tagErotic CouplingsEven Marriage Can Be Erotic

Even Marriage Can Be Erotic

byDana Gallagher©

James woke up one day with a hard on. This was not an unusual state of awakening for James, since he usually suffered from a piss hard on first thing in the morning. This time the normal pee stiffness was kept hard with an extreme level of horniness. He had just had the most erotic dream of his life time, one might even call it a wet dream, but, since his manhood was still standing at attention, there must not have been much 'wet' to the dream.

He had dreamt about his wife, of all things, but this dream was about when they were young teenagers. Well, they weren't exactly teenagers, as he was twenty-four to her eighteen, but they were desperately in love and highly sexual. At that point in their lives they hadn't had any children and both had fit and toned bodies, and they used every part of their bodies when they were together. In his dream he had relived a wonderful night with his now wife, from years ago.

There was a remembered kiss from his dream; her kisses had a power to just turn him on so much, an instant hard on. Of course, it didn't take much to turn him on, because a breeze suddenly changing directions could give him a hard on. Once, while they were dating and he was working at the sawmill, he had suddenly caught the scent of vanilla, the same smell of her perfume. Well, that was enough to send the blood down south. He was standing there in his Carhartt work overalls with a tent that was extremely obvious, and his co-worker Bill had noticed and playfully asked who he was thinking about, although Bill knew exactly who he was thinking about since he hadn't shut up talking about Rachel since the moment he'd met her.

In his dream he had seen Rachel on top of him, her curly blonde hair sticking damp from sweat to her face, her eyes a glaze of green passion, her breasts, though small and pert, bouncing with her movements as she rode his hard cock. He could remember the dream as if it had just happened, even the feelings of how much he loved her and how she was the best thing that had ever happened to him in quite a long time. He remembered how in the dream he ran his hands over her body, first her breasts, and then down to her firm flat tummy. He could almost even hear the moans of passion as her orgasm crashed down on her and shook her from head to toe.

Finally, James pulled himself from sleep and the remembered dream and came crashing back to reality as he heard the cartoons blaring from the living room and his two daughters fighting over a toy or something as absurd. Then he heard his son crying and the sounds of his wife singing to him along with the squeaks of the rocking chair as she tried to soothe his baby nightmares. Unwillingly he opened his eyes; only the light filtered by the window blinds lighted the darkened room. The décor of the bedroom came into his sight, at first fuzzy, then it became more clear. His wife had decorated their room with an Indian flair, that is India-Indian, not Native American Indian.

Rachel was your average Caucasian with a mixture of German, French, Scottish, and Irish, but she had a passion for anything Celtic and Indian. Their living room was done with the Celtic décor, but the India style was saved for the bedroom. His eyes met the drapes she had created out of authentic sari fabric, and then he saw the pictures on the wall of the Krishna. He turned and looked at her side of the room where she had two shelves, one with a stone statue of the goddess of female strength, and the other with the goddess of wealth.

Finally he sat up and pulled the bedspread off, an item he bought her for her birthday. It was an authentically Indian made bedspread that had designs of reds and gold, with little mirrors in the center of each. He loved to tease her about her flare to interior designing, but really it was pretty cool, even if they weren't Hindu and didn't come directly from the emerald isles.

As he sat on the edge of the bed he looked between his legs and saw that his manhood continued to make a tent in his jockey shorts. He would have to put on his robe to make sure that any passing by child didn't see the spectacle their father was making.

He got up and grabbed his robe and, just as he got it tied, the bedroom door opened. Rachel walked into the room and when she did she saw her husband standing there and smiled her brightest smile, a smile that could lighten the heart and speed up the libido all at the same time.

"You're up! I thought you were going to sleep all through Saturday," said Rachel with ornery look that consisted of a grin and a cocked eyebrow.

"I would have, but my bladder told me I couldn't," said James.

"Well, it's good to see you back in the land of the living. I'm doing some laundry, do you have any jeans to add?"

"Yeah, here are some," said James as he picked up the jeans that he'd left in a pile on the floor before falling asleep the night before.

With that Rachel flipped on the overhead light, completely blinding James, his hand reached up to cover his still sleep clouded eyes.

"Oh sorry," said Rachel, but still with the ornery look on her face.

Rachel walked to James and grabbed the dirty jeans and leaned in and quickly gave her husband a good morning kiss. It was a simple kiss, no open mouth and no tongue, but it was enough to make James' hard on start to throb. Luckily, because of the robe, she wasn't aware of his current condition. When she kissed him he inhaled her scent and smelled vanilla, a scent she rarely wore these days.

"You're wearing your vanilla perfume," said James his throbbing hard on beginning to become painful.

"Yeah, I guess I was just in a vanilla mood today. I splashed some on after my shower. Speaking of showers, you better get in, 'cause we gotta go grocery shopping today."

With that Rachel turned and was out of the bedroom.

'Ahhh, shopping, the great adventure,' thought James.

Mostly their shopping adventures consisted of Rachel going up and down each aisle with her organized list of required items, and James placing in the cart whatever looked good, with the girls complaining in unison about being hungry or thirsty and the baby boy getting upset because he couldn't properly drink his bottle in the shopping cart seat. Usually both parents came home exhausted, only to remember they still had to unload the car full of groceries. James was depressed at this thought because it meant they wouldn't have the energy to enjoy a little one on one time later, and he was surely more in the mood to be alone with his wife than to go out and shop, no matter if they needed the food or not.

Reluctantly, he decided he should get ready to go. He left the bedroom and passed by the baby's room and saw him playing with his toys on the floor with the baby gate keeping him captive in his baby safe room. When little James Jr. saw his daddy at the door he smiled his drooling smile that was so like his mother's smile, but without the drool, and held up his plastic pick up truck with a look of pure childhood happiness. James waved at his son and Jr. went back to his happy play. He peered into the living room to see his two daughters, so close in age they looked almost liked twins. They were watching television, so into their cartoons that they didn't even notice their father in the doorway.

"Aren't you girls going to say hi to your dad?"

The girls turned, little exact copies of their mother, but one with blonde hair and blue eyes and the other with brown hair and brown eyes.

"Hi daddy!" both girls said in unison, then turned back to their most interesting cartoons.

James shook his head and wondered to himself if twins could actually be born a year and a half apart without the help of modern medicine.

He got to the bathroom and with a whispered prayer, he hoped his hard on would release after he was able to relieve his bladder. Peeing with a hard on is an interesting technique that over the years of his life he had only partially mastered. He stood at the toilet with his legs splayed apart and pointed his hard member in the direction of the toilet. Luckily his aim was true and he made it into the toilet. Finally, completely drained, he hoped now his hard on would soften, but as he prepared for his shower his member remained upright. He decided he better turn on the cold water for this shower.

The cold spray stung his backside and sent shivers down his spine, but yet his arousal stayed hard and strong. He attempted to concentrate on washing and on the upcoming shopping adventure, but unfortunately his mind kept wandering. Rachel, of course, wasn't the same as she was when they had been dating, but still he found her possibly even more beautiful now. The blonde hair of her teen years had come from a bottle, but now she had it her natural light brown, occasionally putting blonde streaks whenever, as she said, "I got a bug up my butt to do something different."

Rachel was always coming up with her unique sayings. He brought up a memory that hit him with a little pang of regret. They hadn't been married very long and were driving around town one day. She had been in kind of a silly mood and one off her unique sayings had popped out of her mouth. James couldn't remember what her expression had been, but he definitely remembered that he'd replied to it a bit harshly, saying something to the effect that she was super weird, but with a bit more sting. He hadn't realized how his words could hurt until that moment. She had turned toward him with her emerald eyes glassy from the tears filling up in them.

"Jamison William Mason," she said always calling him by his full name when she was rather perturbed. "If I can't be myself around you then who should I be? I am a mixture of everything; I can be serious when the moment calls for it, sexy when I feel like it, but mostly silly and a bit goofy. That's what makes me, who I am and whom you married. If you wanted a straight man in your little comedy duo, then you should've married the stiff as a board, no sense of humor, boring as all hell types."

It had stunned him how his words had hit her. Then a realization suddenly struck him that he was usually pretty goofy himself, sometimes annoyingly so, and she always regarded him with her wonderful smile or her great laugh. Did he really want to be the only one with a sense of humor in this marriage? His answer was "no", and he couldn't figure for the life of him why he'd responded so negatively. He had grabbed her hand and looking into her eyes, fearing that a tear would actually fall and he would be the blame for it.

"I'm sorry. I love every part of you, even your natural high goofy attitude. I guess I was feeling a little down in the dumps and I suppose I wanted everyone to feel the same way," he said with an honest look of regret.

From that day on he never took out his wavering mood swings on her. The truth of the matter was he loved her always and forever. She wasn't like she had been as a teen. Motherhood had taken it's toll on her body, but in his opinion she was more exotic now because age had taught her how to use her femininity in a certain manner that could just turn his head and raise his libido. To him, age, along with experience, was much better than the perfect young body and innocence.

His thoughts reverted back to when Rachel had walked into the bedroom. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts that enhanced her long legs. Also, she had on a pink v-neck tee shirt, and was wearing no bra. If he looked hard enough he believed he could make out the outline of her dusky, mauve nipples. She had recently stopped wearing a bra, with the exception of family events and such. When he had asked her about this change, she gave him her version of things.

"Mostly the reason women wear a bra is to impress men. Well, whom am I trying to impress, since I'm married and I'm sure you don't care whether or not I wear a bra. Plus, a bra is built to support, and my boobs aren't big, so what am I trying to support? So, what is the point of wearing something that is uncomfortable that I have to spend way too much money on and never fits right anyway?" she said, in her most logical sounding voice.

The facts as she had laid them out sounded fairly reasonable. Plus, he so enjoyed her without a bra. In a light colored shirt her nipples showed perfectly. Also, it gave him easy access to tease her whenever he wished. It was so marvelous when he caused her nipples to stand erect with a simple accidental brush, since they were really sensitive. Then there was the fact of when she went all day with the shirt rubbing against the nipples, and they'd get into sex (when they had the time), just teasing those wonderful buds could makes her climb the walls.

He had to admit that when he'd caught a few guys staring at her chest when they were in public and she was sans bra, it had pissed him off a little. Then he would think to himself, 'Na, na, na, this wonderful erotic woman with perfect small breasts and oh so sensitive nipples was all his.' What a wonderful thought that was!

Of course, these thoughts were doing nothing to help his hardness shrink back down and neither was the cold water. If anything, his thoughts were making him achingly harder. Unfortunately, he could not escape these thoughts. He'd woken up this way and he just wouldn't be able to turn it off without a wonderful, massive cum.

Rachel would not exit his mind, which was a good thing, since most men at this point in their marriage would be thinking about a supermodel or some porno queen. Instead, his wife took up all of his thoughts. Of course, he did like the occasional porno or mag, but he wasn't obsessed with these things since these couldn't turn him on like his totally sensual, flesh and blood next to his side, wife. He couldn't help but think that her nipples weren't the only amazing thing about her; there were also her orgasms. He was blessed with a wife that was not only multi-orgasmic, but she also had the ability to ejaculate, and when she came it was like a dam breaking gush or, rather, a mattress soaking.

He loved the fact that he'd been responsible for finding these hidden treasures. Her previous teenage rebellious boyfriends hadn't even been able to give her one orgasm, much less many, as he did on a regular basis. This, of course, made him have a big head in more ways than one. He so loved watching her squirm with her life-altering, mind numbing orgasms. Then there was the ejaculation. When her pussy released that glorious nectar it was enough to cause him to cum, even when nothing was happening to his cock. He loved her aroma of arousal, and the taste of her cum was like of a delicacy of culinary delights.

He loved the feeling of her cum washing his hand as his fingers jigged her to ecstasy. He loved having his face washed in her juices when it was buried in her pussy, licking her into orgasmic oblivion. And also he loved being inside of her hot, wet pussy and the feeling of her massive orgasms from the inside, with her juices pouring out all around his cock and drenching his lap. Hell, he loved it all, but, most of all, he loved her.

Finally, returning to reality and finished showering, he turned off the water and grabbed a towel and began drying off. He looked down at his hard member, the eye on the head staring at him as if to say "I'm not going down until I get what we want and you know what we want." Yeah, of course he knew what he wanted; he wanted Rachel.

A passing thought of masturbation slipped into his mind, but he knew that would do no good in his current condition. No, he needed Rachel, to feel her soft hand wrapped and stroking, to feel her lips torturing him to something that was what heaven should be like, or to feel her wet, hot pussy enveloping him and constricting as a massive orgasmic wave crashed through her. That's what he needed.

He tried to form a plan of attack to get his wife alone and be able to fuck her madly. He wrapped the towel around his waist, but seeing that his erection was trying to push out, grabbed his robe in an effort to hide it better.

He walked out of the bathroom and was surprised to find the house quieted, without the noises of children. He looked down the hall and the doors to the children's rooms were closed. Silently he walked to the girls' room and found both of them napping in their beds. Then he walked to the baby's room and saw him lying in his crib on his stomach with his diapered butt raised in the air. Shutting the door, he grinned at the strange sleeping habits of children.

He didn't have to wonder where Rachel was, since he could hear the sounds of the washer filling and the radio in the laundry room that she left tuned to her favorite station KISS 92.1, the station of the mega hits.

Quietly, he walked through the kitchen and into the laundry room. Rachel was standing at the washer, sorting a basket of clothes and looking for stains to spray the stain remover on. She noticed him walking into the laundry room, but quickly reverted her attention back toward the dirty clothes.

"Oh hey, you're out of the shower," she said. "Well, if you are looking for clean jockeys there are some over there on the loveseat."

James looked at the loveseat that they'd moved in there so Rachel would have a place to sit and fold laundry and there was, indeed, a folded pile of his jockey shorts.

"No, I wasn't looking for shorts, I was looking for you." He said with what he hoped was a sexy tone to his voice.

"Oh, well you've got some time before we gotta go shopping 'cause the kids got cranky, so I put them all down for a nap." She said.

James took off the robe and towel before she noticed, throwing them on a basket of clothes and quietly stepped behind her.

"I was kind of hoping that we would have some time together."

"Well, isn't that nice." Said Rachel, as she turned and noticed the towel and robe lying on her basket of clean clothes. "Oh, I see how you are. I'm busy doing all the laundry and there you go just throwing your robe and towel anywhere you wish."

"Oh, I'll pick them up after we are done."

"Done doing what?"

At that moment James came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his hardness into her buttocks.

"Oh, so that's what we are doing! Did someone wake up ornery today?"

"Well, I'd say it was horny rather than ornery."

At that time James ran his hands up from her waist, up her torso until he got to her chest. Then he made tents out of each hand and caressed upwards, running his fingertips over her breast tissue and then lightly pinching the slightly enlarged nipples.

"Oh, that feels so nice," said Rachel pressing her body back into his. "Well, if you want to have sex, why don't we go back to the bedroom?"

"I don't think I have the strength or the willpower to go all the way back there. I want you right here and now."

"Well, I certainly won't argue with that!"

"Are you done with this load of laundry?"

"Ah yes, I just got a few more items to throw in."

"Well, go ahead and let it start to agitate."

Rachel threw the rest of the clothes in without even checking for stains and closed the washer lid and let it begin to agitate. Then she turned toward him.

James began kissing on the side of her neck and teasing her earlobe with his tongue. His hands continued to play with her perky breasts, massaging and kneading the tissue and running his fingertips over the hard little buds. She moaned out and a little shiver quaked though her body.

"You love it when I play with your nipples, don't you?" asked James.

"Dear, I love everything you do to me, but right now my clit is throbbing for your fingers to rub me," pleaded Rachel.

James's cock jumped at her words. His dominate right hand left her breast and went down to the fly of her shorts. Deftly he unfastened the fly and was soon in the waist of the shorts, running his fingers over her panties. He felt satin and lace instead of the normal cotton high cut briefs.

Report Story

byDana Gallagher© 2 comments/ 25137 views/ 6 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

Next
2 Pages:12

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar:

   Cancel