I had been staring at the ceiling for a couple of minutes from my spread position on our living room floor, when the clatter of plates and cutlery brought me back to the present. I felt tired and hungry, and the smell of food wasn’t helping.
“Dinner’s ready in 5” she shouted from the kitchen, no doubt indicating my need to clean up before eating. I helped myself to my feet and proceeded to pick up my bag and my clothes on my way upstairs, only to find that she had discarded hers. This is nothing new, as she prefers to stay in a state of undress, especially while cooking. I collected her items too and threw them on our bed before washing up in the bathroom and heading back down for dinner. One place was set, with a chilled bottle of my favourite cider waiting for me on a coaster, and a bottle opener next to it. I sat, and she served. She smiled at my reaction. She knows what I like.
“Dig in” she requests. I do.
“You have eaten already?” I enquire.
“Yes” she responded “I had a big lunch and wasn’t that hungry, so I made myself a salad.”
I didn’t expect to eat with her; she keeps herself busy and often eats before I reach home. It’s no secret that she likes her food, one of the things I’ve liked about her from the day we met.
She disappears into the living room as I tuck into the lamb chops she has cooked to perfection, and I start to hear music. She has put on one of her play-lists, not my thing, but I don’t mind it. When she’s in a good mood she likes to work to it. She likes to dance. She continues around the house about her business as I continue to enjoy my meal. The negative events of the day take a back seat to the positive musings of my current situation. Between bites I consider my weekend, our plans to “get away” for a day or two, and how lucky I am to have such a special woman in my life… something I often fail to share with her.
She returns to the kitchen with a skip in her step and gives me a smile as she passes and heads straight for the oven. She bends over at the waist to open it, giving me a view that’s more than stimulating, and a view of the red lines as a reminder of what had happened not an hour earlier. She gives a quiet expression of satisfaction before messing with knobs and moving purposefully around the kitchen.
She comes and sits with me and watches me finish my meal. I hate that. I hate being watched, eating, sleeping, anything, but that’s what she likes to do. I watch her watch me, her smile grows, and I let out a small, almost nervous laugh.
“What would you like with dessert?” she enquires.
“Do we have chocolate and strawberry ice cream?” I ask.
“Mhmm” she replies “a scoop of each?”
I nod in confirmation as I finish the last morsels on my plate. She takes the plate away and washes up as I take another swig at my bottle. Usual practice in this house, if she cooks, I wash up, it’s how I was brought up.
“Come and dry” she requests. I put my drink down and reluctantly make my way to the sink.
“I would have done it all later” I proclaim.
“I know” She responds, as she playfully splashes me with water “I just wanted it out of the way.”
As she finishes washing the last item, she dries her hands, steps behind me and throws her arms around me while I continue to dry. Before I put down the towel, her hands start to move south, into my baggy jeans, which quickly became very tight. I unbuckle my belt, which flies loose at the last step, and she eagerly moves in. By now she was already crouched down, and so manoeuvres herself between my legs and proceeds to take my now engorged member in her hand, only to run her tongue from the base to the tip. I gasp sharply. I then feel the moist warmth of her mouth over the entirety of my cock, and her lips seal around its base, and she slowly and deliberately draws back as her eyes fix on mine. She repeats this action a few times, working her tongue more and more each time. My breathing becomes shallow. She pauses and grips my penis firmly, and hungrily works her tongue around its head, leaving me weakened, needing to prop myself up on the kitchen sink. She knows what she’s doing, always has. I don’t know how much longer I can keep standing. That’s when things change. She puts her hands around me and holds on to my thighs as she greedily sucks at my throbbing dick, gradually increasing her pace and pressure until her tongue is a raging tornado of pleasure that I can no longer endure. I use my right hand on the sink to remain upright, while my left hand involuntarily grabs hold of the back of her head, something I hadn’t been comfortable doing, but which spurs her onward. She knows she has me on the ropes, and that what she’s doing is working. She continues until I am no longer able to hold back. She knows its coming. She holds on tightly as I quietly yell sounds no letters in the english language can spell, and I release hot jet after jet down her throat in fits and spasms. Without letting up, she slowly draws away and ravenously makes sure she devours every last drop, leaving no evidence of what has just occurred.
She checks her face on the oven door and smugly rises to her feet. She removes her homemade apple cobbler from the oven, creates six slices and removes two slices, placing them on two plates. She then takes three small tubs of ice cream out of the freezer, places 4 scoops of ice cream onto the plates, puts the tubs back, and brings the plates to the table, which she hops onto, then begins eating her dessert.
“Don’t you want any?” She nonchalantly asks me between bites as I start to regain my composure.
“Yeah,” I answered “Give me a second.” She giggles.
I pulled up my jeans, and made my way to the table, sat down and started to eat my dessert. I looked her up and down and enjoyed the view while eating. She ate silently, and I could hear her spoon moving slower than usual, which has always indicated to me that she is thinking. I waited for her to share her thoughts, but she didn’t say a word, so I asked her. “Nothing” she quietly replied, but her voice had a slightly mischievous tone to it. What was she up to?
I continued to enjoy my dessert, but she had done something different with it, which I could not place. She noticed my quizzical expression and slyly asked what was wrong? “I don’t know” I murmured. Then, just as I had taken my last spoonful, I’d noticed my lack of strawberry ice cream.
“You only gave me one scoop of chocolate!” I protested.
“Oh really?” she retorted. Then, with one swift movement, she spun ninety degrees and swung a leg over my head, spooned out a half melted ball of strawberry ice cream and dropped it on her chest. She pulled herself closer towards me, and I watched the melted ice cream rapidly run down her body. “See? There’s your other scoop.” She said cheekily. “Catch it while you can.”
I wasted no time. I pushed the chair out of the way and rushed to catch the rapidly descending drip with my tongue, licking my way up her body. There was no way I was going to get it all, so I went straight for the finish line. I pulled her right to the edge of the table, and buried my face right between her legs. She struggled momentarily to keep her balance, nut managed to support herself. I started to lick her lips upwards towards her clit, circling it many times before licking downwards and repeating the process, occasionally thrusting my tongue inside her. I love her taste, her sounds, her movements, the effect nibbling on her clit has. I decide to concentrate on her favourite area. I circle her clit for a while, and every now and then I’d flick my tongue across it, and up and down, and I’d hear her gasp sharply every time. Then, as she goes quiet, I’d notice her struggle to keep herself propped up. By now I’d gone for the kill. I’d lick at her clit like I was trying to finish a lollipop, and I’d hear her voice strain. I increase speed and pressure and grip her ass firmly, my nails digging in as I pull her closer to my eager mouth. I refuse to relent until I hear her satisfactory moans. Once again I hear her breathing quicken, the pitch of her moans get louder and higher, and as I increase the pace and pressure slightly, she begins to soak my face with her juices. Then suddenly, her body shudders, as though a quake had taken place inside her, and a tsunami was released upon me. This didn’t slow me down, it never does, but among her continued moans is the request for me to pull away, so I switch to kisses all the way up her body, and licking up any residual ice cream left upon her, before kissing and biting her neck and moving to her lips.
She smiles at me, and I smile back as I pick up the dirty plates and proceed to wash everything up. I then help her up off the table, slap her ass and send her upstairs to clean up, while I clean up the mess we’ve made on the table.
It’s early still, but it has been a long day, and an energetic evening… all I want to do now is sleep. So I step into the bathroom and give my wife a kiss goodnight and tell her I am going to bed. She checks the time, giggles, returns my goodnight kiss and disappears downstairs. I wash, brush my teeth, get undressed, and fall onto my bed, where I think about the day gone by, and my plans for the next day. And these are my last thoughts before falling asleep.
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