Reawakening Ch. 01

"Hi hon! I'm home!" I heard my wife call down the basement stairs.

"Down here lover!" I called back up from my shop. Most guys have a den or man cave, or whatever you want to call it. After nearly thirty-five years working as an engineer in classified related, well, 'stuff' is all I can say, I've learned that the best way for me to unwind, is to spend time teasing pieces of wood into beautiful furniture. I wasn't looking forward to retirement in a few years, but one thing I wouldn't miss, was being unable to discuss what happened at work, with even my wife.

I heard her coming down the stairs, her high heels clop-clopping on each hardwood tread. It took a few moments for my brain to process that the clop-clop, seemed to echo oddly, but not quite in sync. No, that wasn't an echo, it was a second pair of heels coming down the stairs. I guessed maybe Julia, our neighbor, that was probably my wife's best friend in the world, besides me that is. I set aside the piece I was preparing to mount in my wood lathe and walked to the shop door, looking out across the finished, 'game room' portion of the eighteen hundred square foot basement. At least that's what the kids called it, when they were growing up. It had a pool table, that was barely ever used anymore, multiple sofas and tables and a flat screen TV on one wall. I saw my wife, wearing the same, nice-looking dress she had been putting on when I left for work, and someone else behind her.

I didn't recognize the other woman. She was a bit younger than my wife's fifty-seven; well, on second look, maybe quite a bit younger. As she stepped next to my wife, I could see she was maybe late thirties or early forties, very well shaped in all the right places. Her dress was considerably shorter than my wife's mid-thigh dress, a tiny strip of light chocolate brown skin showing between the very short black skirt and the tops of what looked to me, to be real silk stockings, held up by a black garter belt. The black dress clung to her curves like a second skin, hugging her round, full hips, her clearly firm, flat stomach and narrow waist, and then out and around her large breasts. My wife had a nice rack for a woman of her age, though her thirty-eight double Ds needed quite a bit of support now, but the clearly African-American woman, standing next to her, sported a set of breasts even larger, with no indication of bra straps over her shoulders.

The black dress ended high on her breasts, but not without leaving a considerable expanse, of her light brown skin, of her upper chest, exposed, with the exception of a tiny loop of material extending from the center of the dress, between her big boobs, up around her neck. Her, not quite black, hair, was shoulder length and was curled at the bottom in long looping curls, that brushed her bare shoulders and framed her neck and face like a curly picture frame. I had to admit, she looked stunning, and well, yeah, sexy as hell, though I'd never say that in front of my wife.

"Dan, this is Rachel." My wife, Lisa, said, as she stood at the base of the stairs, clearly waiting for me to come closer to them.

I started to walk toward them, planning on shaking her hand. I could see her eyes travel up and down my body at least twice, maybe three times, almost as if she were a lioness evaluating a passing animal, to see if it was going to be a suitable meal. As I approached, she stepped toward me, closing the last few feet quickly, not reaching for my extended hand, but stepping right past it, until her body was fractions of an inch from mine. I could smell the scent of her floral perfume, seeming to be the same, or at least very similar to the one I gave my wife almost every year for her birthday. Her arms moved out toward me, one circling my waist and the other my shoulders. She pressed her cheek to mine as she pulled us together; in what, I felt, was an awkward and unexpected hug. I stood there, my hands sticking past her, not sure what to do, while my wife stood there, trying to suppress the grin, I could see, attempting to surface on her face.

"Daniel, it's so good to meet you!" Rachel said, as she hugged me. "You can hug me back, I won't break." She added, leaving me the impression that she wasn't intending to release me until I had done just that. I closed my arms around her and gently hugged her back, her arms taking that as an invitation to hug tighter. She pressed our bodies together her tits and nipples pressing through my thin t-shirt into my chest and her pelvis pressing against mine, trapping my rapidly hardening dick between us. After what felt like at least an hour, but was probably only half a dozen seconds, she eased her grip on my body, allowing a few millimeters of space between our chests. "Lisa has told me so much about you. I can see she hasn't exaggerated one bit."

"She has?" I asked, completely mystified, as to just who this woman was.

Her arm around my waist eased its hold and her hand slid across my butt and the pair of athletic shorts I typically wore when working in my shop in the warmer months. That hand continued to slide over both my butt cheeks, around my left hip and then between us, rubbing her palm and fingers up and down over the bulge that had grown between us.

"Well, should we go up and eat?" My wife said brightly, turning and starting up the stairs.

I looked at Rachel's eyes staring at me, looking for a reaction. I opened my mouth to say something, and then closed it, her hand still pressed against my dick, moving ever so slightly to coax it even harder. "Sure, I didn't see anything out thawing, so I didn't start anything cooking." I finally managed to call after my retreating wife.

"No worries, I picked something up," she said, from halfway up the stairs. Rachel finally released me and without a word, turned and walked up the stairs after my wife. Each step seemed to make the already short skirt, slide up her full round butt a little more, leaving not only the tops of her stockings and the clips of her garter belt exposed, but also the see through black panty she had on. With each step it seemed like more and more of her was exposed, the short dress hiking up her cheeks with each step. I couldn't help but look, as I walked up behind her, my head nearly at the same height as her sexy butt. She made no move what-so-ever to pull the skirt back into place, as she climbed the stairs, or as she stepped from the basement into the kitchen, the tight hem of the skirt pulled tight across her firm, hot coco colored, cheeks. She followed my wife to the kitchen table, where a couple of bags were standing.

"You want to get some plates down? The cabinet next to the sink." Lisa said to her friend, as stopped at the table to begin unpacking the bags. I watched Rachel step to the cabinet by the sink and open it, choosing the correct one on the first try. She reached into the cabinet, and drew out three plates and turned back to bring them to the table, the hem of the dress pulled high enough now to completely expose her, almost black, pussy through the see through black panties. "You want to get some glasses?" My wife asked me, her request pulling me from the gawking I was doing, at her extremely sexy friend.

"Uh, yeah. Sure." I stammered, before walking toward and then past Rachel, to get glasses from the cabinet next to where the dishes were. "You want forks too?" I asked.

"What do you think Rachel?" I heard my wife ask her friend.

"Not for me. Chopsticks are just fine." I heard Rachel reply, not from the table, but from behind me. I felt her hands rest on my hips, then her right hand slid around my waist. Her fingers slipped into the waistband of my shorts and then her hand pushed down into them. I felt her fingers touch the elastic band of my boxer briefs, and deftly work under there as well. She pushed her hand slowly down, her fingers finding my hard-on and closing around it. She moved it to straighten it up and then slowly withdrew her hand, her fingers stroking the length of my shaft as she removed her hand. I stood there, afraid to complain and get her in trouble with my wife, and at the same time, nervous that my wife might see what was going on any second, and become rightfully angry.

"Well?" I heard Lisa say from the table.

"I'm surprised he hasn't complained about my advances. Probably trying to protect your feelings. But you were quite correct, he does have a very nice sized dick. Erection speed and firmness seem to be relatively normal. Straight with no signs of PD. Nicely shaped head. Circumcised. All in all, a good quality dick so far." Rachel said, as she finished pulling her hand from my shorts and stepping back.

I turned around and looked at Rachel and then my wife, and back again, my jaw hanging open. "What the hell is going on?" I finally managed to get out.

My wife stepped toward me, passing Rachel who was now walking toward the table, pulling her skirt back into place to cover her cheeks. Lisa stepped right up to me, circled her arms around my waist and leaned into me to kiss my lips softly. "Trust me, I'm not going to be upset that she stuck her hand down your pants. She said she was going to tease you, to see how hard you got."

"I don't get it." I said, trying to hold my voice down, but having difficulty. "You wanted her to make a pass at me?" I'd have pushed her back so I could look at her face more clearly, but both hands were full of glasses.

"I did. And you'll understand. Just, trust me. I love you. Nothing means more to me than you do, you know that. Just, let me explain over dinner, okay?"

I looked past her to the table, covered with containers from one of our favorite sushi places. "And that's the reason for one of my favorite meals?"

"Could be," she said with a smile. "Please," she whispered?

If my wife knew anything about me, it was how to get me to do what she wanted. She knew, that if she asked me like this, that I'd agree to almost anything she wanted. I say, almost, because so far, I'd only refused her one request. Not because I didn't love her, or want her to be happy, but; well, to be frank, talking about my problem in front of my primary care physician, a woman doctor, was kind of difficult. So, for two years, I'd put it off. "Let me guess. This is because I won't go talk to the doctor about you know what?

"You know what? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sweetie. We both know what I'm talking about."

"Yes, I do." She giggled. "Come eat." I nodded, as she stepped back and used the waistband of my shorts as a handle, pulling me with her as she walked backwards to the table. She stopped when her butt bumped the table. Only then did she let go of me and moved to her own seat. She sat down, as did Rachel, leaving me standing looking at the two of them. "Come on lover. Sit down and eat. You know you want to."

I sighed and sat down, "I said I'd go and talk to the doctor."

"I know. But that was two years ago and you haven't, yet. So, we're just going to make the whole process easier." She said, before taking a bite of a sushi roll. "Rachel here is a qualified medical professional. On top of that, she's a highly qualified sexual therapist. So, in the privacy of our own home, she's going to help find out why you, well, you do what you do."

"I see." I said with a frown. Now I understood. I'd not gone to talk to the doctor about the fact that I could get it up, and get started, but then, for reasons I didn't understand, it just kind of faded away. I didn't want to have to resort to downing fifty bucks of pills, each time I wanted to have sex with my wife! And after having this super embarrassing talk with my doctor, the best I expected her to be able to do, was to prescribe Viagra. If I couldn't talk to my doctor, how was I supposed to talk to this...this...incredibly sexy, and clearly provocative, sexual therapist? I mean, there isn't much more embarrassing to a man, or probably a woman, than to have to discuss their own sexual dysfunction.

I tried not to frown as I ate, but given what Rachel had already done, with absolutely no protest from my wife, made me wonder; just how far my wife was willing to let things go? Normally a meal like this would be seriously enjoyed. She'd selected all of my favorite sushi rolls, even the ones that she knows I like but she doesn't care that much for.

"Lisa, why don't you sit on Daniel's lap, then the two of you can feed each other," Rachel suggested?

"That sounds fun." Lisa answered, getting up from her chair. She stepped over to me and waited for me to push back from the table. I looked back and forth between the two women, seeing that they were indeed serious. I sighed and pushed my chair back to make room for my wife. She sat on my lap sideways, her legs hanging over my right leg and her butt resting on my left. She used her chopsticks to select a piece of a roll, dipped it in soy sauce, the way I like it, and then, cupping one hand under it, just in case, twisted herself to feed me the section of roll. I couldn't help but chuckle as she giggled, "we haven't done anything like this in years!"

"No, we haven't." I agreed. Several pieces of sushi roll later, some given to me, some shared with her, Rachel made her next suggestion.

"Okay, Lisa, Daniel. Why don't you two undress each other?"

"What? Here? Now?" I asked. "In front of you?"

"Why not? You're having fun. Why not have a little more while you're eating? Trust me, you don't have anything that I haven't seen before. I'm a medical professional, this is a perfectly normal request."

"But...while we're eating?" My wife asked, a little surprised.

"Why not? All we're going to do, is inject a little more fun into eating."

"Well, um." My wife said, clearly hesitant to comply.

"We talked that we'd be pushing your comfort zone, and you agreed to do whatever I suggested. Is this really that far out of your comfort zone already?"

"Well, um. I guess not." Lisa answered her. She set aside the chopsticks and stood up, turning to face me. She started to pull the dress up her body.

"Uh-uh, each other. Let him undress you, and you undress him." Rachel coaxed. I looked at her, then shrugged and stood up. Lisa and I stood looking at each other for a few moments, neither of us sure where to start. I knew what she had on, so it wasn't like I didn't know how to start undressing her, it was just that; well, we'd never done this in front of a stranger. "You two aren't bashful, are you?" Rachel asked with a grin. "Here, let me get you started." She stood up, walked around the table to us and then turned me to face her. She took my hands in hers and pulled them to the hem of the black form fitting dress. "Now, you just take the material, then you pull it up." She said, using her hands to make mine grasp her dress and pull it up. She pushed my hands up, rolling the black dress over itself as I pulled it up her body, exposing more of her coco brown skin. I pulled, until the dress rolled itself up to her breasts, then over the big brown orbs. She let go of my hands and reached behind her neck to work the loop of material over her head, completely freeing the dress from her body.

I hadn't thought she had a bra on, but I was surprised that she did, of sorts. It was a lace bra with cups that came up just barely above her nipples, leaving a significant portion of her extremely large dark brown areola exposed above the lace. The cups were large, and held to her body by a long lace bodice that wrapped around her, extending nearly to her belly button, the entire thing held together by a crisscross black string that looked insufficient to hold her melon sized breasts in check. I stood there, staring at her boobs, as I held her dress in my hand.

"Honey!" my wife snapped, slapping me lightly on the arm, to snap me out of the trance.

"Huh? Oh, um. Yeah. Sorry I didn't mean to stare," I mumbled, not really sure who I was really apologizing too, my wife or Rachel.

"Oh, I don't mind. I always consider it a compliment when a man can't keep his eyes off of them." Rachel said, with a grin as she hefted both, obviously heavy, orbs inside the lace encasement. "Now, why don't you do the same to your wife."

"Huh? Stare at her tits?" I asked in sudden confusion, which garnered a soft feminine chuckle from Rachel.

"Well, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you did, but I was referring to taking her dress off."

"Oh, yeah." I said, turning slightly to face Lisa. I reached for the hem of her dress and started to pull it up, not getting help, but instead a frown.

"Really? You going to tell me you've forgotten how to undress me?" When I didn't respond, she pushed my hands away from her dress and turned around, to show me the zipper down the back.

"Oh, yeah, sorry hon." I said, reaching for the zipper.

"That distracted by her breasts?" She asked, as I slid the zipper down her back.

"Sorta. Sorry love." I apologized, as I slipped the dress off her shoulders.

"Actually, there should be no need to apologize." Rachel said, as Lisa turned to face me again, taking the dress from my hand. "I mean, men are biologically designed to look. It's a natural expression of their biological maleness. As long as it's only looking, and not touching, it's a healthy expression you really should embrace."

"You don't think I should mind, that he looks at another woman's breasts?" Lisa asked quickly.

"That depends. Do you prefer he doesn't?"

"Well, of course I do."

"Why?"

"Well, um. I'm not sure."

Rachel smiled. "I can tell by your body language. You feel threatened. You're afraid that your husband is going to find something else more interesting than you."

"I am not!" Lisa answered, almost angrily.

Rachel looked at her, the smile still not leaving her face. "Lisa, we talked about this. You have to be honest, not only with me and Daniel, but with yourself, if this is going to work. So, taking a step back, why do you feel threatened by him looking at my body?"

"Hell! You're younger and sexier than I am. I'm getting old and it shows."

"Has Daniel ever complained? About your looks I mean."

"Well, um, no."

"Has he given you reason to think that he's even thinking about something or someone younger?"

"Well, um, not exactly."

"Then what exactly?"

"I see him look at those younger women, in those really short skirts and stuff. I know what he has to be thinking."

"You do? And what is that, exactly?"

"He's thinking about undressing them. What else does a guy think about?"

"How about it, Daniel? When you look at a sexy young thing in a short skirt, what are you thinking about?"

"Well, sure, I mean, I think some about what they'd look like out of it. But I also think about what Lisa would look like in something like that."

"You wish." Lisa said, with a frown.

"Now wait a moment, Lisa! He's entitled to his thoughts and opinions, just like you are. Daniel, tell me, why do you want to see your wife in outfits that she clearly doesn't think she would look good in."

"Because she would. I mean, no, she's not thirty anymore, but she still has a damn good-looking body and I like seeing it."

"Now, that sounds fair. What about the dress I had on. Do you think she would look good in something like that?"

"Oh yeah!" I said with a grin.

"Interesting. Alright. I was going to suggest that the two of you finish dinner naked, but I think it might be interesting if you wear my dress, Lisa."

"You want me to wear that?"

"I'm sure it'll fit. Why don't the two of you get undressed, and then you can put the dress on your wife. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great!" I agreed quickly.

"Alright, why don't you both finish undressing each other?"

"Everything?"

"EVERYTHING!" Rachel stressed. "I'm sure you both have seen each other naked many times, this should be an easy ask."