Her Afterwords

My thirty-nine year old hyper successful executive wife had grown selfish lately about our sex life. Taking my cock yet not caring about my pleasure had become the norm. The last straw had been laid by her a few nights before. She chose to slam her legs shut after being provided multiple orgasms without a thought for my needs. Staring in disbelief, I fumed silently. My cock shrank as my displeasure grew. Sometimes in life you create your own monsters. Then a Grinch like smile crossed my face as a plan began to form. I decided it was time to change things up. Subconsciously, my plan would give her what she really wanted while giving me satisfaction. No more lovely dovey. I would simply echo her emotions back to her and, in a detached way, reap the rewards.

Fast forward a few days. Like any good executive, every aspect of her life was controlled and routine. She liked to de-stress every Wednesday. This involved giving her a good dicking down after work. This Wednesday eve I pretended to ignore. Hearing her complete her bedtime tasks, I waited thirty minutes and then spied on her. She was prone on the bed, face turned away, the coverlet still neatly smoothed under her. Clad only in the tiniest of pink panties, the sight of her mostly naked 105 pound petite beauty drove me mad with lust. Her deep breathing a physical demonstration of her exhaustion after yet another long day of dominating in the boardroom. A dragon lady through and through.

Glimpsing her alabaster side boob made me want. It was seriously tempting to cross the room and take her. However, this time she had fallen asleep while waiting for the man she had decided to take for granted like some bitch ass employee. I was no longer in the mood to play that role on any level. I stood naked and observed her slender form. Pulsing thickly, my heavy erection hung down, a beast in waiting or so she thought.

Flush with arousal, I walked back down the hall to the computer and browsed. A bottle of lube accompanied by a good craft brew stood by as I hungrily eyed the images I found desirable. My cock drew up fully and the tip became leaky. Thick fluid gathered in the heavy folds of my foreskin as I slowly stroked. Occasionally a drop would become heavy enough to separate and land with a palpable splat on the hardwood. I edged continually for two long hours until I felt I would lose my shit. Cock sprung, purple and raging, I turned off the computer. Grabbing the lube I stood and walked to the bedroom. It was time.

I entered to find her much as before, face down and seemingly peaceful. I was so close to cumming I had to hold myself loosely so as not to ejaculate. Pouring an exceptionally heavy portion of the remaining lube over the length of my painful erection, the overflow quickly filled my upturned hand. Padding silently over to her side I pulled the tiny triangle of pink material off her mound. Her lightly trimmed pussy shown bright due to her naturally blonde pubes. Using my hand as a funnel I directed the warm lube into her slit. Spreading her labia I instantly pierced her depths. The result was volcanic. Eyes snapping open, she seemed to struggle mentally to grasp her situation. Her body on the other hand simply reacted. Pelvis locked down by mine, her chest and legs, desperately seeking escape, curled up off the bed, fight or flight reflex denied.

As she lay speechless I augured myself deeper into her tightness, fully bumping her cervix in the process. I froze in anticipation. Her mind, perhaps due to overload, seemed to close down. Accepting this fate, her body seemed to signal a primordial code: moisten and allow mating. Her pussy complied with this message and relaxed. I began to fuck. Fifteen years of marriage allowed me to read her hungers with perfect clarity. My girth spread her clitoral hood, exposing it to the mattress with each thrust while my mushrooming head stroked her G spot repeatedly. A wanton cadence was set that created both desire and denial. In short, I simply rocked her cunt until she had girly blue balls.

When I knew I could no longer hide her reward, I let myself go. A silent orgasm shot rope after rope of cum deeply into her. Finishing, I pulled out. Without so much as a glance I stood and walked to the shower, semen drizzling free out of my flagging cock, over my knee, and onto the floor. I left her hanging.

"Bastard!" She screamed at my back. I acknowledged nothing.

All of three minutes later, as I stood luxuriating under the spray of the shower, I heard the curtain being ripped back and felt the in rush of cool air. I opened my eyes as she pushed me against the tiled wall, her small frame almost swollen with emotion. Surprising me with a bite to my shoulder that was hard enough to instantly raise a welt, she climbed me like a tree and mewed into my neck the sexiest after words ever.

"I just masturbated with your sperm." She whispered.

Wrapping her small body around me she allowed herself to again be that wonderful, grateful person I married.

"Never take me for granted again." I stated.

A half hidden nod signaled her acceptance. Our duel embrace tightened. We both understood our places in this renewed relationship.