An Afternoon at Poolside

At age 35 I work as a graphics designer for a reputable firm here in Cleveland. It's a Friday evening at 6 30, the end of a week that saw me work several hours of overtime. Colleagues had left work an hour ago by the time I had finished my project.

Back in my apartment Robert, my husband of 3 years, was sitting in the sofa listening to something through headphones. A Cornish game hen and veggies sat in pyrex on the stove. I made myself a plate which I brought to the dining table.

"Is it cold?"

I turned toward the sofa. His headphones now lay on the coffee table.

"It's ok," I replied.

"You've come home late every night this week."

"It's been busy."

That meant new customers and new contracts. Much of that extra time I gave my employer was spent creating a design in my head.

He remained on the sofa while I ate.

Robert Mc Call is the 39 year old whom I had met on a nature walk through the woodlands six years ago. We had walked two abreast chatting and getting to know each other on that Saturday morning.

Over the next several days we kept in touch through text messages, many of which were brief. Two weeks passed before our first date, dinner at an Italian restaurant. The rest is history.

Having finished a lukewarm dinner I settled beside the hunky brawny 5' 10" tall gym rat on the sofa. His baseball cap covered his bald head. His blue eyes shifted taking in my concealed manhood.

"What are you listening to?"

"Salt, history of," he replied.

"Interesting title," I remarked.

What could be so important about that white powder in a shaker bottle on our table?

For †he next few seconds I listened to him talking about why salt is so important.

"I'll read it one of these days."

His stare gave way to a touch. His hand rested on my thigh very close to my dick making it hard.

Robert and I have a very active sex life. One would be hard pressed to name a position that we haven't tried. Our medicine cabinet is never without condoms and lube. We joke that our purchases of sexual supplies keep the pharmacy in business.

We are not above holding hands outdoors or sharing a public kiss. We couldn't give less of a shit about public opinion. If anyone wants to bully us for being "faggots" my muscular husband can certainly handle them.

Unlike the love of my life, I am slight of build. At barely 5' 4" tall, I weigh just 135 pounds. Being at his side makes me feel safe.

His hand on my thigh crept closer to my lap until my shaft felt it through the denim.

"I really want to watch you masturbate."

I grinned at the request. It's not like I've never done it in is presence. It's just that I've always been on my back with his cock penetrating me while my hand was busy.

"Awe come on," he urged.

My eyes met his eyes. He nodded.

My clothes landed on the floor between the gray fabric sofa and the coffee table, a 48" oval glass-topped piece. My hand closed around the six-inch shaft.

He stared at my hand as it pumped rapidly.

My dick ejaculated in probably less than 5 minutes. Streaks of cum landed beside my navel and closer to my abdomen.

A satisfied partner put a hand under my chin lifting my face. The soft sound of a kiss on my lips which I gleefully returned shot through the room.

Another Saturday came at last. When I rose at 8 Robert was making breakfast so I stayed behind to make the bed. That task took a couple of minutes. Still in just briefs, I sauntered into the kitchen.

I poured a coffee at the counter. Before bringing it to the table I gave Robert a peck.

We sat down to a silent breakfast of eggs over easy, bacon and toast.

Finished eating after several minutes, I cleared the table and stacked the dishwasher.

"What are we doing today?"

He answered after a second. "I'd suggest a walk by the lake but it looks like rain in the forecast."

"Won't matter if we walk naked," I quipped.

"If you get yourself arrested I'm not putting up bail."

I expected him to tease me.

"I think I'd like to hear that book, the one you played last night."

"The narrator is Scott Brick. He has a great voice."

By 1 o'clock we were on the road to the home of Zach Mullin and Paul Flattery, Robert's longtime friends.

"I knew them before they got married," said my husband.

"Salt, a History" restarted from the introduction. I soon found myself engrossed in it. It would hold my attention for the full 5 mile ride.

Something once seen can never be unseen. That Saturday afternoon such a sight greeted us.

We parked in the driveway at the two-story suburban house on a tree-lined winding road.

Two men were lying naked in a hammock on the lawn just beyond the pool patio.

"You guys made it," said Zach.

"Why no bathing suit?" I asked.

My husband looked at them in stunned silence.

"We've been nudists for two years now. We like it."

"We'll just keep our bathing suits on," I remarked.

A couple of beers lowered our inhibitions. My husband and I shed our bathing suits at the picnic table and dove. Under the water my dick felt Robert's hand closed loosely around it making it hard.

A glimpse at the hammock revealed that Zach and Paul were busy. That sight is what encouraged my partner to stroke my dick under the water.

"They're giving us a show," I quipped.

He tightened his grip on my manhood.

Less than a minute later I found myself on my knees in the grass with Robert's stiff six-inch cock sliding slowly over my tongue. Sucking my partner's cock under the afternoon sky is something I could not even imagine myself doing.

When I finally broke away Robert's cum had slid down my throat. He assisted me to my feet. I pulled him into a French kiss.