by Sylvia Ryan
I intend to tease him like he’d done with me, only giving a little, making him want more. But Levi wraps both arms around my torso, squeezing me tight on top of him. I’m still teasing the head when he cants his hips, thrusting his cock deep into my mouth. Shit, he’s lucky my teeth are out of the way. I gag once, and he stops fucking me with his tongue, “What’s wrong, babe? Out of practice?” He chuckles again and follows it with another lunge of his cock into the farthest reaches of my mouth.
It has been a long time since Levi challenged my limits, a long time. To prove I’m not out of practice, I concentrate on devouring him, giving everything. I want to blow his mind. I want him to lose his control and lose his load first.
The problem is, he’s not out of practice with the whole oral thing, and the tension within me builds. My muscles lock. I’m close to coming as his tongue relentlessly laves the perfect spot.
I want to scream around his cock and then a fleeting thought passes through my head. I remember again I can make noise. And I do. I scream long and loud around the flesh in my mouth, sending jolts of vibration from my throat up his shaft.
The orgasm that slams into me is long and I shudder uncontrollably through the duration, gripping his thighs in desperation and then, toward the end, I claw him with my nails. Just as my climax begins to wane, he blows. And for the first time in, literally, years I hear him come.
The “Fuck yeah” grunt and his groans are music to my ears. I revel in the feeling of satisfaction I receive from getting him off. I force myself to breathe through my nose and swallow everything he gives me, sucking him fully into my mouth and eagerly consuming the jerking spurts hitting my throat.
In the following minute, neither one of us moves. Eventually he settles me on the bed next to him. I lie in the shelter of his arms. In this moment, I’m happier than I can remember being in years. “God that was good. I think I have better orgasms when I can make noise,” I say to him as I roll closer and snuggle into his warmth.
“I think I come better when you make noise, too.”
I laugh, but now it’s over, I feel sadness begin to creep closer. “I don’t want to go back to the way it was between us. I don’t think I can bear having this with you and then going back to what it’s been.”
He’s quiet for a minute, absently caressing my arm. The sinking feeling we’ll have to go back to the way it was begins to set in.
“Same time next week?” he asks.
I lift my head to look at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, babe, I’ll make up the work I miss on Friday afternoon earlier in the week. It’s only a few hours.”
I squeal and am surprised at the noise escaping me. I’m not a squealing type of person. Squealing is what pigs do, but honest to God, the sound erupts from my mouth. I hug him tight and he guffaws at the tight squeeze combined with the laugh already coming out of his mouth.
“Can I ask you…” I shake my head. “Forget it.”
“No, Mia, don’t do that.” He tilts my head so our gazes meet. “It’s going to take trust on both sides for us to build what we have into what we want.”
He wants this too. Some pent-up area in my soul opens, and it seems as if I’m more relaxed in this moment than I can remember being for years and years. I’m floored to realize I’d been waiting on him to reclaim me as an important part of his life. To say or do something that would send me a clear message–he wants this too.
He’s given it to me. And it seems like that’s all I need from him to strip away my hesitation. “If I ask you a question, do you promise not to laugh?”
“I’ll try not to, but sometimes I can’t help myself so don’t hold it against me if I slip, okay?”
I smile at him. “Okay.”
“Shoot,” he says.
“Do you think there’s something wrong with me because I can’t come in the missionary position? All the women in movies seem to be totally satisfied, and I’ve never been able to get off that way.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You need some clit stimulation, that’s all.”
“I want to come when you’re inside me, Levi. I want us to come together, while we’re fucking. I don’t want to take turns anymore.”
He throws a toothy, wolflike smile at me. “I think I can arrange that.” His words make my heart soar.
“Really?” I whisper.
“Yes.”
My stomach twirls, tickling my insides. He’s still into me. He wants this connection, wants more of the sex, more of us. I am in heaven, and I’m also relieved.
Levi holds me and we doze together until we hear the garage door opener rumbling on its tracks. The girls are home. The dogs are barking. Our peace is broken. We rush to dress before they make their way upstairs. The real world is back with a vengeance. But our first Friday afternoon changes our marriage and opens our eyes to what’s been lost.
Levi
I smile as I look over my shoulder. Stepping on the clutch, I put my Audi into fifth gear and merge seamlessly into traffic. This lunch-hour trip to the seedier part of town will get me what I need to make Mia come with my cock inside her.
It’s been a long time since I walked through the door of the raunchy XXX store I had, on many occasions, frequented in my youth. As I enter now, I step back in time. It’s exactly the same. Cluttered and dingy. The faint green tint of fluorescent bulbs illuminate thousands of porn DVDs, competing for space with every sexual bauble known to mankind.
I browse the isles, knowing exactly what I’m looking for. My gaze skips over sex toys and I find myself creating still pictures in my mind of Mia tied with restraints, of her impaled with a butt plug. I’m psyched, fucking psyched.
This will not be her virgin romp in the sex toy playground, but it has been a long time. She’s asked for what she wants, and I’m going to give it to her. It will be good, better than she ever imagined with the help of two double-A batteries and something that will stick to her clit like glue.
Ahh, there it is. I pick up the box from the shelf. The Butterfly. Perfect. Strap it on and position it in exactly the right spot–the perfect blend of not too much vibration and not too little. I’ll be able to fuck her any way I want and she’ll still get off.
I start to get wood merely thinking about taking her from behind. I turn the box over to make sure. Yes, this is exactly what I want.
The old guy sitting on a stool behind the cash register takes my money, and afterward I sit in my car installing batteries into the toy. When I’m done, I tuck the Butterfly into my pocket.
On the way home, I fantasize about all the things I want to do with my Mia. There is so much catching up to do.
My mind wanders to the sliver of time we had together before the twins came. She was so perfectly willing to please me in the bedroom. I introduced new things, and she’d be right there with me, always following where I led her.
I make a quick lane change and pull into the grocery store. Minutes later, I’m headed toward home with a good bottle of merlot, some roasted chicken from the prepared foods counter, as well as salad from the salad bar.
She’s not home yet when I arrive, so I set a pretty table, dish out food and pour the wine.
I lean against the black granite countertop in our modern kitchen, waiting for her, sipping wine and playing with The Butterfly’s control box in the pocket of my suit jacket. When she comes home, she’s smiling, and when our gazes meet, so am I.
“Hello, beautiful.”
“Hello, husband.” Her eyes widen as she takes in the prepared food and wine. “Wow! You’ve been busy.”
I step closer to her and wrap my arms tightly around this amazing woman.
I don’t want to eat the lunch. All I want to do is get my new toy on her clit. I can’t hold back the grin spreading across my face at the thought of it. Turning away from her so she won’t see it, I lift the glasses from the counter and sober my expression.
I hand her a glass of red wine and then hold mine up. “Cheers.
”
“Cheers.” She sips the wine. “I’ve been looking forward to today.”
It seems like she’s buzzing. Her eyes are a little too wide, her movements a little too jerky. It’s cute, my horny little wife’s wild side. She’s so easy to read. I need no advanced skills to be her top. Her emotions are laid out on the table like a feast with just a look at her.
I meet her gaze. “Take off your blouse.” In an instant, her feelings play over her face and then her lips part, her breathing quickens, her cheeks flush. She raises a hand to the top button, and I’ve already lost patience with her dawdling. Gripping the center seams with my hands, I rip open the front. Buttons fly and a few jerks later, I have her arms out of her sleeves. The garment lies shredded in a pile on the floor.
“Skirt.”
She moves quickly, probably trying desperately to save her skirt, but I can’t help myself. One hard jerk and the side seam at the waist tears a little. With the next tug, I rip the thing totally off her body.
She stands before me unruffled and as motionless as a statue in a matching red bra and thong. High-heel black pumps are still on her feet.
“Look at you. My own personal slut.” I run the back of my finger over the lacy cup of her bra. “New?”
She nods.
“Take it off.” Mia raises her hands and unhooks the front clasp. The scarlet lace slides down the pale skin of her arms and the stark contrast in colors is like strawberries and cream.
“Turn and model for me.” I lift her hand over her head while she twirls in a circle. I watch her form intently. The blood-red fuck-me underwear erodes another layer of my control as she pirouettes prettily, like a prima ballerina. Her nipples pucker under my watchful eye.
She looks unsure. Her doubt as to whether I find her attractive chafes, and I growl low in my throat.
She finishes her slow circle, swallows and waits with a rapt expression. My cock is hard as a fucking rock.
“Panties.”
They’re resting on the tops of her shoes a second later.
“I bought you a present.” I cup her pussy and slightly part her with my middle finger so it’s resting over her clit.
“I like presents.” She doesn’t speak the words, she breathes them, and I realize if my cock gets any harder, it will split like a hot dog. I circle her until I’m standing behind her and groan at the sight before me. I nudge her fuck-me shoes wide apart and strap the Butterfly into place. I find it amusing the handheld box controlling the speeds is attached by a wire leading to her cunt as if it’s a bank vault wired to blow, or even better, a puppy on a short leash. I turn it on low. She yelps and jumps. I take immense pleasure from the pink staining her cheeks. I’m amazed I still have the capacity to trigger embarrassed color in her skin.
I step forward until we’re almost touching and lean into her. “Let’s eat.”
She sucks in a gulp of air, realizing she’s expected to eat with the low-level thrum between her legs assaulting her. I laugh, offering my hand.
“There’s no middle ground? You’ve shot straight back into incorrigible?” she asks.
I answer with the most depraved leer I’m capable of conveying and lead her by the wire attached to the device between her legs. After she sits, I serve her a piece of chicken and some salad, but I think I’ve lost her already. She’s squirming from side to side. As I take a sip of wine and a bite of food, I enjoy watching her attempts to ignore the toy. She isn’t good at it. Before long, she’s set her fork down.
“I can’t eat anymore. Please, Levi.” Her eyes are round saucers of worry. “I want to come with you inside me. She stands, moves toward me and falls to her knees next to my chair. I turn to look down at her and she rests her cheek on my lap.
“Okay, beautiful.” I hold a hand out to her. “Far be it for me to not give you what you ask for.”
She takes my hand, and I lead her to the bedroom. I undress at a leisurely pace. She watches, fidgeting back and forth from one foot to the other. Then she moans.
“Oh God, Levi, I need you in me.”
I shed the last of my clothes as the sweet admission spills from her ruby lips.
I stride toward her, wrap my arms around her waist and lift her off the ground. She wraps her legs around me. Two steps later, her back meets the chocolate-brown wall of our bedroom and my cock is inside her.
I go a little insane from there, cupping her ass, kneading the cheeks, separating them and exploring between them with a finger. I pound into her hard and fast. Dipping my head, I suction my lips against her neck and ravage the spot, biting, sucking and then rolling my tongue over the sensitive skin.
Mia digs her fingernails into my shoulders and yells my name. I bite again, harder this time and then suck the skin under my mouth, knowing the pull of the suction shoots right to her cunt.
She’s coming, her head tilts up toward heaven and an angelic cry skips through the air like music. Her inner muscles grip me and, “Fuck!” I can’t hold back. Like a wild animal, I roar through my release, pounding ruthlessly until there’s nothing left.
The sound of great drags of air being pulled into our lungs fills the room. I turn off The Butterfly while Mia rests her head on my shoulder and sags in my arms. I hold her tightly to me. I hold on for dear life.
“One of these Friday afternoons, I’m going to last longer than three-and-a-half minutes,” I grumble.
“I’m not complaining.”
Thirty seconds later, Mia giggles. I lean back so I can meet her gaze. She’s looking down at the floor. I follow her line of sight and find what she’s giggling at.
Our two dogs are sitting next to each other a few feet away, staring up at us with intense interest in their eyes.
“We’re doggie porn,” Mia says and then starts laughing harder.
I look over at my two pugs, their ugly faces trained on us.
“Back off, bitches. He’s mine,” Mia says and then growls at them, baring her teeth.
I can’t help but start laughing, too. It’s contagious. The more she laughs, the more I laugh until–She gasps, gives me an “oops” look and laughs even harder.
She’s barely able to take in a breath, but she declares, “I squirted you out.” And now she’s laughing so hard she’s crying. “When I laughed,” she says, wiping the tears away. “I squirted you out like a slippery pickle.”
By then, we’re both in hysterics. She unwinds her legs from me and I release my grip on her ass. Exhausted and still laughing uncontrollably we fall together onto the floor.
“Pickle?”
She starts laughing even harder. “Oh God, Levi. I’m gonna pee.” She can barely speak.
Neither can I.
I grab her and throw her over my lap and land a hard swat. “Pickle?”
“Okay, okay! Please!” She drags in another long breath. “Cucumber, then?” she says, which would have been okay, except then she starts laughing even harder.
Finally, I give up and join her.
Mia
“You should get a wax job,” Jess announces through the speaker in my car. “He’ll eat that shit up.” From the tone of her voice, I can tell she’s smiling. Jess is my oldest friend and the architect of some of my best and worst decisions.
“How do you know I don’t already have one?”
She snorts. “Oh, please.”
“You make it sound like I’m woolly mammoth hairy.” I feel a little insulted and then perturbed, probably because she’s right. I haven’t been bare down there since puberty. “Like I need a general contractor or something. I am trimmed for God’s sake.”
“I’m just sayin’ men prefer baby smooth, not pussy-fro.”
“He’s never complained…”
“Do it. You won’t be sorry. Oh and Mia?”
I sigh. “What?”
“Ahh.” She clears her throat. “Don’t forget the anal shrubbery while you’re doing your landscaping.” She laughs and disconnects.
At first, I roll my eyes an
d shake my head at the thought of completely bare lady bits. But the more I think about it throughout the day, the more I think Jess’s suggestion has merit. It’ll be a nice surprise lurking under the sex-kitten outfit I bought for this Friday afternoon.
I pick up the stuff I need to accomplish the task at home. Once I’m there, I lock myself in the bathroom and jump right in.
Near the end of the process, I have an epiphany. I actually could have used a general contractor for this job. I expected pain. I mean, who hasn’t seen the waxing scene from The 40-Year-Old Virgin, after all?
But I also learn waxing is a tediously long and impossibly messy process involving a hand mirror, hot wax and a test of my body’s aptitude to contort so my gaze can fall on places I’ve never cared to see before. There are times I’m so twisted up, to get the “anal shrubbery” Jess mentioned, I’m sure I could take a part-time job as a circus freak, Malleable Mia, contortionist extraordinaire.
I’m not sure what made me think doing it at home would be as good as having a professional do it. It isn’t. I won’t make that mistake again. Next time, no wax. I’ll try a razor instead.
So here’s the rub. Somewhere toward the end of the job, I realize my private parts are not attractive. In the porn I’ve seen, which isn’t much, all the women’s bits are pink and, I don’t know…cute. I don’t think mine are. When I’m done and stand in front of a full-length mirror, I look down at the newly bared area. It looks like I’m wearing a flesh-colored bodysuit. Somehow, I’ve managed to look like I have camel toe, and I’m naked. I’m barely able to see the slit that runs down the middle at all. My pussy looks like a third boob, minus the nipple. The lips are abnormally tiny, and the skin is not at all the color I’d pictured it would be. Oh my God. I laugh a little hysterically. When I started this ridiculous task, it never occurred to me I might have an ugly pussy.
I’m going to kill Jess.
As I clean up the hardened pieces of wax off my bathroom floor, I comfort myself with optimism. In the grand scheme of things, the discovery of my less-than-attractive private parts is petty. In the two months since we’ve been meeting for our Friday afternoons together, the weakened bond between Levi and I has flourished into a secret love affair.
