Well that didn’t last long… the twice-a-day sex my husband proposed yesterday. Filled with such desire after secretly reading my online erotic stories, he planned both an evening and morning routine for us for the rest of the year. But this morning he didn’t touch me.
“You’re cut off,” he said as he dressed.
I came in our bedroom and disrobed as I always do in the mornings after I get the kids up. Of course, I flaunt it in front of him, my sexy beautiful, perfectly proportioned nude body. My buxom breasts perched nice on my chest, my stomach taunt with slender seduction, and my ample butt begging to be pinched. It’s my morning tease, my hook to sink. He’s supposed to bite. This morning he didn’t.
“I thought we were having sex every morning?” I say sweetly as I rub on his clothed chest.
“Nope.” My husband acts disinterested when he’s trying to prove a point. His point today is the fact that last night’s sex was all about me and nothing else. Guess you could say he didn’t care to donate a charity fuck.
It was 10pm Sunday night, and we had just tucked the kids in bed. Sex earlier in the day was not intercourse at all since my pussy had been sore the night before. I figured I’d give her 24 hrs to heal. So when he advanced me Sunday morning, I suggested he jack off in my mouth, and he greedily accepted the offer.
As usual, I cuddled up to his chest, combed through his thick fur and purred sexy thoughts in his ear while he stroked his dick. Within a few minutes, he was pushing my face down to his crotch and motioning for me to catch his white gooey goodness. I took his dick into my mouth and felt what seemed like the first bit of success before being abruptly pulled off. My husband pulled me by my hair to watch as his cum squirted into my mouth. He doesn’t like it disappearing down my throat without any visual evidence sometimes.
I kept my mouth open and my tongue out while he completed his task. Cum ended up on my top and bottom lips and on his pubic hair. I cleaned it all up like the trained whore I am. Not one bit of his sacred juice was wasted.
So when it was time to fuck last night at 10pm, I was very interested although I also wanted to take it slow. My husband moved down under the comforter to the pot of gold between my legs and licked her to life. My clit chirped with desire at the first touch, that horny little thing, but my pussy took a little more heavy convincing.
“My clit is like the ring leader,” I laughed. “She gets to be rubbed and satisfied, while my pussy takes all of the beating.”
“Hmm, I have been pounding your pussy.” My husband’s excitement was building. “She’s been used a lot this year.”
He concentrated his licking efforts on my pussy lips and the flowered opening to my sex center. I’m not sure if it was my wetness or his saliva, but pretty soon my pussy was ready to get back to doing her life’s work.
He pulled himself into my least favorite position.
“The tired married side fuck,” my husband laughed referring to the name I gave it in one of my sex stories. We laughed. “It might not be your favorite, but it’s the position that takes it easy on you. I can’t pound you with my big dick in this position like I can when I’m behind you or on top.”
He slipped himself inside and moaned. His horse dick was at full attention and I shifted to make sure he could get as much pleasure as possible. My pussy was made to worship him. I played with my clit and closed my eyes. He was saying stuff, all kinds of kinky things, but I don’t remember most of it. I was somewhere else fantasizing about something else. There was the neighborhood again. There were many guys. I was young, very young, and I please them all. Before long I was cumming.
Not wanting to get behind me to finish himself off easily and potentially hurt me, he repeated the same scene from the morning. He invited my newly climaxed self to his side while he stroked his dick.
“What were you fantasizing about, sexy?” My husband asked. I guess by now he’s realized that if I’m quiet with my eyes closed, I’ll feeling his dick but probably not fucking him in my mind.
“I can’t tell you,” I whispered in his ear.
“Yes, you can.” He was jacking off so quickly it shook the bed. “I want to know what dirty things you were dreaming up.”
“No, I can’t.” I whispered. I wasn’t trying to tease him. I really can’t do it. “My fantasies are so nasty, babe. It’s going to take time.”
“We have a long life together.” He reassured me. “Can you give me just as few clues?” He was desperate to be involved in my story.
“I was 13.”
He moaned. “That got my dick’s attention. Go on.”
“That’s all.” I kissed his ear and the side of his neck adoringly.
“I wished I’d been fucking you at 13.”
I let the story go figuring he’d run with it, but it wasn’t enough.
“I want your school girl pussy, Stella.”
Oh, dear reader, you know nothing about that.
“Absolutely not tonight.” My hand caressed his stubbly face.
“This is no fun.”
I could tell we weren’t getting anywhere fast so I turned over and said goodnight. His mood was eager but satisfied, like a gluttonous fat cat. He’s not really hungry, but he wants the sensation of a delicious meal. He wants to be topped off, but that’s a tough mountain to climb when his satisfaction is already packed so high. I wasn’t in the mood to try.
“Oh, so it’s like that.” He stopped stroking himself, got up, blew out the candles and closed the curtains.
“You’ll be fine.” I got comfortable and closed my eyes.
So when I attempted sex this morning, his distance didn’t surprise.
“Well, we have to fuck sometime today.” I teased still naked in front of him.
“No I don’t.” He refused to look at my body. He grabbed his phone, his jacket, his wallet and his ego. “Now, excuse me while I go.” He wasn’t mad, just pouting like a kid. It’s actually kinda cute.
“Yes, you do. It’s our pact. You have to fuck me today whether or not you want to.”