We’ve hit that wall, folks. The wall where sex everyday is getting well… labored. Not that we are stale. Not at all.. but that we’re fucking so much it takes even more energy to keep it exciting.
Que last night.
I just returned from an overnight trip with my son, and my husband told me how the night alone was hard on him, literally. We did make love before I left and planned to make love when I got back, so as to not miss a day of intercourse, but the evening in between made him yearn for my warmth even more. That is until he was inside of me again.
We’re first in the tired married side fuck position, but with my back arched, my legs almost closed and his hands on my shoulders. For a few moments, I truly thought he was going to orgasm early, but he didn’t. Secretly I wanted to pleasure him quickly so I could rest. As you know, I’m on the other side of my feminine cycle and feeling less horny that usual. It’s been days since I climaxed, but I’m not complaining.
Then he flips me over and puts my butt in the air. His dick feels heavenly, and I attempt to rub my clit for some added bonus. I’ve been telling him about some of the men I met on my quick trip up north.
Of course, I was with my son and not really trying to do anything other than be fully myself, which means to walk around looking fly and let guys talk to me if they must. And of course they do.
I wasn’t interested in any of them. My husband is all I want, really, and with the amount of sex we have, there isn’t enough extra desire to stretch around our home, much less around the block. But I thought if I played with a sexy story, my husband would find it irresistible and get off.
“I let that one guy fuck me,” I began storytelling.
He responded right away. “Oh you did?”
“Yeah, I let him bend me over and take advantage of me.”
“Did he have a big dick?” He was pumping me harder.
“Yes, and it felt good.” Ok, I knew at this point that I couldn’t sustain this story. It was falling limp, because I wasn’t feeling it. As I pictured one of the guys who talked to me during the trip, I had absolutely no sexual feeling associated with the interaction. None. Trying to pretend like I did was messing with me. For some odd reason my stomach was upset too, and the sensation was getting harder to ignore. So I stopped. “Oh, babe, I can’t tell you a story like this. I’m having a hard time feeling horny right now and this guy didn’t turn me on at all.”
That’s when he said it… the phrase that killed it for me altogether.
“Well, I need you tell me something,” Is how it started with the emphasis on something. “I need you to tell me a sexy story so I can get off.”
Like, what the fuck? When did that become a prerequisite for him? When did my storytelling become the only way to bring my husband to a climax? When did my body, my pussy, my femininity cease being enough?
“No!” I put my butt down. I was starting to feel lightheaded and nauseous. “I can’t pretend like I was horny and attracted to some guy I wasn’t.”
“Well, then tell me a different story.” He insisted.
“No. I don’t feel good right now. I’m trying to be a team player by making love like we said we would, but I’m not feeling it.”
Just then he release my body from his grip and scooted to the side of me. I rolled over to my side of the bed.
A few moments passed. I thought I may throw up. Shit, what’s wrong with me? I thought. Is it the drink I had at dinner? It was something I’d never had before. My head is spinning. Could I be pregnant? Holy crap nuts, surely I’m not. I’ll just lie here and let this feeling subside. It’s like everything hit at once. My stomach wasn’t happy and neither was my husband.
“And this is why I don’t like having to make love everyday,” my husband finally piped up. “I need to cum, I’m not supposed to masturbate, and now I’m feeling angry.”
“Hold up,” I defend myself, “I’m not feeling well.”
I get the impression that he isn’t comprehending my situation. Perhaps it did come out of nowhere. We were making love, and I was telling him a story. Then I told him I couldn’t tell him a story and that I wasn’t in the mood. Then I told him I was feeling ill. But damn, does he hear the words I’m saying?
“Guess not cumming doesn’t bother you like it does me. Good night.” He got up, closed the curtains and turned off the light before getting back in bed.
A minute later he was snoring. I stayed up the next hour trying to throw up. When the nausea subsided, and I fell asleep.
“Morning, babe.” I kissed him after turning off the alarm.
“Morning.” His voice was weak.
“How are you today?” I asked kissing his neck and stroking his gorgeous blond hair. Shouldn’t he be asking me if I’m feeling ok? I didn’t say it but I definitely thought it. God, he’s so spoiled.
“I’m ok.” He’s still pouting.
I reach down and grab his dick. It’s not hard, but it won’t take long to get there. “Want to cum in my mouth this morning?”
He eases up his attitude and gives me the little boy eyes. “I could be talked into that, I suppose.”
I get up, shut our bedroom door and take off my pjs.
“Damn you are so fine, Stella,” He whimpers as I lay next to him in bed. He’s already playing with his dick under the comforter. He stares at my breasts and then my pussy before looking back at my face. “Come sit on my dick.”
“No.” I meant it.
He kept stroking his dick and grabbed my pussy with his other hand. He’s such a manly man. He’d do anything for me, build anything for me, buy anything for me, kill anyone for me, anything I tell you. But dammit to hell if he doesn’t cum when he needs it. He becomes a self-centered brat who can’t fathom anyone else’s needs. Maybe those qualities go hand and hand. Perhaps one fuels the other. Luckily I was feeling better and swallowing his cum seemed like an easy thing to do to ease the standoff.
He pushed my head down to his crotch and shoved his huge dick down my throat. I choked a little. He pulled it out and stroked it up and down on my tongue for a minute. I held still and waited for his liquid languish to release. He didn’t want to see it today and mashed my lips back around his thick dick right before it exploded.
Generally it pulses 3 good times, but today it pulsed 6 strong times. I always feel it on my upper lip. My mouth was filled with his salty cum, more than usual. I had to retract my lips to the head of his dick to suck all of his cum down my throat without letting any of it escape. Damn he cam a lot.
Once it was down, I licked his dick clean before sneaking back up to his face and giving him a sloppy cum kiss. He didn’t flinch. He looked so different.
“Is that better, honey?” I tease.
“Yes, my queen.” He was relaxed again and pulled the comforter to his chin. “I needed that. Thank you. Are you feeling better now too?”
Was he asking about my health or my pride? “Yes, yes I am. I’m feeling much better. Thanks for asking.”