On a cold November night, after a long week of work, we lay under the covers. I brushed a few locks of blond silken hair behind her ear and looked into her deep kaleidoscopic eyes. There was one thing that would make this moment better, I thought. I gently took her hand and pressed it against my already waiting sex, and took a deep breath as I felt the familiar pleasure rush through me. She began stroking me hard and fast. I knew I would cum any minute. I knew I would reach the heights of climax I longed for. I knew the orgasm would quiet my mind, tranquilize my body, and allow me to drift off to sleep.
That's what I thought would happen... but it didn't. My wife, after a long day of work, was tired, and her hand began to slow down, keeping me right on the edge. Every time, just as I was about to cum, her hand slowed down just that little bit more, keeping me longing for release. I moaned to try to wake her, I tried to grind my hips, I needed just a little bit more... yet after what seemed like an eternity, her hand came to rest quietly, motionlessly on my aching sex. She was sound asleep!
In the past, I might have been frustrated, I might have woken her up, I might have finished myself off and went to sleep without true satisfaction. I don't know what made this night different, but it was. Instead of becoming frustrated, I began to feel my arousal as a blissful energy flowing through my veins. I looked at my wife's beautiful face. I felt her soft, kind hand gently holding my throbbing sex, yet it felt more like she was holding my soul. I took a deep breath, I closed my eyes, and feeling a kind of full body orgasm without release, I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
I dreamed of her: of the first time we met, of our picnic in the park, of strawberry iced-cream and love poetry. When I woke up the next morning, on Saturday, I not only was more physically aroused than I had ever been, but I felt a deep spiritual and emotional connection to my wife. As she began to stir, I already had a hot cup of coffee ready for her and was starting to give her a foot rub in bed. As I rubbed her feet, I began to get hard again. It wasn't so much holding her feet that aroused me, as I've never really considered feet to be an erotic body part. Just touching her skin, and, more importantly, knowing that I was giving her pleasure, is what was arousing me. In fact, it was as if I could feel the pleasure that I was giving her!
"What did you do?" She said in a playful voice, implying that I would only pamper her in this way if I was trying to make up for something.
