Close Call

by The Editors on March 9, 2012 with 0 Comments in Letter of the Month , Letters

March 2012

In this Issue:

It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. My husband called the office that Friday morning to say our friend Herman was in town and he thought he might ride back with him to the country (a couple hours’ drive) and hang out for the weekend, maybe do some fishing, to cheer him up.

It was almost a year now since Herman’s wife Deedee had moved back to her old hometown. Far from adjusting, he was getting worse, so I told Randall by all means to go for it, saying I might join them Saturday—unless he wanted it to be just a guy weekend. He said we could talk about it that night.

A couple of hours later I had a shaky-sounding Herman on the phone telling me not to worry (is there anything more certain to make you worry?) but they had a minor accident in his truck about halfway to his place and Randall had broken a leg. He had been taken to a hospital about ten miles away, but everything was under control, not to worry. And oh yes, Randall might have to spend a few days in the hospital.

I got directions to the hospital, grabbed the case with essentials I keep in the office “just in case,” and explained the situation to my assistant. An hour later I found Randall heavily medicated but resting comfortably. I arrived in time to catch the doctor, who said the leg should be fine but needed surgery to pin it in place after the swelling went down, in a couple of days.

Herman came in and we tried visiting, but the medication had Randall out of it. He finally managed to tell me there was nothing I could do there—it made more sense for me to drive Herman back to his truck, which incredibly seemed to have suffered just some scratches, then get some rest. I said I loved him and would see him tomorrow. I think he was already asleep.

With Herman still shaky and facing an hour’s drive home, I asked if he’d like to stop for a drink. He said a drink never sounded better. We found a place, and while I nursed a beer he downed double rum-and-Cokes like water. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea! My plan was to drop him at his truck, then come back and find a motel near the hospital, but could I really let Herman get behind the wheel?

It was worse in the car. He just babbled about how the accident was all his fault, or maybe all Deedee’s (1000 miles away!). Finally I pulled off the road. To calm him I put my arms around him. He shook and rambled until he gathered himself enough to tell me he’d spoken to Deedee and she was ready to come home, but first had to tell him something: She’d slept with other guys—and not just while they were separated. He was shocked to learn “what a whore she is.” Now he wanted a divorce.

I decided to drive Herman home, then find a motel and drive him to his truck in the morning. When we got there I asked if he was okay. Still very drunk, but now speaking in sentences, sort of, he said, “She says there’s this guy she’s been sleeping with for three years. How could she, knowing I never touched another woman in my life? I’m just some dumb fucker married to a whore. God, I don’t even know what another woman feels like.”

He was so far gone, I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I moved his hand under my dress, right on my panties, and said, “Here’s what another woman feels like. It’s not such a big deal.”

Even with just the dashboard lights, I saw his look of amazement. “Jeez, Lurleen,” he gasped, “you’re making me hard!”

I reached over and indeed felt a boner throbbing in his pants. What can I say? He’s a really good-looking guy, of the rugged country type—suddenly just my type. Even Deedee, who once told me Herman was “a bore” in bed, said she’d stayed with him because he had the hottest body she’d ever seen.

After a while he withdrew his hand and tried to shuffle over to the car door. Knowing that even if he could get into the house, he couldn’t take care of himself, I said, “Let me at least get you in bed.”

He muttered things like “no, I’m okay” and “mustn’t touch” and “friend’s wife” and “feel guilty enough, my hand between your legs.” Then he collapsed on the seat, muttering “mustn’t touch, mustn’t touch.”

I guess I got mad. I said, “Didn’t you like what you felt?” I really shocked myself by saying, “I sure liked what I felt bulging in your pants.” Then, “May I feel it again?”

The next thing I knew, I was climbing over the center console and straddling him. I unzipped his pants, releasing a magnificent erection—not huge, but beautifully proportioned, and hard and throbbing. I rose, pulled my panty crotch aside and eased myself down until I’d taken it all in my wet cunt.

In the dim light I saw that Herman’s head was tilted back on the seat, eyes and mouth wide open. I pumped up and down until after maybe a minute he grabbed my hips and tried to dislodge me, grunting, “Oh God, Lurleen, I’m gonna come!” I ground my cunt on his cock and gripped his thighs with mine until he started spurting inside me. When he was all done, his arms came up and held me as he recovered from a climax that seemed to sober him up enough to moan, “Oh God, Lurleen, what’ve we done?”

All I wanted then was to kiss him, and I did. Then I did it again, and again. Each time we broke the kiss, he went back to “God, what’ve we done?” But he never tried to stop me from kissing him, and it wasn’t like he wasn’t kissing me back!

I told him we couldn’t stay in the car all night—could he make it to the house? He said something that sounded like “Shmwersht.” I got out and walked around to the passenger door, and found that with assistance he could get out of the car and stand, sort of. Somehow we made it inside. Luckily, out where he lives they still don’t lock their doors.

The next thing I remember is us in his bed together naked, with him having discovered my breasts, which he seemed to love. It occurred to me that if Deedee was the only woman he’d ever touched, my breasts would be a new experience. Sexy as she is, her breasts are a lot smaller than mine. Once he found them, he couldn’t keep his hands and mouth off. Meanwhile his hand found its way between my legs and was soon working up a storm—a storm raging inside me!

Then he was sliding that beautiful cock in me, and fucking me drunkenly but passionately—I couldn’t believe how long he kept it up! Here I was thinking I was the insatiable one, but he kept right on fucking me, and fondling and kissing. After he brought me off he just kept going until finally he blew.

At some point we must have fallen asleep, until sunlight streaming in the window woke me up and I realized I had a hard cock thrusting gently in me from behind! When I pushed my ass back, Herman interpreted it correctly as a signal and gradually sped up his thrusts until it sounded like I was receiving a serious spanking. He slid his hands around me and clutched my tender tits while ramming me as deep as he could until he finally popped his morning load.

We were both starved, so I threw my blouse on and went down to the kitchen to see what I could find in the refrigerator. I soon had the makings of breakfast going. Standing at the stove I felt come dripping down my thighs, but I was too hungry to care. There would be time to shower after we ate!

Herman appeared in the kitchen wearing an old pair of shorts that left most of his hard-muscled body free for ogling and didn’t do much to conceal the bulge inside either. He gave me another long, wet kiss. Even sober (if hung over) he knew his way around a woman’s mouth. (I didn’t recall Deedee mentioning that.) I seized the opportunity to run my hands over that gorgeous rugged body, which I was now getting to inspect in daylight.

There was no talk during breakfast. Afterward, Herman said he had gotten my suitcase out of the car and taken it upstairs. I said I was going to run up and take a quick shower and would call him when I was done. But when I stepped out of the shower he was standing there waiting, naked—and I wasn’t complaining! He was quite a sight. I would have loved to engage in some full-body contact, but he said, “No, let me get cleaned up first, then play.” I saw that his body was pretty grimy, but I couldn’t take my eyes off it as he stepped in the shower. I called after him that I would try to make contact with Randall.

I’d had the presence of mind to enter the hospital number in my cell. To my surprise Randall answered on the second ring, sounding a lot more like himself, though still groggy. He said he was fine but under heavy sedation for the pain. I explained how I’d felt obliged to drive Herman home, then stayed over, and he said he wouldn’t have forgiven me if I’d left Herman on his own. He went on to insist it was pointless for me to make the long drive to the hospital just to watch him sleep. He said for the next couple of days I could probably do a lot more for Herman.

I said that as a matter of fact I was wiped out, and Herman could use rest too. When I mentioned that he kept blaming himself for the accident, Randall said, “That is ridiculous. Let me talk to him.” I said he was in the shower, and I’d have him call when he was done, but Randall said he’d probably be asleep by then, they could talk later. He said I had to assure Herman that it wasn’t his fault. I heard him fading as he said, “Come Monday. They’ll know more about surgery.” I said I loved him very much and would call him before dinner.

Just as I was hanging up Herman came out of the bathroom. A half-hour of passionate fucking, instead of draining us, energized us to drive to the market in the mall (yes, even there in the middle of nowhere!) and stock up for the weekend. Back at the house we both stripped, and that was the last time either of us had a stitch of clothing on until Monday morning.

I gave Herman his first blowjob. (And Deedee had said he was the one who was unimaginative in bed?) I also talked him into trying to eat pussy, which he found tasty and quickly learned to enjoy doing—and to do well. Except for meal breaks, the rest of the weekend was all sex. By Monday he was responding more like the 34- year-old superhunk he was than like an 18-year-old virgin.

When I spoke to Randall Monday morning he said he was still waiting for the doctor to come. I said I’d see him soon, then asked Herman if it was okay if I spent another night with him. He said, “Hell, yes!” I’d decided that whatever Randall’s prognosis was, I’d spend another night with Herman, then go home. After all, the drive to the hospital wasn’t any farther from home, and I had to get back to the office.

During the hourlong drive to Herman’s truck, he was in a much brighter mood. We wondered if the truck would still be there, but it was, and it started right up! When I tried to persuade Herman to come to the hospital to see Randall, he looked shocked. “Face him now?” he said.
“Why not?” I said. “I know he’s eager to see you.”

“You have to ask why I can’t face him?” he said.

I kissed him and said I’d see him after visiting hours, and I’d bring fixings for dinner. Then I drove the short distance to the hospital.
I didn’t know what Randall knew or suspected, and I wasn’t looking forward to questions. Luckily, almost as soon as I arrived, the doctor did too, and announced that he’d scheduled surgery for that afternoon! Based on the latest X-rays, he said it should be a simple procedure, and barring complications, he hoped to release Randall the next morning.

When he left, I saw a glint in my husband’s eyes. I quickly closed the door and pulled the curtain around the bed, then lifted his gown and gobbled down his cock, which was soon at full extension. I did every trick I knew to get him off quickly and in maybe half a minute was rewarded with a mouthful of hot come. Moments later we heard the door open, and then a nurse pulled the curtain back to find me standing beside my husband’s bed holding his hand.

“Time for your injection,” she said, and when she left we had a good laugh.

I told him I had to ask him something. I said, “I have an idea that I think may save Herman and Deedee’s marriage.” He seemed dubious, but all he said was, “Do I want to know the details?” I kissed him and said, “No, I think maybe you don’t.” He said, “Well, you do what you think you have to do.”

At that point hospital people began arriving to prep Randall for surgery. I kissed him and said I was going to go spend some time on my laptop getting caught up with office stuff. I told him not to worry, that everything would be fine.

I spent the next couple of hours in the surgical waiting room on my computer and cell phone. A good hour before I expected him the surgeon appeared, all smiles. “Couldn’t have gone better,” he said. “He’ll be out of it tonight, but you can probably spring him in the morning.”

I stopped to shop for dinner on the way back to Herman’s, and probably went overboard, but it was a special occasion in more than one way. When I got to the house I asked Herman if he wanted to eat now or could he wait? He said, “What did you have in mind?”

Heading for the stairs, I said, “Give me ten minutes, then haul your ass up here.” When he did, I greeted him naked, and grinned as his eyes went straight to the breasts he’d become so enamored of but strayed to the bush he’d also become intimate with. I pressed my body to his, and while we kissed, I felt his cock harden against my stomach.
I knew I had his attention!

I said I really needed his cock and helped him out of his clothes, then sat on the bed and sucked him until he was about to come, then lay back on the bed and his mouth went right to my muff, and he exercised his new pussy-eating skills until he had me set to explode. Then he backed off and left me hanging! And then he did it all again!

I was still trembling when he settled between my thighs and fed his cock slowly in my pussy, then began easing in and out, driving me wild. While I was still trying to think of how to ask him the question I wanted to ask, he whispered the answer I was hoping to hear: “God, Lurleen, your pussy is fantastic. Hot and wet and ever so tight.”

I jumped on this. “So you like my pussy, do you?”

“Shit, it’s the best,” he moaned. “It’s like I remember Deedee’s before she started fucking all those guys.”
The very door I wanted to open! “But when you guys were still together,” I said, “she was already fucking at least that one guy, right?”
He stopped fucking me in mid-stroke. “What’s your point?” he said.

It was kind of sexy having his cock just half-buried in me. “Well,” I said, “was she any less tight then?”

He thought about it and said he didn’t suppose so. “But,” he went on, “that was before she started fucking every guy in sight.”

“Did she say she was fucking every guy in sight?”

“Well, no,” he said. “She mentioned two or three. But I don’t think that included the other guy, the one she was already fucking.”

“So it’s two or three guys?” I said. “Maybe four? This may shock you, sweetheart, but I’ve fucked—let’s just say a lot more than that since I married Randall.”

He looked like a baby seal I’d clubbed. His cock hadn’t softened, though, so I wrapped my arms around his torso and my legs around his hard butt, prodding his cock back in me all the way. Yum! “So tell me,” I said, “are you fucking a whore now?”
Silence. Finally he said, “Does Randall know?”

“Oh, I expect,” I said. “We don’t talk about it. I’m there for him when he wants me. He knows I love him.”
“But does he know about us?” he asked.

“Probably,” I said. “But he told me to do whatever I could to make you feel better, and he knew what that might entail. Hey, speaking of tail, aren’t you supposed to be fucking me? Or are you just coasting on your good looks now?”

That brought a smile. To my delight he started pounding me into the mattress. A minute later he dumped his load and collapsed on me. We didn’t get much sleep before it was time to leave for the hospital in the morning, but we managed to fuck one last time after I got Randall on the phone and he said he was cleared for release!

I persuaded Herman to come to the hospital, following me in his truck. We found the patient dressed and fidgeting in a wheelchair, just itching to escape the hospital. Seeing Herman in good spirits, he said, “About time you showed up, asshole. Looks like Lurleen has taken good care of you.”

When Herman saw us laughing, he joined in, then said to Randall, “Did Lurleen tell you the news? Deedee’s coming back. We’re going to give it another try.”

“That’s great,” Randall said, shooting me a look. I decided I could say “I told you so” another time.

Before we all left the hospital, Herman promised to visit Randall at home during his recuperation. He didn’t, though, because a few days later Deedee returned, and I guess he got busy. He told me on the phone that it was awkward at first but things soon started looking up, and that first night she couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

I actually saw Deedee before I saw Herman again, when she called and suggested a “reunion” lunch. She really seemed content. “I can’t believe the change in Herman,” she said. “Suddenly he’s a tiger in bed.”
“Not so boring, eh?”

She laughed. “I couldn’t believe it when he went down on me. I asked if he’d been fucking someone, and he said, ‘Would it bother you if I had?’ I asked if it was anyone I know, and he said, ‘That would be telling.’ I’ll bet he was just trying to get back at me for telling him that I’ve slept with other guys.”

“You told him that?” I said. “How did he take it?”

“You know,” she replied, “I don’t know. He didn’t say anything! Anyway, I finally got the nerve to go down on him. I always used to worry he would think I was, like, a whore.” I just smiled.

Soon enough Randall was back on his feet, and we were seeing our dear friends Herman and Deedee regularly. I’m pretty sure she’s still having action on the side, and I wonder if he knows. For that matter, maybe he is too, though not with me. We haven’t been intimate again since that unforgettable weekend. However, he often winks at me when he thinks no one is looking!

—L.W., Little Rock, Arkansas

48230

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