He drove home after a late night at school. A decent day, but still happy to head home. Wife and child in their probably too big, probably too bright home. Quiet “how was your day?” and playing “family” ahead of him. He would be the baby. The girl would be the mom. Fun. Exhausted fun. He would cook dinner. Two would enjoy. The small one not so much. The little one would go to sleep after bargaining and sincere questioning. Not a drop of malice, but still a mini marathon of patience. He would clunk back down the stairs. She would be on the couch. In work clothes. Or sweats. TV on. She would be watching. Or on her phone. Working. Or not. There. Or not. All would be fine. He might advance. She might consent. Or not. The sun barely set, they would brush their teeth. One last glance or ten at the phone. Lights off. Sleep. Or not. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
He opens the garage. Climbs out of his car. Steels himself for nothing in particular. Ready to greet and repeat. But.
When the door opens. The lights are low. Quiet music is playing. His music. He stops. He waits. Confused. He slowly steps. On the counter sits a condensation coated cocktail. Old fashioned. His favorite. He pauses again. Did she learn to make his drink? Why now? It’s been eleven years. Has she ever made me a drink? He stares at it as he wraps his hand around the glass. Still looking down, he takes a sip. Perfect. The warm burn flows down his throat. He suddenly becomes aware. He smells dinner. He looks up. Notices two things simultaneously. One. The kitchen is spotless. He knows food has been cooked, but there is no evidence. Two. More important. Much. She is standing there. Not standing. Posing. Imposing. Impossible.
Not in work clothes. Not in sweats. Something he’s never seen before. Skimpy. Scandalous. Unbelievably sexy. Light blue? Never pictured that. Wow. Hair done. Beautifully. Eyes lined full and smoky. Eyes bright and fiery. Lips. Dark red and full. Those shoulders. He always loved her shoulders. Is she wearing a push up? She is. High cut. Very high. That can’t even cover all of her. It doesn’t. The bottom of her perfect ass peaks out. She knows he loves it. She knows that is his favorite. Heels. Beautiful calves. Always has. He told her that. She heard. But didn’t listen. The old fashioned she learned to make for him slid an inch toward the floor. He tightened his grip just in time.
“Hi.” All he could manage.
She glided toward him. He reached out for her. Ready. His hand moves toward her barely covered back side as he leaned in to kiss her. A hand grips his wrist. Firm. Almost painful. Her lips close to his. No contact.
“Not yet.” She whispers. Pushes his hand away. Steps back. Looks into his eyes. They burn. She bites her lip. He stares down at his drink. She turns away. Walks to the oven. He takes a sip. He looks back to her. She knew he would. She opens the oven. Bends at the hips to reach inside. Her Dress? Babydoll? Teddy? slides up. Revealing everything. He stares. She knew he would. He takes a sip. A gulp. Puts down his drink.
She closes the oven. Holding their warmed dinner. Steak. Potatoes. Brussel sprouts. Their go to fancy meal. She carries it over to the table. He follows. He sits. She walks away again. Slowly. Knowing he’s watching. He is. Grabs his drink. Walks back. Never taking her eyes off of him. She sits. In his lap. Crossing her legs. Pushing herself on to him. She sips his drink. She hates whiskey. She does. She doesn’t want it. She leans in slowly. Kisses him hard. Pushes the drink from her mouth to his. A dribble down his chin. She wipes it with her finger. Puts it on his lips. Stands up. Sits in her chair. They eat. She drinks wine. An almost silent meal. He can’t focus. She knows that. He doesn’t know what to say. She knows that. She lets the fork linger on her lips longer than usual. She licks her lips. He finishes his drink. She stands. Makes him another. She practiced this. That makes it better. Somehow.
She finishes her meal. Grabs her glass. Fills it. Turns. Without a word. Walks to the bedroom. He follows. Half of his food still in his plate. The walk from the table to their room. The room they share. The walk seems interminable. Endless. He wants so badly to be there. Be in. Be with. Finally crossing the threshold. Candles. Smell of cinnamon. And maybe lavender. The music from the living room speaker now muted and hollow. Coming through walls. She lays on the bed. Legs slightly spread. She looks at him. Half smirk. Knowing. She beckons him to the bed with a finger. First pulling it toward her. He moves. Her finger now pointing down. He grins. Unable to stay cool. He puts his hands on the bed. Begins crawling toward her. His face inching toward her. Dying to taste her. He stops. Not by choice. The ball of her shoe firmly placed on his forehead. Pushes him away. She laughs. No condescension. No spite. Her plan. Her way. She reaches to her night stand.
“Rub my feet.”
Without response. He takes the lotion from her outstretched hand. Their skin touching. He sits facing her. Relishing in this touch. Firm. Deep touch. He lifts her leg. Adjusts her foot. Massages her. From this angle he can still see her. Parting slightly as her leg is pushed away from center. Seeing her. Inside of her. Dying to touch her. He presses down the plunger and more white lotion erupts into his hand. He massages. He hears a slight moan. Unsure if she actually made it. Or if he imagined it. He carefully pumps again. More lotion. Switches feet. As he pulls one leg over to and the other away, he sees her part slightly again. A string of moisture connecting. Her lips separate. He squeezes. Another tiny moan. This one had to have escaped her. He finishes. She slowly sits up
Not speaking. She takes back the lotion. Places it back on the nightstand. She runs her hand along the smooth sheets next to her. He less than delicately moves to the indentation left by her hand. She rises to her knees. Gently brings her leg across his body. Letting it touch him as it passes over. Her hands find the back of his head. She presses her mouth to his. Opens it. Pushes her tongue deep into his mouth. They kiss like this. Long. Slow. Deep. For a long time. He loves it. He had missed this new love expression. He longed for it. Here it was. Her taste floods his mind. Memories of past love. Present love. Evidence of future love. She slowly. Very slowly. Pulls away. Their lips stick together. Like they don’t want to be apart. She turns his head slightly. Kisses his neck. Licks. Bites his earlobe. Presses her tongue into his ear. It is loud. And wet. His eyes roll back. His mouth dries. She kisses him again. Pushing in to him hard. It hurts. He pushes back. Not able to be close enough. She bites his lower lip. Pulls away. Still biting. Let’s go. Leans back in. A small peck. She sits up. Showing herself to him again. Her striking face. He can’t help but smile. She smiles back. Her smile. Perfect. Just a glimpse of the bashful woman he expected to come home to tonight.
She places her soft, warm hands under his shirt. Pulls it up. Kisses his stomach. Pulls it higher. With a little violence. As he raises his arms to let the shirt come off, she presses her chest into his face. Soft, perfect. He kisses her sternum. Puts his mouth on her breasts. She lets more noise slip between parted lips. Her hands make their way to his hair. Gripping tightly. Pulling back. His neck exposed. She kisses. Licks it. Pulls harder. Her other hand moves to his chest. She gently runs her finger tips over his nipples. Down to his abs. Over his pants and to his crotch. Just for a moment. She wants him to ask for more. She moves her mouth to his chest. Kissing and licking his nipples. Without removing her mouth, she begins to pull down his pants. He can’t help himself and helps her pull them down. Her hand runs back over his underwear. Purposefully touching so lightly it causes him to jump. She kisses him again. Even wetter than before. She takes his hand. Puts his middle and ring fingers in her mouth. Slides her tongue between his fingers. By his wrist she brings his finger slowly to her. As she pushes them against her she flinches. She pauses. Pushes him against her harder. She kisses him. He hasn’t felt her this wet in eleven years. He presses his fingers into her. She presses back against them. In rhythm they push and pull. Her mouth never leaving his. Her moans muffled in his mouth. She pushes against him harder. Unable to contain herself she pulls her mouth from his and gasps in air. Letting it out again with a small squeak and silence. Her body trembles on his. Her back arches and drops. She lays on him for a moment. Her face pressed into his chest. His fingers still inside her. She slowly. So slowly. Moves her body away from his glistening fingers.
She kisses his chest again. Softly. Begins to move her way down. Taking time to kiss. Caress. Lick. Her hand slides down to hold his balls. She presses them lightly with her fingertips. She slides her body down his legs. With her other hand she lightly touches the head of his penis. She wraps her hand around tighter. She can’t remember him ever feeling this hard. She knows he is ready to burst. She takes care to make sure that doesn’t happen quite yet. She gives him one more fiery look before moving her head down to her hand. Her tongue lightly flicks his scrotum. He jumps a little. Her mouth slowly wraps around one of his balls. He can feel her tongue looping around him. She pulls with her mouth. Pleasure and pain wound into one. With a small, hollow popping sound, she removes her mouth. Does the same on the other side. Moves her mouth to the base of his penis. She takes a moment to make sure her tongue is very wet and begins to lick where his balls and shaft connect. His toes curl. She once again grabs the head of his penis. Careful again. Knowing she built this up. Knowing he could finish at any moment. She looks at him. Mouth still on him. Licks slowly from the base to the head. Her soft, wet lips kiss the tip of his almost overwhelmed penis. She pulls away. Uses just her tongue. Puts her mouth back on. He can feel her saliva dripping down. So wet. So perfect. Her tongue is moving in ways he hasn’t felt before. Did she watch a video? Take a class? This is incredible. She can sense him getting closer. Stops. Kisses him on the mouth again. Moves back down to his balls and sucks again. She puts her mouth on his cock again. This time, gentleness gone. She plunges her head down. Taking almost all of him down her throat. This sends him to the edge. She knew it would. He tells her, “I’m going to cum.” She already knew that. Could feel that. Wanted that. Expecting her to take her mouth off of him, he looks at her again. With her lips wrapped around him, she looks into his eyes. Pushes her mouth on him deeply. He holds his breath. Looks down at her again to see her hand resting against her clit. Playing with herself as she pleasures him. He cannot hold any longer and explodes into her. Once again, expecting her to stop. Nervous he made a mistake. She doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t hesitate. Just keeps on sucking. His post orgasm sensitivity skyrocketing. She continues. Wrapping her tongue around him. Moving her lips up and down him. He writhes in a twisted combination of pleasure and overwhelming sensitivity. She continues. He is still rock hard. She was counting on that.
She slowly lifts her head off of him. A small string of saliva pulls up with her. She looks into his eyes. Gently wipes off the corners of her mouth with her thumb. Her hand still wrapped around him. She slides her body on his again. Kisses him. He kisses back. Hard. Thankful for her. Thankful for this gift. “Ready for more?”
He is taken aback. Sure it was over. So happy with what it was. He stutters. She smiles. “I’ll take that as a yes.” They kiss again. He digs his fingers into her back. Holding her as close as he can. She moves her mouth to his ear once again and plunges her tongue inside. “Do you want to see my ass?” He grabs her face. Looks into her eyes. Kisses her. “I’ll take that as another yes.” She smiles. She swings her leg back over him. Turns on her hands and knees. Stopping for a moment to let him look at her again. Her pussy wet and ready. Her beautiful, perfect ass hiding a little behind her lingerie. She pulls her leg over him again, now facing away. She raises her body up just enough to reach under and grab his penis. She slowly positions herself and lets her body sink onto him. Very slowly. She presses her body down so he is as deep inside her as possible. Very slowly she begins to grind her hips. First in a small circle that drives him wild. Her muscles flexing and relaxing. Those sexy dimples on her lower back catching the candlelight. She leans forward. Arches her hips and begins to move up and down slowly on him. The muscles on her lower back and upper ass tense and release. He can see himself moving in and out of her. She lifts higher. Pushes deeper. She is getting close. She turns to look at him. He looks back. Her face begins to scrunch just a little. Her eyes shutting. The lines above her nose pinching. Turns away. She takes in a sharp breath. He feels her tighten around him. He grabs her feet. Her calves. Squeezes her. Reaches out to hold her hips. Brings her down on him harder. Her body now clapping against his. She stops for just a moment. A pause. And then. With a scream of pleasure, her body quivers on top of his. He pushes deep into her. She jerks and pulses. He collapses. Her body becomes limp. Her inner thigh continues to twitch. She leans back. Lowers her back onto his chest. Still inside her, he wraps his arms around her chest. Holding her breasts. Squeezing her into him. She turns her head and kisses him. “I love you” they say to each other. Almost simultaneously. She slides herself off of him. Comes back for one more kiss. She presses her forehead against his.
As she gets up and out of bed, she turns her head back to him. Smiles. “That was fun.” He laughs. Unable to think of anything clever to say. Too euphoric to form a thought. The bathroom door closes. The shower turns on. As the water runs, he closes his eyes. Still shocked. His penis and balls aching but relaxed. He hears the shower door open and close. His body sinks into the bed.
When he awakens, the room is black. The candles long blown out. She is asleep on her back to his right. Nightshirt and panties on. He hears her breathing. Sees her chest rise and fall in the dim light from the curtained window. He tells himself to go back to sleep. But he can’t stop staring at her. She is beautiful. Perfect. His dream. He wants more of her. Tells himself to stop. Go to sleep. Don’t push your luck. She’s asleep. But he pulls down the covers a little anyway. The curve between her legs is all he can see. He quietly slides down the covers to below her knees. He silently crawls in front of her and lays on his stomach. With his index finger, he pulls her panties to the side. Her lips slightly spread. He inches forward. Gently puts his mouth on her. Her taste floods his mouth. Better than any fancy dinner. He licks her slowly and deeply. She begins to move. Afraid he pushed this wonderful night too far, he hesitates. Her hands find his head. They pull him into her. Her nails in his hair. Her hips slowly gyrate on his face. He puts his tongue inside her. She presses him into her harder. He can barely breathe. She once again pauses for just a moment. Then her body jerks and she lets out a throaty moan. He stays pressed against her. Waits for her body to calm. Slides her panties back in place. Climbs back to his spot in bed. Pulls the sheets back up. No words. No sounds. They both smile as they drift back to sleep.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/f9b404/a_dream_i_had_about_my_wife
Bravo ??. Seriously, well done??