A Fish's Dream (Part Six)

Today I saw off an old friend. To give him and me some alone time, my husband specifically asked me to drive him to the airport alone. I was supposed to drive him, but we both knew the situation and switched places. Watching my friend focused on driving, I was filled with thoughts. Let me tell you about him.

Initially, my husband and he didn't meet because of shared interests; they were just ordinary friends, drinking beer, having barbecue, and chatting. As their friendship deepened, their personalities clicked, and they gradually became close friends. After I introduced him to them, the three of us got along even better. Although I didn't know his wife at the time, the undisguised happiness whenever she was mentioned showed that they were a loving couple like us. And this man, like my husband, was loyal and devoted, cherishing his wife immensely. Most importantly, he also wanted to give his wife the best in the world. Although he was somewhat conservative in his views at the time, my husband and I believed that given time, they would understand our interests and become our best companions.

But things don't always go as planned. A car accident claimed two lives, and he and she were ultimately separated by death. We witnessed firsthand the devastation his broken family inflicted on him. He ignored the advice of relatives and friends, drowning his sorrows in alcohol every day, quitting his job. His so-called recovery was merely a way to numb himself with another job, and the sparkle in his eyes was gone forever... He was a naturally intelligent man, and even this unexpected turn of events didn't diminish his work ability in the slightest. His career gradually improved again. However, his deep love for his deceased wife led him to isolate himself. During his solitary life as a widower, he refused any woman who approached him and rejected most social interactions, only occasionally inviting my husband and me to sit and drink together. At the time, I didn't know the reason behind this; I was simply happy to share some of my old friend's sorrow. Three years passed like this. During this time, out of respect for my old friend, I didn't try to arrange for him to remarry like others did, nor did I intend to accept him as my other partner. Until one day, my husband solemnly told me that after observing him for some time, he felt that my old friend seemed to have feelings for me... He harbored a unique affection for her, yet he couldn't discern the reason. Seeing my husband's earnest expression, I didn't take it as a joke. Often, it is men who understand men best. To be fair, my old friend is a man of excellent character, and our personalities are compatible. My husband also highly regards him. If we could make love together, it would naturally be a wonderful thing. Besides, my old friend has been constantly torturing and oppressing himself over the years. His deep love has long become a burden for him. If his wife knew in the afterlife, she would certainly not want to see her husband like this. That night, my husband and I talked all night long, and finally agreed that we should help my old friend regain his former radiance, let him know that he can still love and embrace the beauty of the world. And I will become the key to unlock his long-sealed heart.

In the days that followed, my husband began to intentionally create opportunities for me and my old friend to be alone. Sometimes I would personally deliver holiday gifts to him, sometimes I would sit alone with him and drink together, and sometimes my husband and I would casually talk to him about some private secrets. My old friend usually remained noncommittal, but he started to talk a little more during our repeated drinks alone together.

This day happened to be the anniversary of his wife's death. Every year at this time, his longing and confusion were at their strongest. As soon as I got off work, I brought two bottles of wine to his house, telling him that his older brother would be there shortly and that we should drink first. So, the two of us sat down at the table, chatting and drinking one glass after another. This day was special, and with each glass, my old friend became more talkative, telling me about his past with his wife. He choked up several times at the most emotional moments. I knew he needed to confide in me and needed an opportunity, so I didn't try to stop him. Before long, he had drunk more than half of the two bottles of wine, and the snacks were almost gone. So, I got up and said I would get some more food, and went to the kitchen. At this moment, he rushed up from behind and hugged me tightly, accompanied by his childlike sobs. Fueled by the alcohol, he kept pouring out his heart to the person he was talking about. From his words, I knew that all these years he had been thinking about her, loving her, and unable to forget her. For years, a kind couple had been comforting and accompanying him, for which he was grateful. At first, it was just gratitude, but as time went on, he found himself increasingly unable to ignore the wife of that couple. Her figure and appearance were strikingly similar to his ex-wife. His gaze gradually became unwilling to leave her, yet his heart was also filled with thoughts of her. He felt guilty, believing he had desecrated her, her, and himself. He also knew that recently she had been coming to see him alone. She was so beautiful, just like his ex-wife. He knew that the couple were upright and open-minded. He asked her what to do, he missed her, he missed her...

Only then did I realize that I had such an inexplicable connection with him. And so, under the influence of alcohol, thoughts, and the overlapping images in his mind and mind, his tightly closed heart finally broke open a little. In his selfless outpouring, I was also filled with mixed emotions. We already knew that you were a deeply affectionate man. The vow you made at your wife's grave was not a lie. But you will eventually have your own life. I never tried to replace your wife, but if I could use this body to alleviate your pain of longing, then I would gladly long for it. The opportunity was right in front of me. With great effort, I turned away from his arms, cupped his face, and resolutely pressed my red lips to his…

When I woke up again, the sky was already beginning to lighten. I sat on the edge of the bed, communicating with my husband on my phone about everything that had just happened. A few hours earlier, we had embraced tightly, kissed each other, and finally rolled onto the bed together. He hadn't gone any further, just held me, expressing his longing for her; our deep love had transformed into a breathtaking embrace. The smell of alcohol on him made me slightly tipsy too. We both eventually fell into a deep sleep. Because I hadn't drunk much, this uncomfortable sleeping position made me wake up after a short while, leading to what just happened.

“Give it to him.”
“Okay.”
…
…
…
“I love you.” “I love you.”

After my husband's persuasion, our simultaneous “I love you” finally put an end to my last reservations. I quickly rinsed off in the bathroom, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around myself, then slowly walked towards the bedroom. *Smack, smack*, the only sound in the quiet room was the soft thud of my wet, bare feet on the floor. Water droplets slid down my still-wet body, carrying away a trace of warmth, making me shiver slightly. Reaching the bedside, looking at the sleeping man, a surge of excitement made me gently rub my legs together. Then, I tucked the towel in, straddled him, and began to peel off his clothes one by one. Finally, I reached out and hooked my hands around the edge of his underwear, took a deep breath, and somewhat roughly pulled off his last garment. In the dim light, my friend's magnificent penis startled me… Despite his immense size, suppressing my excitement, I admired his strong body. I leaned down, inhaling his scent. His still-damp hair brushed against his chest, and the water droplets that had been dripping from his body seemed to have evaporated with my body heat. At that moment, I wasn't in a hurry to let him into my body; instead, I deliberately avoided direct contact between my genitals and his. I just greedily looked at him and smelled him again and again. However, this state couldn't last long. The thick hair on his legs kept teasing the skin on my inner thighs. I tore off the towel and casually threw it on the ground, lowered my head, and swallowed his huge member whole, repeatedly sucking and swallowing... The restlessness in my heart, the masculine scent, and a near-immoral pleasure made me work hard, sometimes enveloping it with my tongue, sometimes gently biting it with my teeth. Although his penis was only slightly erect under the influence of alcohol, it still filled most of my mouth. A hand explored between my legs, a muddy mess... Finally, after leaving wet stains on his sheets, I trembled as I reached my climax. After this shameful orgasm, I released his penis. The night's torment left me exhausted. After a moment's thought, I gently pulled the covers over myself, snuggled naked into his arms, pondered the outcome of our day, and fell into a deep sleep.

*Slap!* A resounding slap jolted me awake. The burning pain on my face instantly sobered me. I stared at him, his face a mixture of regret for his impulsiveness and anger. It was as if his years of devotion to his wife had been utterly destroyed, a complete rejection of him, and I was the one who rejected him. But for me, this was both expected and unexpected. To his surprise, I didn't cry, nor did I angrily argue back. I simply grabbed my clothes, threw them on, and went to the kitchen. It wasn't so much indifference as a display of haughty reserve. A moment later, I returned with two simple breakfasts, placing them in front of him, who was still sulking, and uttered my first words of the day:

"Eat. We'll talk after you're done."
"Why...?" Hearing my gentle command,
"Eat up!"

he paused for a moment, then buried his head in his food and devoured it. In no time, he had finished the breakfast I had made. After clearing away the dishes, I sat down on the sofa, crossed my legs, and watched him with a leisurely air. When he saw my slightly swollen cheek, he realized that he had actually hit a woman earlier, which made him momentarily flustered. Seeing his embarrassed expression, I couldn't help but find it amusing. I could read this man's mind and didn't mind the time he hit me. I gestured for him to sit down and said half-jokingly, "Your older brother was planning to erect a monument to your chastity and virtue, but I'm afraid that won't be possible this time." "Pfft..." Just like a long time ago, I always managed to make these two men smile, and the atmosphere eased. In the bright room, only a soft yet firm female voice and the occasional male voice could be heard.

Desire is neither born nor dies, it has existed since time immemorial. The principles of nature and human desire are inherently complementary. Suppressing oneself and failing to face one's own desires will inevitably lead to extremes and self-destruction. Would the deceased want their loved ones to spend their lives in repression and distortion? Seemingly remaining chaste for the sake of one's beloved may only move oneself in the end, but is this truly what the beloved would have wanted?

These are simple truths, and I can't articulate any grand rules, but with my sincerity, my husband's sincerity, and our honesty, coupled with my own nagging like an old woman, it ultimately had the desired effect. My old friend let go of his inhibitions and we began to discuss things back and forth. But strangely, as we talked, his eyes became increasingly unfocused, and his face grew redder and redder. It was then that I realized the clothes I had casually picked up were the shirt he had worn the night before. Now, his bare body was only covered by an ill-fitting men's shirt, and his crossed legs were revealing glimpses of his sensuality. Perhaps this is the Achilles' heel that no man can escape.

The rest is unnecessary to describe. With his defenses down, he pounced on me, panting. I, in turn, opened my legs wide and offered myself without reservation. His fiery lips covered my entire body. We frantically demanded of each other, from the sofa to the kitchen, to the bathroom, back to the sofa, and back to the bedroom, again and again, pierced from every angle. His fluids filled every cavity I could reach, the sounds of our bodies colliding incessant. That day, that night, we were one in spirit and body, indulging in unrestrained revelry. Husband, we did it.

A rambling fish

PS: I've been brewing this for a long time, and finally wrote it down, but I'm not satisfied. I feel my writing is dry and fails to express the deep affection between the three of us. I don't want my poor writing to cause my husband and our old friend any distress. They are both important to me, and I haven't been able to express their deep feelings. I apologize to them.

PS: To my dearest husband, I love you.

URL 1:https://www.sexlove5.com/htmlBlog/92861.html

URL 2:/Blog.aspx?id=92861&aspx=1

Previous Page : Talk about making love with my wife

Next Page : The Man of My Wife and Her Best Friend ②

增加

comment Open a new window to view comments

Contact Information

A Fish's Dream (Part Six)

comment Open a new window to view comments