I’m in a temporary tent, in my bathroom, naked and standing in awkward positions. My husband holds the spray gun out a foot or so from my body and directs the brown liquid onto my skin.
“Leg out,” he says then proceeds to cover my inner thigh with a dark golden shade of paint. It smells like a tropical island but feels like an arctic blast. “Other leg.”
I do the routine dance and patiently await the ritual spray tan to finish, holding my breath and doing swaying moves with my body to keep warm. Even with a heater pointed at me and on full heat, I’m cold.
I turn and swat. He sprays my back, then my butt, then the back of my legs.
“Bend over,” he demands, but this act isn’t sexual at all.
“Whatever you do, don’t spray my pussy,” I say remembering the times my pussy lips actually caught some of the sunless tan in the bottle.
“I gotta get the area under your butt… you know the one with the half moon,” my husband is a pro at this.
For the last year or so, he’s learned how to paint my body a sexy shade of island girl. He likes both my visual outcome and his instant reward.
“Tomorrow you’ll be this Latina girl from Cuba or something,” he teases as he cleans up the machine and wipes the overspray from our tile floors. “I love having all of these different girls to fuck. It’s like your personality and body, but a different girl. Life is good!” His ego is big enough to have it’s own zip code.
My husband is quite spoiled. Having a star for a wife means he never really knows exactly which one of my personalities and costumes will meet him at home in the evenings. After a spray tan, I smell and look like a tropical island for at least 4 days before the initial glow begins to wear off. My svelte body which is generally a pasty shade of ivory looks great with a tan. It makes my blonde hair and blue eyes pop and covers any imperfection on my legs and stomach perfectly. Everyone looks younger with a tan! And if that’s not enough, my husband gets paid for his time and skill with a delicious all-consuming blow job. Yes, dear reader, he loves it when I say, “Babe, I need a spray tan!”
“The tan looks so good,” I say dancing for myself naked in our floor to ceiling mirror. It takes a good 20 minutes for the tan to set before it’s recommended to get dressed. I use this delay as an opportunity to strut around shaking my curves and make my husband watch.
“I’m waiting,” he says laying on his back. He’s in our bed already, naked himself but with the cover laying across his body.
“Of course you are,” I’m still swaying in the mirror and testing various parts of my body for tackiness.
Once I’m dry enough to clothe, I slip on my special spray tan pjs which are black and thin. They cover my skin from my neck down to my ankles which keeps the tanning mist from rubbing off on our comforter and chairs. Socks and gloves complete my post-spray look, and I wear it until I shower 8 hours later.
In bed I go right to work. It’s not just blow job night, it’s suck it until it cums night, so I keep a hair clip on the nightstand and a tall glass of ice water. Show time girls. I lay next to my husband just long enough to kiss him and thank him for his service before reaching down to find his dick hard already and anticipating his treat.
I spit on him, squeeze my closed hand down the shaft of his massive dick and then cup my mouth on top.
“Mmm,” he responds to my touch and then the show starts.
First it’s a little stroking and a lot of sucking, then it reverses and my hand is going faster than a woodpecker. I keep his dick wet and my lips not far away just in case I need to catch in a hurry.
“I want to swallow your cum,” I wink at him and pout my lips. I tell him how much I love his big dick and how impressive it is in my hands.
I forgot to tell you about the hole in the crotch of my spray tan pjs. Yeah, they are not quite your mother’s pajamas! One time after a tanning session my husband was so horny, he cut a whole in my pants, a hole the size of his dick. Since then it has stretched to disclose virtually my entire pussy if my legs are spread.
“Put your pussy in my mouth,” he demanded at some point. I got on top of him in the 69 position. His dick was deep down my throat and my pussy was staring him the face.
My husband licked my pussy like there was no tomorrow. He played with my clit and fingered my little hole. Each time he pushed deeper in, his dick grew in size, and I choked. I jacked his dick off like a champ awaiting my reward, his victory cum, but it didn’t happen.
“When I met you, Stella, you sucked dick like you were doing me a favor by putting it in your mouth.” My husband went on. “Now you suck it like you want that cum in your mouth. That’s a real whore. I trained you well.”
I love having him in my mouth. That’s true, and after years of on the job training coupled with a few personal lessons in the truck by the river over cheese and wine, my blow jobs have improved. I know exactly how to touch him and where to squeeze and how much pressure he likes and how fast I should go.
But have I told you how spoiled this man is?
“Babe, I get so much pussy. Especially now. But I’ve always had a lot of pussy. I don’t cum like a chump,” he’s petting my sore mouth and cramped hand. “You gotta make that dick cum and you really have to work it.”
I rolled over. “I wanna cum,” I announce and spread my legs.
“Fantastic!” He jumped up and was inside of me in no time. His dick felt full and strong like he could fuck me for hours. I was wet and wanted him to. We rocked in unison while I rubbed my clit before he jumped up again and landed in the bathroom.
It was the coconut oil tray. I could hear the glass clang on the countertop when he opened the lid and scooped a glob in his hand. Back at the bed I was shaking my head.
“No, babe, no, no, NO.” We just did that two nights ago. And you know I don’t give him that treat very often. I refused to put my hand down there to aid his entrance, but I also didn’t close my legs in utter defiance. He got the message loud and clear and pushed slowly.
It hurt. My little school girl pussy wasn’t expecting all that and she took her time warming up. I whined more and he retreated back into my whore pussy. Feeling relaxed again I rubbed my clit and focused on the sensation of our sex, the way my pussy opens and closed around him, the sound of the wetness when he pumped me. I closed my eyes just long enough to feel him pull out, locate my other pussy and plunge in again. This time it didn’t hurt at all. She widened to accept him, and he moaned with ecstasy. The short deep strokes sent me to heaven in a hurry and I left him in the dust again wondering what happened. I screamed and the sound pierced my ears and pinned a permanent smile on his face. “That’s a good girl, cum on that dick,” is all I remember him say.
Back in my whore pussy, his dick pounded me harder and harder and harder and harder. Fuck, I don’t know how he does it. His dick was even bigger, deeper, hornier right before he was silently pulsing. It poured like a fire hose.
His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he laid all of his weight on my chest. He must have used every ounce of energy to release that gigantic load of cum, because I had to push him off me. We didn’t say much at all, just caught our breaths mainly. Seconds later he was asleep, snoring and all.