I dropped easily back into sleep like it was a vacation home.
**********
The next day was Saturday. The two sisters were uneasy and tired, but I was as cheerful as a rooster. I made pecan pancakes and Mimosas. They talked gloomily about looking for therapists.
“You know what is just as good as psychiatry?” I said brightly. “Clothes shopping!” Not for me, of course, but I convinced them to go downtown and try on bikinis and panties and thongs and pants and sundresses and shoes until they got blisters. Then we would meet for dinner at a pho place.
“Shoo, shoo.” I said, making the appropriate motions with my hands.
It was the right bait to use. They protested just a little, to be polite. What would I do while they were gone? They asked almost considerately.
I had plans, I said. Big plans.
And those plans were to watch two football games and drink several beers, order pizza with pepperoni and onion and no goddamn eggplant, make a quick trip to the strip mall down the road, and fart unabashedly whenever I pleased without saying excuse me.
Seriously. That was my plan. I executed it flawlessly.
Oh, that and making a simple change on a phone setting.
**********
They purchased three dresses, two pairs of shoes, several new bras…. My brain disconnected to preserve my sanity while at the same time keeping a log of what had been said so I could in an emergency jump back into the story and pretend I had been present all along.
The important thing was that they were happy. That made me happy.
The pho was beefy and delicious. Afterwards we went to a pub for a few cold beers and wine. We quit while we were ahead and still legal and drove back home. It was quite late by then. Jen went to her room and Chris and I got naked.
“Just hold me, babe,” I said as I caressed her. “I don’t need to fuck you every time you take your clothes off. Sometimes I just want to look at your beautiful body and feel it against mine and think about how lucky I am.”
Which, as all men will instantly recognize, was bullshit. I wanted to fuck her, but I needed not to.
**********
My phone woke me at 4 am. I had set the alarm to bird calls. That bird clip was quiet and subtle but for some reason had always grated on me. Now it ensured that I would wake up to kill the chirpy motherfuckers.
I slid out of bed and dug around in the top dresser drawer for one of my purchases at the strip mall. The adult store at the strip mall. No, they weren’t all online yet. And they had a reasonable inventory. I had picked out a Happy Wife vibrator. Six shiny purple plastic inches with a modest girth and a simple rotating control switch on the bottom.
I turned on the bathroom light and left the door cracked. Chris was still on her back, soundly sleeping, and did not move as I drew the covers down and began to caress her. I ran my fingertips from her neck to her toes and back up and sideways. She breathed just a little deeper and a bit harder.
Time for Happy Wife. I turned it to the lowest setting and ran it up and down the same trail my fingers had blazed. Her lips smacked as I let my little pal linger near her labia.
I climbed carefully between her legs and licked my way through her bush until it I had made a slick lane that ran straight to the bud. Happy Wife tobogganed up the hill.
Chris opened her eyes with a gasp. I let the tip of old HW do a victory dance on the top of the hill, and her thighs started opening and closing.
“What are you doing?” my wife whispered urgently.
I kept on. “Oh no – didn’t your mom explain it to you?”
“She never mentioned– AAAH!” Her fists clenched, but in a good way, for perhaps fifteen seconds.
Yay, Happy Wife. Worth every penny.
I put my friend aside and mounted my panting love. I was in no hurry. I had the red display of the clock on the dresser to guide my choreography. Chris urged me to go faster, pulling my ass into her, moaning “Please faster please please!”
But I had a schedule to keep to, and I went slow. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In…. Out….
Slow created anticipation. Steady created anticipation. Anticipation is the plastic explosive of orgasms. Slow and steady are the blasting caps.
She wanted faster but I denied her. The frustration grew in her until my metronomic thrusting demolished it and she began to quiver and shake like I had put a woman-sized AA battery inside of her and twisted her on switch.
“Holy hell,” she puffed after she returned to this planet. “What’s gotten into you?”
I laughed. That was funny. “Into me?”
I applied torque to her and flipped her onto her knees, scooted her back to the edge of the bed, and stood on the floor. Her rosy asshole and her furry swollen lips and glossy slick slit were a wonderful sight. I slipped my cock back into that slit and pressed home.
“OOOOHH!” She cried. She moaned something else – in a different language. I had not known she was bilingual.
I glanced at the clock and kept a steady rhythm for ten minutes or so. Then I reached over and grabbed the other strip mall adult store purchase – a bottle of water-based lubricant. I squirted some into one palm and let it warm.
All the while my wife grunted and groaned and meowed and fucked herself on my cock when I paused my thrusting to attend to other matters.
I slathered the lube on her little orifice. She paused only for an instant but did not protest, even when I put one slippery finger on her nether starfish and rubbed gently.
She moaned in appreciation, so I took Happy Wife, mentally informed it that it was now a multitasker, and pressed the end of it where my finger had just been. And slipped a half inch inside her.
Chris said “AAAA!” in surprise and pulled away, but I grabbed her hip and yanked her back.
I very slowly twisted and pressed and sank the plastic submersible into untested depths. She made protesting squawks, but I had a firm grip on her upper thigh that said this was nonnegotiable.
I checked the time. 5 am. Time to rock and roll and sing the blues and strike up the band.
I picked up the pace. Before, I kept to the beat of The Blue Danube. Now I pounded her pussy to The William Tell Overture. I resisted the temptation to whistle it.
“Oh yes oh yes oh yes!”
My wife agreed with my choice of dance numbers.
She came. Hard and loud and long. A great combination.
As I labored, I saw the bedroom door open slightly. Jen peeked in, her mouth agape. I gave her a thumbs up with my free thumb. She smiled and quietly shut the door.
After the Tell, classical gave way to jazz. I improvised. I rolled her back over and had her missionary for a while, then rolled her onto her stomach and took her prone. We did it on our sides, on our knees, her in my lap, her upside down. I tried the wheelbarrow for the first time ever. Good core workout.
The sun came up. Bright yellow lines showed around the blinds.
Time for the finale. On her back, her legs over my shoulders, the beat custom selected to fit my need. I drilled my lovely wife and felt the juices gather, and as she looked up at me with dazed eyes and mouthed I Love You, I filled her cunt.