Typical Night, or Maybe Not

Author's note: This story contains a cis-hetero couple engaging in loving sex.

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He turns his head to see her walk out the den towards the bedroom as he is surfing the web on the other computer, and thinks that is getting to be about that time. The task bar says "8:46 PM", but when the 3 year old wakes everyone up at 5 am everyday it's late enough. He finishes reading the thread on putting custom Android ROMs on a HP Touchpad and puts the laptop away. Just about to walk to the bedroom himself he remembers the empty milk glass and the plastic sleeve from the Oreos. Picking them up, he takes them into the kitchen.

The kitchen is dimly lit from the night light on the range hood. She always turns that on for him just in case he has to go to their son in the middle of the night. Just enough light to light the way to their son's bedroom in the open floor plan apartment so he doesn't trip over the odd toy that's laying out. After putting the glass on the counter, even though the dishwasher is dirty, he puts the empty sleeve in the trash. He stops briefly to think of packing breakfast and lunch for tomorrow, but remembers it is Friday night. Friday night to parents is a lot like any other night. Walking toward the bedroom he turns out the ceiling light and opens the bedroom door.

He opens the door and is taken aback by what he sees. He momentarily questions if it is his wife; she is stunning. She is like something out of a dream, and he now thinks that is exactly what this is. She realizes the state he is in and realizes she will have to take matters into her own hands. As he is shaking off the shock, she rises from the bed and approaches him. The red diaphanous gown clings to the shins of her long legs and quietly floats behind them as she walks to him. He starts to regain his faculties just as she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply. He is still somewhat bewildered, but he begins to kiss her back and puts his arms around the woman he loves and feels her warmth through the thin satin.

She feels him bring his cool hands up her back to rest on her shoulder blades as they continue to kiss. She begins to sense his response to her advances. She slowly turns breaking the embrace. Reluctant to stop he kisses her cheek and her neck and her shoulder as she turns. Her hand finds his and she leads him toward the bed. When they reach the edge of the bed he draws her in for another kiss, but instead of her lips he kisses her forehead. He is slightly disappointed, but that quickly vanishes as her soft lips dance down his neck. He loves it when she kisses him like that. He loves lots of foreplay. She knows he likes it, and lingers a bit on his neck before moving to his chest. She rarely does this since she does not need a lot of foreplay herself when she is deep in the mood. He shivers slightly as she glides her soft warm hands down his chest as she moves lower. He is in a state of rapture. Enjoying every touch, wondering in the back of his mind how he got so lucky. What he did to deserve this.

She reaches his straining shorts and kisses along the band before stretching the band to slide them over his grown sex. She pulls them down his thighs as she begins to kiss his hips being careful not to touch his member just yet. It is hard for her to keep this up. She is already very aroused. The thought of this had her touching herself a bit before he even entered the room. Now her panties are not just damp like when she is usually aroused but wet.

He wonders what has gotten into his wife! This is turning back into the dream he fought out of when he entered the room. He is becoming more and more under her control. His fingertips have just started to get a nearly imperceptible tingle of extreme arousal when a bolt of pleasure temporarily knocks out all his senses.

She can tell he is enjoying this immensely which is just ramping up her need for him exponentially. She tries to keep going slow but can't control the sudden urge and takes him all at once into her hot needy mouth. She knows just what to do, but he is so hard and pointing up. Being on her knees is a bad angle. She stands leaving his sex. As he begins to wonder why she stopped she pushes him back onto the bed. As he scoots on his butt back onto the bed she slips her arms out of the straps of her gown and it whispers softly down her body as it falls to the floor. She steps out of it and onto the bed.

Seeing her gown fall away he sees the red lacy bra and panties she had on underneath and wonders what he is in for. Her hair falls around her face as she crawls onto the bed with hungry eyes. She fights back the urge to climb on top of him and satisfy her uncontrollable need for him and resumes caressing his hard on with her tongue. He desperately wants her to climb on top of him. He loves when she goes down on him and wants to enjoy every second of this rare delight, but the pressure deep inside him is building to dangerous levels.

She senses his impending orgasm and leaves him caressing his leg down to his toes as she lays her head down on the pillow that just happens to be at his feet and extending her foot up his side.

He is relieved and disappointed at the lack of release and finally realizes she is waiting for him. He sits up and crawls towards her with the hungry eyes like she did moments ago. The lack of release has awakened him from his pleasure stupor and as he approaches her he can smell she is wearing his favorite perfume thinking "how did I miss this before?"

He wants to feel her impaled on his rod badly. First, he also wants to show her the pleasure she showed him. He reaches her lips and kisses her deeply. They are both fighting hard against their animalistic urges to make this last. He begins to kiss her neck and she tries to wiggle out of her very wet panties. He brings her mischievous hands up to her sides wanting to unwrap his gift for himself as he kisses her breasts in the very revealing bra. Desperate for more direct attention to her need she pushes his shoulders down. Taking her hint and giving in to her desire he moves lower to more quickly reaching the lacy top of panties. He can smell her intoxicating pheromones and it almost drives him wild. He almost takes her in one quick motion by pulling her wet panties to the side. He regains control and slides the soaked panties down her legs.

She is watching him take down her panties with anticipation of his fingers doing their magic on her clit. She would give anything to get his fingers on it right now. She sees him notice how wet the panties are and wonders what he is waiting for now. He approaches from her toes with a look in his eye as he stops at her hips. He quickly hooks his arms under her legs and spreads them apart. He buries his face in her and laps her clit with his tongue. She realizes his intention moments before contact but it was not enough to steel herself against the intensity. She loves his tongue. It always feels so good to have him tasting her. Unfortunately, his beard, that she also loves, means no tongue. It really is a cruel choice to have to make. He shaved it off earlier that day for a costume party tomorrow and she is thankful to fate for that. She is at a loss for what he is doing with his tongue only that it feels amazingly good. She is writhing uncontrollably under his tongue and building toward what will be a thunderous climax. He can tell she is getting close, but instead of prolonging it he keeps on urgently wanting to feel the spasms of her joy on his face.

She senses the impending wave but is powerless to the pleasure. She continues to shudder uncontrollably as he continues his work. She is clutching at the sheet beside and behind her as the rest of her body is spasming, it crescendos with every muscle in her body going taut as she cries out uncontrolled. Waves of pleasure course through her and she is overwhelmed with the release. The endorphins are still rising as she realizes he did not stop. Another wave is approaching. She wants him to stop. The last one was too much. The intensity. Her tensed and aching muscles. She is powerless. She tries to hold on. Her knuckles whiten as they grip the sheets and her body thrashes. It reaches a fever pitch as an even larger wave slams into her. Self-preservation kicks in and a surge of adrenaline gives her the strength to sit up and push him down the bed to where he started. Straddling him, she guides him into her in one rapid motion.

He is surprised by the new strength awakened in her and is stunned by the sudden wave of pleasure as her burning, wet love canal consumes his throbbing rod. He goes instantly tingly in his hands and feet as they buck against each other. There is no holding back. There is no tenderness. Just animalistic intensity. The raw unbridled passion has finally been set free. She begins to pulse against him, as he moves in and out of her, the first sign of her rare climax from sex. His body begins to thrust without conscious thought. It is all instinct. He feels the pressure building, but his body thrusts on like an out of control train. He is scared by how powerless he is to control it. He continues driving flat out. She is riding him with every last ounce she has feeling the impending climax in herself knowing he is closing in on the same. They give it their last as their orgasms smash together. They feel like a lightning bolt has struck the room. Reeling from the orgasm the aftershocks roll through like thunder. She collapses next him his arm under her neck. He gives her a squeeze as they lay there panting. Unable to move they pass out their bodies lustrous in the room light.