When He Comes Home [M/F]

He works all day, standing on his feet, dealing with miserable people who question his judgement, though they know he is far more educated.

He paints a smile on, inside the turmoil building. He is tired and he is sad; sad to see the state of things and sad that his life’s work will be for naught–a struggle against the walls being built up around him.

He is silent in his car while he drives home. He doesn’t live far yet most days he does not remember a moment of the drive. He replays the day in his mind as the wheel slides through his fingertips, instincts taking him to his home.

He tries to find the moments of success, he pleads with himself to forget the failures of the day, to go home with a blank slate so that his life can be more than just his work day.

He needs no keys, the door is unlocked. He pushes it open and drops his things on the table by the door, where a photo of he and his wife rests comfortably in an ornate white picture frame. She turns the corner and they meet eyes.

She understands so deeply that often he does not need to speak his struggles. She embraces him and her head falls to his shoulder. She puts her hand on the small of his back, gently showing him that she is there, her touch meaning more to him than anything else.

She takes him by the hand and guides him to their room where she unbuckles his belt and gently pulls it free from his pants. She unbuttons his top button, unzips his pants and pulls them down.

She reaches into his boxers and finds his manhood. It is currently tired and lifeless but she will revitalize him, as she always does.

They lie down on their bed, large and plush, pillows covering the top half. She takes off her clothes and positions herself between his legs and takes him in her mouth. It is inviting, both wet and warm, and it is one of his favorite places to be.

She moves him around in her mouth gently, slowly, and gives him vitality with each pass of her tongue. He feels himself breathing, more life entering and more sadness leaving. She drags her tongue up and down his shaft, his member expanding with each pass. 

He becomes whole when he is with her, in her. He is ready to feel powerful in a day of being powerless and so he pulls her up, his arms feeling strong and capable now. She lowers onto his aching, throbbing piece and her vast wetness swallows him.

Their bodies are now intertwined as deeply as their hearts. She moves on him slowly, more like a dance in his lap than a ride. He closes his eyes and feels the energy building inside him, more and more with each movement.

He is ready to unleash into her, to thank her for awakening him each day. He reaches up and holds her smooth breasts in his palms as he releases himself into her.

She dances quicker now, teasing every last drop out of him so that he may be as whole as possible.

When he is done, she is full of his juices and they lie together, holding each other in silence, thankful that they have each other to give life to. 

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/hyt65z/when_he_comes_home_mf

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