Thirty-Five Years Brings Déjà vu to Reality

By H.G. Hunt

Chapter 21

On the drive back home Brent and Jean jabbered nonstop. The events as they unfolded had released Jean from her decades old bondage and yearning. She felt free. She knew Brent had a fantasy fulfilled like none before. She recognized the threshold that had been crossed regarding their shared sexuality and that there would be no going back to “life as it was” before. Yet even if there were never to be any reoccurrence of similar events, the reward from what had happened today would be with them for the rest of their active sexual lives. The power of her victory, as razor thin as it was, had elevated her understanding of desire, lust, expression, and determination to keenness she’d never comprehended prior.

The hour that it took them to make it home was not enough to relive the entire afternoon, but they tried. Jean answered questions about moments of doubt that were prevalent for much of her contest with Lisa. Jean confirmed that doubt had crept into her mind from time to time, but that she never felt like a crisis was imminent. She also acknowledged how totally involved she was in giving and receiving pleasure with Lisa. Her ancient interlude that had been only a “talking point” in their reminiscences and fantasies had now blossomed into a real-life transcending event. She openly gushed to Brent about how sexy Lisa was and how the hatred she felt for her was all mixed up with the lust she felt. Where one ended and the other began she could not identify.

One of the more intriguing admissions was the fact that not all the events he had witnessed were exactly as they had seemed to be. She allowed that the orgasm that she had earned on top of Lisa, and by extension with Brent, was not her first of the afternoon. “I had an orgasm when I was fucking Bill.” She hoped Brent wouldn’t be offended, with him knowing that never in their years of marriage had she ever come without some sort of clit play. “And that isn’t all. I came when Lisa fucked me with that wine bottle too.”

Brent was flabbergasted to say the least. Not offended, just stupefied. He shot her a quizzical look as they cruised down the highway. She smiled at him and tried to explain. She wasn’t philosophizing, but simply trying to put into words what had happened.

“Those orgasms were different than any I’d ever had before. They came on more slowly, not like a huge tidal wave, but more like the gentle tide coming in. It was as if I could control it. It felt so good, both times to be impaled like that, in front of everyone including you; first by the bottle and then by Bill’s thick hard cock. They were two small moments of vulnerability and they sent me into an almost cerebral orgasm. They both flowed long and lazy through me for nearly a minute before they subsided. I really, really loved them. But I don’t think anyone recognized that I was having them. They didn’t set off my usual post-orgasmic sensitivity that would have forbid me from continuing. They just sort of washed away. It was great; knowing I was in control like that.”

“Wow!” was all Brent could muster in response. He wasn’t offended in the least. To him it was almost a relief to find out that there was another layer of arousal that had just been awakened in his wife. He hoped that it would precipitate moments that he could tap into in the future.

The fact that the admission revealed a very different context for Jean’s victory over Lisa was not lost on Brent. But he didn’t question Jean about that at all. For her part, there was no second guessing the fairness of her victory at all. To her it was purely a matter of control, whether it was the self-control she’d shown herself by hiding her orgasm, or the control both physical and mental she managed over Lisa in portions of the fight.

Jean questioned Brent about his perceptions too. He revealed much, including the aching blue balls he struggled with for over an hour. He revealed in honesty that he had been worried at times that Jean might lose, and he hoped Jean wasn’t offended by his thoughts. She was not, but it did re-emphasize for her that those moments of doubt that had crept into her own thinking during the fight were probably apparent to the others as well, and that to an “outsider” it must have seemed as though the outcome could have gone either way. She had sort of blocked out the loss to Lisa in the titfight and it made her recoil a bit when Brent brought it up. He also brought up what he considered as a likely bit of information that to him was the only discernible tidbit that to an objective observer might have tipped the scale in Jean’s favor. He had no way of knowing how much Lisa weighed, but he was a good enough judge of women’s bodies to recognize that Jean had more body mass and heft than Lisa; how much he knew not, but he wasn’t surprised when his wife felt offended when he mentioned it to her.

“What the fuck? You think I only beat her because I weigh more? That’s bullshit. I beat her because I beat her. I fucked her over and made her cum with my pussy pounding her pussy. She just isn’t the woman I am.” She didn’t despise Brent over the remark, but she wasted no time in “setting him straight” on the matter.

With the honesty they were sharing, Brent offered his own admission. Describing their final humiliating rendezvous atop Lisa’s reclining body; him with his cock buried to the hilt in her pussy and Jean riding roughshod over her face, he sheepishly confided to Jean what a terrific fuck it had been.

“When I was fucking Lisa, it felt like a swarm of little pythons were squeezing my dick. She was so wet and so incredibly tight. It felt like she never wanted my cock to leave. I was in heaven and I didn’t want to come at all. I just wanted to fuck her and fuck her and fuck her forever. She was fabulous.”

He worried over Jean’s response, but felt good that he had gotten that off his chest.

Jean just smiled across the console at him; a far-off look in her eye and not a hint of disapproval. “Well, I guess we’re even then. ‘Cause you know what. Her tongue gave my pussy the best god-damned licking it’s ever had. The perfection of her technique pushed my orgasm to heights I’d never known existed before… No offense Brent.”

He laughed out loud. They both had made equally dangerous admissions about their feelings for how Lisa had given them both their most erotic and fulfilling sexual stimulation of their lives. Yet neither was offended by the thought. The strangeness of what had just happened didn’t even sink in as they glided down the highway.

Lisa’s drive home alone was yin and yang. She groaned over the humiliation of the loss, yet thrilled at the overall experience; recognizing the supreme fulfillment that had consumed her in the moments throughout the fight. She wondered if she’d ever do it again. She wondered what was going through Jean’s mind right now. She ached over the disparity between her expectation of showing off her sexual prowess in front of the friends she’d invited and the reality of watching Jean give and receive so much pleasure from the throng. She reminisced about the intensity of feelings she had felt when the couple had mounted her. She remembered almost gagging when the man-juices seeping out of Jean’s wet cunt had wickedly crowded into her throat. She vividly recalled the oxygen depravation and the exhilaration and almost euphoria it had produced. She took a few deep sucking breaths and could instinctively remember the scent, odor, and taste of Jean’s slutty cunt. And yet none of that turned her off. Deep in her gut she even felt jolts of re-emerging horniness. Her breath became ragged. It wasn’t texting, but she began using her fingers in a way that prudent drivers would do well to avoid, especially at 70 mph. She managed to keep the car under control, but the ride home produced at least two more orgasms sprung from the surging hormones that just wouldn’t die down.