Give and Take, Part 2 [F/M] [Pegging] [Mature]

Warnings: This part has M/F. Questionable consent. This is part 2 of 4.

Tom accepted a new client the very next day, a commercial one, which kept him busy from dawn until dusk. He did not enter the house for a week straight.

Natalie’s health recovered, slowly but surely. She took two more days off work, then a half day, then slid back into her regular working schedule. The baby was sleeping now, and she could hear the relief in her son’s voice through the phone. She slept in her own bed and luxuriated in a few free nights, needed by no one.

Then, she turned her attention to the Tom problem.

That Friday, she picked up a roast, one of the suggested pairings of wine, and some local organic in-season vegetables from Whole Foods on the way home. She texted Tom the menu and invited him to join her for dinner at the dining room table.

He texted back a terse message stating that he was finishing up at the job site, and didn’t know when he would get home.

The text in itself, though, was a promising sign, and Natalie went ahead and prepared the dinner, and put out the cutlery. The clock ticked past 7, then past 8. At 8:30 PM Natalie ate her own portion (cold), wrapped up a serving for Tom arranged on the nice dishware, and put it in the fridge. On the higher shelf– the one that his eyes would meet first.

She’d gotten better at non-verbal communication herself, she thought. Or was it passive-aggressiveness? Her professor from that “Married Communication” class she’d taken so many years ago would have had *quite* a bit to say about her current relationship.

Taking a glass of wine to the living room couch, Natalie leaned back into the cushions with a sigh. A forbidden thought prickled at the edge of her consciousness, demanding to be let in. She didn’t often indulge herself this way, but with the wine softening her resolve, her mind slipped away into her most decadent fantasy…

In her imagination, Tom stood in the space between the kitchen table and the couch, a pensive but serious look on his face. He wore his work clothes, his undershirt stained with sweat and his tattered jeans dusty – he must have been out in the yard, or perhaps just returned from a job site – he rarely let himself sit still. She let her gaze wander from his broad shoulders past the curling chest hair just peeking out of his collar, down his well-muscled arms… and lower.

*Natalie,* he said to her. *Can we… talk?*

*Of course, Tom,* Natalie replied, patting her knees. *Come and sit down here, my darling.* He crossed the room to her, and sat down without complaint at her feet. It took a lot to make his imposing frame feel humble, but he managed it. Natalie reached out, running her fingers through his sandy, graying curls. Tom leaned closer, his eyes bright and sincere in the lamplight.

*Natalie,* he told her, face grave, *I think I’m still affected by toxic masculinity.* She nodded – in this fantasy, Tom had undergone deep self-reflection and read up thoroughly on the concept. Oh–and acknowledged that it actually existed. *It’s a hard road to undo that sort of life conditioning, dear – it takes time.*

*I know. I’m still embarrassed to talk about our sex life, though.*

*Mm-hmm.*

*And I’m storming around angry and hurt, because you failed to read my mind and understand what I wanted from you without saying words.*

*I know, dear.*

*And I’m probably jealous of a baby. Which is ridiculous…!*

*It is, Tom! But nobody is perfect. I love you, and we can work though this.*

*I love you too, Natalie, which are words I can say to your face even when the light is on*. Without *a dildo up my ass.*

*Oh Tom! Would you like me to put one in your ass tonight anyway? You look so* handsome *down there…*

*Yes, Natalie, I would. I really,* really *would… the purple one ends our sessions too fast, though… can we start with the blue one…?*

The fantasy continued from there, in a *very* appealing manner– but Natalie shook herself out of it. Clearly her libido had returned, but she preferred to save it for the real thing. She’d hoped she’d have a chance at that tonight… but… oh well. Nothing was ever easy when it came to Tom.

However, she did appreciate a challenge from time to time. And that, Tom could *always* provide. In the game of love between them, this was just another move on the board. She finished her glass of wine and moved on with her evening.

At 9:30 PM, she went to the bedroom, and read a book.

At 10 PM, she went to sleep.

At 11:30 PM, Tom opened the door to her room. He didn’t turn on the light.

Natalie woke up immediately (she was a light sleeper) but didn’t move. They both waited for a moment. At last, Natalie moved one of her legs, sliding it slowly apart from the other.

Tom stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

Natalie stayed still, her eyes closed in the pitch dark as Tom walked to the bed, listening to his clothing rustling as he took it off. *Give and take*, she thought – their relationship had been about give and take from day one, sitting across from each other at a small table in the local bookstore, eyes undressing each other while they discussed their opposing political views. Both of them scoring points, yes; but also allowing points to be scored. It was her turn, now, to give to him.

He threw the covers off of her body, the rush of cold air making her start. His hands landed first on her breasts, fingers circling the nipples – sliding them down toward her waist, he pulled up her pajama shirt with one hand while pulling down her pants with the other. The air was chilly as it touched her exposed stomach and thighs—his warm breath, though, traveled through the crotch of her panties. Tom waited, head a few inches from her pussy, his breath caressing her through the cloth. Then he pulled them down too, and buried his face in it.

Natalie relaxed into the feeling of his tongue, but not too much, as she suspected this part wouldn’t last long. His tongue found her clit – but his strokes were rough, unfocused, darting all over. He gripped her hips with both hands, just hard enough to hurt. Natalie let him maul her with his mouth down there – tipping her hips upwards to meet him halfway. It didn’t feel *good*, per se, but that was the thing about Tom. When he was with you–in whatever way– you *knew* it. The world around you just… faded away.

With a growl, Tom ripped his head away from her crotch, clambering up on all fours until his lips met hers, teeth brushing against the side of her mouth. Natalie was not a small woman, but when Tom got this way, she felt the difference in their bodies– how much bigger and stronger and more *intense* he was–trembling through every place their skin touched. She submitted to him, her nose filling with the smell of his sweat and the plaster in his hair from the job site—and also, as he pinned one of her hands next to her head, the chemical odor of the rubber coating the wires. He pinned the other hand down, and entered her.

Tom was the largest man Natalie had ever slept with. She had heard it said many times that generous endowment was popular among the ladies, but she did wonder–did any of these “ladies” happen to be well past menopause? And did their vaginas also become less, well, *elastic* when it had been a while since the last time? Usually at this point she’d stop him and pointedly crack open the lube, but tonight, well…. She gritted her teeth as he shoved it all the way inside in a single push, straight back to the cervix, glad for the darkness, glad that he was too worked up right now to pay attention. *Give and take*. *Give and take…!*

He knew her body well, even when overtaken by lust and anger – as soon as he was fully in, he aimed straight at the cluster of nerves deep in the back, the ones that made her moan aloud without meaning to. At first, it felt like the sounds were being ripped out of her, but her vagina warmed, softened, adjusted—the pain flipped over its own edge into pleasure, and she relaxed her throat, too, freeing her voice, giving him what he wanted. His own breathing hitched ragged in response, and he shoved both her wrists deep into the mattress as he pounded his hips against hers, staccato, *fortissimo*, just right. As she climaxed he kissed her neck, sloppy and open-mouthed–grunting as he timed his own release to match–spilling hot inside of her. Then he collapsed, crushing her into the bed.

They both lay there for a moment, panting. Ignoring the pressure on her rib cage, Natalie worked one of her hands out from under his, reaching up to stroke the curly hairs that grew at the back of his neck. He let her.

Before she ran out of breath completely, Tom rolled over and off with an explosive sigh, turning his back on her to go to sleep. Well – almost entirely – he threw his ankle over hers as he shifted, in a way that could have been incidental. But Natalie knew better.

Given the delicacy of every choice right now, Natalie decided not to try to clean up. Instead, she listened as Tom’s breathing slowed, transitioning into a light snore as he drifted into sleep within minutes. It wouldn’t be quite as easy for her, though, as she stared upwards in the darkness, his ankle hot on her skin. *Give and take…*

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/dxzem7/give_and_take_part_2_fm_pegging_mature