My Sultry and Nurturing Wife
She’s great when a friend needs relief
Thomas was moping at the bar. “Hate this lonely feeling.” The game blaring in the background didn’t fill the void he was facing since Kerry, his wife, left him. She found a guy online, struck up a conversation, and headed out for life on a yacht while leaving my good friend high, dry, and sexually frustrated.
Sipping beer didn’t help him, either, except soften his once rock-hard abs.
“Come over for dinner tomorrow,” I suggested.
“I was over last week.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Marsha’s going to get a little tired of me, I’d think.” He frowned.
I saw how people spiraled down. One negative emotion leads to another and another like the spiraling water spinning down a bathtub drain … or being flushed down the toilet and into life’s sewer.
Actually, that’s the great thing about my wife and I guess that’s why I married her. Marsha’s one of the coolest women I’ve ever met. I affirm my love for her, of course, but she’s wonderfully low-key and has an amazing ability to empathize.
Which I found hot and sexy. And so did she.
I got home and Marsha was sitting on the couch, reading through her laptop. “Hey, there.” Her blouse was partly open and could barely contain her breasts.
“Hi. How was the game?” She stopped reading and typed. Working on her newest short story. Erotic romance. Broken hearts and combative types who find solace in each other.
“Didn’t even watch it.”
“Oh?”
“Thomas.”
“Down again?” She asked.
“Yeah. I said we could have him over for dinner tomorrow night. If you don’t mind, of course.”
Marsha looked concerned. “It’s not food he needs.” She set the laptop aside and spread her legs.
My cock stiffened.
“Invite him over. I’ll nurture him.”
I sat on the sofa next to her, breathing hard. “I love it when you put it that way.”
She glanced at me and ran a hand along my thigh before kissing me. “We all need nurturing, don’t we?”
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
Marsha and I had done some swinging for a while in our marriage and she connected with others, but it wasn’t just about the sex. She’d fuck, kiss, and wind up listening to others who expressed their feelings. People tried to separate reality and fantasy but she found a way to bring the different parts of their lives together.
I loved seeing her fuck and how she’d get on all fours with her elbows forward and ass raised high, welcoming guys with cocks large and small and enjoying women crawling beneath her, sucking on her tits.
She wasn’t a fuck machine but a life-giver. A very sexy life-giver.
“Tomorrow night, then,” she said.
“I’ll let him know.”
I explained how Marsha wanted to go deep. He wasn’t exactly sure what I meant but I told him he’d find out and to be prepared to feel good.
Thomas arrived and Marsha was in a skirt that poured over her ample hips, stockings, heels, and an oversized white dress shirt that she kept open to reveal plenty of cleavage.
Seduction on sight.
Dinner was simple. A glass of wine. Cheese and crackers. Fruit.
Marsha sat next to him and she had no problem turning the conversation to where it needed to go. “I hear you’re hurting,” she said to Thomas.
“Yeah, just that empty feeling. You can’t run away from it ‘cause it’s inside.”
She took his hand, held it gently against her breasts and quietly urged him. “Tell me.”
Thomas felt her tit while sharing his heart and how he realized he hadn’t given Kerry the attention she needed.
“Don’t blame yourself,” cooed Marsha, guiding his hand slowly over her body. “Look in my eyes.”
Thomas struggled. He glimpsed, then glanced away.
“No, look.” Marsha held his other hand while sitting in the chair next to him and guided his hands along her breasts and over her hips.
Looking into her eyes was pleasant but truly connecting causes vulnerability that can be painful. Thomas did. He looked. Connected and followed along with Marsha’s rhythmic breathing.
She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his while my cock pulsated. She was so damn good. Therapy. Marsha brushed her hair aside, opened her mouth, and let Thomas press his lips against hers.
“Let’s go to a special place,” she whispered, standing and leading Thomas to the den where soft, red lights glowed and candles added to the ambiance. A mattress was on the floor. “Undress me, slowly.”
Marsha had wonderful curves and Thomas fumbled with the buttons on her shirt. “Sense how good it feels and how you’re bringing me pleasure.” Her shirt was off and she lowered her skirt, showing her royal blue bra and panties.
She knelt, feeling along Thomas’ ass and thighs before reaching for his cock, grazing a hand over his zipper and placing her face against him before slowly undoing his jeans, tugging down the zipper, and setting his cock free.
Marsha kissed, licked, and murmured while pleasuring his erection. “You’re so good, Thomas.”
She motioned for him to lie down and for me to join which I did, undressing quickly. Marsha ran her fingers, lips, and tongue over Thomas’ body, sucking his nipples and offering her tits for him. “Suck slowly.”
He did, pursing his lips like a child needing his mother’s milk for growth and survival.
“Now, in me.” She leaned forward, stretching her elbows while having me spread my legs with her mouth going down on my cock.
Thomas knelt behind, angling his cock into her pussy. Marsha’s ass was always an enjoyable sight.
“Fuck me,” she cooed, “knowing that you’re capable of pleasing someone who’s searching for you.”
Thomas was breathing hard while he fucked, thrusting his cock into my wife while she sucked me. His hand moved and he spanked her lightly.
“Harder. Let yourself go,” she urged. “Let it out.”
Thomas did, swatting her ass while fucking, moving harder and harder, spanking more and more ferociously.
Marsha groaned and winced at times with her body rocking, with hair and tits swaying. She sucked on me and sometimes turned her head, crying out, “yeah.”
And soon Thomas came with an orgasm breaking through and a grand finale of swats and spanks turning Marsha’s ass a lovely red hue.
She sucked me off and I had an orgasm, sending cum into her mouth while using my arms to brace. She was so incredibly good, never hurrying us along but letting Thomas use her fully.
He grit his teeth, gripped her hips, and let out one more groan while emptying the last of his semen in her pussy. “Oh, wow. You’re so good. So damn good.”
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Marsha withdrew her mouth from off my cock, turned over, and lay on the mattress holding Thomas and bringing him back to earth.
I knew my role and I hurried to the bathroom to get warm washcloths to clean Marsha and for Thomas to use on himself.
“Talk about therapy,” he said, sighing. “What do I owe you?”
Marsha smiled. “It’s what you owe yourself. Remember this if you get lonely. Call me if you need and we can do this again if need be. But someone else is out there for you willing to grow with you. I know, I can tell.”
Thomas smiled and thanked her.
Marsha had a unique way with friends. She wasn’t just someone who liked to fuck, but she could take someone deep, help them be emotionally vulnerable, and use her sexual prowess to heal and move them on.
And for that I loved her and enjoyed seeing her in action.
She had to write a book about it. I ran the washcloth over her tits, down her tummy, and into her pussy while Thomas dressed.
Going Deep. A simple title. But she could write it and I would urge her on, knowing she could nurture so many more.
Enjoy more … both a taste of sexy reality and plenty of seductive fantasy:
