Love's Labors Ch. 01

I roll on my side to face her, cup her cheek and we kiss. It's a lovely, sweet, lingering touching of lips and tongues, which convey more emotion than passion. It is one of those moments when I am overwhelmed with how much I love this woman. I'd do anything for her.

"A bet's a bet. Ten wishes it is. I owe you way more than that anyway, my love."

She burrows her head under my chin. Her breath tickles the hair on my chest. "Thank you."

I stroke her hair, what there is of it. She had shaved her head at a fund-raiser for a co-worker with breast cancer. After doing a double take I decided she looked pretty hot. She looks even hotter with this short, spiky brown hair. I rub my hand over her head.

"I like your hair like this. Why don't you keep it a while?"

"Seriously?" She asks without moving.

"Um-hmm," I mutter against the top of her head. Her hand moves down my belly and begins to fondle my cock.

"So," I ask. "Do you already know what your wishes are? Or are you still working on the list? When do I start the first of my labors?"

She tilts her head and I tilted mine as well. She's smiling again. "Now that is an interesting thought. I hadn't thought of that." Her smile broadens. "You know Hercules had twelve labors not ten."

I nod. "True but I haven't murdered my family. Ten should suffice, no?"

"Reasonable," she agrees with a single nod. "So, your first labor is..."

---

She stops there of course, leaving me hanging.

"Okay, sweetheart, spill it, what do you want me to do?"

"I'm trying to decide what I want you to do first. Give me a minute?" The way she chews her lower lip I know she is truly pondering her options, not just toying with me. She kisses my chest and then rolls away enough to look me in the eyes.

"I can't decide, so I'll let you choose. Okay?" I give my consent with a nod. "Okay, but one of the choices has two parts and I don't want to tell you the second part until after the first part."

I frown. "If there is a 'second part' doesn't that make it two 'somethings', wouldn't that bring us down to only eight somethings left?"

She shakes her head, appalled. "No way. The two parts are integral to each other, it's the second part that I really want, and so it's really only one."

It's my turn to shake my head. "I don't think so babe." I don't want to be at loggerheads already so I offer a compromise. "How about this sweetie? We ditch the idea of 'somethings' and call them 'labors' and in order to keep the continuity, we make it twelve instead of ten, but count this one as two. In essence you're getting a bonus, after the two tonight you still have ten left."

Her eyes smolder. Excellent. She nods.

"Deal, but I'm still not going to tell you both parts."

I shrug. "Okay, shoot."

She shakes her head again. "No lover, you shoot." I stare at her, waiting for an explanation. She rolls onto her back and for an instance I'm afraid I've done something to upset her. She throws the covers off her body and lies there, nude and beautiful and perfect.

"I want you to masturbate. I want you to masturbate and cum on my tits."

I look at her, confused. "But baby, these labors are for you. That's really what you want? You want me to cum on your breasts? Seems sort of, I don't know, degrading or something."

We aren't prudes. We've watched porn together at times. Kendra had always maintained that the single most ridiculous thing about porn is women begging men to cum on them. I agree but have, on occasion, tried to explain that there is something erotic about seeing the result of one's passion, semen or vaginal secretions. It wasn't, to my mind, so much about establishing dominance. I love seeing her thighs wet with her own excitement. It's just that in the case of a male, most of the evidence of his excitement occurs at the end and tends to be more copious. In any case, I find her request baffling.

"I know. It doesn't fit with some of the things I've said. They are your labors, as you put it, but you aren't being punished, and I'd like to use this as a chance to experiment a little." She cupped her breasts with both hands and began to pull at them. "So go ahead, cum on my tits." She smiles. "Remember that's only the first part of this labor."

I was still lying on my side. My eyes sweep slowly over her body, the spiky hair, the smoldering brown eyes, the just right breasts and the tantalizing nipples hidden by her hands, the flat tummy, and the cropped landing strip of her pubic hair. As my eyes devoured her body, she bent her right leg, opening herself to me. Her labia, her pussy, is waxed and smooth. I swear I can see the lips darken and swell as I gaze at her. Her pussy already glistens in the dim light of her bedside lamp.

She's a goddess, a fucking goddess and she's chosen me. Unbelievable.

I roll to my knees and start to lean over her, intending to kiss her, as I reached between my legs. She holds up her hand and puts it gently against my chest, shaking her head.

"I want to watch you, baby. As much as I'd love to have your mouth on mine, on my breasts, on my body, I want to watch you even more. Kneel beside me."

She releases her breasts and trails her fingernails down her belly, past her pussy, and over the inside of her thighs. I follow her hands, hypnotized. She's clearly very turned on, how she has the strength to keep her hands away for her pussy and her clit is beyond me.

I rub my hand over my cock, lubricating my palm with pre-cum, and begin to stroke. My knees touch her left hip and side. I'm not sitting on my heels. I'm kneeling upright, belly thrust over Kendra's lovely body. Her hands continue to glide over her body, ignoring her nipples and her pussy. Her skin shines like a wet caramel, blessed with skin that tans without freckling.

I encircle the base of my cock and balls with my left hand and squeeze, thrilling to the extra ache the pressure provides. The ache waxes and wanes as the heel of my hand makes contact with my balls. Kendra has seen me masturbate before. We've always been secure enough to know that a partner masturbating means nothing more than the stars didn't align for both parties to participate. She's seen me masturbate but not like this. I've always been a little ashamed that I enjoy the ache, the pain, which jerking off this way provides. She's never seen me pinch my nipples either. I consider it but that would mean letting go with my left hand.

Almost as if reading my mind, she leaves off stroking her body and begins to play with her own nipples. I'm in agony. Not being able to lower my mouth to her beautiful mounds and hard nipples is worse than the ache in my balls. I moan, forgetting to be as quiet as possible, another downside of children.

My hand begins to move faster, and harder. The ache is truly more pain than ache now. My hips jerk forward and I erupt.

The first shot arches past her body to land partly on the sheet, but the main streamer falls in a spotted line across her right breast down to her left hip. The caramel skin is now dotted with watery gobs of white. Three more streamers of cum lace across her body. I lean across her body, supporting myself with my left arm. She wanted me to cum on her tits, not her belly. Because of the way I'm leaning over her, most of my load is deposited on, and under her right breast.

I rest there, leaning on one arm, my other hand unwilling to release my still twitching cock, knowing that was one of the best orgasms I have had in the past few months. I swivel my head and kiss my wife. When I straighten up, I can already feel the post-coital pull of my pillow. Kendra's eyes still smolder.

I sit back on my heels, smart enough for once to understand that lying down and going to sleep would constitute a major mistake. I remind myself she had said this was a two-part labor.

Her left hand leaves her left breast. That breast and hand are pristine, unadorned with my emissions. She uses her fingers to wipe a dollop of cum off her right shoulder. She watches my face intently. She holds the fingers out. I stare, honestly confused.

"Phase two," she whispers and touches her fingers to my lips. I instinctively pull away. I start to sputter a protest but she interrupts me. "Put my fingers in your mouth."

I've tasted my cum on occasion. I can't say it was disgusting but neither did it taste so wonderful that I made the habit of eating it. My eyes dart from her fingers to her eyes.

"Go on," she urges, more than commands. My earlier thought, regarding men who reported wanting to puke at the thought of putting a dick in their mouth, blooms in my mind. I ask myself what's the difference here? Aren't I guilty of the same double standard? I can put my cum in her mouth but she can't put my cum in my mouth? I remind myself that she rinse her mouth out but have to concede it's after she's swallowed.

I made the bet. I agreed to this.

I lean forward and engulf her fingers with my mouth. There isn't much. It has the same funny pungent flavor I recall. She pulls her fingers out and holds up her index finger. I understand and lick it with my tongue. She holds up her second finger and I lick that one. When she lowers her hand I congratulate myself. I tell myself that wasn't so bad.

She extends her right hand. That hand had been playing with her right breast when I ejaculated. My cum shines wetly on the back of her hand and across her thumb. I put the thumb in my mouth and suck. I'm rewarded by hearing a soft moan from my wife. I lick the back of her hand, between her fingers and then turn the hand over and lick the palm, even though none of my seed resides there.

My eyes are glued to her beautiful blazing brown eyes. When I release her hand, it falls between her legs. I turn my head and watch as she dips her fingers into her cunt to wet them and then begins to massage her clit. Her fingers shine. I reach for her hand and suck on her fingers. This I've done many times before. I chide myself for doing it this time. I did it for me not for her but I know how to make amends.

As her fingers drop back to her clit, I lean over, extend my tongue and lick up the cum that lies pooled in the hollow above her left hip. I lick and suck and make my way across her belly. Her belly button is full of clear fluid. I don't lick. I slurp. She moans. I lick under her breast and then I clean the soft mound of her breast. All that remains is the nipple. Most of my cum has softened and run off the nipple on to her breast, but be that as it may, I take her nipple in my mouth and begin to flick it with my tongue. As I do, her hips begin to convulse underneath me. Her left hand wraps around my head and forces my face into her breast as she begins to whimper and pant beneath me.

When she finally relaxes, I turn and lay my head on her tummy, facing her pussy. Her heart roars in my ear. I pull her hand to my mouth and begin to suck on her fingers.

She tastes better than I ever will.