It's Gill With a 'G'
Copyright© 2010 by Texrep
It's wonderful feeling, travelling home on the bus after a busy day at work, to know that there is this lovely lady, your wife, who has got home at least an hour before you, who will be cooking a great meal, and who later will be happily naked in the bed you share; from the start Gill had insisted that we went to bed naked; allowing intimacies of a very personal nature. That was the feeling that I had every weeknight. Then at weekends there was time for extra loving. Gill and I had no problem about speaking of our sex life. She was open in telling me what she liked and also in asking me what I would like. And she was willing to try. There was no doubt that she loved oral sex, and I loved doing it for her, it was so intimate, she opening her legs and allowing me access to her most precious parts. We had only been back from our honeymoon for three weeks when she asked me the question.
"Andy, I love it when you kiss me down there, but I feel selfish as I haven't returned the pleasure. Would you mind if I tried? Do you think that will give you the same feelings?" I had no idea. Having read up on cunnilingus, the article referred to fellatio, and a little research explained that. I assumed it would feel good so I invited Gill to try. She was tentative at first, aware that it would hurt if she caught me with her teeth. She simply licked to start with, and then sucked just the tip into her mouth. Almost immediately she raised her head.
"Is that alright? I didn't hurt you did I?"
"No not at all. In fact it feels rather good. Very sensitive though."
"Shall I carry on?"
"Yes I would like that but only if you are comfortable with it." She smiled and nodded.
"Yes. I quite like it. It feels a bit spongy, but silky smooth and warm. It's good in my mouth." She returned to her task. She was attuned to my movements, and soon learned from my movements what worked, and also what gave a little discomfort. Soon she became quite proficient and those wonderful feelings began in my groin.
"Gill I can't stop myself." I tried to lift her arms to pull her away, but she was having none of that, tightening her grip on my legs. I was out of control, and my climax hit me, and I spurted my semen in her mouth. She stayed, taking the repeated spurts in her mouth, until I had finished. She raised her head with a big smile of accomplishment. Some of my semen clung to her lips, and I wondered where the rest had gone. She opened her mouth.
"I swallowed it all, Andy. It was lovely."
"You shouldn't have done that."
"Why? It came from you. We share everything, and I wanted to share your sperm." I pulled her up, and kissed her. I licked her lips to remove the traces around her mouth. She in turn pushed her tongue into my mouth, sharing my emissions.
That was how we were. We talked about everything, and trying out what we thought would be good. There were no inhibitions in our bed. Openness and honesty came hand in hand with trust. She trusted me not to hurt her, and my trust that she was there for me. Our innocent fumbles taught us how to please each other. Gill brought up the subject of anal sex. I had to admit that I was not too keen, but if she wanted to try it then I would go along with it. We did try but decided that whilst interesting it would not bother either of us if we didn't do it again.
For the next six years our marriage was great. It was then that Gill came off the pill, as we had decided together that now was the right time to have a baby. Eagerly we went about the baby-making process. There was an added thrill to making love, the thought that this could be the time that my sperm would meet her egg. Then something happened that shook me. Gill called out just as we were about to climax together.
"Fuck me, Andy. Fuck me!"
I suppose for many married couples that would be a tremendous spur. But it didn't do anything for me. Call us innocent if you will, but we had never used words like that in our love-making. Gill had picked that up from somewhere, or someone else. I put it out of my mind. It had to be something she had heard at the office, I knew enough from the girls in my office how they would talk about all sorts of things and very often sex was an important content of their conversation. Little did I know that it was the distant thunder heralding a storm.
Two days before that Gill had attended her office Christmas party. She had come home around ten thirty, happy, but possibly a little taken by wine. She gave me a great kiss of greeting as she came through the door, and I imagined that I was going to enjoy some uninhibited love making tonight. Not so. No sooner had Gill got into bed than she was out like a light. I smiled lovingly, as I tucked the bed sheets around her, and got in my side. I thought she would probably have a hangover in the morning. The following week, it was my office Christmas party. I am embarrassed to say that I too was non-combatant for Gill, when I got home, and the headache the next morning was one of those that had you declaring "Never again". With the Christmas holiday, visits to parents and relatives, the incident of Gill's swearing had been forgotten.
That lapse of memory came back with a vengeance in the New Year. It was rare that I had to go and visit clients. This particular client's brief was that part of the advert should focus on his office procedures. Normally we would use a set and actors for this, but he insisted that we should if possible use his premises and his staff. I wasn't happy with this but he was the client, so I went along. His offices were in the same building as the Inland Revenue, where Gill worked. I wasn't seeking to see Gill while I was there. I was working and she was working, so contact would have been unprofessional. I made my call, and was pleasantly surprised as Mr. William's office and staff could work quite well. He was happy and accompanied me back to the ground floor. We waited for the lift to take us down. The 'ping' announced the lifts arrival and we turned to the opening doors. There was a man and a woman in the lift, kissing passionately. With an insouciance that had to be admired, the man reached out and pressed the close door button, all the while maintaining his kiss. We were left standing in the foyer bemused.
"That bloody man. At it again, no woman is safe from him." Mr. Williams hissed angrily. "And he just shut the doors on us. I shall go up to the Revenue offices and let them know that Perryman has to be dealt with." I said nothing, as I was in shock. Just as the doors closed I had recognised the woman. It was Gill! My lovely adored Gill. And she was kissing another man passionately!
The journey back to my offices passed in a fog, and even there I was useless for the rest of the day. No paper that came to my desk was read, the black symbols became hieroglyphics as far as my mind was concerned, indecipherable, unintelligible. All I could see was those doors opening and Gill and that man kissing. The scene was replayed many times, as if by the replaying the characters could suddenly change, and it would not be my wife there in his arms. It didn't happen, it did happen, no it didn't. But it did! I told the staff I wasn't well, and went home. I must have made quite a spectacle on the bus, as tears ran down my face. Men don't cry do they? Oh yes they do, and this man was certainly crying.
I made myself some tea once I was home, and then sat in the lounge, thinking sadly, in agony. All the things that I had thought certain were no longer. I had a pain inside that would never cease. I got cold and curled up on the settee, hugging myself for warmth. The tea got cold, not even a sip had been taken. The afternoon light faded as my hopes and dreams faded. Somewhere along the way, I suddenly remembered the time just before Christmas when Gill had called out 'Fuck me Andy, Fuck me'." I knew then that however hurtful the kiss had been there was worse. Gill had allowed him her body. There was no evidence but I knew!
Gill found me, still curled up on the settee when she got home. Her concern was palpable.
"Andy! What's wrong? Are you ill? I'll get the Doctor." She picked up the phone.
"No, don't do that." I called. "There's no need." Gill put the phone down and with worry etched on her face came to me.
"What's the matter, Andy?" I knew no other way to do this, we had always been open with each other.
"When were you going to tell me about Mr. Perryman?" For a moment I saw the guilt on her face, but she quickly covered herself.
"Oh John, we work together, that's all. He's a bit of a friend I suppose."
"He's a bit of a friend is he? Do you usually open your mouth for kisses from men who you describe as a bit of a friend?" Gill shook her head, not saying anything. I continued. "And is the lift the normal place for you to entertain a bit of a friend?" Gill got up and sat in another chair.
"How ... how did you know that?" Uncertain of how much I knew, uncertain of herself and uncertain of me. I put the uncertainty out of her mind.