I’m sitting in the recliner, she comes in to say she’s going to the gym. She’s in a gym crop top and stretch pants.
I’m a boobs man, more so than an ass man. But there’s something erotically unsettling about a toned midriff on a woman. And when like my girlfriend, there’s a navel ring thrown in there, that exposed belly becomes my sexual Achilles heel. I’ll die there.
So normally I’d fuck her. I wouldn’t even say anything. Lusty stare, feeble protests from her, kiss her belly while she laughs loudly initially then stops laughing when I kiss lower and lower. Get her wet enough and then fuck her against a wall.
Today there was going to be no fucking. Several times that week we tried to have sex and I just couldn’t stay hard. Was playing snooker with a rope. Shit week at work, plus some other personal trouble I told myself it was. Surely I shouldn’t be having dick troubles in my 30s. The last time we tried was painful. I ate her out and she came but was squirming, restless, submissively whimpering, staring at me with pleading fuck me eyes.