Lazy Sunday Afternoon

On a recent Sunday afternoon, we'd slept late, got up, had our coffee. He'd gotten dressed while I was still in my pi's. We talked about what fun we'd had last night, a nice dinner with friends, a little too much wine, and when we got home we both felt so warm we had to relieve the tension.

We didn't do anything too special, just husband and wife doing what we're meant to do for fun. He performed admirably and I'd shown him a good time, too, so we both slept peacefully all tangled up until I woke up, poked him over to his side, and got my jammies on. I remember smiling at him before we went to sleep. He is a good husband.

Anyway, it is our habit to talk about the physical side of our marriage on Sunday afternoons. We try to plan our 'interactions' for the week. It's a lot of fun, but it's serious, too. We discuss how things have been going, what we liked, what we didn't. Relationship issues are off the table, though - this is about sex. We negotiate, you see. Anything can go into the discussion except physical touching - we can give gifts to help things along, but we can't touch. We've learned to enjoy anticipation - waiting for it seems to enhance the pleasure.

"Last night, you took good care of me, boy. Thank you."

He smiled and said, "You were so hot by the time we got home. It's catching, you know."

"I don't know what it was - dinner was fine, but all during the dinner, I just ... wanted you."

He laughed, "I couldn't tell. You seemed a bit quiet, now that I think about it?"

I pulled my pj top closed, "That was lust. I just kept it to myself, at least 'til we got home."

We laughed together, another memory stored away against the winter.

"What about next week?" He's always so anxious, he starts first.

"Well, we already know you get to have me Sunday any way you want me."

"Oh, yes, I'd not remembered..."

"LIAR, you've been looking forward to this for a long time," I swatted him playfully. He caught my hand.

"Now, now, you know the rule. NO touching." I snatched it back.

"Okay. What do you want this week. Can you wait 'til Sunday?"

I pulled my pajama top open, "The question is, can YOU wait 'til Sunday?"

I think he drooled. It's really not fair to show him his playground. I closed the top back.

"Thanks. I think I can wait, no, well, there's one thing I've been meaning to ask you..."

Playfully, I said, "Anything, baby. I'll just wait 'til Sunday, but I'll be teasing you all week like that."

He looked so serious, "I'd like you to get me off with your hand."

"A hand job? That seems so ... simple. So like we were still dating."

"See - you agree it's been a long time. I'd like you to tease me, torture me, you know?"

I grinned, "I bet I could give you one that you'd beg me to repeat in a week or two."

The serious look again. "I'm always scared when I think I've aroused your imagination..."

"Hey, I need to go shopping first. Give me 'til 5, tonight. Two conditions and you can have your hand job this very afternoon."

"Okay, but what are the conditions?"

"When I get home at five, sharp, you are to be naked, waiting on me. Kneel by the door."

"But you'll be late...."

"Hush, it'll be worth waiting for. I want to see red spots on your knees. If you're not hard when I come in, you don't love me."

"Can I ...?"

"NO, don't touch it 'til I get back. I want to see it in it's natural state when anticipating me."

This is utterly silly, but I think it's fun to play, don't you? We naturally drop into these roles and I think we pretty much take turns. It seems even, anyway.

"What's the other condition?"

"After this, no sex 'til Sunday. You'll be in charge, but I want you full and swollen when you begin. I want all your juice this week."

"How will you tell if I cheated, I mean, with myself, of course?"

"You don't know it, but the longer you go between ejaculations, the bigger your thing is when we make love. I'll be able to tell, also, because when you come in me (or on me) it'll be big. Copious, I mean. I love the feeling when..."

"Okay, I can do that. What about you? Are you going to go behind my back this week and, you know...?"

"You can say 'masturbate', silly, it won't hurt my feelings or cause me to swoon. The answer is 'Yes', but I won't do it behind your back - you'll be watching me come all week. You just can't join me in the fun. You're officially being teased."

"That's not fair. Can I touch you?"

"When I say so, yes, but neither of us can touch your thing. That stays mine all week."

"Deal. Run on - see you at five."

I needed some shoes and I'd seen some on sale in the paper. That was my real reason for going out. He'd just watch football or something.

I showered, dressed, and left on my errands. I'd thought of some things to enhance the experience I planned for him this afternoon.

When I returned, I went to the front door and turned the key, not knowing what I would find. To my surprise, he was waiting by the front door, nude and kneeling just as I had directed. He couldn't see the big smile on my face, though, because he had blindfolded himself.

"Very good, very, very good!" I said. I kept the surprise from my voice since I wished the tone of our encounter to be based on his willingness to do what I'd said and to continue doing what I ordered.

He remained silent, keeping the passive, compliant tone he knew I wanted.

"You can take off the blindfold, now, I want you to see me."

He removed the blindfold and stared in surprise.

I'd had my hair cut short in a way he'd remember from when we first met. It was bobbed in the back, not too severely, but it uncovered my neck. He loved my hair cut that way, but he'd not said anything while I'd grown it out the past couple of years. I knew he couldn't wait 'til next Sunday to kiss the side and back of my neck.

Only, he'd have to wait according to our agreement.

I'd had my nails done and the new tips made them a bit longer than he was used to - I normally reserved the brilliant scarlet polish for special occasions but I hoped he'd enjoy watching my fingers and nails moving up and down over his favorite organ. Our unspoken agreement was red nails for a dressy, special occasion - but always, sex afterwards. Another trigger. His eyes widened in anticipation.

I tilted my head to expose the large gold loops in my ears - another purchase this afternoon. He associated large simple round hoops with the first time we'd made love and I wore them infrequently and only when I wanted his intimate attention. The larger the hoop, the more I needed him.

These were the largest I'd ever bought.

These things wouldn't mean anything to anyone else if you saw me out in public, but for the two of us, I was telling him wifey needed the special attention only he could provide. No, we never talk about these things.

They're understood.

So, I was sending all the signals to arouse him, but he'd have to be satisfied with my hands.

Primarily.

I marched him upstairs, watching his cute little butt ahead of me. In our bedroom, I had him lay back on the bed.

"Put your head on the pillow so you can watch."

He used two pillows to get a great view. His erection was substantial by now in anticipation of an unusual experience.

"Aren't you going to undress?" he asked.

"Hand job, remember?" I wiggled my fingers in front of him. "What you see is what you get."

His penis strained at the air, bobbing without either of us moving it. The veins stood out with excitement and I could see his pulse if I looked hard enough. Erect in this posture, he curved back away from me. I fondled his balls with my nails, the lightest touch possible, eliciting a moan. He likes it!

I began stroking the shaft with the backs of my fingers, gently, slowly teasing him. I mixed focusing on the object of my caresses with flirty looks at his eyes. As I stroked him, I leaned over and gave him a little kiss, just on the tip. My tongue teased his opening apart and I fucked into him, then gently suckled on just the head.

A little suck which became a little nibble. His eyes closed in pleasure, followed by another moan.

I ran my tongue all over the head, using my nails to caress the shaft. Up. Down. Repeat. Again. Again.

I tongued him thoroughly up one side, then down. Now the top. Now the other side.

Now, underneath. I know just the right places. We've practiced, you see.

I slipped some lube on my hands and then grasped him firmly with my fingers and palm and stroked up and down. Up and down.

So slowly. Tickling with just the tip of my tongue, I worked the head all over, keeping my hands moving. Up. Down. Switching hands, the top to the bottom, the bottom to the top.

The silky precum covered the head. I rubbed it in with my palm, then licked it off, my eyes communicating my excitement to his. He's staring at me, overcome with pleasure, still fascinated at the woman he loves attending to him so carefully. I wanted to leap atop him, to put him in me, to ride endlessly on this dick belonging to my husband, to...

But no, that's not our agreement.

Another moan. I so love this man.

I re-started the relentless jacking of the shaft, closed my eyes and bent over to lick his balls. They're so sensitive and he loves this. I slowly sucked one into my mouth, tongued it all over, then released it and pulled on the other. So gently, savoring the flavor. Always maintaining the hand motion.

Now, I began modulating the pressure as I stroked, the scarlet nails dancing before his eyes. With one hand free, I used the other to untie the camisole at the back of my neck and while he stared, I dropped the top to expose my breasts. His favorite playground in view, I leaned up and surrounded his cock with them. Capturing the soaking wet cock between my tits, I stroked him up and down. Up and down. My nipples stood out with my excitement. His sounds were now continuous.

I reached one hand down and began tickling his balls while the other took up the rhythm, focusing on the top end just under the head.

I worked a finger into his anus and thrust it in suddenly. I was rewarded with a giant ejaculation and a cry of ecstasy from my husband. I wiggled my finger around and generated yet another jet of sticky-warm fluid covering the head of his cock. I leaned over and my eyes caught on his, vacuumed it up while he watched and I watched him.

I climbed over him and held my fingers in front of his mouth, "Lick them off."

He did, taking each finger and making love to it with his lips and tongue.

Once he got me all clean, I said, "Now I'll clean you." I reversed my body position over his to take him into my mouth and lick his cock clean. I reached behind me and pulled my skirt up.

Of course, this presented my bottom to his face. It seems he was pleased I hadn't worn panties today. His hands found my hips and brought me down to his creative mouth.

Creative..., and imaginative..., and above all, grateful.

I told you he is a good husband.