"Careful, babe, I'm gonna cum!"
"Mm!"
"No, Jill! Please, stop!" Louis pulled out of his wife's mouth. A frown flicked across her face. Then her huge eyes softened, gazing up at him. She pulled at his pulsing length briskly. "Come on, I know you want it." She leant forward, lapping her fat tongue under his joggling cockhead. "I want it."
A treat had turned into torture. She had settled them in front of a long mirror, kneeling at his feet. Her kittenish, naked body taunting him with its unavailability. He had been looking forward to this grabbed afternoon for months, a cheeky break in in their busy schedule of work and children. A long hot bath, displaying herself for him, playing with his hard on, telling him in gruesome detail everything she wanted to do to him and now this. All the things he loved. Except the most important.
"Please, let me lick you, first," Louis whined. "I need to eat you. Please."
She smiled at his cock in her hand, her tongue curled out over her lip. "I'll cum when you cum, see?" She nodded at the mirror, and tipped her bottom up to the reflection revealing the fingers of one hand playing between her legs. Louis groaned.
Jill shivered, and her eyelids dropped. "I'm madly wet, you'd better hurry up," she said pulling him back into her mouth.
Louis cursed his weakness. He should pull out, now, walk away. Go wank in the toilet and teach her a lesson. But her mouth was so good, she was so good. And she was enjoying herself at least; he could take comfort in that. She moaned and trembled again, struggling to keep control, one hand blurring him into her, the other making sloppy noises at her own bits.
He clenched his fists, curled his toes, bit down hard. Jill gasped, and frowned at him again. A long muffled whimper escaped her throat. Great! She was very close. If he could just let her cum, then she might stop sucking him, then he would win. That would prove his—
"F-FUCK!"
He exploded and Jill squealed and gulped at his orgasm, sparking and fuelling her own. All-powerful and smug in her abilities, she ignored his jerking, holding him still to her sucking while she shuddered and twitched out her climax. Finally, crumbling into a long throaty cackle, she released him to collapse onto the floor.
But he refused to be discarded. He gathered his trembling, profoundly empty, body together and hauled it over between her knees, where her hand still stirred at her sex.
"Please," he said, nuzzling his face at the back of her hand. "I know you can cum twice."
For a moment, she looked down at him, eyes flicking between his.
"Meow?" he said and nuzzled her hand again.
Her lip twitched - almost a sneer - and she covered herself firmly with both hands, letting out a long sigh. "That was massive, I'm done." She leant over and kissed the top of his head. "Thank you, sweet pea," she said. "Now I need a wee."
She scampered away. Louis wanted to weep. "It's been two years, since I last licked you!" he shouted at the toilet door.
Water tinkled into water.
#
It might have been better if Jill had completely gone off sex, Louis could almost deal with that. The fact that she still wanted to do him, whether wanking or sucking, but refused to ever let him near her bits with any part of him other than his desperate gaze... that was just cruel. Any attempt to address the issue with her was usually met with a blowjob, which she called "rebooting". As if he was stuffed with errors and needed re-setting to function properly. And unfortunately, she was kind of right. It worked to a point. His mates would bite their knuckles when he explained his dilemma. They all made no secret of fancying his wife, who they referred to openly by the witty acronym: 'WILF'. As far as they were concerned, he'd won the lottery.
Then one day, their neighbour, Tabitha, barged in.
Tabitha's husband, Jon, was a hedge-fund manager so she didn't need to work, other than ordering interior-designers and builders around. Louis ran his own business from home so would often hear the tiny ballet-girl bullying the massive blokes working on their massive house.
The woman looked sweet and neat and was full of smiles, but she was a demonic force of nature. Jill did a hilarious impression of her, stamping her foot and slapping her thighs, squeaking, "You do NOT say no to me!"
Which is why, one afternoon, when there was a rap-rap-rap at the door, even though they had a doorbell, Louis knew it would be Tabitha. For a moment he considered not answering.
"Helloo!" she sung through the letterbox. "I know you're there!"
It was a warm, sunny spring day and she was barefoot in a light dress when he opened the door. This was an uncharacteristically relaxed look for her, so hopefully she wasn't on the warpath. She even had her long black hair down, instead of up in its perpetual, severe bun.
"I need to camp out here, for a bit," she said, "the Poles are getting on my tits. And not in a good way." She strode past him. "Got any peppermint tea?"
Louis put the kettle on, while Tabitha half danced, half stalked around his kitchen, peeking in cupboards and rifling papers at the table where he'd set out his 'office.'
"Jill out?" She said.
"Yep."
"What you up to, then?" She swivelled his laptop round and frowned at it. "No porn? What kind of man are you?"
She chuckled at his stiff smile, and took his proffered tea, smirking up at him.
"Sorry, Bigboy," she said, sipping, wrinkling her nose and plonking down her cup." I've just got back from the salon." She flapped her skirt. "A waxing always gets me frisky. Got any sugar?"
The buried remark hung in the air between them and Louis was annoyed that his hand trembled as he handed her the sugar. She plopped six lumps into the tea, shrugged at his incredulity and hopped up onto the table next to her cup. She crossed her legs and flicked a foot. "Sorry for the frisky remark." She muttered, her cheeks mottling pink.
"I don't think you are sorry, really," Louis said, settling back at his laptop, beside her lap. She smelled of expensive soap. She looked down at him, biting the inside of her cheek. Was it his imagination or was Tabitha just... radiating horn?
She shrugged again. "True. It's just that Jon has been away, and I was expecting him back tonight so, you know, I got the undercarriage all prepped. Defuzzed."
"Yep. More than I needed to know, thanks."
"Then the fucker says he's going to be another week. He's such a shagger I bet he's hooked up with some slutty slut. The fucker."
Louis harrumphed and flapped noisily - though blindly - through his papers.
Tabitha pulled her skirt up to her knee and rolled her bare foot. "So now I feel all undressed and nowhere to go. I've done the cheeky fingering in the mirror thing - y'know just checking on the salon's handiwork—and that didn't help at ALL."
"Fuck Sake, Tabitha?"
"Oh please. Call me Tab. Only my dad calls me Tabitha. What do you think to my dilemma, though?"
"I think you should go." He sat back and folded his arms. "Tabitha."
She sniggered, shuffled on her bottom, sipped her tea, and then sat on her hands.
"We hear you from next door," she said to his fingers as they typed gobbledegook. "Shouting. About..." she rolled a hand. "Tongue."
Louis winced. "Seriously?"
Tabitha chuckled, her cheeks crimson. Louis laughed nervously into his palms. The thought that she knew his darkest need made him want to curl up his own arse and disappear. She leant back on the table, knees apart and swinging both legs girlishly. She glowed with power. "Don't worry, we all argue about this shit, sometimes. You must hear us, too?"
Louis attempted an impression of Jill's impression. "You DON'T say no to me!" It was terrible, but Tabitha still threw back her head and hooted. When she looked at him again she was flushed to the chest, her smile twitching on her lips.
"Seems we have similar... issues," she whispered. "With tongue. Or lack of." She put her foot on his knee.
Louis cleared his throat, but his heart still stayed lodged in there. He needed to keep his mouth shut right now, back away from the table. Ask her to leave. Silence stretched itself taut between them. Despite himself, his middle flushed warm. Tabitha wriggled her toes up his leg. "So Jon won't let you lick him, either?" He gripped her foot, the instant before it could test the swelling in his jeans. Her skin was chilly in his hot palms.
Tabitha scowled. "Oh no, he's happy enough for me to suck him off, and fuck. All that. He just won't return the favour. Ever. Won't even touch me, down there, unless he's spreading me to shove his dick in." She sighed and dropped her leg, slapping her thighs. "I'm just getting so... well. That's why I wax. The only time he'll ever go down at all, is when, you know. It's all... bald." She sniggered. "Sorry. Too much information, again."
Louis wanted her skin back in his hands. He slid his eyes up her ankles, along her calves. Was he reading this correctly? Did this woman need the same thing he did? Was she offering it? Then his need, imprisoned for two years, got bored with the introspection and just burst out, locking all sense behind it. With a sudden scrape of the chair that made them both jump, he stood up and leant between Tabitha's knees. He prayed he wasn't getting the wrong end of the stick.
"Louis, you ok? You look... hungry," she said, blinking.
Louis's cheeks prickled. Oh no, what was he thinking? He stepped away from her, but she cackled and pincered his legs between hard thighs. Before he could think twice, Louis had yanked up her skirt.
Her nakedness beneath was no surprise at all.
"You discovered my naughty secret," she whispered, and opened her legs. She rested her cheek on her shoulder, watching him take her in. The pale skin of her hips and thighs smoothed over her mound and folded neatly beneath, where a glistening groove made Louis's mouth water.
He slid his hands up her thighs, pulling her legs up and indecently wide. She trembled out a long breath as he slipped her lips open with his thumbs, her juices strung and sparkled.
"Do it," she breathed. "Please."
He dropped his mouth to her and she cried out so loudly she wrapped her arm over her face and bit the crook of her elbow. Her hot arousal slicked his tongue as he swathed it slipperily over her taut nub. She muttered and cursed and came within a handful of big breaths. Spreading her lips wide to him, and exposing her tiny clit to the quick gentle flapping of his super-lubed tongue, she arched and yelped and twitched against him; gripping him tight in place until she could stand it no longer. After a shuddering moment she covered herself up with a deep, long and satisfied chuckle.
"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You are very good at that," she croaked, guiding her foot over the lump in his trousers as it did its best to barge out. Her eyes widened. "You enjoyed it, too, it seems."
Louis unfastened his clothing and let the proof of his enjoyment nod itself rigid below her blissful gaze. She hummed and sat up, taking it in her hand and squeezing a bead of precum to his tip. "Oh my, you really did like it didn't you?" She rubbed the head of his cock on her slippery clit, tremoring in orgasmic aftershock. "Ah thassnice..." she breathed.
