Better Advice, Better Marriage Ch. 02

Author's Note: You know that reading Chapter 1 will give you more background and help you understand this story better, don't you?

I tend to spend too much time on people's thoughts and motivations. Some people call this character development; some people call it boring. You were warned.

All characters engaged in sex acts are over the age of 18. All rights reserved.

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It is still dark in the room as Jon comes slowly awake, aware that someone else is in the room with him. Through slitted eyes he recognizes his wife, standing next to the double bed he is sleeping in. She has drawn the sheet that is his only covers back gently from his torso, exposing his naked hip as he slept on his side. This is what woke him, though he hasn't let on that he is conscious yet.

She pauses, waiting to see if he is awake.

What is she up to now? he wonders and regulates his breathing to a steady, even rhythm.

He still is still confused about what she wants from him, from their marriage. Hell, he is confused about what HE wants from their marriage. Despite the arguments that they have had over the last couple of years and the relationship strains around their sex life, the reality is that he still does love her and he wants to find a way to work on their marriage together.

The ridiculous rape accusation that Sue's marriage counselor, Mandy, put in with the police has rocked their world, however. At least the event seems to have jarred Sue into realizing just how extreme Mandy's views are and just how much following Mandy's advice has damaged their relationship. Sue SEEMS to be making true attempts to draw him into a conversation about their problems and making conciliatory overtures as it relates to their sex life. Maybe their relationship has been damaged, but maybe it isn't totally beyond hope. It will have to be different, certainly, but that doesn't mean that it can't still be good.

Okay, he thinks. If she wants to try to make this better through better sex, let's see where this leads.

Satisfied that he is actually still asleep, she crouches onto the edge of the guest room's double bed and bends down toward his exposed hip. He has always slept nude, even back in college. Her face is only a few feet from his groin, his limp, sleepy prick dangling from the profusion of wiry curls. She stifles a giggle as she considers its almost comical impotence in its flaccid state juxtaposed in her mind with the virile throbbing tower of masculinity she so recently enjoyed in this very room.

He gives off a male scent that stirs something within her -- a smell that is not pleasant in any traditional sense, but is arousing all the same. It is the smell of unwashed bodies, of work and sweat and, well, "man." It is a smell that, in polite company, a woman would insist be washed clear and replaced with more attractive cologne before a dignified evening out. But here in the quiet tranquility of the pre-dawn stillness, it touches her inner femininity -- the smell of her man.

What is she up to? he wonders again, Is she staring at my cock?

Understanding that she has precious little time before he wakes and she has to face the difficult process of explaining herself, she leans forward and gently wraps her lips lightly around the flaccid head of his member.

What the?! Jon is stunned. She is going to suck my dick! She rarely takes him in her mouth; it is too "demeaning."

She breathes him in, drawing his manhood between her lips and caressing the soft head with her tongue. The tender flesh fills her mouth pleasantly and she snuggles closer to his crotch, nuzzling her nose lightly into his pubic hair. Why don't I do this more often? she asks herself, enjoying the oral sensations of his meat in her mouth. My man's cock tastes good! She relishes in the naughty thought, the betrayal of everything that Mandy and she have discussed over the last few years -- thinking of herself as owing this pleasure to her husband, her responsibility , her duty as his wife.

But in her recent heart-to-heart discussion with Lynne, her friend had made so abundantly clear how much she owes her husband, how much she truly can enjoy with him, being his wife and deferring to his needs, how that doesn't really diminish who she is as a woman, despite what her militant feminist counselor may espouse. She got them into this mess by withholding sex until he met certain conditions, perhaps she can get them started back on the right track by making sex completely unconditional for him.

And she feels him stir in his sleep, his body responding to her, enjoying the sensations she is giving him. Mmm, she hums quietly, reveling in the taste of him, the maleness of him, her ability to please him whether he is conscious of it or not. Screw Mandy and her need to control and dominate all men! I like giving this pleasure to him. I like sucking cock. I like sucking his cock. Being his cocksucker.

I wonder if I can make him cum before he wakes up. Lynne says I have to swallow, that part of being the subservient wife that all men want is for me to suck him off and swallow his cum. Sue has never really developed a taste for cum, finding it really pretty gross, actually, but she is determined now to make it right. She feels guilty for the way she has treated Jon and their sex life and is determined to make it up to him. If that means learning to swallow cum, then she is committed to doing it. Millions of other women have learned to do it and I can too, she tells herself.

Shit, that feels great, Jon marvels. Maybe she really is serious about this desire to fix our sex life. Wouldn't that be fantastic? I just hope it isn't another one of the ballbusting tricks that Mandy has put her up to.

His cock is starting to swell in her mouth, the warm, wet confines engulfing his sensitive, drowsy member having the inevitable and fully expected response. The oh-so-intimate connection pleasing them both. Sue finds it remarkably arousing to feel the swelling as he fills her mouth. She even senses the tension in his muscles as his hips move almost imperceptibly, a little micro-thrust involuntarily twitching his pelvis forward.

"Oh, babe, that feels sooo good," he moans aloud, letting her know he is awake and appreciating her actions.

She sucks a little harder, no longer fearing that too much sensation may wake him, and draws back along his length, slurping . Lynne had encouraged her to make this blow job sloppy and somewhat slutty, assuring her that Jon will really appreciate this. She deliberately lets a little drool roll down his shaft, which is considerably longer than when she started this exercise moments ago.

"What's gotten into you that I get this nice kind of wake up call?" he asks breathlessly, giving her free rein of his private parts.

"Told you last night," she mumbles around his growing phallus, enjoying being dirty for him, not really releasing her connection with his manhood. "Lynne says I've been unfair to you, denied you the pleasure you rightly deserve as my husband. I'm going to make it up to you by pleasing you whenever I can."

She presses her mouth back onto his shaft, feeling it fill her mouth now and press against the back of her throat. She delights in her ability to give him a hard-on like this, his erection springing to life with virility she enjoys. The freedom to explore her naughty, subservient side is erotic and touches a deep need in her to relate to her mate in this way.

"I'm not sure what that means." Jon is skeptical, reluctant to believe this dream has become a reality.

She lets more drool escape as she glides her lips and tongue back along his length. She enjoys the way it glistens and he does, too. She can see it as she looks past his growing pole and up into his eyes -- those hungry, needful, lustful eyes. Again, the predator lurks behind those eyes, wanting to take her, wanting to unleash himself and ravish her. The hunter that she has, for years, denied -- sought to control and contain because to let it out was to relinquish her independence, her identity, her self-determination. At what cost, though? she wonders.

The key here is getting over her aversion to the idea that he deserves pleasure as her husband. This is the idea that she has fought so long with Mandy. Once able to swallow that, she is able to swallow him.

"Lay back and let me please you," she purrs. "This is all about you, all about you enjoying me sucking on your cock."

Without breaking eye contact, while watching the wonder and enjoyment and pleasure in his eyes, she engulfs his manhood again in her wet, inviting mouth, taking as much of him as she can, pushing herself when the head reaches the back of her throat. She wants to prove to him how good she is, how sincere she is, how dedicated to his pleasure she is.

"Oh, I'm enjoying all right. But what about you?"

"My period started last night. I don't want you to touch me. Just let me do this for you. Let me be your cocksucker. Let me just focus on you."

She draws back again, determined to be even messier, to slobber even more over his now throbbing prick. Let him see just how slutty I can be for him.

This is new, Jon realizes. Sue really does seem to be committed to this new relationship. Last night, she was saying all the right words about remorse over the rape accusation, but even more she seemed to genuinely regret her role in their strained sexual relationship over the last couple of years. Mandy's excessive action, reporting Jon to the cops, seems to have awakened Sue to just how radical Mandy's idealism is. And Sue's renewed relationship with her childhood friend Lynne, seems to be reaping bounteous rewards for him.

Wary from years of sparring with her philosophically over their sex life, he nevertheless decides to lay back and let her proceed. Maybe it is a trap; maybe it is for real. Regardless, he is getting a great blow job; enjoy that while you can! He settles back in the bed, propped up with pillows where he can watch the action and spreads his legs in invitation for her to continue.

She climbs aboard the bed and somewhat self-consciously positions herself between his legs. It is one thing to initiate this incident on him in his sleep and another to submit to it under his critical gaze. It feels like she is admitting she has been wrong, which is very hard to do. But in the interest of being happy, rather than right, she deliberately clamps down on her instinctive reluctance and with a conscious effort, determines to follow it through.

His cock is erect and throbbing, a symbol of masculinity and power framed by his open thighs. She knows what she has committed to, what she has agreed is her role. She kneels on the bed, lowers her head and reverently licks the length of his tumescent phallus.

"Nice," he purrs, encouraging.

Emboldened by her success and desiring to go "all in", she ducks her head down even further and extends her tongue to lap gently at his balls. He rocks his hips up, making them more accessible. It is both a courtesy to make it a little easier for her and a demand for more. She embraces the challenge willingly, licking his heavy testicles with slutty abandon. Psychologically, it is another step in her submission to him, a fact that registers plainly with both of them. It forms another intimate connection that they wordlessly share.

With her face pressed deeply into his crotch, Sue is again assailed by the earthy, all-male smell of his groin. She uses it to fuel her own desire to embrace his masculinity and to submit to it.

"Take off your shirt," he requests. And then to her raised eyebrow, he shrugs. "I want to see your tits."

Some nerve! the thought flashes into her brain before she can stop it. You're just a set of boobs to him, the script plays out in her head in Mandy's voice. Immediately on its heels, however, is Lynne's voice, He wants to see your boobs. He is panting for you. He wants you. His heart is beating fast for you. His eyes want to see more of you.

She even gives him a lascivious smile as she sits up and peels her night shirt over her head. Her chest is bare underneath and she proudly models her nipples pointing back at him. It is perversely gratifying to put her arousal on display for him, to show him her erotic need in the arch of her back and the presentation of her up-thrust chest, having already set the stage that that need will go unfulfilled today, that the only satisfaction to be had today will be his.

"Thank you," he smiles at her, pleased with her and her commitment to her newly stated goal of pleasing him.

"No," she replies, grateful that he is accepting this; she can feel his reluctance. "Thank you for giving me another chance. For letting me make up to you for how wrong I've been and for almost ruining our marriage."

He scans her face and expression for any sign of irony, any indication of trickery or falseness. He can find no shred of evidence to indicate any lack of complete sincerity. He loves her more for admitting her part in their strained relationship.

"Now, where was I?" she purrs. "Oh, yeah. I was just about to suck that gigantic cock of yours and make you cum for the first of many times today."

Okay, there is the trace of untruth he had been looking for. He is well aware that nobody but his loving wife is ever going to call his cock "gigantic." He's not embarrassed by his size -- he isn't tiny -- but closer to "solidly average" than "gigantic".

They both giggle at her deceit, sharing a conspiratorial smile but she isn't going to back down from her statement as she leans forward, freed breasts dangling down towards the bed, and stretches her lips obscenely wide to engulf the tumescent head.

Pure pleasure suffuses his loins and love swells in his chest. He has always loved her like this, why has their physical relationship taken such a long and difficult road to catch up to their hearts?

She finds that far from feeling cheated, minimized or degraded by this act, she feels desired and treasured. Sex doesn't have to be a battle for equality between genders but a joyous giving of oneself for another. She knew this once; when did she unlearn it?

Sue proceeds to pour her love and adoration for her husband out on his rigid pole, using all of her creativity and the expressive nature of lips and tongue. Her worship is not wasted and within moments, Jon's throbbing cock spirals up in glorious pleasure. He watches her bob and lick and suck and bathe him in slobbery wetness. He knows he won't last long under the loving assault and tries to slow her down to prolong this magical moment.

"Honey, if you don't slow down, I'm gonna come real soon," he pants out, the tension apparent in his husky voice.

"Um-hm," she nods, redoubling her efforts in obvious attempt to bring that about.

"You usually don't want..." he begins

"Give it to me," she pants smearing his wet glistening cock lewdly against her cheek and chin, really into her role now. "Cum for me, baby. Shoot for me. However you want it. Wherever you want it. Give it to me."

One of her hands is jacking the base of his cock, the other jiggles his balls. Her wet lips and tongue nip and lick and suck as she bobs quickly up and down on the sensitive head, the tip never far from her drooling lips and always pointed at her face and open mouth.

It is way too much for poor Jon's self-control. Never has he seen his independent, self-sufficient, professional wife play the total slut to such perfection. She is sucking, jerking him off and begging for his cum. There is zero chance for him to prolong this one.

Vainly, he tries to warn her one last time. "I'm.... Going.... To... Cuuuum...." he cries out as the crisis overtakes him. True to his word, his sperm rockets up his throbbing manhood and explodes into jet after jet of steamy white jism. And true to her word, she laps greedily at the spewing tip, milky ropes splashing hotly against her tongue and cheeks. Some splashes back down his pole, lubricating her hands as she continues to massage him and some she swallows, surprised that it tastes so much better than she remembers it.

After three or four massive throbs, she clamps down and holds the base of his cock tightly in her fist and puts a lip lock around the head, sucking hard to draw out any additional moisture left in the hose. Her selfless devotion to him making her feel more tender-hearted toward him.

"Arrrrgh," he groans as stars spin in front of his clenched eyes and his entire being throbs in her hands and lips.

She rejoices in his pleasure, marveling at her ability to give him such joy, loving him, delighting in the special intimate connection he is sharing with her. He lovingly caresses her hair as she lays quietly in his lap, licking his cum from her fingers and feeling the shudders of orgasmic aftershocks shake through him. At this moment, admitting she was wrong in the past seems a small price to pay for the joy of this experience with her husband, her love.

"Wow," he breathes after a few moments of recovery. "That was fantastic. Very nice way to wake up in the morning. Thank you."

"You're most welcome, kind sir," she answers, her head still in his lap, his limp cock still just inches from her face.

"So, what inspired this treat from you?"

"I told you last night. I am very sorry for the way I have behaved with regards to our sex life. I have been selfish and I've damaged our marriage. I want to make it up to you by doing things completely for your pleasure."

"Like waking me up with a blow job?"

"Yes and like being available to you for sex whenever you want. I want this to just be the first of many blow jobs I give you today."

"You realize that your 'marriage counselor' is not going to approve of this."

"I see what you were saying the other day. Following Mandy's advice has nearly ruined our marriage. Worse, it has made you reluctant to tell me what you want because she has taught me to use that against you. I'm sorry and I want to regain your trust that I will respond to your sexual advances more positively."

He chuckles and lifts her chin so that he can speak to her face, rather than the top of her head. "I'm afraid that clinically correct speech sounds a little rehearsed, my dear."

She immediately begins to tear up, looking him in the eyes. "It is hard. I have been rehearsing that speech because I wanted to get it right."

"It's okay, hon," he draws her up and enfolds her in his arms, chagrined that he has hurt her. "I hadn't thought of that. Of course, you're right. I'm sure this is hard for you."

"Mm-hm," she nods against his chest.

"It is such a reversal of what you've espoused over the last few years. I was worried that you were just repeating someone else's speech. I'm sorry. I hadn't considered how hard this must be for you. Forgive me? This is a little new for me, too. Maybe I'm a little gun-shy."

She snickers even through her tears. "Well, maybe we have to re-teach you how to 'shoot' that gun."

He laughs back with her, glad to again be flirting with his bride. It has been too long. "Let's consider lesson one complete, then. How did I do, teacher?"

"Okay, I suppose," she teases. "But you could do better. You were a little passive."

"What? You came in and approached me in my sleep! How am I supposed to be less passive?"

"It felt like you were holding back. Like you wanted to move but restrained yourself."

"I try to hold back because I don't want to be too demanding. I'm afraid I'll choke you if I thrust like I want to."

"It's okay. You can be a little more assertive. Lynne says it really isn't 'face-fucking' if you don't gag at least a little bit."