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"Mmmmm," Carol hummed from the floor. "Is it OK ... can you stay inside me while I finish myself off, Sir?"
"Yes, honey."
Carol snaked her right hand down to her clit. Derek's cock was softening within her, but he still had enough girth to feel her pussy clench around him when her orgasm rippled through her moments later.
With his knees starting to smart, Derek unearthed his cock with a soft sloshing sound. He let a long thread of saliva drop to her asshole, and using the extra lube he slowly worked his finger out from inside her. He sat back on the floor, stretching his legs out and enjoying the view of his wife's used cunt and open asshole. After a minute, a perfect white pearl appeared between her folds. It oozed down her lips, dangled in a momentary seminal stalactite, then dropped to the tile floor with a soft pop. Carol stayed motionless, and soon the rest of their mingled fluids leaked out in a steady pitter patter.
Derek finally rose, keeping his right middle finger up and away from its partners as he grasped the counter to heave himself upright. He turned away from his prostrate wife while he washed his hands thoroughly with dish soap. She was still there when he looked back, head down, ass up, a pool of shimmering fluids puddled between her spread legs. He smiled. He liked their new life.
"OK honey, on your knees." He grabbed her under both armpits and lifted her up to her quivering legs. She looked up at him, the post-orgasm daze evident in her features. Her eyes were still red with the memory of tears and her cheeks were flushed, but her face as a whole was almost expressionless. Except a frizzy corona around her hairline, her sweaty hair lay flat on her scalp.
He stood in front of her, dangling his sticky cock and balls in her face, and he let her clean him off — her tongue lapping like a grooming cat — as she got her mental gears spinning again. When he stepped back, there was again life behind her eyes. His smile widened. She grinned back.
"OK, upstairs wit you," he said, affecting a terrible New York tough-guy accent that always made them both laugh. "Take a shower and doll yourself up real nice before dinner."
As Carol laughed behind him, Derek opened the fridge and took out the chicken thighs, unsurprisingly still frozen solid. Her smile faltered as he held it before him. He looked at her in the eyes.
"Fuck this chicken," he said, still tough-guying. "Let's get some fuckin' pizza."
He swatted at her ass playfully as she crawled past him toward the stairs.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousover 2 years agoThe writing is actually pretty good. It has a realistic flavor and the reader receives a completely sympathetic depiction of a husband who loves his wife but is beyond frustration at his spouse's ditziness! I have known women exactly like Carol, lovely, yet a slice or two short of a full loaf.
Anonymousabout 3 years agoI love this story. A living dominance that's a realistic view of a mairred dom sub relationship. Please continue this story. I give it five stars.
