She tells all in lurid detail

"Of course John, always."

"So... how did it go? What happened?"

Michelle sat in a soft living room chair, spreading her legs slightly. "Are you sure we can't... you know... first? I'm dying over here." She let her hand drift down to her pouting pink pussy as the other grazed the nipples of her full breasts.

"Tell me about it first, then you can drink my cum," you said, trying hard not to let your anxiety show.

Michelle sighed. "Well, like I said, I was going nuts all day. At lunch I even went in the bathroom to masturbate. I came twice, but it didn't help."

You nodded. In tests your team had shown that it may even accelerate the symptoms.

"So, about fifteen minutes before class let out, I called the number. I told the operator to have the paramedic meet me in the teacher's parking lot. So I went out there, and there he was, leaning on his ambulance."

"Tyrone?"

Michelle hadn't stopped touching herself, and was now blatantly rubbing up and down on her clit, causing the hood to rise and fall over it. She was breathing heavy too.

"Yes. He was nice. He asked if I knew how I wanted it."

"What did you say?" You were putting away wine quickly.

"Well I followed what the pamphlet said to do. In the back of the ambulance there was a pad to kneel on, so I knelt down. I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, and cupped my hands under my chin."

You could picture it well- your beautiful wife with her hair up in her glasses and smart school clothes with her mouth wide like some kind of slut... no! Like a strong person dealing with an illness.

"The brochures also said to keep eye contact with him. Did you?"

She nodded, stroking herself faster now, her hips moving. "Yes."

"Alright, then what?"

"Well, he got out his c... his penis and started stroking it."

You suppressed a shudder. "Was he already hard?"

"Yes honey, he was really, really hard." She was masturbating furiously and you didn't want to stop her or you would seem jealous again.

"How... how close was he?"

"Oh, he was about, six inches from my face. He just stroked his big black cock and I just waited with my mouth open. Nothing more happened than that."

You frowned and finished your wine. Hearing this story while your wife masturbated in the living room was giving you a hard on, and you didn't really know how you felt about it.

"What about when he... ejaculated?"

Michelle thrust her fingers inside of her and clutched her breast with her other hand.

"He came a lot. Most of it got inside my..." she moaned breathlessly, "inside my mouth, but some got on my face. He had good aim."

Cringing inwardly, you replied, "What did you do?"

Michelle was fucking herself to orgasm now.

"What did you do?" You repeated.

"I... I... wiped it off with my fingers and licked them, sucked them- like the pamphlets said to do."

"The pamphlets also said to suck the last bit out of head of his penis, did you do that too?"

"No," she moaned, close to cumming. "He squeezed it out and then wiped it onto his thumb, and I... I sucked it off his thumb."

You wanted to believe her, and you did. Sipping a new glass of wine, watching her get herself off in the living room, you did trust her completely.