A FBOW excerpt in sequence: A Very Memorable Day
10:23 AM
The drapes still pulled. The room in subdued shades of daylight, the flushing of the toilet woke him.
Having slept nude, stretching, he sensuously ran his hands over his chest and stomach, then rubbed the hard shaft of his urine swelled erection between the palms of his hands causing a deliciously warm friction.
Knowing Marsha would not be out for at least another five minutes. Throwing the summer quilt off, going to the kitchen and, not wanting to splash water on the floor he stuffed his outstanding penis between his thighs so he might get right up against the sink where he washed his face with dish soap.
Her husband rarely sleeping later then she. Hearing Mitchell move about and the sound of running water in the kitchen. “Mitchie, hi!” she called through the closed door. “Did I wake you?”
When they’d gone to bed the night before, Mitchell wasn’t sure if Marsha was ‘really’ angry at him for not telling her about Ruby and Sherry before they’d arrived.
He had learned that if not sure of his wife’s anger it was best to leave her alone and ‘not’ knowing if she was angry, ‘if’ she was would she still be angry this morning.
True, she had refused his sexual advances last night, but he always made sexual advances and she often refused… Even if she was not angry at him.
Recognising the tone of her voice as friendly. “Nah, I was about to get up anyway.”
Wanting to rinse the odor of sleep from his mouth, mixing a half teaspoon of baking soda in half a glass of water he gargled. Then got back into bed, on top of the blanket.
Knowing her husband. Hearing him gargle in the kitchen, she knew full well what he had in mind…
But on this morning, Marsha, too, had an urge to do ‘it’.
The door to the bathroom opening. “Good morning.”
Depending on how badly she wanted to tease him, usually wearing at least her pajama top or bottom, on this morning...
Looking at his wife’s fully nude body— surprised that she was— Mitchell could not tell if it was his imagination or just wishful thinking but Marsha’s sloping breasts did appear to be ‘just’ a bit heavier. He looked at her dusky pink areolae that he’d happily spent ‘so’ much time studying, and they did appear to be ‘just’ a little darker and just a little larger.
Mitchell looked at the black triangle of Marsha’s pubic hair and her long, thin legs and though he had seen Marsha fully nude at least a hundred times, what he then saw caused a twitch in his penis as it engorged with even more blood as ‘fully’ enraptured and impassioned by his wife’s youthful, erotic— in his mind changing beauty.
Swallowing, speaking softly. “Hi.”
From across the short distance, looking at him as he looked at her…
Sensing the rise of her excitement, Marsha felt an all encompassing bloom of warmth along with the pleasant drawing sensation in her breasts as her excited nipples hardened and... In fear of bodily fluid seeping out and down her thighs she constricted the muscle within against the flush of moisture that seemed to flood the well of her vagina, as moving to the bed...
Standing above the bed she gazed downward upon the youthfully nude body of her husband.
Lying on his back with his hands crossed behind his head, Mitchell’s engorged penis stood fully upright in the hairy tri-section of his thighs and crotch.
As Marsha looked a thick, crystalline drop of semen worked its way through the urethra and— as she watched ran down the pink glans of his penis leaving a thin, shiny streak and…
Unable to stop herself—even if she’d wanted to—touching the semen with the tip of her finger, Marsha moved the slick moisture in a circle, dampening the entire glans of her husband’s penis, leaving it shiny as…
Closing his eyes to the slight, almost nonexistent touch— that he felt from his anus to his brain…
…Swallowing. Impassioned by her husband’s erotic beauty. Hesitating, Marsha watched her finger as it circled the moderately spear shaped, semen slicked head of his penis then…
Stepping onto the bed. Stranding above him with her outstretched legs to either side of his hips… ‘wanting’ him to look, ‘wanting’ him to see, lifting both breasts from beneath... “Think I’m beginning to show?” she asked as, now, seductively, Marsha brought her hands slowly down her waist and across her—possibly—slightly bulging stomach.
“Think I look knocked up, Mitchie?”
Looking. Seeing. Blinking his eyes, “Umm... Yes, maybe.”
Mitchell saw the undersides of Marsha’s breasts. The, yes, possibly slight rounding within her lean, hard stomach... The swelling of her mound and— showing through the silky, dampened hair, the minutely hanging fleshy double fold of her vaginal lips and…
“ ‘God’!” he said. “You’re ‘so’ beautiful, Marcie!” As,…
Arching his upper body. Encircling Marsha with both arms. His face held tight against her mound. Feeling the damp hair against his lips. Noting ‘not’ the slightest scent there.
She wants me to! Holding her smooth, ‘Oh, God’! So smooth buttocks within the palms of his hands. “I love you!”
‘Wanting’ him to look, pushing on his chest, “Lay back, Mitchie.” ‘Wanting’ him to see! Reaching between her thighs, spreading the labia with the fingers of one hand, giving her husband time enough to see her own moisture slickened, ‘so’ slickened genitalia—which he, did ‘oh, yes’, see as…
Holding the shaft of his penis within the palm of her other hand, lowering herself... Marsha guided him inward… Sensuously, “Oh, God!” impaling herself.
“Oh, God!” Feeling himself swallowed within the tight, smooth, warm wetness. His hands back onto her buttocks, tightening his fingers, forcing her pelvis to settle even lower onto the shaft of his upward straining penis…
Bending at the hips. Leaning forward. Stretching her arms to either side of his head, moving her chest from side to side brushing her swaying, hanging breasts across his mouth…
Touching his tongue to the tip of one, then the other swaying, elongated nipple… Taking his hands from her buttocks, holding a breast in the palm of each hand… Bringing his mouth onto one he drew on the sensitised nipple filling his mouth with as much of the soft, sweet, oh, ‘so’ sweet flesh of the breast of his wife as his mouth could hold, as…
Moving her lower body, rocking forward... Slowly rocking backward…
Having a desire to move against her. To cause sweet opposing friction, Mitchell knew if he did he’d ejaculate within a few strokes and did not want to! Not, at least until she had so instead, forcing self control. Remaining perfectly still letting Marsha make all movement. Letting Marsha go at her own speed— freeing her breast from his mouth, Mitchell’s hands once again went to her buttocks, but not wanting to inhibit her motion in any way, both palms lightly held atop the smooth cool flesh, feeling the softly brushing sensuous movement upon the palms of both hands. Laying his head flat onto the pillow — Seeing facial emotion he had never seen before… Watching. Seeing the show of emotion that now showed upon the face of his wife as…
Squeezed shut, deep furrows formed upon the flesh on either side of Marsha’s eyes. Marsha’s lower lip held between her front teeth, harshly breathing inward through her nostrils with each backward motion, releasing the breath with each forward motion. But for sounds of the inhalation and expulsion of her breath, Marsha made no other sound as…
Not wanting to break Marsha’s concentration and the sexual spell that she and ‘certainly’ he were under, his pelvis straining upward, Mitchell made no further movement as…
The sound of breathing…
The sound of air being hastily drawn into and expelled becoming louder... Becoming more pronounced…
Faster now…
The back and forth rocking motion changed to a tight grinding circular motion…
Now, as though her nostrils could no longer supply the volume of air she and her passion need...
Lips parted, rapidly inhaling, rapidly exhaling through her mouth as…
Seeing the unfamiliar, unrestrained passion on Marsha’s face. Seeing the pendulum sway of her breasts along with the feel, sight and ‘thought’ of his penis deeply within Marsha’s warm and wet vagina...
Even as he forced himself not to move. Closing his eyes tightly, ‘No!’ Clenching his jaw, No! Concentrating, ‘No! Do not come’! Concentrating, ‘No’! Concentrating…
The urgent— barely contained physical demand momentarily passing…
Opening his eyes. Looking at the face of his wife once again as…
“Ummm!”
Straightening her body. Bringing her body fully upward. Pulling her stomach so far inward causing her stomach to become so deeply concave that— pregnant or not, showing or not—from Mitchell’s perspective looking as though her stomach must be pressed against her spine as…
Clenching her eyes tightly…
“Ummm!” Uttered through tightly clenched lips... Laying her head so far back on her shoulders that— Her long hair brushing against the tops of Mitchell’s thighs— The flesh of Marsha’s breasts flattening… The tight projections of both nipples pointing straight upward as now holding her arms straight at her sides, both hands tightened into fists with her knees folded beneath, now moving her body up… down… up… slowly…
“Ummm...”
The barely discernible sound coming from behind Marsha’s compressed lips. Her body rising, lowering, rising, as…
Hearing wet, suctional sounds, his eyes, moving from the sight of his wife’s sharply projected nipples to her widely expanded thighs, looking as...
Watching… as she rose upward the shaft of his penis, shiny and slick with the excess of Marsha’s fluid came into view and when she lowered... when their sopping pubic hair entangled once again, his penis wholly disappeared within the vagina of his wife as…
Her lips parted. Drawing air through clenched teeth… ****
Her tongue now circling dry lips. “Mitchell,” opening her eyes, looking at him, “I love you!”
Closing her eyes again, tightly, her motion slowing, sensing the delicious tugging within her ovaries.
“Ummm!” Moaning loudly, feeling the sharp, sweet release, her back now ramrod straight, sitting perfectly still…
The wife stiffly above. The husband flatly beneath…
All motion stopping.
Mitchell felt them! He actually felt the pulsing…
In this position with the entire length of his penis fully enveloped within the vagina of his wife…
With both the wife and husband absolutely still…
He ‘did’!…
He actually felt Marsha’s softly pulsing orgasm!
The thought of it!
The physical sensation of His wife’s orgasm surrounding not only the length and breadth of the husband’s penis but his ‘entire’ psyche as he felt the ticking spasmodic contractions of his wife’s orgasm, and…
By the look of her face and the language of her body, knowing what he felt….
She, sitting straight up, he, lying flat upon his back, both still…
Still, without moving. Still... Engorged to its maximum with love, with desire—of which at this moment there was not the slightest distinction—the penis of Mitchell Lipensky no longer able to contain or retain his passion, he, too…
Marsha had felt them before. But in the past he—and occasionally she—or both had sensual movement. Now, though, now both were still and feeling the strong contractions of her husband’s ejaculations…
Knowing what she felt triggering once again, or possibly having never stopped…
Sensing the pinnacle of the wife and husband’s physical love…
Sensing…
Actually feeling the other’s orgasm, for the first time, ‘together’!
Warmed…
Mentally and physically warmed by the miracle brought about by the other.
Sated now.
Exhausted by the culmination of their desire but yet ‘fully’ joined within their position…
Mitchell, his eyes closed relaxed and Marsha, her eyes closed slumped forward resting her chest upon his chest, the side of her face against the side of his face…
Their ragged breathing slowing…
Slowing... Becoming normal…
Mitchell, now flaccid, slipping from within Marsha, and...
...The urgency within his extended bladder suddenly acute. “Oh, baby...” he said, “...do I ‘gotta go’!”
Shrugging Marsha off his supine body as, holding the retracted slug of his penis within his hand Mitchell rushed to the bathroom swinging the door to a partially closed position….
Standing before and over the toilet—for what seemed forever—“Marcie, we sure didn’t waste it today!”
Often surprised by the amount her husband was able to hold. Hearing the seemingly never-ending sound of urine splashing into the toilet.
“We sure didn’t waste ‘what’ today?”
“A ‘great’ boner, baby!”
Understanding what he meant and yet feeling the residual effect of her orgasm… Of ‘their’ orgasm.
“Yeah, Mitchie!” Whole-heatedly Agreeing with him. “We ‘sure’ didn’t waste a ‘great’ boner today!”
****
The weather unusually hot these first days of August, outside it was a beautifully crisp summer day — at least here near the ocean.
Before leaving for the city, lowering the convertible top but because they’d be raising it when they parked, Mitchell did not go to the bother of putting the boot on.
Still feeling the after glow of their love making, Marsha sat as closely as possible. Driving in the—even for Sunday morning—light traffic, Mitchell drove with his arm about Marsha’s shoulder.
Finding a parking spot on Ninth Avenue near 44th Street, about a half mile from the theatre, Mitchell raised the top.
Walking along 42nd Street, finding a restaurant just off Times Square, they had breakfast where Mitchell— despite what Ruby had told him, had his usual of fried eggs, hash brown potatoes, pork sausage, toasted bagel with cream cheese and coffee.
With the exception of ham and tea, Marsha had the same.
Finished eating, walking to the Paramount Theatre they found a triple wide box office line snaking halfway around the block.
Checking with the outside usher, Mitchell learned that the lobby was packed and the next show completely sold out.
Disappointed but unwilling to wait in line for three hours, ‘even’ to see Judy Garland, deciding, “As long as we’re here, we might as well see a movie.”
Walking along 42nd Street, looking for a movie they both agreed on, passing the alley that runs adjacent to the theatre: “ ‘Clang, clang, clang went the trolley’!” They heard the strong voice of Judy Garland wafting through the open rear doors of the ‘Paramount’.
Stopping, moving into the alley they stood among a large group of people that also stood listening.
The next FBOW excerpt in sequence: "Wolf Man/Public Health"
