“Hey, hey, baby, you can’t go to sleep before we get it on.” I nudge my sexy husband as he lay in bed last night around 9pm. He had been surfing Facebook awaiting my return from my nightly mother duty, but his tired arms slowly drifted down, the phone was released from his grip, and random videos played for no one.
Waking up slightly, he retains his sleep position and says, “Well, I already fulfilled my pact this morning when I fucked you in the closet.”
“But I haven’t had an orgasm today, sweetheart,” I jump on the bed next him like an excitable child. I’d be wagging my tail if I had one.
“That’s not part of our contract. It’s about me having an orgasm everyday and not masturbating.” He’s so proud of his sexism he actually is kinda sexy.
Sure, he’s right. In the beginning I told you that I needed sex far less than he. I was satisfied cumming 4 times a week. He masturbated daily because every other day was not enough release for this studly man.
But I pretend to forget. “Yes it was part of the deal! I need to cum everyday too.”
“Nope. You’re fine. Good night.” He knows the old Stella so well.. the one he married. This new one might take a little getting used to.
Dang, dang, dang. “We need to renegotiate this deal,” I laugh.
He didn’t respond. He was already snoring.
I’m so proud of him though. He helped make dinner tonight. We had Taco Tuesday, and he browned the meat, shredded the cheese and heated up the beans. I know it’s not much, but it’s more than usual. I’ll take improvements to our partnership anywhere I can get them. Pinching my butt between stirs he grinned, “I should make dinner with you more often.”
He also made me feel very loved when he told me about his conversation with our tango instructor during the day. I listened as I popped the cork on my new bottle of Le Crema Pinot Noir. Le Crema is my favorite.
I had asked him before work this morning if he could do me two favors. “Do you mind picking me up some Pinot when you’re out and about today?” I asked pointing to my empty bottle collection.
“Sure I can do that.” He kissed me.
“Oh, and one more thing. Do you mind calling our tango instructor and asking about the competition in a few weeks? We need his help putting together a routine. And surprisingly, the two of you communicate better than he and I do.”
“It’s because he and I speak men. We understand the fewer words the better,” he teased me. “I’ll call him today.”
“Thank you, babe! Have a great day.”
When he told me later what our instructor said, I realized something monumental had happened. I’m sure I smiled bigger than I should have given the words coming out of his mouth.
“So the instructor said that we’d work on our routine this Thursday. We need to arrive early for class.”
What? He actually remembered to do a mundane task he agreed to do for me? And he didn’t just call the instructor, he also picked up my wine. O.M.G. I’m about to burst out in tears over here. I feel so joyful.
“We’ll get there an hour early,” I replied as I sipped my wine giddily. “Thank you so much, babe, for remembering to do both of the things I asked. It makes me feel so loved.”
“Oh, you’re quite welcome, my love. I’ll do anything for you.”
So what that he fell asleep soon after dinner. We’ll have sex in the morning, I tell myself. And I dose off into sleep world myself. It is soft and light and dreamy and wonderful.
At some point in the night I felt it.. fingers on my pussy. And not just any ole fingers, but the rough assertive fingers of my husband. He had spread my legs with one of his hands and was poking around for evidence of my midnight desire.
“I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you, honey,” he whispers in my direction. It’s 3am and our room is as dark as it is quiet. He’s prodding around for another moment or so. I don’t remember what happened to his advance. The next thing I knew my 6:30am alarm was annoying me. I went out to the kitchen to make coffee.
“There she is, my sexy little goddess,” my husband says as he wraps his arms around my naked body. I was back in our room to change. He just got out of the shower and had one white towel on his head and another around his waist. He was cleaned out his ears with a Q-tip.
“Morning love,” I smile. “You slept like a rock last night.”
“Yeah, until about 3am. I tried to get some too.”
“Oh, I remember you touching me. What happened?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to waking you up. That wouldn’t be fair.”
“And you didn’t masturbate, right?”
“No,” he seemed excited and ready to go.
“Good boys get treats,” I say in a seductive manner. I reach to pull his bottom towel off.
“I want you to orgasm and I don’t have time for that this moment,” he reached over to kiss my lips. One of his hands found my breast and the other found my butt. “Tonight it’s on, sexy. I’m going to fuck you down.”
He reached for his pants and began to dress. He seemed rested, happy, and full of pride. I think this sex everyday deal just might be working.
“Oh, and I looked for your blog last night.”
“Oh!” I said. What a happy surprise.
“But I couldn’t find it. I typed in Stella Stories on google, but it brought up other Stella stuff.”
My husband isn’t the most technologically inclined. He’s a hands-on kinda man. “It’s a rather new blog. Google hasn’t indexed it yet. You gotta type in StellaStories.com, babe.”
He nodded his head.
I guess it’s good he didn’t find it anyways. Reading our stories in the middle of the night would have meant either I was getting up or his hand was coming out. And after reading some of the kinky stuff I’ve been writing, who could blame him?