Taking Charge Pt. 03

"Did you get what you wanted?" I asked, loosening his tie and lifting it off to drop it with his jacket.

"Sorry?"

He'd come home late because he'd had to attend an executive dinner meeting. He'd told me in the past that he always attended because it was his best chance to grab hold of new accounts. Ryan was pushing to be a power player at his firm.

"At your meeting," I said, pulling his shirt out of his pants and sliding my hands up his chest. His tiny nipples stiffened under my palms and he took a quiet but sharp breath. I brushed my hands over his shoulders, pushing his shirt off and down his arms. His hands tightened around my waist as I caressed his soft skin. I couldn't get his shirt off though, since he was holding me and I didn't want him to let go, so I worked at his belt and trousers. His hands slid just a little bit further down my sides and his fingertips began playing with the top of my panties at my hips, sliding under them and feeling the lace.

"Don't you always get what you want?" I asked, pushing my hands under his pants and boxer shorts, framing the cut V of his groin, smoothing them down his thighs and pushing the rest of his clothes off. His flaccid penis wobbled from side to side a bit, but I noted, with no small amount of hope, that he was getting longer and thicker.

Ryan grinned and blushed. "Yes. I do."

I raised an eyebrow and turned his back to the reading chair, then shoved his shoulders. Ryan tumbled back into the chair with a surprised expression. "That's good to know."

He raised an eyebrow back at me and pulled his shirt the rest of the way off. "What's with you tonight?" He was curious, not accusatory, but right on that edge of 'seriously, what's with you', and not in a playful sense.

I dialed my seduction back a bit. Maybe I just wasn't very good at this, or maybe I was pushing too hard, laying it on too thick.

Kneeling in front of him, I shrugged. "Nothing. Just getting you ready for bed."

I took his shoes and socks off and spread his legs while doing so, leaving him completely naked, then I straightened up on my knees and shuffled forward. His balls with their light dusting of hair were resting on the chair, and his partially erect penis was laying over his thigh, but as I moved closer between his spread legs, his penis twitched and slid an inch or so towards his stomach, and it began to rise. It was like watching a clock slowly tick down to magic hour.

"You do want to go to bed, don't you?" I huskily breathed.

He nodded, watching me shuffle even closer, the lace-encased sides of my breasts brushing against his legs, my hands sliding up his thighs and to his lower abdomen. He wasn't ripped like Jake, but he had muscle under that soft skin. I could feel it, just beneath the surface. Ryan was just one of those guys that required perfectly controlled lighting for you to be able to really see and appreciate just how fit he was.

I curled my fingers against his abs, lightly scratching his skin, and his penis hardened even more. It stood up and leaned to the left in a subtle curve. I should point out that Ryan is actually fairly well endowed. As I said before, he's long enough to fill both of my hands when stacked one atop the other, and he's plenty wide, my fingers just able to touch when I hold him. I'm no stranger to female-friendly pornography, so I've seen the penises of other men. Ryan's was, shall I say, unique.

His tip was more round than pointed and just a little wider than his shaft. It was also a bright pink color. He was circumcised, but he had more foreskin to play with than most men. It was one of the things I really liked about his penis, that I could slide his skin up and down his smooth shaft a bit, that I could play with him without lubrication being a requirement.

So that's what I did. I knelt between my husband's spread legs and wrapped my hand around his shaft while rubbing and scratching his stomach.

"I missed you today," I whispered, letting my breath caress his shaft and tip.

He shivered and his hands clenched tight onto the armrests of the chair.

Ryan never got fully erect, not once since the day we had met. It was just a quirk of his body, I guess, but right then, he was as hard as he would get, which was hard enough to fill me up (that had never been a problem). With a soft sigh, I laid my head on his thigh and slowly stroked his member, taking him in with my gaze, his spongy shaft and pink tip, his balls with their light dusting of hair. I'd taken a big risk by being this forward. I couldn't believe he was letting me do this.

The only light in the room was coming from the bathroom. That had been intentional, since Ryan refused to have sex in anything but a near pitch-black room. We had blackout curtains for that very reason, otherwise daytime sex would be right out. He didn't like fooling around in the light either. Early in our marriage, I'd worried that maybe he didn't really find me attractive, that he could only have sex with me if he couldn't see me. Later, I came to suspect that Ryan had body image issues, but he was evasive whenever I tried to talk to him about it. He wasn't comfortable with how he looked, so he didn't want me to see him in full detail when he was nude.

It was a running gag that he claimed to be a never-nude, his way of coping with it, I suppose.

But tonight, I had planned out the seduction of my husband. I had situated the chair in just such a way that the light from the bathroom would illuminate me and his lower body, but leave his upper body in the dark. It was a test, to see how far he would let me go. The thing is, I loved looking at my husband. Sure, the mere sight of his body didn't ignite a blazing inferno inside me like Jake's did, but Ryan is very attractive. I really did enjoy his body. He just rarely let me explore it. I wanted to explore him that night.

So, kneeling between his legs with my cheek on his thigh and my hand around his cock and the other cupping his tight scrotum, I gently increased my grip on his shaft and spoke breathily, "I missed this too."

Ryan made a sound that was a cross between a gasp and an amused snort. It was both arousing and funny, so I gave a breathy sigh of laughter.

"Did you?" he asked, finally reaching out to touch me. It was just his fingers in my hair, but it was something.

I nodded and let my breath wash over his balls and the base of his shaft. "Very much."

His hand slid under my cheek to cup it and lift my face. I looked up at him, and while I couldn't see him, just a shadowy outline, really, I knew he was gazing at me. "How much?"

Pushing up straight, I got as close to him as I could between his legs, put my hands on his hips, and laid my upper body over his groin. I hugged his body and his warm length pressed between the soft valley of my breasts, and I felt it throb there. "Very much."

I wished I'd had the forethought to take off the bra, so that I could feel that much more of him, and so that the underwire wouldn't hurt him, but Ryan was ahead of me. He leaned forward to release the clasp of my bra. I smiled with delight, so glad that he was taking the initiative. I rose up just enough for him to take off my bra, but not enough for him to see my breasts, then lay back down and surrounded his penis with the soft warm valley of my bosom. Even more pleasing was when Ryan put his hands on my shoulders and thrust his hips up, shoving the length of his spongy member deeper into my cleavage and rubbing it against my breastbone.

"God," he whispered.

I reached up to lightly scratch my nails down his chest and he smoothed his hands over my upper back. He began to thrust, slow but insistent, rubbing his penis against my breasts and chest. I rubbed his tight pectoral muscles and teased his nipples, turning my head to plant soft kisses all over his lower chest. My hands were never idle. I rubbed and caressed every part of him that I could reach, at one point grasping his hips and pulling him even tighter to my ample chest.

"Becca," he breathed, and to me, it sounded like a plea.

I felt so beautiful, so desired, my nipples hard, breasts swollen and panties more than damp. I was ready to give him anything he wanted.

Dragging my breasts down his body, delighting in the feel of my engorged nipples scraping against his skin, I kissed down his stomach, down the V of his groin. His warm shaft brushed against my cheek as my lips pressed to the skin where his thigh met his groin, and while his musky scent was rather potent from such a long day at work, I didn't care. I licked at his balls and base of his shaft. He groaned out loud, grabbed my shoulders.

Then he pushed me away.

I was absolutely shocked.

"What's wrong?"

"I haven't showered." He was still in shadow, so I couldn't see him.

"Oh, baby. I don't care," I murmured, squeezing his thighs and leaning down to kiss his shaft, hoping to revive it, since it had begun to flag.

He grabbed my upper arms, firmly, and pushed me back again, but this time, he leaned forward too. His face came into the light, and he was angry, at me. "I care," he snapped, and in one quick move, he pushed me away. I lost my balance and fell on my butt. Ryan got up from the chair and disappeared into the bathroom, slamming the door.

I sat there on the carpet with my hands behind me, holding myself up, wondering how my seduction of him had gone so wrong. Struggling to hold back tears. I'd showered, shaved, and coated my body with lightly scented moisturizer to make it as soft as possible. I'd worn my new sexy lingerie. I'd worshiped his body with my mouth and hands, even my breasts.

And he'd pushed me away.

I'd given myself to him, served myself up on a silver platter to do with as he wished. I'd licked his balls and penis, and he'd pushed me away.

What kind of man would do that?

Suddenly, I was no longer sad. I was angry.

With a loud huff, I grabbed my silk robe and shoved my arms into it, stomping out of the bedroom. I went to the kitchen, absolutely seething, and opened a bottle of red wine. I filled a huge goblet and gulped a third of the wine down. It burned, and I hadn't given it time to breathe, so it didn't taste very good either, but I didn't care. I emptied the glass into my stomach and refilled it, then took it and the bottle to the couch.

I laid there and drank the entire bottle, trying to ignore the silence from our room, knowing that Ryan had gone to bed. Right then, I wanted nothing more than to stomp in there and bite his goddamn head off. He refused to fight at night, and always had, so it didn't matter that I wanted to confront him. He would simply give me the silent treatment, and if I pushed hard enough and long enough for a fight, he would leave to sleep on the couch. One time, he even left the house to stay at a hotel. (I don't remember what the fight was about).

I was so mad that I was almost crying with rage. I'd put myself out there, just like Jake had said I should, and I'd been rejected. All I wanted was for my husband to take me like a man takes a woman, like Jake took his girls. Sure didn't seem like too much to ask.