It was a miserably hot, humid Saturday afternoon in the upper midwest. For various reasons, my day started off like shit and only got worse. I looked into the backyard and realized the grass had turned into a hayfield, and with the forecasted summer storms approaching, I knew I had to mow the lawn, or my mower would never get through it once the storms passed.
The kids were out of the house, and my wife was working on projects around the house; I was on my own. I went to the shed, and of course, the mower was out of gas. Eventually, I got it started and took to mowing. The mower bounced around the lawn, making it hard to control. I heard a huge *clang!* as I drove over one of the dog's bones buried in the grass. I was getting more and more pissed off at the world. I took a break to come inside and get a drink.
"How's it going, dear?" my wife asked from the living room.
"Don't ask," I replied. "It's not going well."
She knew I was grumpy, and when I get grumpy, she does her best to stay out of my way. Once I calm down, I'm fine—but if I'm upset, I have a hair trigger, and little things will set me off.
I finished my glass of iced tea and stood in the kitchen for a few minutes enjoying the A/C. Then I ventured out the back door into the inferno that was the Wisconsin summer to finish my task.
As the mower jumped and bounced around the grass, occasionally bogging down when it hit some of the thicker patches of grass, I felt myself getting more and more pissed off. I knew I needed to calm down, but the job was almost over. So I finished up, pushed the mower back into the shed, and started to make my way back inside. That's when I saw my lab wander in the dog door and, at the same time, felt the squish of a freshly laid landmine that all dog owners are familiar with.
"You have got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath.
I kicked my shoes off on the deck, intending to deal with the cleanup later. At that point, I had had enough. I just wanted to go inside, grab a beer and a shower, and be done for the day.
I came inside and slammed the door.
"Problems?"
"I just want this day to be over."
I went to the fridge, grabbed a beer out of the door, and popped the top. Leaning on the edge of the kitchen table, I took a long swig, attempting to calm myself down before I went in and sat with my wife for a bit.
I heard a rustling in the living room, and all of a sudden, my wife came into the kitchen with a certain gleam in her eye. She walked up to me, got up on her tippy toes, wrapped her arms around me, and gave me a big bear hug. Her breasts felt wonderful as they pressed against my chest through my sweaty shirt.
"Can I make your day better?" she whispered into my ear.
Now, my wife and I have a decent sex life. It's usually plain-jane; not too adventurous, but good. We mix up positions, and we both enjoy ourselves fully. Spontaneous sex in the middle of the day wasn't typical. But I was in such a foul mood, and with the kids gone, I felt due for a little cheering up.
"Mm-hmm," I replied, caressing her back. My lips found hers, and we kissed passionately, tongues swirling. I put my hand on the back of her head and pulled her closer, kissing her harder.
She let out a deep moan as I felt her hand drop to my thigh and fumble to find my cock through my cargo shorts. I was already hard as a rock, and she grabbed onto me and started stroking me through the layers of fabric.
We kept kissing as my palms started wandering across her body. I slid one hand up the back of her shirt and quickly released her bra. Then both hands made their way to her fabulous tits, and as I slid my fingers between the cups of her bra and her breasts, I could feel her rock-hard nipples. Luckily, I have a wife with very sensitive nipples, and I know how to drive her crazy with just a touch. I took a nipple between my fingers and squeezed and twisted it gently.
My wife stopped kissing me long enough to mutter an erotic, "Oh, fuck..." before clamping her lips on mine again. Her stroking took on a new urgency, and I knew there was no stopping her. She didn't want to make love. She wanted to fuck.
As she pulled away from my grip, I could see the lust in her eyes. Grabbing the bottom of my sweat-soaked shirt, she pulled it over my head. Then she traced her finger down my chest and found my belt buckle. As she undid my belt, she pulled me forward so that I was standing up. Quickly, she unbuttoned my shorts, pulled my zipper down, and slid my shorts and boxers down to the floor. I kicked them off across the kitchen floor and leaned back on the table.
My wife knew what she wanted and wasn't wasting any time. she dropped to her knees, my rock hard cock inches from her waiting mouth. It was drooling precum, and she stuck her tongue out for a taste. She grabbed onto it and pointed it skyward against my belly, then drug her flat tongue hard against my shaft, from my balls to the tip. This woman gives mind-blowing blowjobs, and I couldn't wait.
Both her hands went behind my ass as she enveloped me in her hot, wet mouth, burying her nose in my pubes. I gasped at the sensation. She began sucking my cock fast and deep, and I grabbed the side of her head to help her along. One of her hands joined in, keeping time with her mouth.
I knew I wouldn't last long, and as much as I would have loved to explode in her mouth, I wanted to have my way with her. So I pulled her head off me, her mouth releasing me with an audible *pop*, and she looked up at me.
"Everything ok, babe?" she asked with a coy little smirk, still stroking me.
"If you don't stop, I'm going to cum," I responded.
"Then, cum."
"Oh, I plan on it." I shot her an evil smile.
I took her hand and stood her up. When I slid her T-shirt off, her bra fell to the floor. I leaned in and kissed her hard as I unsnapped her shorts and slid them down her hips. Then my hand went to her inner thigh, my fingers gliding up towards her panty-covered pussy. I could smell her sex, and my cock twitched in anticipation.
