I rolled her over and attacked her clit with my tongue, driving her to an even more convulsive orgasm. She pushed my head away and said, “that’s enough, I can’t take any more, please stop.” I obeyed, and she added, “that was amazing, maybe you should take more trips.” She seemed serious, as I looked her in the eye while repositioning myself on the bed.
“The least I can do is return the pleasure,” she said as she picked herself up and leaned over to take my cock into her mouth. She proceeded to give me the best blow-job that she had ever given me, and I literally exploded into her mouth. She swallowed every drop, as she always did, looked at me, smiled and licked her chops.
She lay back down beside me, and we drifted off to sleep, my arm around her, holding her tight to me, contented smiles on both our faces.
I woke up in the middle of the night, with somewhat of a start, I must have been having a bad dream, and the subject of my dream was my wife. I pictured her being fucked by another man, a faceless man. ‘Why had she been overly glad to see me, and overly anxious to fuck? Could it be that she was feeling guilty too? Did she fuck someone else while I was gone? How could she, I mean with whom?’ Then it hit me, it must have been her boss, he’s a rather good-looking attorney, and I’ve questioned her about him in the past. ‘Maybe it was he? Damn, what do I do now? Do I confront her? No way, can’t do that! If she did do something, she’s no more guilty than I. I know for a fact that I’ve cheated on her, but I only suspect what she might have done. How would I get proof? I think that I should let well enough alone. Yes, that’s what I’ll do, let well enough alone.’ I drifted back off to sleep, even with all of those unanswered questions.
Three weeks have passed since my trip to Denver, and Irma and I continue to communicate via cyberspace, however, we aren’t as sexually explicit as we were before our adventure. Conversely, we’re even better friends now, and communicate as such, not as lovers.
I’m happy to report that she and her husband are in the process of working out their problems, and they’re moving on in their married lives. She informed me that he wasn’t as forgiving as she had hoped when she first told him all of the sordid details, but with frequent open discussions, and a few heated arguments, he finally forgave her and agreed to take some action in an attempt to correct his problem.
He had his blood tested for testosterone levels, and it turned out that he was deficient, as I had suspected. He’s now receiving injections to build the levels back to normal. Irma is well on her way to a vastly improved sex life with her hubby.
Conversely, I haven’t told my wife about Irma, and she hasn’t volunteered any information regarding what she might have been up to while I was gone.
Our sex life has been revitalized, in spades. She’s as anxious and responsive as she had ever been, and more willing to try the different things that I had been suggesting all along. I still don’t know if she had a fling while I was gone, she’s given no indication.