Blowjobs and coffee-for the past five years that was how every Sunday had started. I sat across the table with my mocha listening to Katie describe, in detail, her adventures from the previous two nights. The slight throbbing between my legs made it a little difficult to differentiate between Friday night's quickie with the guy at the bookstore and Saturday's fling with the bartender.
"So how about you and Dick?" asked Katie after leaving me, yet again, questioning my own distinctly unadventurous existence.
As we made our way toward the exit I thought back to the day before, picturing the two of us at Applebee's—me with the strongest drink I could convince them to serve me, him sipping a diet coke with that self-righteous look he always got when he made sure everyone knew he never drank alcohol.
"Oh...we just had a pretty quiet night."
Katie just looked at me sympathetically; trying not to ask, yet again, why I had gotten engaged to a man whose idea of a good time was leaving the lights on when we had sex. I tried not to let her see the jealousy on my face as I defended my fiance's well-meaning, if uninspired, advances. Katie gave me a sympathetic smile and a hug before getting into her car to set off on what was sure to be another day filled with wanton abandon and multiple orgasms.
I walked into our apartment fully intending to make use of the tingly feeling Katie's stories always gave me. I sauntered over to the armchair with my sexiest expression and leaned provocatively toward Dick. Tearing his eyes from an old 'Behind the Music', he asked, "Did you hurt your leg or something?" Not to be defeated, I trailed a finger down his stomach to the waistband of his jeans. Scanning his face and the front of his pants for any sort of reaction left me disappointed on both fronts.
"Do you want to have sex?" he asked with his eyes again glued to the TV.
I kissed his neck, murmuring my assent. He turned the TV off and walked toward the bedroom. As I entered behind him he had begun untying his shoes before placing them neatly in the closet. I sat next to him and started gently rubbing the bulge beneath his zipper.
"Do you want to take a shower first, or should I?" he said matter-of-factly.
After a thorough washing, I returned to the bedroom to find him already naked and lying beneath the comforter. I slid between the covers and moved up against him. Dick immediately pushed my hand toward his half erect penis while he pawed at my breast. After about 2 minutes of fondling, he slipped one finger inside me and wiggled it for about 30 seconds before climbing on top of me and shoving his lackluster namesake into my pussy. He pumped away for a couple of minutes, grunting and breathing right into my ear, then stiffened briefly before rolling off of me.
And so it was over. I don't ask for a lot, but would it kill him try going down on me? In the three years of our relationship I had never felt his tongue anywhere but my mouth. I was left with fantasies of a hot mouth on my cunt, teeth grazing my clit. I don't think Dick knows what a clit is.
Trying to muster a false sense of enthusiasm for the preceding moments of 'passion', I heard my phone go off next to the bed. I reached into the pocket of my jeans feeling more excited about the phone call than the man next to me. It was difficult to make out any words through the sobbing on the other end, but eventually I understood that Katie, my loveable,exhibitionist, hyper-sexual best friend, was gone.
