"Tell me about Alaska," Sharon said that evening as she and Steve relaxed in their living room.
"It's quite a state," he replied, his eyes lighting up enthusiastically. "It's big. You really have a feeling of bigness when you're up there. And openness. You can travel for hundreds of miles between towns, and you can go all day without seeing another person. The scenery is great. But, man, is the weather cold!"
"I'll bet," she said. "Tell me about the little town you stayed in."
"Well, it wasn't a town, really. It was a base camp for all of us who were working on the oil-company project – the survey crews and engineers. The nearest town was seventy miles away."
"Did you go there often?"
"I went a few times."
"What did you do?"
Steve looked closely at his young wife.
She smiled disarmingly. "I want to know all about your life up there, darling. What you did for fun. You know."
"Well, there wasn't much fun," he said carefully. "You must have had some kind of recreation." He shrugged. "There was some gambling. I won a little, lost a little. I probably came out a few bucks ahead."
"Did you drink much?"
This question surprised Steve, because he and Sharon had never drunk together. He had never even taken a drink in her presence. She had given him the very clear impression when they first began going together that she didn't approve of alcohol, and he hadn't wanted to offend her.
"You know I don't drink," he said.
"Oh, come on," she chided gently. "Up there, with all those other men, living under rough conditions, you must've taken a few drinks. I wouldn't blame you."
"You wouldn't?"
"Of course not."
He hesitated for a moment, then said, "Well, I have to admit I did drink a little."
He watched for an adverse reaction but noted none. This pleased him, though he wondered what accounted for his wife's change of attitude on the subject. She used to be dead set against booze.
"They must have had some wild saloons in that town," she commented.
"Well, yes… they did." He continued to watch her closely, wondering what she was leading up to.
"Is that where the prostitutes worked?" she asked.
"What?"
"The prostitutes that you mentioned in one of your letters. Did they work in the saloons?"
"Some did. There were a couple of cat houses too."
She laughed. "Cat houses? Is that what you call them?"
"Mm-mmmm. Hey, what're you so curious about?" he asked with a grin.
"I just want to know what kind of place it was. Did you ever visit the cat houses?"
"So that's it!" he said with amusement. "You're trying to trap me into admitting I had something to do with another woman."
"I'm not tying to trap you at all," she said pleasantly. "But you were away from me for so long. You must've, well, needed someone."
He got up and walked over to the sofa where she was seated with her shoes off and her legs curled up underneath her. Grinning, he sat down at her side.
"I've got pretty good self-control," lie said, "except when you're around. Then I keep getting sexy thoughts." He ran his finger along her bare calf.
"Tell me about your sexy thoughts," she urged. "Well, I look at you and I want to do things."
"Such as… You know."
"Tell me," she urged, snuggling closer.
"You didn't use to dig sexy talk," he replied as he nuzzled her neck.
She felt encouraged to become bolder. She placed her hand in his lap.
"Heyyy…" he said.
"What's the matter?" she murmured, grazing his cheek with her moist lips. "That make you nervous?"
"You didn't use to come on so strong."
"I've been without you for a long time," she said as she began to caress his cock intimately through his pants.
His prick immediately responded.
"Oooh, that's what I like," she purred. "Come on – get hard for baby."
"Sharon!" he said in a slightly shocked but pleased whisper.
"Tell me more about Alaska," she coaxed.
"Well, I told you… it's, uh, cold and…" He was finding it difficult to talk as she caressed his stiff cock.
"Tell me about the warm things," she said as she continued to stroke his tool.
"You want me to talk about the… girls?"
"Yesss. Tell me about them." Her lips grazed his ear, and one of her tits was shoving against his arm. She kept fondling his privates, reaching deeper into the crotch of his trousers to caress his balls as well as his rod.
He continued to be amazed by the change that had taken place in his sweet little wife, and it stimulated him. But he kept his guard partially up.
Most of the guys fooled around, he said, finding it increasingly difficult to speak because of what she was doing.
"Were you with them?"
"Well… sometimes."
"Just what did they do?" she asked as she began to toy with the tab of his zipper.
He wondered if she actually intended to open his pants and take out his bare cock right there. She was acting as if that was what she had in mind. He became increasingly aroused and nervous.
"Well, tell me," she urged, still fiddling with his fly.
"Well, in the bars… they… uh… I mean, they danced with the girls… and…"
"Took them to bed?" she prompted, lowering his zipper an inch.
His throat began to feel very tight. His cock throbbed harder than ever.
"I… I guess."
"Did any of the girls in the saloons solicit you?"
"Well, sure. I mean, they approached all the men." His voice was turning hoarse.
"What did they say?" she asked, and slid his zipper down another inch or so.
"You really want to know? I mean, you want to know the exact words?"
"Yesss."
"Well, they… uh…" He cleared his throat. "They said, 'Hello, honey – do you want to fuck'?"
He held his breath for fear he had offended her badly. But she showed no adverse response. She just kept gazing warmly at his fly, and she slid his zipper a little lower.
"What did you tell them?" she asked.
"NO of course."
"Oh, come on…" As she snaked her hand into his pants and touched his bare prick the most wonderful thrill went through him, and he jumped. It was one thing just to go to bed and screw, as he and Sharon had done many times before he went away and as they had done just a few hours ago – but it was even more exciting, in a sense, to play at sex like this.
She was like a different girl. He couldn't understand it.
She daringly pulled his prick out of his pants and asked, "Didn't you give in just once? Didn't you ever take one of the bar girls to bed? Or did you go to a cat house?" She began to stroke the foreskin up and down on his bone-hard, thrusting rod.
"Do you want me to say I did?" he asked, dumfounded.
"Yes!"
"Okay," he blurted. "So I did it once."
"What did you do?" she asked, stroking his dick more vigorously.
"I screwed one of the bar girls," he admitted in desperation. "Oh, God, Shari, you're making me hot!"
He lost control of himself and pushed her onto her back on the sofa. As he pulled up her skirt, she gasped, then laughed. She kicked at him playfully when he tried to get a grip on the elastic of her panties.
She managed to wriggle around and prevent him from removing her pants by pulling him down beside her on the narrow sofa. They lay snuggled close together, her hand encircling his cock once more.
"Tell me what the girl did," she demanded hotly. "Tell me all of it, Steve."
"Oh, Shari, you don't want to know that. I wouldn't ever have done it except that I was so damned lonely for you."
"It's all right, baby," she said, nibbling at his face and stroking his hot rod. "I understand. Just tell me. I won't blame you for anything."
Even though she had him in a fever by this time, he continued to wonder what in the world had come over her. She had never been, like this before.
But he had already admitted his infidelity, and he was under such intense stimulation that he wanted to blurt out the rest of the daring tale, particularly since Sharon seemed so anxious to hear it.
"We… we went to the girl's room," he said, "and I paid her…"
"Go on." Sharon squeezed his prick, and it throbbed responsively.
"I, uh, took off my clothes." His voice was becoming very hoarse again.
"Were you like this," she asked huskily, "all stuck up and hard?" She tickled the head of his cock with her fingertips.
"Oooh, baby!" he moaned.
"Well, were you?"
"No. Not yet. Not until the girl did something to me."
Sharon's excitement took an upward surge. "What did she do, Steve?"
"She, uh… oh, you don't want me to tell you that!"
"I do!" she insisted. "Tell me." She began stroking his prick again.
"She, uh… well…" His inhibitions suddenly crumbled like a dam before a flood. "Goddammit, she sucked my cock!"
"She did?" Sharon asked, gazing at him with slack lips, her eyes suddenly misty.
"Yes. Prostitutes do that if you pay them for it."
"I'll bet lots of other girls do it, too," she said. "Lots of wives, even."
"Shari!" He writhed. She was driving him nearly out of his mind.
"Didn't you ever have another girl do that for you, Steve?"
"No, I… Yes! Oh, dammit, Shari, I don't know what to say!"
She stared down at his beautiful, upthrust prick which she was holding around the base. The foreskin was completely retracted from the pink, bulging glans. Clear moisture had seeped out of the hole at its tip and had washed down the side of the tool. The scent of his aroused maleness drifted up to her nostrils.
She asked softly, "Would you like me to suck your cock, darling?"
The turgid dong gave a spastic jerk, and for a moment he feared that it would go off.
"Oh, God, no!" he exclaimed in answer to her question.
"You wouldn't? Really?"
"You're too nice a girl."
The sweet, silly fool! she thought.
But she didn't give up. "I'd be willing to try it," she said. "Just how did the bar girt do it, darling? Did she just… lean down like this… and open her mouth… and…"
Shocked beyond words, he watched her bowler head to his upthrust cock and part her lovely pink lips. Then he felt the greatest thrill he had ever known as his sweet, "innocent" wife took the throbbing head of his prick into her mouth.
"Aaahhhh!" he moaned, gritting his teeth. He jammed his eyes tightly shut as she began to suck and lick at his pecker.
Don't go off! Oh God, don't go off! he commanded his cock desperately.
"Sharon… Sharon… ooh, please…!" he moaned.
She lifted her head and ran her tongue over her moist, slack lips. "What's the matter, baby? Wasn't it good? Didn't I do it right?"
"Ooh… it was… wonderful! But you mustn't!"
"Why not?" she asked with apparent innocence.
"It's fun."
She bowed her head and once more seized his pulsating cockhead in her mouth. Her tongue circled the sensitive knob and fluttered against its tip. She licked the underside of the glans. And all the time she sucked gently on the throbbing shaft.
This proved too much for Steve. He had been struggling to maintain control, but he suddenly realized he would be unable to do so. It was too late by that time to force Sharon to lift her head or even to shout a warning. All he could do was groan raspingly as his prick gave a jerk and his balls geysered up their hot, thick, sticky juice.
"Nooo… nooo… noooo," he moaned between gasps as his slime spurted into Sharon's mouth.
But she didn't respond with the shock he had expected. In fact, she sucked harder. He listened to the gurgling sounds she made and felt her throat muscles work as she greedily gobbled down his sperm. The thrill which he derived was beyond compare.
He felt a tremor pass through his wife's body, and she bit down on the spongy bulb of his prick just as he was completing his ejaculation. As difficult as it was to believe, she seemed to be having an orgasm herself.
Now she raised her head. Her eyes were glassier than ever, and she bore traces of his cum on her soft, slack lips. She cleaned them with her tongue and smiled in satisfaction.
"That was good," she murmured, and snuggled down next to him, contented as a cream-filled cat.
"I… I didn't mean to do that," he said.
"Shhh." She placed her finger across his lips.
He was still reeling in shock, both from his wife's amazing conduct and from the intense ejaculation which had shaken him to the tips of his toes. In desperately seeking an explanation for her changed attitude concerning sex, he concluded that she must have missed him so intensely and been so hungry for love while he was gone that her cocoon of sexual inhibitions had simply burst from the sheer pressure of her desire.
In one way he was extremely pleased, but he also was disillusioned. He had considered Sharon different from the girls he had known before he was married, and he had taken pride in that. Since she had come to him a virgin, he supposed he had only himself to blame for her change; he had left her alone too long, and then he had spoken too frankly about the girls in that rough Alaskan town.
She wriggled against him and kissed him along the throat and cheek. Her moist lips finally made their way to his mouth and he imagined, as he kissed her, that he could taste the flavor of his sperm.
"Let's go to bed," she said softly. "I want you to tell me more about what you did in Alaska."
"No. I don't want to."
"Ooh, Stevie, come on," she pleaded, once more bowing to his prick.
The organ now was flaccid, but her sucking mouth and stroking tongue quickly restored its hardness. Flushed with voluptuous sensation, Steve couldn't help but conclude that the advantages of having an uninhibited wife far outweighed whatever fancied benefit the other kind had to offer.
With his cock sticking out in front of him like the bowsprit of an old-fashioned sailing ship, Steve carried Sharon into the bedroom, anxious to further broaden her carnal education.
She felt marvelously exhilarated, for it appeared that she had a real husband after all – one who could satisfy her in every way. She didn't expect ever to yearn for Todd again. Their incestuous love, she believed, was a closed chapter of her life, and this conviction was as effective in easing her guilt as a visit to a father confessor would have been.
"Oh, I'm so happy!" she exclaimed to Steve, kissing him as she clung to his neck.
He carded her into the bedroom and placed her in the center of the bed.