**** Sunday morning
It had been a hell of a night. But it was not a nice day.
I was sat at the breakfast bar, looking out the doors at the disgusting weather. Autumn seemed to have decided it was done with nice sunsets and gold-red leaves on trees. It had instead settled, moodily, for a sort of gusty, rain-swept murk. I looked up at the clock - it was 10am, but the dim light outside made it feel more like 8pm.
I was still trying to process the previous evening; it somehow didn't feel real now that we were back home, like the whole thing was some sort of amazing wet dream.
But real it most certainly was.
I surprised myself - I just felt happy. I figured I'd have some sort of 'comedown', some guilt, maybe even shame. Not a bit of it.
Claire seemed, if anything, even happier with things than me (maybe that's what mind-blowing orgasms do to you?). She seemed more vivacious, more alive, more loving than ever before. Maybe my fantasy had helped our reality become a better version of itself?
"Darling?!"
I heard the call from the hallway before I even heard the door.
"In the kitchen!"
My wife walked into the room, a huge smile lighting up her face, grinning from ear to ear.
"There's the bestest husband in the world!" she said, stooping down to deposit a shopping bag next to the door.
I looked at it, quizzically.
"I thought you were just going to the chemist and then to get some coffee?"
"That was all I was going to get, but then I thought, 'why, doesn't my husband deserve a gift for giving me the best orgasms ever!'?"
"Well," I smiled, coyly looking down at the newspaper in front of me, "I don't think I really had much of a hand in that!"
"Nonsense!" said Claire, reaching into the bag, pulling out a small, black leather box, "This was all your idea! You arranged it all out, you're the one I should thank just as much as..."
She trailed off.
"Your big bull!?" I smiled up at her again.
"Oh my God, it makes my pussy tingle just saying that! My 'bull'!"
She walked over to where I sat, setting the small box down in front of me, on the paper. I looked up at my wife - she was grinning like a schoolgirl who'd just won first prize for her science project.
"This is for me?" I said, touched, rotating the plush box. I couldn't remember the last time she had bought me a gift!
She playfully slapped my shoulder; I made a mock 'ow' face.
"I just told you it was for you, didn't I? I told you I needed to get a gift for the best husband ever!"
My wife moved round behind, hugging me round the waist. I could feel her smiling.
"Well go on then! Open it!"
I pulled the hinged lid up.
Wow!
Inside, nestled in a bed of off-white silk sat a gorgeous, expensive chronograph; a Tag Haeur, no less!
I pulled the thing out of its cradle, turning it, admiring it in the light. It was properly nice.
"Wow, baby! It's gorgeous! I love it, thank you!"
"Go on then, put it on! Let's see how it looks on you."
I took off my old, knackered Casio; farewell, my old friend, you'd served me well.
Fastening the dark brown leather strap, a huge grin on my face, I held my arm up to gaze at it, turning my wrist. Hands down, it was the nicest thing I owned! It was almost as if...
"It's wonderful! Thank you!"
"So you've got something nice for you..." she smiled, a pleading look on her face.
There we go, now I see: bribery.
Utterly pointless bribery - hadn't she worked out how much I'd loved the previous night?! It was all I could do not to set up the next date immediately upon leaving!
"Ha!" I shouted, triumphantly, "I knew it! You want me to set up another date night, don't you?"
She leaned her face into the side of my head, nibbling my ear.
"Don't you want to see me get fucked, to get my little pussy stretched out again on my big bull's cock?"
She reached a hand down to my groin, rubbing my immediate erection.
"Fine," I laughed, trying - and failing - to make it sound like a chore, "we'll get another date pencilled in."
****
"No, sorry, I'm working tomorrow night. How about this weekend, the 17th? ... Yes? ... Perfect, wonderful, we'll see you then!"
I hung up, putting the mobile back down on the counter surface, turning, smiling, to see the expectant look on Claire's beaming face.
"We're all booked in for the weekend!"
She did a little skip for joy.
****
**** Monday morning