When Allen Met Jill Again
It had been two weeks, Allen was horny, and he wanted to fuck.
It’s funny how wives can so thoroughly train their husband’s libidos. Early on in their marriage, Deatra had programmed Allen not to initiate sex by the simple tactic of rejecting him each and every time he tried. Not directly or in any way that could be described as emasculatingly cruel; but in the sense of there always being something else more pressing, more important, that she had to deal with at that moment. When he rolled over with his morning erection, she would give him a peck on the cheek and a “rain check,” citing the lack of time, having to get the kids up and ready, making their lunches, etc. If he set his mental alarm clock to allow enough time, she’d simply pretend to remain asleep, or complain that it was too early and she needed her rest. And as often as not, she wouldn’t deliver on that rain check the ensuing evening, complaining about various aches and/or pains, or fatigue. And when she did deliver, it was usually passionless and perfunctory, ending with him pounding away inside her while she made grimaces of pain or looked away from him, as though she were enduring the experience rather than enjoying it, the only effort at controlling her unhappy countenance mustered in order to hasten Allen’s ejaculation so that she could shove him off of her and go clean herself up.
Once in a great while Deatra would feel the stirrings of desire and give him a special treat – not in the sense of doing anything different, much less kinky, but simply of being as willing a lovemaking participant as he, rather than her usual conscript demeanor. And on those occasions, which invariably ended up with her on top riding his cock like a raging bronco, she could be as hot as anything Allen could ever remember.
With one exception.
And that’s what kept him within the narrow guardrails of fidelity.
That, and his characteristic passivity and general surface-unstudliness.
But this current dry spell had become intolerable, and with him and the kids going to his parents’ for his twenty-year high school reunion, and her staying home to work, he wanted to have her long and hard before embarking on this long-anticipated trip.
Allen’s strategy wasn’t original, but it was bold: wait until wifey had turned on the shower, then sneak into the bathroom, drop his clothes, and surprise her for a session of moistness, penetration, and squishing noises.
Dee disappeared into the bathroom while Allen was on the couch, nominally watching WWE Smackdown. Right as Brock Lesnar was F5-ing a member of Team Angle patella-first into the ring post, he heard the magic sound of shower water hitting the bottom of the bathtub. “It’s showtime,” he thought with a grin.
Quietly he tiptoed down the hall, and slowly opened the door.
He hadn’t gotten halfway through it when Deatra peaked out from behind the shower curtain and screamed in momentary terror. Which, in turn, startled Allen and blew down the erection he’d been building for the previous ten minutes.
“What!?” he barked, harsher than he intended – which was oftentimes the case.
“Oh, Allen, you startled me, that’s all,” Deatra attempted to soothe, embarrassed at her outburst. “I thought it was one of the kids.”
“The kids are in bed asleep, Dee,” Allen grated. “You put them there yourself, remember? And Leonard doesn’t get up to take a piss until around midnight, remember? Je..ez,” he caught himself before succumbing to the urge to curse, “what IS it with you, anyway? When I’m taking a shower in the morning you come barging in here all the time and I don’t shriek at you. Of course, you never join me in the shower, either. If you ever did, I’d probably faint dead away and fall out of the tub altogether.”
“But dear, you know I don’t like bathing together,” Deatra primly lectured. “My skin is dry and can’t tolerate prolonged exposure to the water, and besides, I’ve told you time and again that this tub just isn’t big enough for both of us. And with the hot water heater only firing on one cylinder or whatever, there isn’t enough hot water anyway.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, there’s always a reason not to do it. Always a reason not to please me, and to prevent me from pleasing you. Sometimes I wonder whether you didn’t remove one of the heating elements in that heater deliberately so that I would be forced into regular regimen of cold showers. I really wouldn’t put it past you.”
Now she was getting that hurt expression on her face that she always got when they lapsed into one of these arguments. At one time he would have been overcome with the need to go to her and comfort her. Now he was so exasperated that he couldn’t get away from it, and her, fast enough.
Plopping back down in front of the tube, Allen was just in time to see Kevin Nash club Vince McMahon from behind while Hollywood Hogan looked on. Hey, the nWo was back! At least business was picking up someplace.
After Smackdown ended he flipped over to the Red Green Show when he thought he heard Deatra’s voice. “Nah, must be something else,” he thought. Then he heard it again. “What does she want now?” he grumbled. Seeing that the light was on in the bedroom behind the closed door, he padded down the hall to see if she was talking to him.
Allen opened the door only to have it closed on him, almost in his face. Incensed, he burst through it, only to have a naked Deatra shriek again.
His anger dissolving into confusion, he said, “What was that all about?”
Beginning to tear up, she whimpered, “I was going to surprise you, like you always want me to do.”
Oh, crap, he thought, starting to beat his forehead against the doorframe.
“I’m sorry, Dee. I thought I heard your voice, and I was coming down to see if you were calling me.” Unable to think of anything else to say, he turned on his heel and returned to the living room.
Allen’s consciousness didn’t make it through two installments of Red Green. As was a balefully regular habit, he dozed off on the couch, while Deatra dozed off in bed. Once again, there was no sex in the Grosserhaun household.
And once again, Allen dreamed.
~ ~ ~
Jill wept.
These bursts of melancholy came at unexpected intervals, usually triggered by a sight or a sound or a smell. Anything that reminded her of Mike Penney, and the good times they had had together.
They had met on a blind date, of all things. And not any blind date, but on the TV show Blind Date. She had been the “adventurous” physical therapist and he the stolid but quietly fun-loving civil engineer. He had the sort of reserved demeanor that she delighted in drawing out, and he had enjoyed her drawing him out, almost as if that persona was just a façade designed to get out of her what he wanted, but in a playful, rather than manipulative way.
They had gone the usual dating format for that show – an activity, followed by dinner, followed by drinks and/or dancing. The producers had tried to talk them into a hot tub encounter, but while Jill would have been willing in ordinary circumstances, her adventurousness wasn’t exhibitionistic. Which suggested a hidden hint of demureness to Mike that added in his mind to an inner attractiveness that matched her outer beauty.
When asked if each wanted to see the other again, they both answered with an enthusiastic “yes.”
Periodically Jill would reflect on what made her pursue that relationship after all the previous times she’d been burned. The answer was obvious, of course – Mike was a lot like Allen Grosserhaun had been. Or at least he seemed that way. Of course, Mike was a mature man, in his mid-thirties, affluent, established in his field, as opposed to the callow, insecure youth that Allen had been when she’d taken his virginity. But he still had a boyishness about him that he displayed around her, almost as if she was the only person around whom he felt comfortable dropping his personal shields and exposing his vulnerabilities.
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LADIES IN NUDE
Russian Brides
LADIES IN NUDE
Russian Brides
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