Dipping our toes back into "Jeni & Mike" fantasies! If you enjoy the story, drop us a comment or DM!!
The Best Kind of Ordinary
It was a Wednesday. Nothing special. No hotel booked, no messages exchanged with Marcus, no elaborate planning. Just a regular midweek evening in their Scottish Borders home.
But that was the beauty of it, really. After everything they'd done—Edinburgh, the Serenity recreation, all the fantasies made real—they'd discovered that some of the best moments happened spontaneously. On ordinary weeknights. With wine and each other and the toys that lived in their bedside drawer.
Mike had opened the first bottle of red around seven, pouring two generous glasses while Jeni finished tidying up from dinner. They'd settled at the kitchen table—the same table where they'd discussed Marcus that first time, where they'd created their Fabswingers profile, where so many of their conversations had unfolded.
The wine went down easily. Smooth, warming, loosening the edges of the day. They talked about nothing important—work frustrations, a funny thing someone had said, plans for the weekend. But underneath the ordinary conversation, there was that familiar hum. That unspoken awareness.
By the time Mike opened the second bottle, Jeni's cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. She'd kicked off her slippers under the table, and her bare foot had found its way to Mike's calf, rubbing slowly.
"I'm going to take a shower," Mike said eventually, draining his glass.
Jeni's smile was small, knowing. "Okay."
"You?" Mike asked.
"I'll be in the bedroom," she said softly.
They didn't need to say more than that. Two bottles of wine, a Wednesday night, and the unspoken promise hanging between them. Mike knew what "I'll be in the bedroom" meant. And Jeni knew what his quick shower meant.
The shower was hot and quick. Mike scrubbed efficiently, washing away the day, his mind already moving ahead to what waited for him in the bedroom. His cock had been half-hard since the second glass of wine, since Jeni's foot had started its slow journey up his leg under the table.
He dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and padded down the hallway to their bedroom.
The lights were dimmed. Jeni had turned on the bedside lamp, casting the room in a warm, golden glow. And she was already under the covers, the duvet pulled up to her chest, her hair spread across the pillow.
Mike dropped his towel and climbed into bed beside her, naked, still damp from the shower. The sheets were cool against his skin.
"Hi," Jeni said, her voice low and slightly wine-fuzzy.
"Hi," Mike replied.
And then Jeni moved.
She slid down under the covers, her hand finding his cock immediately. It was already hardening in her palm, responding to her touch, and she wasted no time. Her mouth closed around him, warm and wet and perfect.
"Fuck," Mike breathed, his head falling back against the pillow.
Jeni was good at this. Twenty-plus years of marriage meant she knew exactly what he liked—the pressure, the rhythm, the way to use her tongue. She worked him with a slow, deliberate intensity, her hand stroking what her mouth couldn't take, and Mike's cock thickened fully in seconds.
Mike lay flat on his back, one hand resting on the top of Jeni's head through the duvet, feeling the movement of her as she sucked him. She was positioned to the side of him, lying on her side, her body angled so she could take him comfortably.
This was good. This was perfect. Just the two of them, no performance, no cameras, no audience. Just his wife's mouth on his cock and the quiet of their bedroom.
But Mike's mind had already moved ahead. The toys were in the bedside drawer, inches away. And he knew Jeni was wearing very little under that duvet.
He reached over, opened the drawer, and pulled out the black dildo.
It was substantial in his hand—thick, dark, realistic. Claude, as they'd come to call it. The one that had started everything. Mike grabbed the bottle of lube from the drawer, squeezed a generous amount onto the dildo, and worked it over the silicone until it glistened.
Jeni's mouth never left his cock. She kept sucking, kept working him, even as she felt Mike shift beside her, felt him reach under the duvet.
Mike's hand found her ass first. She was wearing a g-string—cotton, black, comfortable. Nothing fancy, just what she'd thrown on after her own shower earlier. His fingers hooked into the thin strip of fabric and pulled it to the side.
Her pussy was already wet. Not soaking, but warm and slick enough that when Mike pressed the head of the dildo against her entrance, it slid in easily.
Jeni moaned around Mike's cock, the vibration traveling through him, making him groan.
"That's it," Mike murmured. "Take it."
He pushed the dildo deeper, working it into her with slow, deliberate thrusts. Jeni shifted her hips, angling herself to take it better, and then she began to move—rocking back onto the dildo while her mouth continued to work Mike's cock.
The rhythm was perfect. She'd push back, taking the dildo deeper, then rock forward, taking Mike deeper into her throat. Back and forth, a slow, motion that had Mike's breath coming faster.
This was the best of both worlds. His cock in her mouth, the dildo in her pussy. Her body servicing both. The wine buzz still humming through both of them, making everything feel warm and liquid and easy.
Mike held the dildo steady, letting Jeni control the depth and speed by how she moved her hips. He watched her—or rather, watched the shape of her under the duvet, the rhythmic movement, the way her body worked.
After a few minutes, Mike pulled the black dildo out slowly. Jeni whimpered at the loss, but didn't stop sucking.
Mike reached back into the drawer and pulled out the white dildo.
This one was bigger—a giant, really. Thicker and longer than the black one, modeled after some pornstar Mike couldn't remember the name of. It was almost comically large, but Jeni had taken it before. She could take it now.
Mike lubed it quickly, then positioned it at her entrance. The stretch was immediate—even with the lube, even with how wet she was, the sheer size of it made Jeni gasp around his cock.
"Breathe," Mike said softly. "You can take it."
Jeni did. She relaxed, adjusted her angle, and pushed back. The white dildo slid in—slower than the black one, thicker, more demanding. But it went in.
Mike watched her body accept it, inch by inch, her pussy stretching around the girth. When it was halfway in, he held it there, letting her adjust.
Jeni's mouth had slowed on his cock—she was too focused on the sensation in her pussy to maintain the same rhythm. But she kept him in her mouth, kept sucking, her moans muffled and desperate.
Mike began to fuck her with it. Slow strokes, deep, pulling it almost all the way out then pushing it back in. The wet sounds were obscene even under the duvet.
After a few minutes of the white dildo, Mike switched back to the black one. The contrast was immediate—Jeni's body had been stretched by the white, so when the black one slid in, it felt almost easy. Almost gentle.
He alternated between them. Black, then white. White, then black. Each time he switched, Jeni's body had to adjust—to the difference in size, in shape, in feeling.
And through it all, his cock stayed in her mouth. She never let go. Never stopped sucking, even when the sensations in her pussy had to be overwhelming.
Mike's orgasm was building. The visual—even just the shape of her under the duvet—the feel of her mouth, the knowledge that she was being fucked by the dildos while she serviced him... it was too much.
"Jeni," he warned, his voice tight. "I'm close."
She pulled off his cock with a wet pop, her hand immediately replacing her mouth, stroking him fast.
"Where?" she gasped.
Mike pulled the black dildo out of her—it had been the one inside her at that moment—and let it fall to the side. Then he moved, turning Jeni onto her back, pushing her legs wide open.
The duvet had fallen away now, exposing her fully. The black cotton g-string was still pulled to the side, her pussy swollen and glistening, wet from the lube and her own arousal. Her chest was heaving, her nipples hard, her face flushed from the wine and the pleasure.
Mike knelt between her legs, his hand flying over his cock, and aimed.
"I'm going to cum on your pussy," he said, his voice ragged.
"Yes," Jeni breathed. "Do it."
Mike's orgasm hit hard. Thick ropes of cum shot across her pussy, coating her pink folds, dripping onto her inner thighs, some landing on the thin strip of black cotton still pulled aside. He groaned her name, his body shaking, as he covered her.
The visual was perfect—white cum on pink skin, on black fabric, glistening and obscene.
Mike's cock twitched, the last drops falling onto her, and then he sat back on his heels, breathing hard.
But he wasn't done.
He reached for the black dildo—Claude—and gripped it in his hand. His cum was cooling on Jeni's pussy now, starting to run down between her cheeks, pooling.
Mike positioned the dildo at her entrance, rubbing the head through his cum, coating the silicone.
Then he pushed it inside her.
The slide was slick, easy, obscene. His cum acted as lube, mixing with her arousal, and the black dildo disappeared into her pussy, pushing his release deeper inside her.
Jeni's back arched off the bed, a sharp cry escaping her throat.
"Oh God," she moaned. "Mike—"
"That's right," Mike said, his voice rough. "Feel that? That's me inside you. My cum coating this cock, being fucked into you."
He began to fuck her with it. Hard. Fast. The wet sounds filled the quiet bedroom—slick, filthy, perfect.
Jeni's hands gripped the sheets, her body writhing, her legs falling wider. The black cotton g-string was still pulled to the side, the thin strip of fabric digging into her hip, framing everything.
Mike watched the dildo disappear into her again and again. Watched his cum being pushed deeper. Watched her pussy grip the dark silicone, watched her body respond.
"I can feel it," Jeni gasped. "I can feel your cum inside me with it—"
"Good," Mike said. "You're going to cum on this cock. You're going to cum with my cum inside you."
He fucked her harder, relentless, the dildo pounding into her. His free hand found her clit, rubbing fast circles, and Jeni's moans turned into cries.
"Mike—I'm going to—oh fuck—"
"Do it," Mike commanded. "Cum for me."
Jeni's orgasm hit like lightning. Her body convulsed, her pussy clenching around the dildo, her thighs shaking uncontrollably. She screamed—a raw, desperate sound—and Mike kept fucking her through it, kept his fingers on her clit, drawing it out until she was sobbing with pleasure.
Finally, she pushed his hand away, too sensitive, too overwhelmed.
Mike pulled the dildo out slowly. It emerged slick and glistening, coated with his cum and her arousal mixed together. He set it aside on the towel they kept in the drawer for exactly this purpose.
Jeni lay on the bed, her body limp, her chest heaving, her pussy swollen and dripping. The black g-string was still askew, the fabric wet now. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, her face flushed and beautiful.
Mike lay down beside her, pulling her into his arms. She came willingly, boneless and satisfied, tucking herself against his chest.
Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say.
Jeni's hand found Mike's softening cock, stroking it gently, absently. Not trying to get him hard again—just touching him, connecting, the slow intimacy of twenty years together.
The wine buzz had faded into a warm, drowsy contentment. The bedroom was quiet except for their slowing breaths.
This was what they'd discovered over the past months. Yes, there were the big moments—the hotel rooms, Marcus, the recreations, the performances. Those were incredible. Life-changing.
But there was also this. Wednesday nights. Wine at the kitchen table. His wife's mouth on his cock. The toys from the drawer. His cum on her pussy. Her orgasm. Her hand on him as they drifted toward sleep.
The extraordinary had become part of their ordinary. And somehow, that made it even better.
"Love you," Jeni mumbled against his chest, her voice already thick with approaching sleep.
"Love you too," Mike said, kissing the top of her head.
They fell asleep like that, side by side, her hand still resting on his cock, the black dildo abandoned on the towel beside the bed, the evidence of their Wednesday night slowly drying on Jeni's thighs.
Tomorrow they'd wake up, shower, go to work, live their normal lives.
But tonight—tonight had been theirs. Simple, intimate, perfect.
Just a Wednesday night.
The best kind of ordinary. |
