Touched Down Deep...Ch. 1

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Elaine finds what she has been seeking for at home.
2.5k words
4.29
55.8k
9

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/08/2022
Created 06/30/2001
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"Touched Down Deep"
Or
"The Smiths Family Return, Part I"

Elaine stood on the front porch of her suburban home, searching the darkness around her for the glim of a cigarette. Of course, none was to be found. That would be typical for things in her life here lately.

Sighing, she leaned against the railing, hating herself for wanting one in the first place. She had quit years ago, before her first pregnancy, and then again after having take up the habit again for awhile after the twins were born. At the time, it had helped ease the stress of reentry into the job market, and formed the basis of a connection with some of the younger women she worked, and competed, with. David, her husband of 19 years had finally gotten enough, and launched a covert campaign in concert with the four kids.

Cigarettes had disappeared to be replaced with gum and the patch, the lighter thingy in her car was abducted, magazines left open to anti-smoking adds, and pictures of smokers lungs placed in her purse had all be tactics they used in their guerrilla war against the cancer stick, as they called it.

But wasn't it his fault that she wanted one, she thought? Yeah, with her eyes still closed she could rationalize it that way. It was all his fault, she thought as she squeezed her legs, still feeling the heat.

It had started several month ago, when David had asked if anything was wrong. She could not place it really, but she knew she was in some kind of rut. But at age 40, with your oldest about to turn 16, and with all that meant for teenage boys, and with a 14 year old, and two 6 year olds, plus two dogs, three cats, a turtle, a ferret, and two birds, plus a husband who worked to much, and a job that took to much time as well, who would not be?

Several days later, her husband had come home with several pizzas and two rented videos, placed the kids infront of the TV, and taken her out to dinner. There he had announced that he had given up golf, sold all his equipment, and registered her for a class at the local community college.

"What class?" That had been the only response she could muster in her stunned state, as he pushed the course catalog across the table.

"Literature 420. I remember before Sarah was born, you wanted to take that poetry course, but the pregnancy got in the way. So I decided I would sign you up for it."

That night they had made love, not the perfunctory sex that seemed to be part of the relationship ritual after all these years.

So she had gone to class two nights a week, and enjoyed it so much that she signed up for the follow on course. There she had meet Andre.

Andre was, of course, French. A recent immigrant to what he called "the nation of fitness," he was a had chocolate brown eyes, black hair, a body to die for, and was a out of work fitness trainer.

After getting him a job at her Y, he was ever grateful, and very attentive during her random workout sessions. Just one more thing she did not really have time for. They had become study partners, often sitting in one of the coffee houses off campus after class, reading poetry, and flirting.

Eventually the sideways glances she had not experienced since college had given way to slight touches, and heavier flirting, which lead to poems written for one another, and not-so-hidden hugs when they saw each other. He sometimes would add what he called the "customary" kiss on her cheek, leaving her feeling hot and flushed.

One night their tongues had danced in what she thought was her most passionate kiss ever, after he read a poem she had written, his intonation and inflection bringing out parts she did not even know were there. He replied with a poem describing very explicitly, yet sensually what his tongue would do to her. It made her wet just to think about the things he had said.

They had studied together for the final they had taken tonight, and gone out with much of the class afterwards to celebrate the end of it, and the experience it had been.

She had no idea how much she had to drink, but he had bought a bottle of wine at the bar, and then they had polished off half of another one at his apartment. He had read her another poem, "written just for you," and before she knew it, she was in his lap, tongues dancing back and forth, his hand everywhere.

Her next conscious memory was of clothes flying everywhere, and the heat of his lips on her skin, roving her like a dog marking territory. And she was in heat. He had lifted her in his strong arms, his teeth nibbling and suckling on her nipples as he carried her into the bedroom.

She figured he had planned this, from the candle light dancing on the sparse walls, and the cool, crisp, fresh sheets. His hands took over on her full breasts, as the heat and moisture of his tongue headed south, finding her lips and pushing past them to find her clit.

It felt like forever, but was probably only seconds that it took him to tease it out from under its hood, and become gorged with blood. Wrapping his tongue around it, he sucked, licked, flicked, nibbled, and teased it, until the soft shock of her first orgasm of the night had shot through her.

Closing her eyes, she surrendered herself to the sureality of the situation, hands grasping the sheets for support as he drank her juices and continued to pleasure her with his mouth.

One hand had abandoned her tit, tracing the skin on her tummy to her ass, squeezing it, before a finger had pushed into her. Along with his tongue, the motion had been a soft seesawing of in and out, stimulating her clit and labia in a explosion of sensation.

The next orgasm raced through her blood like electric current, as he pushed his finger all the way into her, touching her G-spot, and brought her back to reality.

Pushing him of her body, and grabbing her clothes, she had raced out of his apartment before she had time to think about having second thoughts about her second thoughts.

The drive back had been a emotional roller coaster, as she battled with herself to turn around, continue home, or find the closest bar, and get totally drunk. The first seemed appealing, as Andre had described the things he would do to her, if she only let him, those dark eyes imploring her to let him, just let him.

"What is wrong with me?" Cheating, she knew, was totally normal. The girls in her office talked about it the same way they talked about what color shoes was now in. there was wide and varied reason, and she could fit most of those criteria.

Lack of sex in her marriage? Check. It was not even that there was to little of it. It was simply that it had become routine, perfunctory, and unexciting. Like probably all women at her age, she wondered if she was still attractive to her husband, but then again, if a the young Frenchman wanted her, should that not parlay her fears?

Of course, some of the older women often spoke of a desire to do something for themselves as a reason to cheat. To have something away from husband, family, obligation, something free and independent. She sighed once more, then turned and walked into the house.

The living room was dark, except for the flicker of the TV, some announcer on MSNBC explaining the market moves just before closing, and what they meant, since tomorrow would be a holiday, and no more trading until Monday.

She stood, looking at the scene before her in the twilight of the flashing numbers and talking heads. Her husband was sprawled across the couch, his body taking the entire length of the leather furnishing, the TV reflecting back in wild distortion on his balding head, glimmering in his graying hair.

The twins had curled up atop their father, and his arms held them to him in the way that a father will invariably protect his youngest daughters, especially in the stages of young childhood. Sarah, their oldest daughter was laying atop the whole display, her head between her two younger sisters. Atop the back of the couch, her two cats had made themselves at home, while the floor had become the refuge for three of four blankets, atop which the dogs, the ferret, and her son had bedded down for the night. She was sure that Hamlet, the ferret, and Rookie, their giant lab, provided enough warmth for John.

There was a soft purring, and she looked down to see her own cat, Sleepy, rubbing against her. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she picked up the young feline, nuzzling it with her nose.

They exchanged soft purrs, as another tear made its way across her face. How could she ever have considered betraying her husband, her family? She choked, trying to hold back tears

"Am I that horrible a person?" She hugged the cat tight, causing it to miao in protest, as she looked down at her family.

"Honey?" David moved slowly, trying hard not to wake the younger members of his family.

A bright, radiant smile slowly crept across his face as he recognized his wife. He blew her a kiss, as he began to slowly extract himself from his bedding.

Elaine could not even answer, as she saw the happiness her mere presence brought to the man she had married. He came to her, and she let Sleepy return to his nightly prowling of the house, as he took her in his arms, and she buried her face in his chest.


"How the exam go?" The only response was a muffled mumble, as he wrapped her in his arms, and moved her to the bedroom.

Breaking away from him, she quickly stepped into the bathroom that adjoined their master bedroom, and closed the door. The light hurt her eyes, as her fingers found the switch on their own, and her visage did not help, either.

Her eyes were tear filled and red, her make up smeared. Stripping down, she climbed into the shower, letting the warm water cascade across her skin, and strip away the stress she had inflicted on herself lately.

She was turned and had her eyes closed, so she did not realize she was not alone until his arms closed around her, pulling one body to another. His lips found her skin, gently caressing it, as his hands held her to him, enjoying the feel of her skin against him.

"Something wrong?"

She turned towards him, and for a second there was silence, before their lips became one, and they stood under the spray of water, kissing for what seemed like forever.

Turning of the water, they stepped onto the soft carpet without saying a word. Elaine turned to grab a towel, when she felt his hands once more, on her hips, nudging her into the cold marble top of the counter.

The cold stone focused her attention, as his hot breath returned to her ear, his voice hoarse and low with excitement. "Hold Still."

Kissing and caressing her, one hand found her wetness, spreading her legs, the weight of his torso bending her over until only her arms stopped their downward descent.

It took forever. He seemed to not even be moving, except that her body was screaming that he had to be, agonizingly, agonizingly, slowly pushing his hardness into her velvety tunnel. Finally he was deep inside of her, the familiar feeling of completeness brining tears to her eyes once more.

His teeth founder her shoulder, and he picked up the pace, his hips rocking into her, almost lifting her of the ground. She gasped for air, screwing her eyes shut, and bit down on her lip to keep from screaming.

The first orgasm surprised her, shaking her, and almost slipping past her conscious as a shrill yell, but she bit his arm instead, her fingernails leaving claw marks on his hands and forearms, as he almost slipped out, then jammed himself into her again, his breath hard and heavy.

She swore she could feel his heartbeat in his chest, pressing against her back, as he suddenly slipped out, but instantly slammed back inside, driving her over the edge again.

"Take me to...to bed!"

Without leaving her, David picked up his wife of almost twenty years, and carried her back into the bedroom. Dripping wet, they fell into the tangled mass of sheets, kissing and touching each other.

This time he moved slower, as their faces were inches from each other, eyes locked, his hips pumping in a slow, steady motion, reaching deeper and deeper into her.

Looking into his eyes, she could see deep into his being, and see the light of his love shinning for her. It made her want to cry again, but suddenly she felt the familiar shudder of his body right before he came.

The sensation sent her over the edge, as she grabbed his face, and their lips came together. Screams were sent into the others mouth, tongues battled, as both exploded in a fierce orgasm. Each spurt of his seed seemed to set her off again, as his hard cock fired again, again, again, as if it would never end.

He never stopped fucking her, until finally he was spent, collapsing atop his wife.

The only sound was that of gasping, as they tried to not wake the kids sleeping less then ten feet away. Finally the cuddled close to each other, husband and wife eye to eye in their own bed, wet with sweat, cum, and perspiration.

Both asked at the same time. "What got into you..."

Elaine smiled, and allowed herself to be wrapped up in David's arms. Both just lay there, until she nudged him gently with her head.

"Yes honey?"

"There is a massage class that starts in two weeks. Want to take it with me?"

"You saying I can't massage you now?" His hand slid down her body, the rough skin of it teasing her ass, as he squeezed it, then pushed further to her wetness.

"There is always room for improvement. And besides, I would be there with you, ensuring a mutual level of enjoyment." The last part was said with a sigh, as his finger found her clit, and began to draw small circles on it.

"I'll show you enjoyment." Rolling onto of his wife, they kissed again, his hard cock pressing against her thigh.

Elaine closed her eyes, as his lips began to caress her skin. She knew why she had not cheated. No man could touch her so deep inside as her David.

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26thNC26thNCabout 4 years ago
Cheating wife

Cheating wife wakes up and goes home. Hope she stays .

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
She Got The Fever And Let Pierre Eat Her Beaver

So, that's not cheating? Is that the take-home here? Thank you, Professor Clinton!

Not sure what you guys are smoking, but next time ol' Pierre will be drivin' it home faster than a Parisian minute.

Too bad for Hubby he's got a rather flighty, stupid wife. Sure hope she can keep a lid on it, at least until the kiddies graduate.

AnonymousAnonymousover 11 years ago
Not cheat?

So if David got a hand job at work every day that would be ok because thats not cheating. Glad she left before fucking him, this time, but it does seem that she is only using the husband. He is going all out to show and demonstrate his love. What is she doing? I can't see much except the massage class. Why is it his job to excite her and not their joint job?

Nightowl22Nightowl22almost 19 years ago
Almost doesn't count!

A very good story of a woman who almost commits adultry but pulls away just barely in the nick of time. And then, when she gets home, needing an emotional release, the loving sex with her husband.

Nightowl21Nightowl21over 19 years ago
A good story

Just a little twist from what you expect---here! Great ending!

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