Frustration Nation

by

Donna M.

 

I tried to fall asleep, but the constant thump, thump, thumping of the headboard in the guest bedroom and Millie�s moaning were too much to ignore.  My husband could sleep through an earthquake but my chances of sleep then were pretty slim.   I remembered reading an erotic story once about a house�s thin walls, and a woman feeling sexually left out and being turned on by the sounds in the next room.  I was angry more than horny, listening to my friend Millie and her latest beau going at it.

 

Okay, maybe I was horny too.  As I heard Millie cum loudly, I nudged my husband awake.

 

�Wha�what�s the matter?� He sputtered.

 

I had my hand inside his pajama pants and was stroking his cock.  No luck in arousing that part of him, at least so far.

 

�You hear �what�s the matter�, don�t you?�

 

�Oh� �  was all he said as Millie screamed again and we heard her boyfriend grunt loudly in splendid orgasmic harmony.

 

�Yeah, �Oh� is about right. When�s the last time you made me scream like that?�

 

I put him on the spot, and he muttered that I screamed like that all the time, though I knew he knew the fallacy of that statement.  �You want it now?� he asked, though his equipment certainly wasn�t �up� to that task at the moment.

 

�Why do you have to ask?  By now I would imagine you could sense when I needed it.  Doesn�t that come with being married for as long as we have?�

 

�C�mon, of course I do.  How about using those talented lips of yours to get the big guy ready?�

 

I had a brief mental flash of the male escort Derek servicing me, right here in this bed.  I did pay him for those services, but it was MY pleasure he produced and I didn�t have to work on his �big guy� to get anything started.  I went to work on my husband�s dick with my mouth as he grabbed for one of my tits.  His bullshit �talented lips� comment didn�t excite me, but my sucking did get him stiff after all.  He mounted me missionary and pumped away. 

 

Two or three minutes later he grunted, �I�m cumming.�  I made a cooing sound, faking an otherwise non-existent climax.

 

Just as he fell to my side, spent, we heard more thumping and Millie�s wails of orgasmic bliss coming from the guest bedroom.  At that moment it was difficult to not hate my best friend, envious of her multiple orgasms.  I have nights like hers every once in a blue moon, just not tonight.  Hubby fell asleep in seconds but it took me a long time to join him.

 

In the morning, Millie joined me for coffee at the kitchen table.  She was sporting the glow that confirmed, as her cries last night had, that she�d been fucked good.  Millie and her new boyfriend Barry were staying with us for a few nights before they went up to Bangor to spend Christmas with her folks.  Millie was making up for lost time, I figured.  Since her messy divorce she�d worked hard at losing the extra pounds that always seemed to be with her, and along with the new self-esteem (and freedom) she seemed to be so sexually hungry she�d fuck about any man that she took the slightest fancy to.  Barry was her latest.  I understood the attraction; he was ten years younger than we were, with six feet of lean muscle and easy charm.

 

�So, how did you sleep last night?� I asked before taking a sip of my coffee.

 

She studied my face, then said, �You heard us, didn�t you?  That�s why you�re asking, you devil.�

 

�Yeah, that�s why,� I said, smiling.  �He�s good, huh?�

 

�Very fucking good,� she answered, smiling too.

 

�Better than that guy Ryan a couple of summers ago?�

 

She hesitated for a moment.  �Oh, that Ryan.  He was a kid, for God�s sake�energetic fucker but totally not in the same league as Barry.�

 

I remained quiet, waiting for more juice on her new man.  We drank our coffees and talked.  She told me some tidbits, hinting that he came well equipped, if I knew what she meant. 

 

Our men were both sleeping in, and I didn�t mind the opportunity to chit-chat with one of my best friends in the world.  Inevitably the conversation got around to my sex life.  Millie was particularly interested in whether Shannon and I had �got it on� (her words) after that day at the beach house.  You know how sometimes a non-answer is an affirmative anyway?  I didn�t answer, instead changing the topic to my marriage and the kids, who were staying with their grandparents during Christmas vacation.  (It pays to have in-laws who have a cottage at a NH ski resort.)

 

Millie got the message.  �Okay, so Shannon is off-limits.  How is she doing, anyway?�

 

�Oh, Shannon is fine.  She just bought a new car.  A Lexus�looks expensive as hell.�

 

Millie smiled. �I�m sure it is. Only the best for Shan,� she said wistfully, her envy obvious.  I left it alone.  Even in these tough times Shannon�s hubby was a money machine and it was easy to be envious of her.

 

We cleaned up and went about our business; Millie returning to Barry, and I to doing some laundry.  In a while, as I walked by the downstairs bathroom I was surprised as Barry came out wearing only a towel.  Afterwards, I wondered if it had been done on purpose, as for a second or two the towel slipped aside and I got the full monty.  I had to hand it to Millie.  Her new man was hung, and his ass looked muscled and tight.  My juices got flowing there for a second.

 

�I�m sorry, Donna.  Millie was using the upstairs shower so I figured I�d come down here for a quickie.�

 

A �quickie� indeed!  Was he teasing me with first the peek and then his choice of words?  �Ah, it�s okay.  I won�t bother you,� I answered, detecting the nervous hitch in my own voice.  He sauntered off, letting me have one more glimpse of his great ass.  Yes, I concluded he was teasing me, making me wonder if Millie had fed him some pillow talk about my, ahem, frustrations.

 

That night I heard more thumping, pounding, grunting and screaming but it sure wasn�t coming from my bedroom.  Hubby claimed he was too tired, and I fell asleep wishing for more�much more.  In the morning I broached the subject of her relationship with Barry.

 

�Well, you know, he�s a flirt and a cock-hound and probably can�t be tamed, so I�ll ride him as long as I can stay on and then I�ll look for another horse.  Why do you ask?�

 

I couldn�t say anything specific about his blatant skin-tease, or make fun of her mixed metaphor, so I kept it vague.  �I don�t know.  Maybe he does strike me as the wandering kind.  Shouldn�t you be looking for someone to settle down with?  Someone, maybe�er�more reliable?�

 

�Been-there-done-that, I guess, and where did it get me?� Millie said.  �No, I�m gonna keep after the hung fuckables and save �reliable� for later.�

 

Before they left for Maine, Barry gave me one more �show� so there was no doubt he was practicing his crude seduction.  Damn it, parts of me did want to take him on�parts like my pussy and clit�but I�m too cautious, scared really, to cheat on my husband, especially so blatantly.  I took some solace in knowing he found me attractive enough to make a play in the first place.

 

Yep, I�m simply another member of Frustration Nation, I thought; sex on the brain and dying for a big O.

 

I called Derek�s service.

 

His �manager� took my call and was very cordial when I introduced myself.  I guessed that meant I was a good customer.  I made the in-call appointment and made sure he had my cell number so I would be notified of the hotel at the arranged time.  I wanted to see Derek the following afternoon when my husband would be occupied.  Let�s face it, I wanted my PUSSY occupied so badly I didn�t know if I could hold my sanity until the next day.

 

Though the anticipation was near killing me, my husband didn�t seem to notice.  Did he notice anything anymore?

 

That night I thought if I could get hubby to fuck me I could fantasize and really get off, but he was �too tired� again.  Old news.  It meant my �date� with Derek would be even more memorable, though I wasn�t sure I�d still be sane by that time.

 

I didn�t dress up special or anything.  I didn�t even bother with a bra.  When I got the phone call I was already wet and my unfettered nipples tingled.  Derek was superb at foreplay but I wouldn�t need any today.  The hotel was just down the highway.  I knew where it was, and knew it had some nice rooms. 

 

When I pulled into the parking lot, I called Derek�s service, and his man told me the room number.  �302, and have fun,� he said cheerily.

 

I took the elevator to the third floor and knocked on 302�s door.  Derek opened the door wearing sweats as if he�d been exercising, though any residual moisture was from his shower, not sweat.

 

He smiled, and I said, �Don�t stand there, kiss me you fool.�

 

He pulled me into the room and did just that.  I melted into his strong arms as his tongue played games between my parted lips.  Exactly what the doctor ordered, I thought�and money well spent.

 

�How�ve you been, my sweet, neglected woman?� He said once we were done kissing.

 

I put the money envelope on top of the television and removed my coat as I said, �I�ve been fine, I guess, and still neglected.  No, wait, not like that, I mean��  I went on to explain Millie�s visit, the envy of hearing her orgasmic sounds as well as her boyfriend Barry�s crude advance.  �Frustrated, not neglected,� I said.  �You�ll take care of that.�

 

I pulled off my shirt and went to him again.  This kiss was longer, warmer, yet no less intense.  After the incessant kiss, which both soothed and fueled me, Derek pushed me away to his full arms length, and said, �Donna, what�s this, your fourth time seeing me?  You can�t get attached to me�this�you know, don�t you.�

 

I grew a little angry.  �What?  Where did this come from?  I bet if our genders were reversed there�d be no problem having this be a steady thing.� I looked into his eyes and it dawned on me.  �I�ll be damned!  You�you�feel something for me, don�t you?  �More than just business?�

 

�C�mon Donna, it�s not that,� he said, then sighed. Changing the subject, or perhaps simply getting back to business, he said, �Why don�t we get comfortable?�

 

In seconds our clothes were all off and we made a near perfect 69 lying there on the big hotel bed.  His tongue did marvelous things for me, as he always knew how to do.  This was his profession after all.  His magnificent member was semi-hard, and I couldn�t resist taking its big head between my lips.  As I began sucking him I felt him grow to the point I was straining to keep his girth in my mouth.  I never considered myself to be anywhere close to being good at fellatio, yet Derek kept moaning as if I was a deepthroat queen.  What a darling he was, making me feel special like that.  He really was good at his job.  He sucked on my clit with just the right amount of pressure and before I knew it I was cumming.  As I loudly moaned my exquisite release, he kissed my bare pubic mound and held me close, absorbing my convulsions with his tender lips.

 

�Oh, I needed that!� I exclaimed.

 

�Didn�t take long,� he replied.

 

�Guess not,� I said.

 

�And I�m sure there�s more,� he said.

 

His head resting on my midsection, he lazily ran his fingertips over my thighs and hips.  My pussy was just warming up.  It begged for more.  He would give me more; service beyond all others.

 

I rolled onto my stomach and he insinuated his magnificent cock between my ass cheeks.  Down, down, until his head slipped between my wet and willing labia.  My breath caught as he began the slow, steady rhythm, fucking me reverse-missionary.  I relaxed and let the inner tension build.  Just when I thought he was at his final thrusting rhythm, he surprised me by going faster still, slamming me so hard I was bouncing from the bed on each thrust.

 

He groaned, �Donna, is it okay if�?�

 

�YES, goddammit,� I screamed, and then screamed some more as this orgasm surpassed the first by a factor of ten.  I felt him cum inside me, adding his spasms to mine.

 

There is no better time than when both partners cum together.

 

�Whoa, lost control there,� he said, laying next to each other in post-orgasmic torpor.

 

�It�s okay, big boy, you can lose control like that any time.�

 

He looked at me with a solemn expression.  �I don�t often lose control, but then again you�re not like my other clients.�

 

I snuggled closer, and said, �Why?  Who are your clients?�

 

�Most are rich-bitches, you know, years younger than their husbands, who they married for money and not much else.  They pay me and I can give them what they really want, except for all the perks of their husbands� bank accounts.�

 

�I guess I don�t fit that category.�

 

�No you don�t.  You�re much more your own woman.  You�ve told me what you want and why, and I respect that�that you know yourself better than most women do.�

 

I was overwhelmed by his words, and maybe a little more understanding of his earlier comment about me getting attached.  He was so good at what he did.  Part of that professionalism was his ability to listen to a woman and to understand her needs, not just sexually.  I�d been dropping hints like lead balloons to my husband for years but he never gets it.  In every other aspect he�s a great husband and life partner, but damn it, he simply was clueless in bed.

 

As I lightly touched him, admiring his fine body with my fingertips, I said, �I wish I could get you to teach my hubby how to do it.�

 

He laughed, �Sorry Donna, that�s not one of my services.�  He paused for a moment and said, �I have done couples, where the husband watches me screw his wife.  Some men get off on that, but that isn�t your situation.�

 

My turn to laugh, �Not by a long shot,� I answered.

 

�Do you think he cheats on you, or maybe sees escorts?�

 

�Probably�well, I don�t know about escorts, but I�ve suspected him of cheating a couple of times.  Why are you asking?�

 

�Look, you can keep paying me as long as you want.  I like you and enjoy our times together, I really do.�  He was smiling.  �But if you want to get him to pay more attention to you in bed, why not try to get him into swinging.�

 

�You�re kidding, right?�

 

�I�m dead serious.  I�ve been booked by women to accompany them to these swinger parties where everyone�s doing it from one corner of the house to another.  You�d be amazed at how the men pay attention to what�s going on around them, not just as a voyeur, but like they�re taking mental notes on performance, especially if their significant other is getting banged in the same room and screaming like a banshee.�

 

I couldn�t believe this conversation.  My God�swinging?  Never mind if my husband would go for it, would I?  �I don�t think so,� I said.  I reached for Derek�s cock and found him stiff.  �You must have liked that swinging party.  Damned if you didn�t get hard remembering and telling me about it.�

 

�Oh, it�s you not the party that did that.�

 

�That�s bullshit; sweet bullshit, but bullshit just the same.�  I chuckled then pushed him onto his back.  Straddling him, I said, �Let�s see what this �independent woman who knows what she wants� can do.�

 

I eased him into me and sunk downward, enveloping all of him in my wet and ready vagina.  I leaned back, closed my eyes and rode him.  I went slowly at first, more back and forth instead of up and down, but soon found myself rocking uncontrollably on his magnificent cock.  I dared not look at his facial expression as I fucked him.  My eyes remained closed, my head thrown back as I went faster, the big one building like a tsunami.  Higher, higher I rose until�

 

�Oh God, it�s cumming, it�s cumming, �I�m cumming, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrhhhhhh,� I screamed, and only afterwards wondered how many hotel chambermaids heard me.

 

Sweet Derek!  When I finally opened my eyes and looked at him, he was grinning.  The sly devil hadn�t cum yet.  �You�re time�s almost up, lady. You done, or is there one more of those buried in that fine body of yours?�  While he said that he held my sensitive breasts in his hands and squeezed.

 

�Oh yes,� was all I could say in response.  I hardly recognized my own voice when I said it.

 

He tipped me onto my back and went at my pussy with his tongue.  He was so fucking good!  He lightly rubbed the shaved-bare skin of my pubic mound as he expertly worked my little pearl.  I knew I�d cum again simply by his work on my clit.  When the first small convulsion hit me, he bounced up and sent his big, guided missile of a cock right in the trajectory of my pulsating pussy.  When he slid all the way into me I groaned and felt a bigger contraction that clenched my vagina walls down on his cock like a vise.  Holding himself over me, he looked at me with those soulful eyes of his and locked onto mine.  Our eyes remained locked together as firmly as our bodies were.  He dipped into my wet fountain with several short strokes followed by one or two long, buried thrusts�deep into me.  That was his rhythm; many short, clit-teasing parries before the full, deep stab.  On and on.  The man truly was a fucking machine.

 

I whimpered, wailed and screamed but he kept going, still gazing into my eyes.  Eventually the waves of orgasm became so intense I shut my eyes, breaking that spell even though the spell being cast further down in my body was as strong as ever.

 

Through clenched teeth and my head plunged backward into the bed by the force of my exquisitely continuing orgasm, I muttered, �You�can�cum�now�, in�me, oooohhhhhh.�

 

He groaned and released deep within my quaking vagina.

 

After he collapsed next to me, I said, �I think I got a lot more than my hour�s worth.  Thanks.�  I felt his ejaculate seeping from my pussy and down the crack of my ass.

 

�The pleasure�s all mine.�

 

�No, the pleasure was all mine,� I said, and then kissed him on the cheek.

 

We got out of bed and I took a quick shower before dressing.  As he always did, Derek reminded me that I could call his service any time; all thoughts of �attachment� apparently forgotten.  We would see.

 

Later that night in bed, my husband made a comment about how I looked.  Something about a �glow� he said.  Still captured within the aura incubated by that afternoon�s tryst with Derek, I�d worn one of my sexy nightgowns to bed, so hubby was probably correct in seeing a glow.  He interpreted (my sweet spouse!) the glow as need rather than satiation.

 

�You look like you need a little loving,� he said.  Bless him.

 

Like many times before, he was too quick on the trigger.  I was getting there�I really was�but fell just a little short.  Maybe because of the afternoon lovemaking, I was too tired to put on the requisite show.

 

�What�s the matter, hon?  I thought when you put on that nightgown it meant you were horny tonight.  Was it me?�

 

�No dear, not you, more my fault, I guess.�  I paused before adding, �Maybe we�re getting a little too predictable, too stale in the sex department.�

 

With a somewhat scornful look, he said, �Not that again!  Okay, okay, maybe I�m not the best lover in the world.  If I don�t satisfy you any more does it mean you want someone else?  Is that it?�

 

I put a hand on each side of his face and pulled him closer.  �No, I don�t want to trade you in for a new model,� I said.  �And I don�t have a boyfriend�I know what you�re thinking�wait, let me ask you a question and don�t get mad at me for asking, okay?�  He knew what was coming.  �I know we were all over this back when you had the affair with that girl in the office.  I know she was young and pretty and seductive and all that, but was it a need for variety?� He was ready to get defensive but I cut him off.  �That�s usually what men say: �looking for something new,� that�s it isn�t it, the excitement of a new, different lover?�

 

He lost the defensive look and shrugged.  �Yeah, maybe that�s part of it.  Now it�s your turn, right?� He asked.

 

Well, maybe he was right, but that wasn�t entirely the plan.  I thought of Derek and Jeff and got a twinge between my thighs.  No, gigolos weren�t the next move�Derek�s swinging suggestion was.

 

�What if I said it was perfectly okay for you to screw around with someone else?� His expression became dumbfounded.  I continued, time to get right to it, �Have you ever thought of swinging?  You and me meeting other couples and seeing where things go.�

 

�You mean like wife-swapping, stuff like that?�

 

I chuckled, �No, I mean husband-swapping.�  Smiling, I added, �Yes, that�s the gist of it.  We get to work out our fantasies without cheating on each other, and maybe, who knows, we can get out of our rut and have great sex again.�

 

He confessed that the thought had crossed his mind and he�d gone as far as researching swinger sites on the web and swinger house parties in the area.  He told me he knew of a party place in our neck of the woods in northern Mass and a couple he knew of in southern NH that were pretty close to us.  His biggest fear was jealousy, of course.  I spent several minutes assuring him that leaving him for someone else was far from my motivation.

 

I told him, �I love you.  It�s about sex, not love.�  He was seriously considering it; I could see the wheels turning.  �Just think, we�re at a party and you see a nice babe and you go for her, like back in college. You don�t even have to think about me being with another man�unless you wanted to watch.�  I gave him a lascivious look, saying, �I know some men get really turned on to see their woman getting it from another guy.�

 

You know, we didn�t talk much more about swinging after that last comment of mine.  He was rock hard and I decided to give him a treat.  I went down on him and did my best.  I didn�t have to wait long (as usual) to be �rewarded� as he coated my throat with more jism than he normally shot.  I was hoping the volume was a result of our discussion.

 

The next day we began visiting swinger web sites and looking for more info on house parties.

 

My husband noticed one couple living about 20 miles from us on one of the websites.  �How does he look?�  He asked.  �She�s got a great body�ahem�like you do.�

 

I let that one go by, �Yeah, if the picture is real, and recent.  He doesn�t have a beer gut either, and his ass looks good�ahem�like yours.�

 

We both laughed at the touché.  We dashed off an e-mail through the site�s mail system, and then began googling for more info on swinger parties.  Maybe this would be my passport out of Frustration Nation.

 

We�ll see what transpires.

Donna

©2009

 

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