My Tired Girl

She was sprawled on the couch as though she had collapsed with her final burst of energy for the day, head resting on the worn, slightly dusty throw pillow, hair splayed out haphazardly. I gazed at her, as I do every day, wishing I could take away some of her stress. Her job was physically demanding, as would be all her jobs until she could get through school. Tonight was the beginning of her weekend, and she wanted to stay up as late as possible to celebrate the fact that she could sleep in tomorrow, but I could tell by her drooping eyelids that she would soon be dead to the world.

At my insistence, she eventually unfolded herself from the couch and I led her upstairs to bed. She collapsed, sitting on the mattress, grunting with the effort of it all, and pulled a book off the nightstand, determined to stave off unconsciousness for just a bit longer. Flipping idly through the pages, she pretended to ignore me as I sat on the edge of the bed, picked up her left foot and began pushing my fingertips and thumbs into the soft flesh in a gentle massage.

After a few moments on the single foot, I reached up and wordlessly pushed her back onto the bed. She allowed herself to fall backward, still holding onto the book, but whether she was actually reading I couldn't tell. I crept up her legs and gently thumbed the button of her jeans, eventually unclasping it then lowering the zipper. She slightly raised her hips to aide in the garment's removal, but other than this small gesture she gave no reaction to my ministrations.

Her empty jeans, still warm from her body heat, crumpled to the floor in a rapidly cooling heap, her keys falling out of the pocket and jangling briefly before deadening on the carpet. I took a quiet moment and absorbed the sight of her body, my eyes an insatiable sponge. Her cream-colored panties fit perfectly on her hips, the area below her navel lay completely flat, faint wisps of nearly invisible blonde hair on her smooth belly. My eyes ran down her legs, taking in the soft, flawless skin and gentle contours of muscle... despite my best efforts she had never understood how beautiful she was, but damned if I will ever stop trying.

I resumed the foot rub, kneading gently, working up her ankle to her calf, paying attention to each individual muscle, feeling the tension of her day flowing out of her. Upward from her calf to her knee, thigh, all the way to her hip; my eyes brushed over her covered pussy, staring hungrily at the delicate skin between her thighs giving way to the thick hem of her panties, trying to use my insistent gaze as a wedge to uncover the hidden flesh. After a moment of longing frustration, I set down her left leg and turned my attention to her right foot, beginning the process anew, prodding, poking, rubbing, kneading.

She idly flipped a page as my thumbs hooked into the waistband of her panties and peeled them slowly down her hips. She again lifted herself off the bed, almost reflexively, and I slid the material down her legs and off her feet, dropping them on the floor next to her jeans. I ran my hands up and down her thighs for a few moments, taking in her scent, admiring the delicate folds of her perfect pussy, the lips already pouting. Placing my hands under her knees, I lifted and spread her legs while lowering my head to her center, kissing her full on her cunt. I opened my mouth and ran my tongue through her, giving her clit a quick swipe, eliciting from her a quiet gasp.

She finally put her book down on the bed, still open to save her place, and looked at me wryly, eyes sparkling with the beginnings of her arousal.

"Could you um, get the lights?" she asked huskily, to which I grinned. She was a little prudish and didn't like me watching while she came. I didn't mind; I knew I would be able to feel her squirming under my tongue, and that was good enough for me.

I stood up quickly and extinguished the lights, feeling my way through the sudden darkness back to the bed and my home between her legs. Leaning in, I entwined my arms under her thighs and let my hands wander her stomach while I took my time exploring her pussy with my lips, nibbling up one side, then gently grabbing the labia with my teeth, pulling her apart, then repeating on the other side.

After all the attention to her lips, I started licking around her clit, padding my tongue against its hood. I pulled back and blew gently on her, and she shivered, moaning slightly. I grinned and began with renewed fervor licking, sucking, nibbling, every few minutes pulling back and lying my head on her thigh, enjoying the closeness and her obvious pleasure.

I stuck a finger in my mouth, coating it, then ran it through her pussy lips, briefly rubbing her clit. Her hips jerked involuntarily, and she made a slight mewing noise. I leaned in and licked her clit while sliding the finger inside her, feeling around for the rough patch of her g-spot. Rubbing it gently, I worked my tongue slowly back and forth over her clit, feeling the little nub bounce to and fro, listening to her breathing become slightly heavier.

As I licked and sucked her pussy, her hips began to gyrate, and we fell into the age-old rhythm. My finger was brushing her g-spot, my tongue circling her clit, my other hand lightly scratching meaningless patterns onto the flesh of her stomach.

A sudden intake of breath and she jumped back a few centimeters, removing my mouth from her pussy. I grinned as she shook, her walls clamping on my finger, and her breath shuddered. A gentle but insistent heel on my shoulder blade told me my work was not done, and I was drawn back to her pussy, pulling out as much pleasure as possible with my tongue. Her hands slapped to the covers at her sides, balling them into her fists, and she bit her lip as she arched her back, her breath still coming in ragged gasps. I sighed contentedly as she slowly came, gently probing her clit with my tongue each time her shaking showed signs of abating, each time her back arched and slowly settled, until she unwrapped a hand from the covers and placed it on my forehead, a quiet sign of her being too sensitive to come any more.

With one last lap I withdrew my fingers and sat up, wiping her juices from my face, flashing her a grin she couldn't see in the darkness. I heard her sigh contentedly, then mutter words of appreciation as she rolled over, already half-asleep. My poor, exhausted, beautiful wife...

Maybe because I made her come so hard she won't make me clean the garage tomorrow.

****

This is my first attempt at any sort of story, erotic or otherwise. Please leave some feedback, tell me what's weak, what's strong, what you liked, what you hated. All polite criticism is welcome.