Catching My Husbear In Fishnets

"Hey sweetcheeks," I said, ogling Artie's boxer-brief-clad ass as he stood in front of the stove.

"Morning," said Artie, wiggling his phat booty at me.

"Why are you even awake, jaan? Aren't you off today?"

"Thought I'd send you off with a proper breakfast."

"That's sweet..." I said, walking up to him and hugging him from behind.

I nuzzled his neck as my hands roamed all over him. Artie giggled from my beard tickling him.

"Yes, babe?" he asked.

"You're a cruel-- cruel-- man--" I whispered, planting kisses all over his shoulder.

"The apron?" he asked, reaching back with one hand to casually caress my face as he expertly flipped the omelette. Artie was certainly the cook of the two of us.

"You know it," I growled, letting him feel my rising boner against him.

I'm an ass man, through and through. And aprons had to have been designed by a fellow ass man, given how beautifully they frame the wearer's derriere. Ever since I first saw Artie in one, the morning after fourth or fifth date, I was hooked. He had tried to finish making pancakes, but I had succeeded in tugging off his pajamas and feasting on his apron-clad ass. Even now when we have company over and Artie's cooking in his apron, I tend to get a little... handsy.

"You want toast with your eggs?" he asked.

"Ba-a-a-abe!" I groaned, humping against him.

Artie chuckled, neatly plated the omelette, switched the burner off, and turned around.

"What?"

Without even bothering to respond, I devoured his mouth like a horny teenager, one hand roughly squeezing his ass while the other cradled the back of his head. I could taste his morning coffee, a bitter earthiness I hated until I associated it with him.

"Are you even going to eat your breakfast?" he asked, breaking away from the kiss.

"Babe, please..." I whispered as I pushed Artie against the kitchen table.

"You're gonna be lay-- unh!"

Artie gasped deliciously as my fingers found his soft nipple nestled under his furry chest and squeezed.

"FUCK!" I cried out as my phone rudely interrupted us.

"Babe, it's fine."

"It's work," I said, looking at Jill's name on the caller ID.

"Let me wrap your omelette to go."

"Fuck the omelette."

"I'd rather you didn't."

I chuckled.

"Don't be late!" said Artie, shoving a tiffin box into my hand and shooing me towards the door.

Jill informed me that our afternoon presentation was now a morning presentation, so I skipped the office and drove directly to the client. All went smoothly and we secured the account. We'd been working the deal for weeks, so the presentation was mostly a formality, but it was a sigh of relief for both Jill and me. Our boss even gave us the rest of the day off because we'd handled the last-minute schedule change so well.

This meant that I could go back home and surprise Artie with lunch! Not that I'd be cooking, but I'm quite good with a takeout menu. Plus, I could feast on my man's thick booty for dessert!

"Jaan!" I called out as I triumphantly walked in. "Guess who got the client?"

No response.

Artie had said he needed to do some stuff around the house so I knew he wasn't out to lunch with one of our friends. The kitchen was all tidied up from breakfast, except for a lone corkscrew on the counter. I headed up to our bedroom.

"Jaan?"

No response. The shower looked wet, and Artie's boxer briefs lay crumpled on the bedroom floor.

"Unh!"

I froze at the sound of Artie's moan coming from the spare bedroom.

"Ohhhh..."

I was intimately familiar with THAT moan.

"Artie?" I asked, gingerly knocking.

Still no response. I tried the door, and it opened. I was not prepared for the sight that met my eyes.

My sexy bear of a husband was sprawled out on the guest bed, merrily jerking his fat cock, wearing nothing but thigh high fishnet stockings.

This was... new. I felt my cock stir in my chinos.

Artie had his fancy noise-canceling headphones on, his eyes scrunched up, blissfully caught up in whatever fantasy was fueling his throbbing erection. I rubbed my growing bulge as I watched him. I couldn't decide whether to join him in bed or just watch while he continued to pleasure himself.

"Ohhh..." he moaned again, writhing around on the bed.

A thousand questions were firing off in my mind, but the most pressing one was: why is this turning me on so much?

I leaned against the doorframe, and it squeaked.

"AHHH!" Artie screamed, sitting up straight and pulling a pillow over his junk.

"AHHH!" I screamed back, not expecting to be yelled at.

We both stared at each other for a second, and then I burst out laughing.

"Khaled, what are you doing here?" he yelled at me.

I tried to respond, but I was just doubled over with laughter.

"Khaled, please, just--" Artie began. Then he got off the bed, pulled off the bedsheet, draped it over his (nearly) naked body and marched out.

"Ba-- babe!" I called after him, trying to suppress my giggles.

Artie slammed the bedroom door shut.

"Babe, come on!"

I tried the door, but it was locked.

"Jaan! Let me in," I said, knocking.

I could hear him fussing about but there was no response.

"Artie, come on, we need to--"

The door opened suddenly, and I barely had time to register what was happening as a very red-faced but fully clothed Artie strode right past me without so much as making eye contact.

"Babe, can we talk?"

Artie rushed down the stairs as I followed, nonplussed.

"I'm going for a walk," he said insistently before rushing out the door. "To the park."

He knew me well enough to tell me where he was going. I knew him well enough not to follow.

I sat down in the living room. I never would have guessed this was something Artie was into. For one, Artie was not fragile in his masculinity. We painted our nails with our nieces. He occasionally did gender-swapped cosplay with his gaymer buddies. We were dedicated RuPaul fans and proudly wore our "Shangela Was Robbed" tank tops to the bar.

This was definitely different. This was sexual. It occurred to me that Artie had probably done this before.

Why hadn't he told me? Clearly, it turned him on a LOT.

Was he ashamed? I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I imagined him hiding it from me for all these years.

The front door lock clicked, announcing Artie's return.

"I'm in here," I said.

Artie walked in, still stone-faced.

"I... I, uh," he began. "Umm..."

He tended to retreat inwards when he was overwhelmed.

"We don't need to talk about it till you're ready," I said.

Artie nodded.

"Can I just say one thing?"

Artie grimaced, then nodded.

"That was so hot," I blurted out.

"What?"

"Incredibly hot."

"Hold on, you thought that was hot?" Artie asked.

"Like, apron-sex-in-the-kitchen levels of hot."

"Then why were you laughing at me?"

"What?" Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. "Oh my god, babe, I wasn't laughing AT you, I'm so sorry, I was laughing 'cause you yelled at me and then I yelled at you 'cause you startled me and it was just funny!"

"Oh."

"Wait..." I said, walking up to him. "You thought that my first reaction to catching you getting your kink on was to openly laugh in your face?"

"I don't know Khaled, I was embarrassed! And you're not exactly good at hiding your reactions."

"I'll say! I was gonna pull out the -reaction- in my pants before you started screaming."

"So you were into it?"

"BABE!" I said, grabbing his face with my hands. "Read my lips. It made my dick hard. H-A-R-D hard."

Artie smiled.

"I don't know if it's something you want to keep private, or something you want us to try together, but like..."

I couldn't even finish the thought before I captured his mouth in a kiss and we were making out like a couple of horny teenagers.

"Are we doing this?" he asked, giddy with excitement.

"Yes please!" I said, grabbing his ass and squeezing it.

"Wait, let me go get changed."

"Can I watch?"

Artie's grin got wider, and then he ran up the stairs. I followed, smacking his butt as we tumbled into our bedroom. I was still in my work clothes, so it took me longer to strip down completely.

"Can we try these?" Artie asked, holding up a pair of semi-sheer white stockings with bows on the top hem.

"How many of these do you have???"

Ignoring the question, he sat down on the bed to put them on.

"Wait," I said, scrambling onto the bed and positioning myself against the headboard. "Slower."

Artie turned to face me and slowly pulled them up while I jacked my hardening cock. The practiced ease with which he slid them over his legs did not go unnoticed by me. He adjusted the hem against his beautifully thick thighs and then ran his hands up the whole length of the stocking.

"Fuck..." I groaned.

Something about it was so forbidden yet so sexy. Like, Artie was so clearly a man. Not just a man, but a sexy ole bear. He was deliciously furry all over his chest and his arms and his adorable belly and his thick-ass legs and even had some tufts of manfur on his back. Not to mention, his boner was throbbing as he smoothed the stockings over his hairy legs.

"Want to help me with the other one?" he asked coyly.

I took the other one and felt the silky smooth material.

"That's it," Artie encouraged, as I tried to roll it up the way I'd watching him do it.

Unrolling the stocking over his leg basically required me to feel him up his leg, which I enjoyed doing any time of day. The silky white material of the stockings felt like such a contrast against Artie's knobby toes and hairy feet, which turned me on even more!

"You look so sexy, babe," I said, allowing my hands to roam all over my husband's stocking-clad legs.

I latched onto one of his nipples with my mouth and sucked gently while Artie moaned and ran his hands through my hair. I could feel him leaking precum against me as I kept rubbing his legs and switched to licking his other nipple.

"Oh, babe!" Artie cried out as I twiddled both nipples at the same time.

I licked my way down past his belly, ignoring his leaking erection, and raised his legs up so I could begin my feast. Eating him out was a favorite for both of us. Artie flicked his own nipples as I licked and sucked on his hole, while rubbing my hands up and down the smooth satiny stockings.

I hadn't even been going at it for ten minutes when I felt the tube of lube poking me in the head.

"Please," Artie begged, lust written all over his face.

I was a little disappointed to have my feast cut short but Artie's neediness made up for it.

"Yesss..." he hissed as a lube-slicked finger slid in.

I shuffled back up to suck and nip at his sensitive nipples while I worked one finger, and then two, in and out of him.

"Oh, babe! Ohhh..." Artie's groans of pleasure and shivers of excitement were making my dick throb.

"You ready?" I asked, positioning myself against his hole.

"Please just fuck me!"

I chuckled. I used to feel insecure about having a small dick as a top, but it truly is a blessing when you marry a tight-holed bottom with zero patience.

"OHHHH" we groaned together as I breached his hole.

I started off slow, relishing his tight grip against me, as we kissed. After a few minutes, Artie pulled off to lick my neck, which I knew was his way of telling me to go harder. I picked up the pace, running my hands all over his sexy body, fondling him anywhere and everywhere I wanted. Soon, I felt his stockinged legs circle around my waist to pull me into him. He was ready.

SMACK! I spanked his ass, hard.

"AH!" Artie cried out in pain-pleasure. Reflexively, he raised his arm above his head, because he knew I loved to sniff his pits while I pounded him.

His musk drove me wild. I don't know if it's just pheromones or what, but Artie's pits are like an elixir when he's getting pounded. I've sniffed him at other times, and he still smells sexy, but when he's getting fucked, I swear it's like a special pheromone gets released that's designed to make me wanna pound him silly. And that's exactly what I did.

"Ow-ow-ah-ah-ahhhhh-wwwww-ohhhhhh!" Artie moaned as I fucked him and spanked him and fucked him, thrusting in and out with abandon, trying to get as deep inside him as I could.

"I... love... you..." Artie panted, his hole spasming around me as he drifted into his stupid horny state of bliss.

He went to touch his own dick, but I smacked his hand away. Artie whimpered and tried again, and I smacked his hand away again. I held his hands above his head as I continued thrusting into him, staring deep into his eyes, watching him lost in pleasure and feeling like a king for being the one to take him there.

He struggled against my grip, begging me with his eyes to allow him release. I refused. Artie was strong enough to pull free if he wanted to, but in this state, he was wired to obey.

I was ready to blow any second, unsure if I myself could hold out from the sweet release I was denying my horny husband, but I relished how beautiful he looked in his state of desperation.

"I- love- you- I- love- you- I-" Artie panted with each thrust, until I captured his mouth in mine, squeezing his ass hard as I pounded him, overwhelmed with love for my man, wanting to make this moment last as long as I could.

"Khaled!" Artie cried out, pulling away from the kiss.

I felt, and then saw, a hot wet splash against me. I had fucked the cum out of Artie. I didn't want to ruin the orgasm for him, so I grabbed his throbbing boner and jerked, and soon that one hot streak was joined by four, five, six more, his cum spilling all over my fist and my pubes and his furry belly.

I knew it would be painful for Artie if I kept going, so I gently pulled out of him, gathered up his spillage in my palm, and stroked myself once, twice, three times, before I roared and shot my own load all over us.

"Fuck!" I cried out, before collapsing, half onto the bed, half on Artie. He was still baring his pit, so I snuggled closer so I could keep sniffing him as we both basked in the afterglow.

"I love you," I mumbled.

"Gayyyyyy!" quipped Artie.

"Nelly."

"Fudgepacker."

"Cocksucker."

"I love you."

"I love you."