“How do you feel now?”
“Incredibly horny,” he said immediately. “This is like three different fantasies coming to life at the same time. You have no idea.” He paused, his smile turning shy. “Is it doing anything for you?”
She felt like she was dripping through her underwear. For a moment, she imagined ordering him to do it again. Then beckoning him forward, opening her legs, holding his face in there until she came. Finally, sending him off to make her dinner not only with his cock hard and dripping but with her juices still smeared across his face.
She brought herself back under control. Even she wasn’t that mean.
“A naked man kneeling in front of me telling me I’m his fantasy come to life?” She affected a nonchalant shrug. “Seems like that’s just how Tuesdays have been going recently.”
And she realized that was simply the truth, ever since the fateful day she’d worn those shoes for him.
He had a goofy smile on his face. “Tuesdays are good days.”
“I’d better do my practice.” She bent over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Want me to take that towel and lube? It’s on my way.”
She waited for him to wipe himself off. Then she took the towel and lube into the bathroom. She had a vibrator in the medicine cabinet. The towel went into her mouth so he wouldn’t hear her. She didn’t need the lube after all.
When she had recovered, she cleaned herself up and threw the towel into the hamper, along with her utterly sodden underwear. She had banged her leg against the pedestal under the sink, or maybe against the cold, hard tiles.
Doing it on the bathroom floor didn’t seem like such a good idea after all. It’d simply been the first to come to mind and in her frenzy to get off she hadn’t considered the downsides.
Too late, it occurred to her that a man who had edged himself for her entertainment would probably have been willing to eat her out. For all she knew, such a man might have gotten a thrill from watching her flaunt her orgasm even as she denied him his.
She remembered again what he had said. I won’t get mad at you for asking. She should have at least asked.
All in, the vibrator on the bathroom floor had been a bad plan in quite a few ways.
She started asking him more questions. Often before practice, while he was on his knees in front of her, his stiff cock under her foot assuring her of his excitement. Sometimes in bed before they fell asleep. Once on the couch as they were watching an episode.
“What’s the most times you’ve edged in a single sitting?” He couldn’t remember, but at least three. Maybe five.
“If you’re okay with ‘faceless meat dildo,’ is there anything you don’t want me to call you?” Yes, lots. Racial slurs. A dog (though puppy was okay). Selfish. A poor husband, a ungrateful son. Again she was left reeling by the sheer volume of things that would never, ever have occurred to her.
“How would you feel if I asked you to eat me out without giving you any relief in return?” Two thumbs up and a wink. She rubbed her ankle ruefully, remembering her clever plan that really wasn’t.
“Wouldn’t you feel, I don’t know, used?” Yes! And he would love that. For short periods, within the context of a loving relationship, he fantasized about her utterly disregarding his own needs.
Men were weird, and she was starting to suspect hers was weirder than most.
“How long would you kiss and lick my shoes, if I let you go on as long as you liked?” He didn’t know. He fantasized about all night, but even he realized that was ridiculous. At least ten minutes? He’d never come anywhere close to wanting to stop on his own.
A moment after he said that, he added, “That’s not a hint, by the way. I know it’s not very stimulating for you.”
“To be honest, what you do isn’t the hard part. What wears me out is pretending to be excited about it.”
“Honey, it’s not a secret that this is more my thing than yours.”
“Okay, but it’s got to be a boner-killer if you’re having this intensely erotic experience and I’m sitting there reading a book, right?”
He thought about that. “I don’t know. Maybe if you were affectionate about it. Like when you offer me a handjob instead of sex. We both know you wouldn’t be doing it unless I’d asked. But I did and you like me so here we are. That doesn’t seem so bad.”
She gave him that coy half-smile she knew he liked. “Well, maybe that could be arranged. If you’re a very good little boy.”
She was surprised by how easy and ordinary these questions became. Not awkward, fraught conversations but things she could pop as casually as, “What’s for dinner?”
Or so she thought.
They were walking in the park. When they came to a good stopping point on the grocery list, she glanced away. She still found it hard to make eye contact when she asked these questions.
“How would you feel if we designated some period of time during which I could ask you to fetch me my faceless meat dildo and you’d have to go out of the room and strip and crawl back in. Then we’d do whatever I wanted, which probably wouldn’t be much fun for you, and I’d send you away afterward to get dressed—”
“Stop!” he hissed, grabbing her arm. He leaned in. “Okay, remember when you asked to tell you when I didn’t like what you were doing? This. This is not okay.”
Her stomach dropped. “I’m sorry,” she said, staring down at her feet. “I’m sorry. We won’t do it. I’ll never bring it up again.”
“No, not that, this. This. Look at me.”
She forced her eyes up and realized he was trying to point discreetly by nodding downward. She followed his eyes back down to the bulge in his pants.
“This is not okay, all right? You can’t do this to me in the park. I can’t walk like this.” He looked around, flustered, spotted a bench. “Can we sit down?”
She followed him meekly to the bench, stomach still clenched. Icarus. She was Icarus and these months had been her moment in the sun and now began her long fall back to earth.
He took both her hands. “What you just described was very exciting. I would like to do that. But I don’t want to talk about it in the park.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry. I know you’re a very private person.”
He sighed. “You’ve been a vicious tease these last few weeks with all these innocent little questions of yours, and—what?”
She had stiffened in shock.
As usual, he figured it out. “You’re kidding me.”
She looked away. “You said you wouldn’t get mad at me for asking so I’ve been asking. That’s all.”
“You thought you’d bring up some wonderfully hot idea, half the time while playing with my cock, we’d talk about it, and then we’d just go on with our lives?” He rarely so much as raised his voice to her, but sometimes when she screwed up he had this way of speaking with gentle incredulity.
He said he wasn’t angry in those moments, and she believed him. He wasn’t angry. He was flabbergasted by the depth of her stupidity. It was far worse.
She nodded. She dared not look at him. She would cry if she saw his face, and that wouldn’t do anyone any good.
“Would it surprise you to know that I think about it, off and on, for the rest of the day? That I’ve been jerking off into the toilet every night, sometimes even in the middle of the day?”
She took a deep breath, found her steady voice. “No. I didn’t know that.” Another deep breath. “I knew it turned you on. I meant to do that. I didn’t know how much.” Deep breath. “I remember you asking for a hand job on Saturday.” Deep breath. “I remember thinking that it’d been a long time since we’d done anything recreational.”
He hugged her. She hugged back tentatively. Speaking into her hair, he said, “The last few weeks have been amazing. I would love for you to continue when we get home, if you want to do that. But please don’t make me erect in a public park. Even if there’s nobody around when you start.”
“Okay,” she said. She had blinked back enough tears that she couldn’t stop herself from sniffling into his jacket. She cringed. The thought of him comforting her right now was unbearable. “My nose is running,” she said, daring him to contradict her.
“We can go. Let’s, um, can I tell you about this article I was reading?”
The article turned out to be an excruciatingly technical document he was reviewing, which she supposed was the point. She tried to ask questions at first, but soon gave up and let him drone on by himself.
He kept it up all the way home. As soon as the door shut behind them, he said, “I didn’t think I’d make it,” and pulled her into a passionate kiss. “You really didn’t know?”
“I swear.” She thought about it. “Does that make it better or worse?”
“I don’t even know. I have no idea how you work sometimes. You had boyfriends before we got married.”
“I never lived with any of them.”
“Does that make it easier?”
“Well, there wasn’t the same problem of deciding when to have sex, right?” She shrugged. “I just fucked them when they came over.”
“Good grief.”
“I mean, I don’t want you to think I was putting out all the time. I’d say no if we didn’t have time or something. And it helped that I seem to attract shy boys.” She smiled and tugged at his shirt.
“I’ll show you shy.” He kissed her again, then reached into her coat. She could feel the urgency of his need against her belly. “Or do we ‘not have time’?” he asked.
She unbuckled his belt. “We have time.” She slipped his shorts down and his cock popped right up into her hand.
They had no lube, she realized, and she wasn’t wet enough yet.
She remembered the adoration on his face as she scraped his back bloody. She remembered him begging for more. It didn’t seem unfair to return the favor.
He was pushing her pants down, hunger clear in every line of his body.
She hadn’t meant to tease him that hard. Sure, he liked a little bit of the hard-to-get, but not weeks of jacking off into the toilet.
It wouldn’t hurt that much, she decided, and guided him into her.
He tried to take it slow. She put her hands around his waist, and, biting back a grunt, forced herself onto him. He groaned and thrust more eagerly.
He routinely squatted multiples of her body weight. Now he effortlessly lifted her onto her toes with every thrust. Her feet skittered across the floor, tractionless despite her sneakers’ rubber soles. He caught her and steered her to the wall.
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