Just a Friday Night

I was sitting on the sofa watching the television, still in my work clothes, my tie pulled loose and already a rumpled mess. It was the weekend, who cared. I had all of next week to worry about work. I hummed, flipping channels. My wife, Laura, came from the kitchen to join me, sitting on the ground next to my legs, her back against the sofa. She shook her head when I place a hand on the seat next to me, saying she would have to get back up soon to get the laundry.

Together, we watched the television in silence. I sighed, content. It was the Friday night, I was home, cold beer in hand, with my gorgeous wife at my feet. Could life get any better? Laura's head leaned against the side of my knee, warm through the leg of my pants. I reached down, my hand tangling itself in the my wife's mass of dirty blonde curls, fingers twisting into the strands at the base of her neck as the scent of her shampoo wafted up to me. Floral, a little musky. Feminine. In response, my wife turned her head to look at me, giving me a brief smile before looking back at the television, laughing at something that was happening.

A commercial came on, flashing a new advertisement for some kind of laundry detergent. Laura turned around to face me, flipping her body around, sitting back on her knees in between my own legs. Her hazel eyes sparkled mischievously. "How was your day, honey?" she asked, looking up at me as she lay her head down against the inside of my thigh. I told her about our new project, my progress, the meeting I'd led earlier in the day and she listened, nodding and murmuring along, her attention completely devoted to me as she gazed up at me smiling, her head pressed against my right thigh. All the while, her hand found my left knee and was tracing lazy circles up my other thigh. Her fingernails scratched lightly at my skin through the fabric of my pants as they made their way up the inside of my thigh and my breath hitched mid-story. Her hand found its way to my crotch and her fingers began lightly stroking me over my pants, feather-light movements up and down.

I had stopped talking altogether a while ago now, my breathing a little ragged as I focused completely on what she was doing to me. She made up for my silence, innocently chatting about her own day as her naughty hand nonchalantly stroked at my hardness . From here, I could see straight down the V-neck of her white sweater to her black bra and the creamy globes of her 32DD breasts moving up and down with her every breath.

She was unzipping my pants, reaching through them, and then my boxers to grasp my cock. I shifted my hips, helping her pull the waist down, resisting the urge to immediately thrust my hardness into her face. She was in control here, not me. I felt myself getting even harder as I relinquished that power to her.

Her hand was wrapped around my cock now, silky smooth despite her firm grip as she pumped me. She brought herself up to her knees, kneeling to better reach me, her lips coming forward to kiss my shaft. "I missed you today," she murmured huskily as she nuzzled my shaft with her face. "So, so, so much" she said, her lips closing around the head of my penis.

I groaned as her warm mouth encased the head of my penis, its soft wetness enveloping it. Her tongue circled around the tip, expertly stroking at the underside of the head, where I was most sensitive, as her hand continued to pump my length. My fingers clenched into her golden hair, my wife gave the most amazing blow jobs I'd ever had, and I loved it when she surprised me like this. She moved her mouth lower, taking in all of me as her other hand reached up to lightly cup my balls. She moaned as she deep throated me, the vibrations bringing me closer to cumming, her fingers deftly continued massaging my sac. Her eyes, dark with lust, stared into mine as she moved her head back and forth over my cock, sliding herself up and down my length. My hands reached down to squeeze her breasts, through her tight white sweater and she moaned again, sitting up straighter to push them further into my hands. Her ass stuck out behind her, round and perky in the air, her skirt hitched up around her waist.I could faintly see her tight cunt in the reflection of the TV screen, which was still on, but long forgotten. I felt my balls and my chest tightening, I was so close to cumming, but I didn't want this to end, the endless warm wetness of her mouth felt so good. Watching my wife's petite, tight body arching up to meet me, please me, brought me even closer to the edge.

"Bzzzzz!" The laundry machine went off with a loud buzz.

She came up off my cock, her mouth sliding off my penis with an audible pop as she sat up. "Oh, I should--" she was cut off by my guttural moan as I grabbed her head, and pushed my cock past her lips, back into the warm wetness of her mouth. I began moving her head, slamming her down on me again and again. I felt her tongue begin to move, massaging my head. Her hands came up as she cupped her breasts for me, pulling down the neck of her sweater so they hung free, her fingers squeezing the soft tissue and circling over her nipples, pink and hard. She began moaning into my cock, sensing how close I was to release. I was thrusting my hips into her face hard, holding her head still between my hands. Her eyes stared up at me, tears framing their corners, but I could feel her sucking me down harder than ever, her mouth showing her approval as her tongue lavished me.

With a final tug, I pulled her nose to touch my groin, her lips covering me fully as I pumped out my cum into her hot mouth. I could feel her throat working to swallow all of it, some of it dripping out past her lips and down her chin. She licked me clean, her tongue tracing the lines of my penis, bringing me back to half hardness. With a content sigh, she pulled herself up to sitting on my lap, her bare ass rubbing itself against me. She brought a finger to her chin, wiping up what cum had escaped there before popping it back into her mouth and slurping loudly at it. She leaned her body against mine, arms wrapping around my neck, her face snuggling into the space between my neck and shoulder as she sighed contentedly.

"Did you like that?" she asked shyly, her eyes looking away from me, down to my chest and she traced nervous circles around my heart. My response was a deep kiss, hand below her chin, bringing her gaze up to reach mine as I brushed my lips against her. I intensified the pressure, her tongue submitting to my dominance as I invaded her mouth.

My hand traced its way down the front of her body, circling around her curves and over the smoothness of her stomach to settle lightly at her mound. I could already feel her wetness dripping onto my lap. "Mmm, wait..." she moaned, "I should really get the laundry before--". Whatever she meant to say next was lost to squeals and moans as I plunged three fingers into her, curling to find her g-spot as my thumb rubbed across the hard nub of her clit. My other hand wrapped around her body to cup a breast, holding her tight to my chest as my hands explored her and she wriggled with pleasure against my cock, moaning desperately as my fingers plunged in and out of her wetness.

I sighed, content. It was the Friday night, I was home, a dripping pussy wrapped tight around my hand, with my gorgeous wife naked in my lap. Could life get any better?