Tending to Andrea

As I sit on the couch folding clothes, I find that I can’t take my eyes off of Andrea sitting in the chair opposite me.  She is oblivious, though, as she is in the middle of writing an old friend.  The night is warm, and her skin glistens a bit.

We have now been married over fifteen years, and I find Andrea more beautiful than ever.  Her strawberry blonde hair is shorter now, her figure much more Reubenesque, and she even has some wrinkles.  This mature look suits her, and I find myself longing to ditch the household duties and lead her to the bedroom.  I know better, though.  Andrea and I made love last night, and that should fill our quota for the month.

Andrea catches me looking, and after all these  years, she is easily able to read my hungry looks.  I am promptly rewarded with an “I caught you” smirk.  It’s good natured, though.  She laughs, and keeps writing.

I laugh, but feel that old frustration and longing.  My pants are tight, but more than mere sexual hunger, I long to be nude with my wife, to hold her, pleasure her.  Indeed, I would rather place my lips between her thighs than have her attend to my aroused state.  She has never let me do this, though, and I know the best thing for me to do is focus on something else.

The clothes pile up, and I am lost somewhere in space, when I feel Andrea’s lips brush my cheek.  “I love you,” she says softly, and I notice a catch in her throat.  Is she stifling a sob?  “Thanks for all you do around here,” she continues, “I know I don’t give you enough of, umm, you know.”

I grab Andrea’s ample rear, kiss her round, comforting tummy, and assure her that I love her and appreciate the incredible woman that she is.  This is heartfelt and true.  Andrea has been my best friend, she completes me, and she has always gotten me through the rough patches in life.

Unfortunately, though, my sweet wife is feeling guilty about a lot tonight.  “Look at me,” she says, and tears up.  “You’re beautiful …” I begin, but she cuts me off with, “I’m so fat, and you work hard to stay in shape.”  This is ridiculous, and I’m getting annoyed.  The woman has had two kids, works full-time, and loves me like no other could.  I hate this talk.  Besides, I love how her full body does such a nice job of framing her warm smile, honest green eyes and cute freckled nose.  I tell her all of this.

Apparently, Andrea believes me.  I think the fact that she catches me ogling her cleavage and breasts is what convinces her.  She chuckles, but it is a husky chuckle.  I notice her nipples hardening under her low cut, white blouse.

Blushing like a teenager, my wife mumbles something about reading me something, and then rushes down the hall to our bedroom.  I watch her return, and note that she is now in a tight tank top and boxers (both from my underwear drawer).  She looks good, as she stops to dim the lights to the family room.

I feel like I have just won the lottery, but my wife surprises me by returning to the same chair she had been sitting in while writing her friend Trish.  Crestfallen, I almost fail to hear Andrea begin to read.  “…so anyway, Trish, I am  glad you still love Mark.  We both married well, didn’t we?  I love Sean more now than ever.  I just wish I could do those outrageous things for him.  You know, like you do for Mark.  I can’t believe you went down on him like that while staying at his parents’ house!  I guess I was raised to think that such behavior is wrong even in marriage.  Now I wonder, though.  I wish I could get over my inhibitions.”

My mouth must be hanging open, for Andrea’s shy glance quickly transforms itself into a chuckle.  Just as quickly, she turns serious and looks intently at me.  She starts to get up, and whispers a shocking promise concerning what she is about to do to me with her mouth.  Such an incredible turn of events, but as excited as I am, I am sure something even better awaits.

I slowly get up, meet my beloved half way, and kiss her gently on the lips.  As I taste the salt on her skin, my mind drifts back almost two decades.  I can clearly see my sweet, shy girl waiting for me after church.  Probing, but nervous green eyes, beautiful strawberry blonde hair, pale skin dusted with freckles, plaid school girl skirt and white tights.  I remember that the cute freckles on her legs peeked through those white tights.  Refocusing on the lovely, full figured woman in front of me, I am overcome by tender protectiveness, and a white hot desire to please her.

Standing in the middle of our family room, our mouths slowly begin a mating ritual.  Our tongues are familiar and skilled.  Deep kisses, and gentle words.  My kisses find her neck, and she tastes wonderful in the warmth of the evening.  My hands slide inside the arm holes of the damp tank softly clutching her body.  The flimsy fabric gives away easily as my fingers work their way across her erect nipples.

Andrea’s back arches, she grabs my hair.  I feel a shiver of excitement knowing she is now opening up to me in a way she never has before.  Sliding to my knees, I kiss her beautiful stomach, but do not allow my hands to forget their duty to her breasts.

I realize, though, that in Andrea’s mind it is still about me.  She easily slides my boxers down to her ankles, then awkwardly  slips them down and off, turning over on all fours.  Andrea, down on a soft area rug with her beautiful white bottom beckoning me, is incredibly tempting, but I am overcome with tenderness.  Gently I massage her back and rear.  After a few, sweet kisses, and strokes, I carefully support Andrea’s body, and roll her onto her back.

Eyes wide open with surprise, Andrea silently questions me, and then she knows what I need
to do for her.  She has never let me kiss her there before, but now she simply, but firmly, pushes on  my shoulders.  Gratefully, I lick and kiss her swollen nipples, but still she pushes me downward.  I linger at her tummy, caressing, and kissing, before moving along.  Andrea is pushing with an insistence I have never experienced.

Nails press into my shoulders, gentle tickles from strawberry fuzz greet my lips and nose.  I inhale the warm, feminine, musky scent, emanating from my wife’s precious garden.  We both moan slightly, as I breath in as deeply a I can.  I feel like I am finally home.

My lips kiss Andrea’s thighs, the perimeter of her garden, and then finally nibble her outer lips.  These are first kisses, and they fill my heart.  Andrea pulls my held closer.  She clearly indicates that she likes the flat broad licks that are stroking her.  My mouth moves closer to her special, tender spot under a protective veiled hood of flesh.

I feel like I am both making out as well as intimately communing with my wife.  Andrea has some strong ideas at this point.  She tugs my hair, and shoves her womanhood toward my mouth.  All the while she continues to instruct the swirls of my obedient mouth and tongue.

Gasping, but happy, I take the full force of Andrea’s pelvic thrust.  I don’t know if she is crying moaning, or yelling.  I do know my baby is now relaxed, and she is pulling my head onto her chest, hoarsely whispering her love to me.  I glance up and see Andrea smile.  I feel closer to my wife than than ever.

Andrea continued to stroke my shaft with her slender, but powerful, left hand.  I arched my back and enjoyed the continued tweaking of my tender right nipple.

Again, I reached for my wife’s beautiful, sagging tits, and again she slapped my hand away.  This was very unusual.  Her eyes were kind, but steely, she was in charge.  “Get your ass in the air now!”

I had never heard anything like this from my life, but it made my stomach quiver, and my hardened member throb.  I could only hope she would play with my hole.  She did.  A well greased finger was poking and prodding, and I shivered.  Something hard was straining at my puckered ass.

I jumped forward and rolled over.  Above me, huge engorged nipples highlighted the creamy, gigantic, tits swaying from side to side.  Beautiful, yes, but there was something new.  A large, black and gleaming, dildo protruded from her pelvis.  She wasn’t embarrassed, just annoyed by the pause.  Shocked, but aroused by the sexy sensation that accompanies a partner’s desire, I returned to my kneeling position.

Slowly, but painfully, the lubricated dildo broke its way into me.  While the pain never went completely away, arousal started to take over.  I thrust my rear back, trembled at the nibbles, licks and kisses I was experiencing on my neck.  Andrea hoarsely, and repeatedly told me how “hot and cute” I looked, how good I smelled, and how good it was to take me.

Before I knew what was going on, Andrea had pulled out of me.  My gaping hole wanted more, and I stuck two fingers in.  I began working the ridges of my hole, and the throbbing lining of my interior.  I saw Andrea overhead, back to me, working the belt that the dildo was attached to.  I reached up with my available, right, hand, and yanked it off.  I was rewarded with a mouthful of hot, tangy pussy.  She ground that delight  into me, and I struggled to serve her.

My tits were aroused, as Andrea’s hands continued rubbing them raw.  Then she bucked and drove her mound into me.  I struggled to breathe, and then my wife screamed foul words, writhed and fell back on me.

I quickly came against her ample, creamy white, back.  Our sweat mingled, our hands found each other, our fingers interlocked.  I whispered words of love to my precious wife.  I had always loved Andrea without reservation, and now, many years into our marriage, she was showing me a sense of adventure I had never seen before.  I was overwhelmed with thankfulness and appreciation.