The Better Man [MF]

Lola closed the door behind her and kicked her shoes off in the hallway. Dropping her keys and bag on the hall table, she made her way to the kitchen. Opening the cupboard next to the refrigerator, she extracts a single crystal white wine glass and places it on the counter. The slight suction of the refrigerator door makes a soft satisfying pop and she reaches in to withdraw the half-full bottle of her favorite Chardonnay. She carefully fills the glass to just slightly more than half and replaces the bottle in the fridge. She doesn’t like to get carried away, but looks forward to this for most of the late afternoon at work.

Picking up the glass and heading towards the living room, Lola sinks into the welcoming cushions of her husband’s chair. Whenever he’s away, she likes to curl up here in the evening, enjoying her wine and decompressing from her day. She takes a swallow of the wine; it is cool and crisp and sharp in her mouth and flows easily and pleasantly down her throat. Ah, she thinks. So good.

She thinks about her husband. He’s been away for three weeks, but he’ll return early tomorrow. Since it’s the weekend, they’ll spend the upcoming days together. She frowns slightly at the prospect. It’s been quiet in the house in the evenings in his absence. His return will change that dynamic, which is almost welcome after so much solitude, but frankly, she often feels like a dumb but decorative knick knack when he’s around. He doesn’t pay her much attention. Their sex life is mundane at best and on a schedule determined solely by him and thus irregular. He may want her when he gets back, but then it could be weeks or months before he’s interested again. Still…their marriage is companionable. The company will be welcome. The silence has become wearing. Although…

Lola has a secret. She hasn’t been completely alone in his absence. She smiles when she thinks of her friend. She doesn’t see him often, but always lets him know when her husband will be out of town, on the off chance he’ll be free. He’s been able to spend two evenings with her in the past three weeks and she shivers slightly as she remembers the passion they shared, the things she did and had done to her. He generally can’t provide much warning; she knows better than to ask him to stop by and would never presume to be clingy or demanding. He is a force, that one, she thinks to herself. Truth be told, she feels far closer to him than to her husband of several decades…but she keeps those thoughts to herself.

From the hallway, she hears the faint ping of a text message notification coming from her bag. Sighing, she uncurls and rises, moving slowly to retrieve her phone. It’s probably Mark, letting her know when his flight will land. Assuming all is going as planned, he should be home in time for breakfast. She’s mentally making a shopping list in her head as she reaches for her phone.

“Do you want to play?”

The message stares up at her from the screen and a frisson of anticipation runs down her spine. Mmmmm…he must be free. She knows he remembers when her husband is scheduled to return; he rarely overlooks even the smallest detail. Despite the infrequency with which they see each other, he recalls all the small facts she’s shared, remembers important dates in her life, thoughtfully acknowledges whatever small joys or disappointments she shares…his attention to detail, to her as a whole person, is intoxicating and has created a bond between them she was not anticipating. He sees her. After years of being largely invisible…it’s heavenly.

“Yes.”

She taps out the expected response and hits send. She can see him typing, the little bubbles running across the screen as she waits impatiently.

“Be ready by 7:00. You know what to do. Leave the door unlocked. See you soon, baby.”

Fuck…she consults her watch. She barely has enough time to prepare! Beyond excited at her good luck, she turns toward the bedroom and walks quickly in that direction, picking up her wine glass on the way. She ticks the preparations off in her mind: hot shower, appropriate clothing, toys, clean sheets (two sets), refreshments, candles…she’s got about an hour, time to get moving.

By 6:55, everything is in place and she is waiting, the anticipation sending tingles through her body. Wearing nothing but her lover’s favorite panties, Lola sits on the edge of the bed, her back to the door. The silence is deafening. She hears a faint click down the hall and knows that he has arrived. She can hear him moving about her kitchen, setting his keys down, possibly removing his coat and tie, opening the refrigerator, pouring a glass of wine. Her breathing shallows, her mouth opened slightly. She is almost panting. Still, she waits. He will take his time, but it will be worth it. She hears footsteps coming up the hall towards her bedroom. Now. Now it begins.

The atmosphere in the bedroom amps up as she hears the door close behind him. She can feel his presence, hear him slip his shoes off. The rustle of fabric tells her he must be removing his shirt. She wishes she could turn to watch, but she does not. The soft clink of metal against metal means he’s unbuckling his belt, and the soft slither of leather against fabric is so arousing. The button on his pants pops audibly and the zipper action is loud in her ears. Every muscle in her body involuntarily contracts, but she remains where she is, patiently awaiting his…action? Direction? Instruction? She has no idea where this is going tonight, but she trusts him implicitly. He’s done nothing to her yet and she is already soaking through the panties. God, she wants this so much, wants him so much.

He enters her field of vision and holds out his hand, drawing her up and into his arms. She nestles against his bare chest as he places little kisses along her shoulder, her neck, behind her ear. He gently bites her ear lobe, sending shivers through her. The gentle turns more aggressive as he captures her lips in a deep and passionate kiss, their tongues battling in her mouth. She clings to him like a vine, weak in the knees already. He leans back and spins her around so she is facing away from him. His cock is hard against her ass cheeks and he presses her tightly against him by wrapping his arms around her. He palms her breasts, flicking and pulling the nipples until they elongate and harden, hard enough to cut glass, she feels like. He is tugging and pulling them, pinching and rolling them between his thumbs and fingers. She can feel it in her pussy, which is now dripping, her juices slicking her thighs. He releases one breast and skims his hand towards her panties. Running his fingers under the edge, he finds her pussy, circles her clit with his fingers, but he doesn’t enter her, even as she twists against him trying to get some relief. And then his fingers are gone and she is left wanting and achy.

Without warning, he pushes her down on the bed, scootching her forward and moving in behind her. Hooking his thumbs in each side, he strips her of her panties, stopping to sniff them loudly before tossing them onto the floor. He pulls her hips up and back and she is head down, ass up in front of him. He kneels between her legs, caressing her ass cheeks, running his hands firmly over them, slipping his fingers forward along her lips, running them through the folds of her pussy and lubricating her ass with her juices. Back and forth, he spreads her wetness. She moans every time his fingers graze her cunt. Her hips thrust back, seeking him, but he is just out of reach. He leans back, reaching for the bag at the end of the bed. She feels something cold as his fingers begin to massage her asshole in earnest. Lube. He’s rubbing it in, fingering her ass, so much lube. Then, something firm at her opening, slowly pushing into her. She tenses involuntarily, but tries to relax as she wills her body to accept it. He’s pushing gently and then, with a slight pop, the butt plug seats itself in place. The fullness is heavenly and she moans her pleasure. With a click, he turns it on and it begins to vibrate in her ass, sending waves of pleasure through her and with a direct connection to her pussy. She wants to cum, so badly.

He moves back so that he can turn her, gently, onto her back. Finally, she can see him again. He crawls up her body slowly, stopping to lick and suck her nipples, biting gently…and not so gently. He kisses the soft spot in the center of her throat, before circling it with his left hand, placing his right alongside her cheek. He stares into her eyes intently before lowering his head to kiss her, deepening both the kiss and his grip on her throat in sync. As if his kisses didn’t already make her breathless. His cock is nestled against her lips and he moves back and forth, teasing her clit as she begins to struggle. Just as its about to be too much, he releases her throat, placing his hands on each side of her head and plunging his cock into her soaking wet cunt, burying himself balls deep. The feeling of his cock in her pussy and the vibe in her ass is…indescribable. The fullness. The sense of being completely taken.

She begs, a single word. “Please?” The only word that’s been spoken since their brief text exchange. He smiles down at her and flexes his hips backward, slowly, pulling almost all the way out of her. She grabs his ass, desperate for him to stay, pulling him towards her while arching her back. She wraps her legs around him, pulling him closer as he begins to move inside her. His thrusting, her writhing, the only sounds the slapping of his balls against her, the wet suck of her pussy, his increasingly labored breathing and her moans and cries. Their fucking has a satisfying point/counterpoint to it now and the rhythm is pushing her closer and closer to climax with every thrust. He can tell she is close when her fingernails start to dig into his back and he knows there will be marks tomorrow.

He slows momentarily, gathering her in his arms and rolling over so that she’s now astride him, riding his cock, so he can watch her. He reaches over and adjusts the plug, increasing the intensity of the vibe in her ass. She laces her fingers through his as a brace and begins to grind against him, crying out with each rise and fall. He can feel her tense and shudder and he holds her hands tightly as she cums around him, moaning his name over and over. The contractions from her orgasm massage his cock in such a good way, and he begins to thrust into her forcefully, making her scream in ecstasy. He lets go of her hands, placing his on her hips and moving her against his thrusting until everything both tightens and releases at once and he explodes into her, bathing her pussy in cum. She collapses on his chest and his arms encircle her as he places soft kisses on the top of her head, still buried deep inside her.

Eventually, he rolled them over so they were on their sides. He turned off the plug, and gently removed it from her ass, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. He tucked her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. They snuggled like this for…minutes? Hours? She had lost the sense of time. He whispered in her ear, “I’d like to stay.” She sighed. “Oh, baby, I’d like nothing more than that. But he’ll be home in the morning.” And like that, the magic started to dissipate. Neither of them liked the thought of her husband’s return very much. He kissed her shoulder and rolled over, getting out of the bed and beginning to dress. “Don’t bathe,” he said flatly. “If he’s going to fuck you when he comes home, I want me still dripping out of you.” And with that, he left her. She cried herself to sleep,alone and bereft.

She awoke, disoriented, when she felt the mattress give behind her. That hand on her hip…her husband was home. He nuzzled her neck and told her how much he’d missed her, how perfect it was to find her warm and sexily sleepy when he got home. He pressed up against her, already hard, and slipped his cock into her pussy without any preamble. She smiled softly to herself…the better man had already been there.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/8skuzy/the_better_man_mf