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' I woke up abruptly when my wife's elbow found my back as she tossed in her sleep. It took me a few seconds to come to my senses and when I did I was vaguely aware of the slick feeling on the tip of my penis. I reached down my body and found I was still hard and the minimal amount of fluid meant I must have been woken before my dream had reached its conclusion. Memory of my dream fading rapidly, I looked over my shoulder in disgruntled anger at my wife as she slept. Danni was twice Alison's age and had been a stunner when we both were young. Don't get me wrong my money and her care-free lifestyle had gone a long way to keeping her looks and figure. But sleeping with the same woman for twenty years takes its toll on any man. In the gloom I could just make out her long brown hair as it tumbled over her face. As was usual she was sleeping on her front, her arms folded beneath the pillow her head rested on. She slept soundly. My anger was ill-founded, obviously. She had not meant to wake. Still, there was a good three inches of mud and water in the bottom of the pipe itself. I walked the thing with a rocking spread-legged gait to avoid the mess at the center. The grass before me was lush and tall, only recently drooping in swales and windrows as it died off for the winter. I went straight down the hillside, hoping to quickly get out of sight of passers-by and make my tracks look like a buried pipe or cable run that had compressed and settled over the years.I had dressed for the season. I had on a tan pair of insulated canvas work bibs over microfleece sweat pants and a merino wool shirt over a synthetic turtleneck. My outer insulation was a synthetic puffy jacket. I had on a stocking hat and leather gloves. My boots were ankle high and sufficient for the purpose. I had two pair of wool socks in my bag and one pair on my feet. The temperature was near forty but promised to reach the twenties after midnight.Once behind a clump of trees I paused to catch my breath, then.
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