Oh Fred ~ Oh No!

Fred was surprised to hear the little tap at the door the next morning. It was early and Myrtle had said she was going to shop. Anyway, he thought, she had a key. Maybe she forgot it, he thought, as he went to the door. He was caught completely off guard when he saw Cynthia standing there.

“Hi Freddy,” she said, sort of whispering, as she gave him a little wave. Before he could say anything, “oh honey, I just heard about your operation,” she said, sort of pushing her way in. She reached up and gently ran her fingers down Fred’s cheek. “You poor thing. Are you all right now, Freddy?”

Fred stepped back, completely shocked to see his brother’s wife. They scarcely knew each other. He couldn’t imagine what she wanted. “Um... yeah... sure... I’m ok, I guess,” he stammered.

“Oh that’s good, hun,” she breathed as she sort of steered Fred backwards farther into the living room. In what appeared to be fancy, high-heeled slippers, Cynthia was easily as tall as Fred, and much more buxom of course, so when she sort of pushed him, he felt he had little choice but to yield and back up.

“Um.... I’m actually supposed to be getting my breakfast,” he mumbled, hoping Cynthia would take the hint and go away. But she didn’t.

“Poor Freddy,” she sort of half whispered and half moaned. “I bet your tummy still hurts.” With that she undid the tie of Fred’s robe with one flip of her hand and gently, yet firmly pushed his robe back over his shoulders till it fell to the floor. Fred just wasn’t quite quick enough to catch it and hang onto it. Then he very nearly tripped over it trying to get away from Cynthia. But she had kicked off her shoes and pulled her dress off over her head, and stood quite naked in front of Fred. He stood, mouth open, frozen in shock and awe.

Cynthia knelt down in front of Fred, her face at about the same level as his incision. A hand on each side of his shorts, she leaned in and placed a few gentle kisses near the incision, moaning, “poor, poor Freddy.” Quite suddenly she pulled his shorts down. “Oh Freddy,” she breathed. “I have to have you,” she moaned, her cheek brushing against him.

Fred couldn’t believe what was happening. It couldn’t be real. But despite his panic, he couldn’t help his arousal. He was surprised, but strangely thrilled when her luscious, eager lips surrounded his budding erection, and her tongue played with it. Then he felt Cynthia’s fingers sort of climbing up his ribs with a feathery touch, then her lips retracing the same path with moist, little kisses, her hot breath playing across his skin as she slowly rose, her one hand holding him firmly so he couldn’t back away.

“You know Freddy, you’re better endowed than Billy. Such a surprise,” she giggled gleefully.

As Fred slowly digested this tidbit of information through his very foggy brain, he was certain he was having a dream. A wet dream, obviously. He wanted to move, but he couldn’t. Cynthia was standing with her ample breasts pressing against his chest, her face close to his as her other hand softly encouraged his now pulsing erection. Then her lips were on his and her tongue was in his mouth, pushing against his. Fred responded despite himself, but he jumped as Cynthia’s tongue found a tender tooth he hadn’t had fixed yet. He groaned and pulled away.

“Oh poor Freddy,” Cynthia sympathized in ardent tones, mistaking the reason for his groan. “You should sit down, baby. C’mon.” With that she sort of danced Fred over to the couch with shuffling steps, his shorts still around his ankles. She pushed him down onto the couch and Fred watched in confused fascination as Cynthia mounted him. He couldn’t help responding as she settled over him and guided his erection into the soft, moist folds between her legs.

“Oh Freddy,” she said again as she moved rhythmically against him, her firm breasts with their huge, hardened nipples undulating almost right in front of his face. He began to breathe heavily, getting into the moment even as he contemplated being smothered by Cynthia’s breasts. Really not a bad way to go, he thought vacantly.

Fred’s hands somehow found Cynthia’s smooth, round bottom as she leaned in and planted moist, hot kisses on his forehead. He was vaguely aware of pain. He was sure his incision would explode and the skin on his buttocks was being rubbed away on the scratchy new material of the couch. He just somehow didn’t care at that moment. He couldn’t help himself... it was too late. He moved in sync with Cynthia, pulling her against him with a fervour almost equal to her own.

“Oh Freddy,” she moaned. “Oh Freddy,” she moaned more loudly, the long fingernails of one hand digging into his shoulder. “Oh God.....”

Strangely, Fred didn’t mind all the pain at all. It was really rather exquisite and he figured, almost cheerfully at this point, that he was going to die anyway. As his breathing became heavier, he pulled her toward him and thrust himself upward against her with newfound strength. Then the whole world fell away and nothing at all mattered anymore. His head fell back onto the back of the couch as he held himself hard against Cynthia for a moment more, then collapsed and just went quite limp.

Cynthia’s deep chuckle seemed a world away as she kissed him lightly on the chin and stood up. She disappeared for a few minutes, while Fred became vaguely aware that he was still alive. Then she strolled back into the living room, picked up her dress and put it on, and slipped into her shoes. Fred just stared.

“Oh Freddy,” she said, waving at him again, “that was great. But I gotta run, ok? I sure hope you feel better soon, honey.” With that, she sort of tiptoed to the door and let herself out.

Fred sat on his couch numb with shock. Had Cynthia really just seduced him? Or was he in a fever-induced delirium or something? It must have been a dream, he thought. Why, he wondered, would she do such a thing? Must be a dream, he thought again. He hoped Myrtle would get there soon and wake him up. Then his eyes widened. Myrtle! If this really had happened, what was he going to tell Myrtle?! He looked down, quite expecting to see his incision burst and his guts spilled out all over everywhere. But, except for the pain, he was apparently fine. He struggled to get up. He wanted to wash. He decided to have his first shower since getting out of the hospital. He wasn’t really supposed to yet, but he really, really wanted one.