17 #2
When we were done, she grabbed the dishes from the table to load them into the dishwasher.
When she bent over to put the plates on the bottom rack, I noticed the tight little shorts she was wearing.
It took me a minute to realize I was actually checking out my wife.
That shouldn’t have been weird, but I hadn’t done that in a while.
She stood up going about putting lids on all the remaining toppings and putting them in the fridge. After the cleanup was complete, she pulled out two bottles of beer from the fridge, nodding for me to follow her.
I followed her into the living room as she plopped onto our big sofa that we never used unless we had company.
She popped the caps off the beers, set them on the table, and grabbed the remote to turn on the TV.
It was like living in a parallel universe because this was like we were back to what we were before we’d gotten married.
Maybe that was where we’d gone wrong.
Whitney pulled up a streaming app, picking a movie as I sank into the couch cushions next to her.
I picked up the second bottle of beer, taking a sip as she settled on a romantic comedy she hadn’t seen yet.
The genre wasn’t my favorite since I often found the storylines repetitively predictable, but I could see why someone would like something like that.
We settled in as the opening credits started to roll. It was nice. Too nice. Like I’d missed spending time with her like this. We could maybe get back to the simplicity of our friendship.
The mood shifted as things between the couple in the movie heated up.
The heroine was standing in the shower with her clothes on while the hero stood across the bathroom watching her.
As the woman started taking off each article of clothing, the man moved, inching closer to her with every slow, purposeful step.
I jumped when Whitney’s hand landed on my thigh, kneading the muscle there. She didn’t push further than that, just left her hand there, but it was enough to deliver the message that she was interested.
As the couple on screen started to make out under the spray of the shower and more clothes came off, things shifted with Whitney once more. Her hand slid higher and, to my shock, I was getting hard. Maybe it was the couple on screen—the movie was becoming borderline pornographic.
“Isn’t this sort of hot?” Whitney’s breath was hot against my ear. It turned into a bucket of ice that snapped me out of the moment..
Shit. This was bad. Why the hell did I hate the idea of sleeping with my wife so much?
Friction was friction. When Whitney slipped her hand between my legs, palming my hardening cock, it was impossible to shove her off me. Was it fucked up that I wasn’t pushing her away? I didn’t want to ruin the good mood she’d been in that day. Everything I did was for her.
I heard the sound of my jeans unzipping, her hand sliding inside.
Delicate fingers wrapped around my cock.
It felt good, too good. To say anything else would be a lie.
Any guy will agree that the sensation of a hand on your dick is nothing to say no to, but Whitney wasn’t being gentle.
The woman had a single-minded determination—her breath blew heavy against my neck.
“Fuck me, Orion. I need to feel you inside of me.”
And even though it was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, all I did was nod.
Whitney didn’t waste any time. She pulled her hand out of my pants, lifting her shirt over her head.
She wasn’t wearing a bra so her full tits swung in my face.
They’d always been one of my favorite things about her because they were the perfect size for me.
I could hold them in my hands, squeeze them together, rub my face between them.
It was a move Whitney was often a fan of.
She descended on me, kissing me with so much passion that I forgot that just minutes ago I wasn’t into this. Her hips swiveling against me, providing friction to my cock again, had me gasping into her mouth.
What was missing was the answering hardness. She was all smooth. I wanted to feel the hard press of another man’s cock grinding against mine like I had when I kissed Sable.
My thoughts derailed when Whitney lifted off my lap to take my pants off, pulling the rest of her clothes off. She’d always been a gorgeous woman. I’d been attracted to her for a reason, but sometimes I needed a reminder.
She climbed back onto my lap, straddling my hips as she lined me up with her cunt. She was so damn wet and warm that it made my eyes roll back as she sank down around me.
The moment she started rocking on my lap, all other thoughts flew out the window. Whitney felt so damn good as she fucked herself on my cock. Her hands rested on my shoulders as she lifted herself again and again.
It didn’t take long as Whitney swiveled her hips just right, causing the ridges of her inner walls to rub me in just the right way.
I came, shoving my face into her shoulder as I tried not to cry out because that’s how sex between us had always been.
Even though we switched things up like this from time to time, we were always quiet.