' Tom Stayed With Us One Summer ' (Pt1) …of a wife story

[Bertram W Bronson]

“Tom Stayed With Us One Summer”

A wife narrative from the erotic library of:

Bertram W. Bronson

(Part 1)

“How vulnerable we humans are, to the everyday fickle turns of fate, to its myriad twists and turns.”

Centuries ago an ancient philosopher may have been the first to utter those words, perhaps in a meditative mood; he may well have scrolled the words on a wrinkled piece of parchment…

Words so true to this very day, but one might ask, can the blushing innocence of a lovely young bride be lost… can her loving husband's emotional world be tossed topsy-turvy by something as simple as a frivolous gust of wind?

Ohhh yes, as we shall soon see…

****** ******

I'd stepped out of the lab just as she was passing… catching just a quick glimpse of her back… the sight of long auburn hair hanging nearly down to her buttocks, her skirt swishing side-to-side as she hustled toward the exit door.

A load of text books under my arm, I stepped into the swirl of scented air she’d left behind and like every chauvinistic male since the dawn of time, I quick-stepped along behind this enticing creature, watching her ass while trying to catch a glimpse of a pretty face. Twenty long-legged strides ahead of me, she shouldered open the heavy glass exit door… and then, it happened…

A swirling gust of March wind blew into the corridor… my eyes were still on the girl’s curvy backside, on the wind catching and tossing her hair, but in the periphery of my vision, something white was fluttering downwards… dislodged from the bulletin board, a yellow push-tack was rolling toward my feet and I glimpsed a raggedly torn piece of paper skittering across the polished tile floor…

In the years that have followed, many times I've wondered?

What if on that fateful day, I'd just brushed the tack aside with my shoe and stepped over that rectangular little piece of white paper… what if I had just gone on about my daily routine?

Was it some preordained crazy twist of fate?

Whatever… I leaned down and picked up the scrap of paper, while in front of me, the heavy glass door was closing with a little swooshing sound and the auburn-haired girl, the little honey-pot with the curvy ass was long-gone. And I never did catch a glimpse of her face,

But to aid a fellow student, I placed my books on the floor and started to tack the notice back onto the bulletin board. It was a simple message; scribbled with an ink marker on the back-half of a torn envelope… the words caught my eye.

“Wanted… Inexpensive Room to Rent”

Impulsively, I stuffed it into my back pocket and the scrap of paper was quickly forgotten. But in retrospect, I've wondered if the invisible fingers of some frivolous devil may have tucked that message into the back pocket of my jeans. Because little did I know, the sexual innocence of my sweet young wife had just become irrevocably tied to that small scrap of paper… and just because a mere gust of wind had sent it fluttering down onto a hallway floor.

****** ******

We were young premed students, married less than a year and trying to survive on the bottom rung of a very rickety financial ladder. Just a half-mile off campus; our first home was humble by any description, just our tiny bedroom, a small spare room and a living-kitchen combo. We’d managed to squeeze in a tattered couch along one kitchen wall. To this day, I still remember placing the worn seat cushions, best-side-up, never knowing what was one day destined to happen on those three lumpy cushions.

As unassuming as a third-world turnip patch, that tiny, old wood-frame house, with its second-hand furniture, was our love castle, its imaginary tall spires seeming to reach up into the Heavens. Barely out of her teens, my darling Pricilla was a sweet shy bride and she turned that modest abode into a sun-lit garden, where each day the roots of our love grew deeper.

Rain or shine, we rode bicycles to-and-from class while knowing better days were ahead, but for a prideful young guy, it always seemed so inappropriate to make love with a fairy-tale princess on an old creaky ‘hand-me-down’ bed. But our new life together was centered within its four wobbly wooden posts. Cuddled in its sagging center, we shared our secrets and dreams for the future; speaking in tender tones of the spacious new home we’d one day have, the babies we’d conceive on big new bed.

“Ronnie,” she’d giggle, “I wanna have a great big new bed, one that doesn't sway an’ go creak-creak all the time.”

Yes, we were in love and the future was bright, but in those early days we made endless love on an old squeaky mattress, Pricilla giggling at the sound of a wooden bed post going bump-bump against the wall until we lay utterly exhausted. Within easy reach on Prissy’s side of the bed, lay that ubiquitous box of tissues, and with a newlywed’s little blush, she’d tuck one between her thighs and fall asleep, but many mornings, the mismatch of worn sheets scrounged from her parent’s home, were marked with the evidence of our love-making.

And when the warm rays of morning sun slanted down onto our bed, the wrinkled bottom sheet, spotted with traces male and female fluids, always brought a flush of embarrassment to the cheeks of my shy young bride.

“Oh dear,” she’d sigh.

Still in her cotton nighty, she'd be making the bed, smoothing out the wrinkled bottom sheet and giggling… “Maybe I should put something under my bare behind when we… ah, do naughty things…”

A couple days later, my fussy little bride came home from a modest shopping trip to Walmart. A few ‘store-brand’ groceries, a plastic bag with cosmetic items… I peeked into another bag and found six little white hand towels. “Prissy, what’s this?” I mumbled.

There was shy smile and a pretty blush on Pricilla’s cheeks… I could see her clever mind working out a teasing response as she stepped around our small kitchen table, coiling her arms around my back, her lips warm against my neck, whispering, and nibbling the side of my neck with her pearly white teeth.

“Naughty Time Towels,” she murmured.

She’d coined a new phrase and whispered it against my ear… I felt her snuggle closer, soft breasts against my chest, her belly pressing against me. “Darling, they’re for slipping under my behind… so we don't leave those wet spots on the bed sheet.”

“You mean… like when fuck each other to a frenzy, an’ you wet the sheet?”

“Ronnie, that’s not a nice thing to say!”

“But you love it don't you… fucking ‘til you're weak and wet between the cheeks of that cute little hind-end?” I teased.

“Mmm hum, maybe I like it… maybe just a little tiny bit,” she giggled.

It was a throaty giggle and I felt her sharp teeth playfully bite my ear and then she slipped out of my arms. I stood there, feeling the start of an erection, watching that delightful little gesture she has of flipping her long hair over one shoulder while walking away… walking toward our bedroom with the plastic bag in her hand.

By bedtime I'd forgotten it, but when we crawled into bed, my wife reached up under her nightie, wiggling out of her panties, pushing them down between the sheets with her toes, “Darling, I really feel like doing it tonight,” she whispered. Never knowing a time when she didn't feel like making love, I leaned over, nuzzling my face into the crook of her neck, touching her breasts through her nightie, kissing her… minutes later, starting to ease the hemline up her thighs.

Then I noticed her slender fingers reaching up under the edge of her pillow, “just a minute,” she whispered, then her hands slipping down under the blankets. With a shy blush, she up-hunched her back and I realized she was pushing the hem of her nightie way up under her back, then her hands, groping under her lifted hips, placing one of the thin white towels between her bare buttocks and the bed sheet. Mischievous blue eyes rolled toward me… the dark eyelashes fluttering so prettily as she began drawing her heels back. I could see the imprint of her knees tenting the thin summer bedding, then her knees spreading, the sheet slipping off… her toes kicking the sheet and blankets away…

I looked down at my precious little bride, so few months had passed since she’d surrendered her virginity, and now she was lying there on her back with her knees apart, her pretty face hotly flushed. The hemline of her nighty was resting just above her bellybutton; the trailing ends of a white towel peeping out from under both sides of her bare ass … it simply took my breath away…

She began shifting her hips; little concentric swivels with her bent knees lifted… her pearly white teeth biting down on her lower lip while making soft throaty noises. “Now darling, fuck me,” she gasped... “fuck me and make me get all wet between my ass-cheeks… real, real wet…”

This was a new and evolving Pricilla… my normally shy Pricilla ‘made love,’ she didn't ‘fuck,’ or even whisper the word.

And married only a few months, she’d never exposed herself to me like this before. Surprised, my eyes were still fixed between her spread knees, my eyes on the curve of her bare belly, on the raised mound between her hip bones with its see-through screen of blondish-brown pubic curls… gradually thinning curls that followed the narrowing of her vulva until the split of her sex seemed to merge with the crease between her buttocks.

“Do it to me… do it to me,” she was looking up at me with dreamy blue eyes and lifting her toes, drawing her spread knees way back toward her breasts. I struggled to pull my eyes away from something I'd only glimpsed before, the sudden exposure of my wife's dainty anal dimple, my eyes moving an inch above the little dimple, staring down at the uniquely female crease of pink and feeling the sudden tightening of my stomach muscles, my penis pulsing and stiffening into a taut, full erection.

Quickly, I was up on my knees and elbows between her legs, my face pressing into the crease of my wife's neck and drawing a long breath through the fragrant warmth of her long blonde hair, the head of my penis centering so perfectly into wispy tickle of pubic hairs, so perfectly against the vertical crease of her vulva.

I let the weight of my hips settle between her thighs, searching with the head of my stiff penis for the hidden opening into her body… feeling that initial touch of warm inner skin, pressing gently, feeling the head of penis sliding lower toward the crease of her buttocks, feeling the sensation of warmth and slippery smoothness and hearing Prissy’s breathy gasp against my ear. “Yes darling… ohhh yes… there… push it in meee.”

Heels pressing against the mattress, my little darling up-slanted her loins and the slick warmth of her vagina closed around the head of my penis… she lifted her heels, her knees bending and drawing back toward her breasts. Then there was that precious moment, that exquisite sensation of feeling each other’s warmth as we came together, that mutual intake of quick breath as my erected penis slid deeply into the very essence of her body…

A first soft whimper escaped her lips, then a deep-throated groan as our pubic hairs meshed, mine dark against Prissy’s blondish-brown nest of curls. “Ohhh darling,” she whispered, “Ohhh I love it… that feeling when your penis slides into me... when I feel it pushing deep inside me” Her hips started to move, arching her pubic bone and pressing the cushiony mound of her vulva up against me, her warm breath panting against my ear, murmuring, “Ohhhh I love the feeling of… of fucking, of having your penis way in me like this…”

The world quickly faded from our existence… there was only our private darkness, the undulation of conjoined bodies and Pricilla’s pink toes, wiggling and clenching above my back, the silky smooth feeling of her inner thighs against my hips, her warm stomach under mine. My young wife's panting breath, and the rhythmic sound intercourse drifting throughout our tiny bedroom.

Nearly an hour may have passed before I lifted a softening and fluid-smeared penis from between Prissy’s bent-back thighs. Weak and breathless, knees akimbo, she lay still sprawled on her back. I sat back on my heels, looking down at her, watching the after effect of her orgasm, her hands falling palm-up at her sides, clenched fingers loosening, just sitting between her feet while the musky aroma of sweaty love-making rose from our wrinkled bed sheets…

“Oh darling, I’m so tired, but ohhhh I love doing it,” she murmured. Lying there in the soft glow of the bed lamp, eyes still closed, she lovingly squeezed my hand while a tiny trail of glistening fluid seeped from the vertical crease of her still slightly splayed vagina, a creamy substance seeping across the dimple of her anus, seeping into the crease of her buttocks. Prissy reached down and pulled a fold of the towel up between her thighs.

Newly married, still infatuated with the sight of Pricilla sprawled naked on our bed, still intrigued by her shy behavior after sex, I remained kneeling near her feet, watching as she pressed the soft absorbent towel against her wetly tangled pubic hairs, her fingers tucking a narrow fold between her buttocks, then lowering her knees, stretching out her legs, squeezing her thighs, a long sigh, and then murmuring to herself, “Ohhh that felt so nice.”

A few moments later, the greenish blue eyes blinked open. With eyes still glazed and dreamy looking, she caught me staring down in fascination at the lovely sight of her bare stomach, at the hemline of her nightie still shucked up above her belly button. In awe that this lovely naked creature was mine, I was just staring at juncture of her thighs, at the top end of her vaginal seam under a triangular tuff of light brown pubic curls and the ‘naughty-time’ towel pinched so adorably between her thighs. Still a little flustered by the wet and sticky aftermath of love-making, her hands quickly reached down, smoothing the nightie down over her thighs.

“Darling,” she murmured, “when we're going to do it, well, it excites me when you spread my knees apart and look there... and see everything, but after, well, it’s kinda embarrassing… after.”

“Prissy, I only look at you with love and fascination in my eyes.”

“And I love you too,” she whispered.

Sleepy-eyed, satisfied and content, Pricilla’s dark eyelashes slowly lowered against her flushed cheeks. My darling rolled onto her side. I reached over, clicked off the bed lamp and tucked the blankets around her shoulders. A moment later I closed my eyes, allowing the warm bed sheets to become a cocoon, a silky envelope of darkness where I held my wife in my arms and lay snuggled up against her backside, my softened penis finding a home between the cheeks of her buttocks.

It was a little sleepy sound, it came out of the darkness and muffled by her pillow…

“Ohhh darling I love it when we fuck,” she murmured… “I love it more and more every day... I love that quivery feeling of just floating away…”

“Prissy,” I whispered… “Do you get a thrill from saying it now… from whispering the fuck word in bed?”

“Mmm hum, I think about it during the day and when we cuddle in bed at night and whisper to each other about… about fucking, well, it gets me kind of excited.”

“It excites me too, when we talk in bed, and Prissy, sometimes I wonder what you're feeling and thinking.”

She turned her face back into the softness of her pillow and I lay spooned around her buttocks, feeling her warmth, the sweet scent of her hair so close to my face.

I pressed my lips against the softness of her hair. “Prissy,” I whispered, “we were so young when we fell in love and married, when you think about things… about the things we do in bed… things like making love and fucking, are you ever just a tiny bit sorry that there was never anyone else? Do you ever wonder what it would have been like to do it with someone else?”

My hand slipped from her hip, my palm and fingers smoothing up-and-down over the curve of her belly… waiting for a response and feeling a fringe of pussy hairs and warm skin under the soft fabric of her nighty.

“Well, not really... but well, maybe sometimes,” she murmured… “I hear other girls talking about men and… well, things they’ve done with other guys.”

“Married girls?”

“Uh-huh, they talk about their husbands… and things they like to do.”

“Things… like what kind of things?”

“…like doing it with other couples.”

“Prissy, would you find that exciting… doing it with some other man?”

“I don't know, I suppose… maybe.”

****** ******

So, day-by-day, our love-making became ever more wondrous, we began whispering intriguing fantasies, and many a night, my shy bride went to sleep with one end of a thin towel clasped between her love-slickened thighs. We lived with that precious secret… occasionally skipping class; jumping on our bikes to hurry home and fuck like rabbits on our squeaky old bed… young people in love, enjoying all those magical moments.

But we were dead-ass broke……..

Still in premed and working only a part-time office job, always left us with a month-to-month cash struggle. April came, practically the beginning of summer in sunny southern California, but the rent was due and we were picking the last pennies from the bottom of the proverbial barrel. Today, it would hardly be pocket change, but during that wondrous first year of our marriage, the over-due rent might as well have been a king’s ransom.

Was what followed, a further intervention of a frivolous devil, or simply happenstance?

Whichever… my lovely Prissy came back from the Laundromat and handed me a wadded soggy piece of paper. I stared at the damp clump… nothing clicked.

“…was in the back pocket of your jeans,” she blurted… “It got washed, but I thought it might be something…”

Suddenly I remembered, weeks ago, the auburn-haired girl… the fortuitous March wind and a torn piece of paper fluttering to the floor… and the scrawled words…

“Wanted… Inexpensive Room to Rent”

The ink had run, blurring out the writer's name, and I couldn’t make out the last digit of the phone number. “Oh shit,” I mumbled at the sudden recollection. “Prissy, it was a note from the bulletin board… I thought maybe we could have rented the spare room?” I explained.

“But Ronnie, the house is so small, there’s only one tiny bathroom with a warped door.”

“So what Priss, you got a better idea how to keep paying the rent?”

“But what if it’s a guy, some guy might have written the note and the bathroom doesn't even have a lock on the door?”

“Well, 50/50 chance it’s a girl.”

Priscilla rolled her eyes, “stupid male logic,” she grumbled under her breath. But she quickly picked the soggy wad of paper out of my hand and sat at the kitchen table. I leaned over her shoulder, watching her delicate fingers carefully spreading the wet fibers on the table top; she studied the blurry last digit, turning the swatch of paper this-way-that-way.

Her head turned, blue eyes glancing back at me over her shoulder. “Darling, it’s a darn good thing you're not majoring in accountancy…”

“The obvious answer,” she sighed, “lies in its mere simplicity. My dopy darling, just hand me that phone… there’s only ten choices!”

Well, I never said she wasn't a sassy little thing!

And the little smart-ass started dialing numbers, those quick fingers tapping the keys… and she hit it on the fourth try.

“Hi there… are you the one looking for a room?”

“Yeah Mum,” said a cultured male voice with a very distinct British accent.

“Well,” Prissy said… “We got this kinda small spare room. Its nothin’ great, but we could fix it up and maybe…”

And so, with those few fateful words, my innocent Priscilla opened the door into a sensual and never to be forgotten summer…

But the dusty spare room was empty. We swept out the cobwebs, we wandered through yard sales and started to scrounge. One classmate working part-time at a rug store came up with carpet remnants and we cut and fitted them together. A friend of a friend scrounged up an old, but clean, bedroom set from his parent’s garage… another classmate began roping the jumble of stuff onto the roof of his car.

And so it came to pass that……

“Tom stayed with us one summer.”

****** ******

To be continued in part 2

B. W. B.

We welcome you to browse the Bronson Library Section…
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[SjorsenSjimmyNL]

Wow a new, longer version of an older story!
I really liked that one and am very curious about the new one!

[tay]

As you already know, I am always ready for your stories, whether it be a new story or another "part" of a story!

[roadrunner]

Great as always! Waiting for more!

[kixxmn]

Hope the wait isn't to long....?
This sounds like the young wife will be needing more than a few handy wipes....

[daystate10]

Fantastic story.

[tay]

BBB