Dan and Denise Price crawled under the covers of their bed. Dan wrapped his arms around his wife, spooning her from behind, and hugged her tightly. He gently kissed the back of her neck and slid one of his hands below the sheet, down along her side, to the curvature of her hip. That is when she grabbed his hand and told him to stop.
"It's been a really long day," she said. "I'm exhausted."
Dan sighed heavily and flopped onto his back. "Fine. But just for the record, it's been thirteen days since we had sex."
Now it was Denise's turn to sigh. "What? Are you keeping a diary or something? How do you know that?"
"I keep track."
"That's ridiculous. First, it hasn't been thirteen days. But more importantly, it's really demeaning that you keep track of our sex schedule like that."
"Demeaning? You know what's demeaning? Being treated as if sex is a chore for you. Like it's something you do just to appease me. Check it off your list, knowing that you won't have to do it again for another two weeks!"
"Can you keep your voice down, please?" she whispered. "You had a lot to drink at that barbeque. It probably won't work, anyway."
"Oh, yeah? You wanna try me?"
There was a long hesitation followed by a deep sigh. He felt Denise's hands yanking down his boxer shorts, followed by her warm hand on his cock. She pulled at it as if she were making taffy, stretching it, then rolling it like a ball of dough. Sex with her was so exciting when they first married, but had become a predictable routine after the birth of their first child. Lately, it had devolved into a pitiful handjob like the one he was receiving at that moment.
He tried to concentrate. His mind wandered to Kiersten's hot young body gyrating on the dance floor at the barbeque. It didn't work. The alcohol had won this round. His cock was as lifeless as it was before she began.
"Never mind," he said, tugging his shorts back up.
"Told ya," she said. She was asleep within minutes.
Hours later, Dan glanced at the alarm clock beside his bed, sighed, and flipped over his pillow.
***
On Thursday afternoon, at precisely twelve o'clock, Asha Gupta kneeled at the back door of her house. Her heart beating rapidly, she waited for the inevitable sound of footsteps. She was completely naked with the exceptions of a pair of high-heeled shoes and a red leather dog collar around her neck.
She heard the sound of footsteps, followed by a knock at the door. She opened the door, keeping her head down and her eyes on the floor. As soon as Art Clevinger stepped through the door, she began licking the top of his boots until he patted her head and told her to stop. She then crawled on all fours to the living room and positioned herself on all fours in front of a chair.
Art followed her without saying a word and sat in the chair. Playing on the television before him was his favorite sports channel, and lying next to him on an end table was his favorite sandwich. He took the sandwich off the plate and placed it on the back of the naked woman before him. He then proceeded to eat his meal off her back while watching the highlights from the previous day's games.
He held his sandwich with one hand and used the other to trace a slow and deliberate path with his fingertips from the center of her back, down along the cheeks of her buttocks, and back again. All the while, Asha remained silent and still.
When he finished his meal, he brushed the crumbs off of her back and, without warning, smacked her ass hard, leaving a red welt in the shape of his palm. He delivered another smack to her other cheek, turning both cheeks a crimson red. He sat for a moment and contemplated his next move before rising from his seat and kneeling in front of her head.
He unzipped the fly of his pants and pulled out his stiffening cock. He grabbed a handful of her hair at the back of her head and yanked it up.
"Open," he commanded.
"Yes, Sir," she responded meekly, and opened her mouth wide.
He shoved his cock in her mouth and fucked it, alternating between slow and quick thrusts. He continued fucking her mouth, and considered depositing a load inside of it, but thought of a better option. He withdrew his cock and released her hair. Breathing heavily, she returned her gaze to the floor.
He stood and walked around to the other end of her body, straddled her legs, and inserted his well-lubricated cock deep inside her pussy. She responded with a slight moan, and he smacked her ass and grabbed a handful of her hair as he pumped into her hard and fast. He gave a loud groan and held himself deep inside her, with a handful of hair in one hand and a firmly-clenched ass cheek in the other.
He gave one more hard thrust and then pulled out and stood. He waited patiently as she rose from the footstool and kneeled before him. Knowing precisely what to do, she opened her mouth wide and cleaned his tool until he was satisfied. As she kneeled before him, cum dripped onto the floor from her pussy. She was still licking it off the floor when he departed through the same door from which he arrived.
***
Dan checked his text messages once again. Exasperated, he threw his hands into the air and pulled the pan out of the oven. He shouted to his children to come to dinner as he set the pan on the table.
"Where's Mom?" Alex asked as he sat in his usual chair at the table.
"That's a good question, buddy," Dan responded. "I've been trying to reach her, but she isn't responding."
Holly asked the same question and received the same answer once she took her seat at the table. Just as they began to dig in to their meals, the front door opened and Denise appeared. She was dressed in professional business attire and seemed exhausted. She set down her tote bag with an exasperated groan and joined her family at the table, wearing a forced smile.
"Sorry I'm late," she said.
"I tried texting you," Dan said.
She looked confused for a moment and checked her phone. "Oh, I didn't feel the vibration," she explained. "You know I don't like to text when I'm driving."
"Bad day at the office?" he asked as she loaded her plate.
"Not bad. Just long. And traffic was absolutely ridiculous, as usual." They ate in silence for a moment as she seemed lost in thought. "How was your day?" she asked at last.
"The usual," Dan responded. "Housework, cooking, taking care of the kids. You know, typical house husband stuff."
Denise shook her head. She had heard this lament before, many times. "You'll be back to work again in no time," she consoled him. "It's just gonna take some time." She turned to Alex and asked about his day.
"It was good," he said. "Mostly just played video games. Dad and I had a catch in the backyard. He's taking me to the field tomorrow for some batting practice."
"That's good," she said.
Before she could ask, Holly spoke. "Kiersten asked me to go to the movies with her on Friday. Is that okay, Mom?"
"What does your father say?" Denise asked.
"It's fine with me," Dan responded with a mouthful of food.
"Then it's fine with me, too," Denise responded. "Oh, I almost forgot. The company needs me to attend a meeting in San Diego on Monday and Tuesday. We'll need to fly in on Sunday and stay for a couple of nights."
"We?" Dan asked.
Denise nodded. "Yeah, it's just me and Andrew."
She was too busy eating to notice his expression of annoyance.
***
"Okay, get into a nice, balanced stance, Alex," Dan said. He stood on the pitcher's mound on a little league-sized baseball diamond. At the plate stood his son, Alex. His neighbor Bill, and his son, Matt, were out in the field, prepared to catch whatever was hit their way. Unfortunately for Alex, they hadn't seen much action.
Dan reached into the bucket of balls at his feet and gently tossed a pitch over the plate. Alex swung and missed. Pitch after pitch eluded Alex's bat, and the frustration on both the father's and son's faces was evident.
"Let me give it a try," Bill suggested, tapping Dan on the shoulder with his mitt. "Now, Alex, just take a deep breath, okay? Relax. Now this time, I want you to try swinging a little less hard. Just a nice and easy, level swing. Got it?"
Alex nodded. The next pitch sailed across the plate and Alex finally met the ball with the barrel of the bat, sending a line drive into the outfield.
"You're a miracle worker!" Dan exclaimed, shaking his head.
"Nah, it's just that he was pulling his head out of the box," Bill responded. "I see kids do it all the time. They swing so hard, they pull their head away from their body. By the time they finish their swing, they're looking down the third base line. You can't see what you can't hit."
After tossing a few more pitches, Bill asked Matt if he wanted to take a turn on the mound. Perhaps in an effort to impress his new neighbor, Matt threw his first pitch with a little too much velocity. Alex tried to turn away from it, but there wasn't enough time, and it hit him squarely in the center of his back.
Dan rushed to the plate, followed closely by Bill and Matt. Alex lay in the dirt, writhing in pain. His eyes welled with tears, but he bravely fought to maintain his composure.
"I'm sorry, Alex!" Matt shouted. "I didn't mean it!"
"I know you didn't, Matt," Dan reassured him as he rubbed his son's back. "You got a hell of an arm, there!"
"Yeah, but he chose the wrong time to show it off," Bill said, glaring at his son.
"You'll be okay," Dan reassured his son. "Just be tough. Shake it off and get back up there."
"Nuh-uh," Alex said. "I'm all done."
"Okay," Dan said, "I guess you earned a little break."
As Alex hobbled toward the bench, Bill pulled Dan aside. "It's none of my business, but I think he should get back in the box for at least one more pitch. It's like falling off a bicycle. You don't want him to be scared of stepping in that box again."
Dan looked to his son sitting on the bench with his head in his hands. "He'll be okay. He's a tough kid."
Following the practice session, Bill drove his new neighbors back to their house. As Dan was exiting the vehicle, Bill told him, "If you're gonna be my assistant coach in the fall, we should have a little 'coaching session' at the bar sometime. You know, to develop a practice plan."
