife closed the door and the house was quiet. After I threw on a shirt and tie, I ate a quick sandwich in the kitchen, slowly, feeling the anticipation. She came downstairs, dressed to the hilt in a tight strapless black dress, her face fully made up, carrying a small bag.
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