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Slip of the tongue


Nov 5, 2013
A place in Wales that you can't pronounce
'It's been a long time.'

He'd been watching his wife all afternoon as, despite the heat, she had insisted on tidying the garden before they went to the charity tea party organised by a neighbour. He had already showered and changed into clean shorts when she arrived, stripping off as she walked through their bedroom towards the shower. She appeared five minutes later, naked except for the towel wrapped round her head, and rummaged through wardrobe and drawers to find the perfect outfit for the warm evening.

It was as she passed close to the bed that her husband rolled to sit on the edge, trapping her between his legs.

'It's been a long time, Deidre.'

She knew what 'it' meant.

'It has been,' she replied as his hands cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer.

He waited, hoping for her to say more, but she didn't say anything. Nor did she pull away. He sucked on her left nipple, nibbling playfully.

'We don't have time,' she told him gently, 'we'll be late.'

He had anticipated this as a possible answer, and had his reply ready.

'Not if we're quick.'

She still hadn't pulled away, but nor had she touched him or responded to his touch.

'Are you sure about that, I mean, you remember, well, last time, are you sure you want to, after what happened.'

He remembered what had happened, despite trying desperately to forget the failure and the humiliation he had felt.

'This is different.'

'What's different?'

'This time I've been watching you wander around in the buff for nearly a quarter of an hour.'

She was surprised, having been barely aware that he was there.

'Have you really?'

His answer was to glance down and over his hairy pauch. She slipped her hand into his shorts and smiled.

'OK, but we'll have to be quick. I'll fetch a towel and some oil.' She was always practical.

Twenty minutes later, she lay on her back, her legs in the air, circling like she was riding a bike, her hair stuck in the sweat of her forehead, as her husband gasped and pumped as hard and fast as he could.

'Go on, John, that's it, give it to me like a bitch. That's it, just the way we like it.'

Two minutes later, she howled, shook, and sank back onto the bed, with her husband still struggling to cum.

'Damn,' she seldom swore, 'just look at the time. We're already late and I need another shower.'

'So do I, we can take one together.'

'OK, but no messing about.'

There was indeed some messing about, but it led nowhere.

By the time they arrived the party was in full swing.

'See,' he whispered in his wife's ear, 'no one noticed; they're too busy enjoying themselves.'

They had barely started with first drinks and were mingling with their neighbours and friends when the hostess homes in on Deidre.

'Is everything OK? We were worried. It's not like to be late.' She stopped and stared closely in her friend's eyes. 'If I didn't know better, no, yes, surely not, you and-' Deidre grinned. 'You have, goodness me, I thought you hadn't, didn't, I mean, I thought he wasn't up to it any more, not after-' She ground to a halt.

'Well,' Deidre informed her, 'he was up for it this evening.'

And so, of course, she had to tell all.

'And you weren't putting on a show for him, you know what I mean, wiggling a bit, flashing your titties, maybe trying on some of that underwear you keep at the back of the drawer?'

'No, honestly, I thought that was all over between us, so why bother. I was just walking around when he pulled me onto the bed with him.'

'And he, did he, was he OK, did he cum too?'

'Let's put it this way,' Deidre patted her bag, 'I've brought a dry pair of pants to change into later.'

Word soon spread around the women, and the women sidled up to their men, and soon pretty much everyone knew what the couple had done.

Some of the men winked at Deidre's husband to let him know they knew, one or two who knew him well slapped him on the back and thanked him for what they knew would now be on offer for them later. Some hung back, not welcoming the pressure to perform that would face them from their wives.

'Do you think he'll be up for it again later?' the hostess whispered as she kissed Deidre farewell.

'I'm not going to put him under pressure, but I'll let him know I available if he wants to.' Her mischievous grin suggested that he might not be given a choice.

The couple were in bed that night, with Deidre snuggled close to her husband, her hand resting on his belly.

'Deidre,' he began, 'you remember earlier, before going to the party, when we were, you know-'

'Rutting.' She spoke the word softly and slowly, as if savouring its taste.

'Yes, that's right.'

'Say it, please, rutting, I like the way you say it.'

'OK, earlier, when we were rutting,' he paused and looked his wife in the eyes, 'and you were doing that cycling thing with your legs-'

'The cycling thing that makes your cock feel on fire and your nuts about to explode, while we were rutting.' Her hand was working down his belly now.

'Yes, when we were rutting and you were doing that thing as you were about to cum,' her hand was in his pubes now.

'Yeah, well when I was doing my bit and you were doing yours,' her hand was stroking his cock now, 'when that was going on, you called me John.'

Deidre's hand stopped.

'John? Why would I call you that? You must have misheard, in all the excitement.'

'No, Deidre, there was no mistake. My name is Carl. It's nothing like John. No way could I have mistaken one for the other. You definitely called me John. In the middle of rutting,' he paused, 'while my cock was on fire and my nuts felt like they would explode, and just before you came, you called me John.'

'Carl, darling, please, it's been such a wonderful day, don't spoil it now. Please.'

'Deidre, I just want an honest answer, that's all. I'm not going to lose it or hit you or walk out. I just want you to tell me the truth.'

Deidre's mind worked frantically. She didn't want to confess the whole truth, but she had to come up with something, something that was credible, but not too bad.

'It was years ago,' she began, 'when I was going to a lot of conferences. Well, this time, it was only the one time, a guy came onto me, one of the delegates. That was John.'

'And you fucked just the once? It must have been memorable.' Carl was calm. This could have been a conversation about whether it was going to rain.

'No, twice probably, maybe three times. We never kept in contact or met again,' she added hastily.

'But you still remember him when we fuck.'

'NO,' Deidre was desperate to defuse this, 'to find a plausible explanation for still recalling the guy's name decades later.

'The thing is,' she was making this up as she went along, 'the thing is, well, when we make love, we are used to each other, we know what each likes and how we respond. But this was someone who didn't know me, so it was different, not because the sex was anything special – it wasn't actually that good – but someone had been attracted to me and was touching me differently from you and that made me feel different as well.'

'So what reminded you of him today?' Carl was persistent in his questions, although still outwards calm.

'That's the point,' inspiration at last, 'we haven't been doing anything lately, not since the time when, well not since the last time. And when you came onto me like you did, that was fresh and different from how we used to be, because we were always routine, you know, Saturday night, holidays, anniversaries, you know how it was.'

'You mean it was like rutting with a stranger and not me?'

'Yes,' she hoped she did not sound too sheepish and that she had hit just the right note. He'd said rutting. That was a good sign, wasn't it? It had to be, because he knew she liked it.

'What about your friends? Do they know about this John? Who else have you told?'

'No one, Carl, honestly, no one, never, not even my sister, nor my best friend. Not one. I promise.'

Carl rolled on top of her, pushing her thighs wide. She felt his cock pushing at her pussy and reached down to open her lips and guide him in. With the way clear, Carl thrust with his full weight and landed hard on his wife, before beginning a rhythmic thrusting.

'You can call me John if you like,' he gasped.

'Seriously?' Deidre had to check she had understood, 'you really want me to call you John while we rut?'

'Yeah,' Carl gasped, 'it was so fucking hot.'

He was working fast now, pumping hard too, forcing her up the bed.

'Tell me what you did. Did you go on top? Did he take you doggy? Did he fuck your ass?'
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