A Loving Wife

I was at the pub one night, having a couple of beers and mingling with some friends. The pub had a couple of snooker tables and we were running a bit of a tournament. I was an average player but figured I'd do OK if I lay off the grog and concentrated on the game. I did, too, actually reaching the semi-finals, something I'd never done before and probably won't ever do again. Some of the top players were there every night practicing. Me, once a month, and that didn't really build up your skill level. Still, it was fun.

Mike was the eventual winner. I won't say he's a good friend of mine but he is a close casual acquaintance. What irritated me was that I was laying off the beer to improve my game for the night and he was swilling it down as if scared they'd run out before he got his fair share. The more he drank the better his game got. Damned if I could figure it out.

Brenda, his wife, was also at the pub, having her fair share of alcohol and cheering Mike on. I congratulated Mike, had one last beer with him and Brenda, and then made going home noises. For me, this was easy. I only lived a few blocks from the pub. A quiet stroll would have me home in ten minutes.

Mike and Brenda also decided to leave at the same time. They were walking next to me as I crossed the car park, arguing about which one of them should drive. When the fresh air hit them the extent of their intoxication became clear. No way was either of them fit to drive. I gently suggested that they should call a taxi and come back to collect their car in the morning.

Neither Mike nor Brenda were interested in this option, a point they made abundantly clear. Mike had overtime the next morning and he needed his car right from the word go.

"If you're so worried about us driving, Andy, why don't you drive us home? You can catch a taxi home from our place," Brenda suggested.

Caught by my own Good Samaritan instincts. If I let them drive and they got pulled up for DUI or had an accident I'd be feeling guilty and blaming myself. I was safely under the limit so there was no reason I couldn't drive them home. It wasn't like I had an urgent appointment.

I drove them home. They didn't live far, but possibly a bit further than a comfortable walk, which was probably why they drove. Still, they should have had more sense. One of them should have been the designated driver. I humbly suggested this to them for future reference.

"Ha, we had a designated driver," scoffed Brenda. "Ron. He lives near us and was taking party in the snooker. He was going to stay sober to better his chance of winning. He got eliminated early and started toasting every good shot from that point on. Last I saw of him he was passed out under one of the tables."

So it was all my fault. I was the one who'd eliminated Ron. Even winning I cause myself problems. I parked in my drive and fished out my phone to call a taxi. Damned if I was walking home from here. Wouldn't you know it, a flat battery.

"Mind if I borrow your phone to call a taxi?" I asked generally, hoping one of them was sober enough to be able to find a phone.

"Why bother?" asked Brenda. "You can crash in the spare room for the night. You've got the weekend off, haven't you?"

Why not? I agreed and followed them inside. Brenda showed me where the guest room and facilities were and then headed off to bed with Mike leaning on her. Possibly she was leaning on Mike, but I suspected she wasn't nearly as sloshed as he was.

I woke up next morning at six. Six! On a Saturday morning. I ask you. It was Mike's alarm going off. I remember him saying he was working today. Well, good luck to him and his overtime but a quieter alarm would be a fine thing. Damned if I was getting up. I rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.

Mike crashed around the house for a while, stomping down the hall, clattering around in the kitchen and, finally, banging the front door as he left. Did he have to squeal his tyres driving off? He should have been too hungover to make a peep, let alone a racket.

All Mike's noise had ensured that I woke up properly, damn it. I lay in bed for a little longer but it was plain I wasn't going to get back to sleep. Reluctantly I got out of bed and got dressed. Then I went visiting.

I knocked on the master bedroom's door and heard a muffled sound. Opening the door I stuck my head inside. Brenda was snuggled up in bed, one eye open as she glared at me.

"Oh, fuck," she grumbled. "I forgot you were here. Thank you for driving us home last night. Neither of us should have been behind the wheel. Now go home."

I grinned and ambled into the bedroom.

"I intended departing," I admitted, "but I thought it was only polite to thank you for your hospitality and to ask you to make me some coffee."

I got an indignant look for that.

"Make you coffee? You have got to be kidding me. Make it yourself."

"But it's not my kitchen," I pointed out. "Surely you don't want someone else mucking around in your kitchen?"

Her head came up, both eyes open, and an evil look on her face.

"Andy," she said in a sweet voice. "Get fucked."

That was short and to the point and I decided to accept the invitation. Reaching for the covers I stripped them off the bed with one swift move. I was not going to have to strip Brenda, I noticed, as she was already naked.

She seemed slightly startled by my actions. Can't think why. Anyway, she gave a small shriek, her hands tried to cover her bounty, unsuccessfully, I might add, and then she flipped over so she was lying on her tummy.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" she demanded.

"Accepting your kind invitation," using a 'der' type of voice to indicate that it should have been obvious. At the same time I sat down on the bed and started rubbing her shoulders. She seemed rather tense and a good massage always helps.

"What invitation? I didn't give you an invitation and you damn well know it. Take your hands off me."

"You didn't? It sounded like one to me. Well, no need to worry about it. If you say no, then I guess you say no."

I was now rubbing the nape of her neck and from there I started moving down, giving a nice back rub.

"Um, you still have your hands on me," she pointed out.

"True, but only to give you a little massage, seeing you seem to be unwilling to follow through on your initial invitation. You'll find a nice back rub will help relax you."

"There was no invitation," she muttered, but she wasn't rejecting the back rub. Why would she? It was relaxing and I wasn't trying to sexually molest her, just giving a light massage.

I continued with the massage, long smooth strokes running from her shoulders to her hips. It was only natural that I should continue down until I was rubbing her hips and across her bottom, moving steadily down. Suspicious woman. As my hands neared her crotch she crossed her ankles, ensuring that her legs remained firmly together.

I gave her a friendly slap on the bottom.

"Stop being silly," I told her. "Just relax. I can't massage your legs if they're crossed like that."

I was now massaging the back of her things, moving steadily down, and she relaxed a little more, letting her ankles uncross. I continued rubbing all the way down to her feet, finishing up giving her a nice foot rub.

From her feet I worked my way back up. Her calves, the back of her knees, the back and inside of her thighs. For some reason she tensed up a bit at this but I ignored that, just putting my effort into a massage and only a massage. While it's true that the back of my hand might have brushed lightly across the edges of her pudenda it wasn't deliberate. Her fault really for not having her legs further apart.

From her thighs I moved on to her hips, then across her lower back, moving steadily up until I was rubbing her shoulders and the nape of her neck.

I continued rubbing her nape and shoulder for a while. Finding Brenda relaxing nicely I moved back down, sliding my hands along her sides, lightly brushing the edges of her breasts. Again, it wasn't something I could really help. She was quite nicely endowed in that area and when she lay on her stomach they just natural spread out. I didn't make an issue of it, just running along her sides until I reached her hips.

Brenda was obviously feeling totally relaxed at this stage, half asleep and enjoying the massage. That's probably why she didn't react fast enough when my hands tightened their grip on her hips and lifted. I hosted her hips up into the air, her legs just naturally drawing forward so that she was on her knees. At the same time I moved behind her and between her legs, my trousers already undone and dropped.

From her point of view it must have seemed that one moment she was lying there, all relaxed and peaceful, and the next moment she was head down, bum up, and a cock was already pressing against her pussy.

"What the fuck?" she yelled. "You bastard. You said you wouldn't."

"Ah, no, I didn't actually say that," I gently reminded her. "What I said was that if you say no then you say no. I didn't say I'd go along with it."

I pressed against her, finding myself slipping easily into her. Yes or no didn't matter as far as her pussy was concerned. It was quite in favour of what I was doing.

"So, are you going to continue to say no?" I asked, still holding back somewhat, my cock having started its journey but currently at the first stages.

"NO!" she shouted loud and clear, much to my relief.

"Ah, you're not," I said happily, and proceeded to drive quickly into her, this time firmly sheathing my cock in her nice warm sheath.

"What are you doing? I said no." She sounded a little annoyed for some reason.

"I know. I heard you. I asked if you were going to say no and you said no, meaning you weren't going to say no. That means that you were saying yes. Isn't that right?"

My hands had now closed over her bounteous breasts, no longer having to be content with rubbing the sides only. A very nice handful. Two handfuls, I should say, as I had a hand over each breast.

"I said no, meaning no, I don't want you to do this," Brenda said, her annoyance level seeming to have risen slightly.

"Oh. Ah, my error, I guess. Still, you should have explained that a bit more carefully. I just thought you were answering my question."

"Are you saying it's my fault?" she asked, and she now had a dangerous note in her voice. I'm no fool. The woman is never to blame.

"Certainly not," I swiftly returned. "I already said it was my mistake. I guess I just wanted to start doing this so badly I didn't pay close enough attention. I do apologise."

When I mention what I wanted to start doing I brought my cock back and drove back in nice and hard, hearing her give a shocked gasp. Followed by another gasp as I thrust in again. Now that I'd started I meant to keep going.

Brenda had started moving with me. I don't think it was a conscious decision on her part, more of a case of her body just natural moving with nature's rhythm. She was continuing to make little gasping sounds each time I drove in. After a few moments she spoke up again.

"What do you think you're playing at? Why haven't you stopped?"

"Stopped? But we haven't finished yet. Why would I stop?"

"Why? How about because you weren't supposed to start in the first place?"

I kept driving in firmly, stroking her breasts in time to my cock dance.

"What has the fact that I wasn't supposed to start got to do with me stopping now that I have started?"

Stop? Did she think me an idiot?

"When you're not supposed to start then I'd have thought good manners would be enough to make you stop when that little fact is pointed out to you."

"But that would mean I'd be leaving you unsatisfied." (Me, too, which was just as important.) "I'd have thought that you'd consider it rude for me to stop before you've finished."

I was driving into her at a fair rate now and Brenda was with me every step of the way, no matter what she might claim afterwards. A side effect of this was that she seemed to finding it hard to concentrate on what she was trying to say, her arguments and complaints losing coherency. She gave up when she realised she was starting to babble, giving herself over to the fun and games. Forget about a natural reaction to what I was doing. She was now putting some determined effort into what WE were doing.

Things were happening faster now as we got closer to the end. I was driving home with a will and Brenda was responding, gasping and moaning. I suspected she wanted to urge me on to greater lengths. A couple of times she started to say something and hastily bit off her words. Assuming that what she wasn't saying were things like 'yes, harder,' I took them as said and obliged.

She started to make some funny sounds, incipient screams, I think, so I gave her something to scream about. I put my all into my efforts, quick short strokes that drove home full of vim and vigour, driving her over the edge quite nicely. She did scream as her climax hit her, and then I was jerking frantically against her as I climaxed, my seed being sucked from me and into her.

I collapsed onto the bed next to her. She rolled onto her back and lay there, breathing heavily, modesty no longer an issue, apparently.

"So, no coffee, then?" I observed.

"Right," she gasped. "No coffee."

"That's OK, I guess. A loving wife beats coffee any day."