Shelly Hates to Wait

Shelly had started it, but she almost regretted it now. Teasing her husband was one thing, and being teased back was okay, but it had been nearly two full hours since she'd hit the plateau of needing to do something about it, and she was getting antsy. She could tell that Paul was feeling the same.

Shelly was thirty-eight and her husband Paul was forty-five. They had been married for seventeen years and, while they sometimes fought like a 1940's radio show couple, they were still very much in love. Paul was a sweet, thoughtful husband, and Shelly would do anything for him. He was a singer song-writer, but had never gotten the exposure needed to make a living out of it. Even though she had wanted to be a stay-at-home mom for their two kids, she had instead taken on selling real estate so that he only needed part time work and could still keep chasing his dream.

Neither of them was the gorgeous young creature they had been when they'd married, but the bedroom side of their relationship was never lacking because of it. Shelly was a little taller than average, tan and curvy. She had short, blonde hair and sharp brown eyes. There were a few smile lines at the corners of those ones, and there was a little extra weight on her figure, but Paul always told her she looked even sexier than ever. Paul himself was a little shorter than average for a man, had a little bit of his own middle age weight, and his hair was thinning. Still, he had a smile that could charm Shelly into doing just about anything, and when his hands were dancing on guitar strings they were the most attractive thing she'd ever seen.

The only frustration in their love life was that their work schedules and their active teenage kids kept them frequently apart until they were both too exhausted to explore physical expressions of their love. This weekend was supposed to be all theirs; the kids were away on a youth group trip. It was going to be all them. They'd taken off work Saturday and Sunday just to make sure.

And then Shelly's in-laws had stopped by to take them out on Saturday.

They were very sweet, and Shelly and Paul both accepted their offer, albeit with pangs of regret.

Paul dressed in a light grey suit that was probably not stylish, but which framed his body well. Shelly wore a purple dress that she had purchased off the rack at a discount store, but it showed her off nicely. Neither was disappointed in the other's appearance.

Shelly took it on herself to make sure that Paul didn't forget what was in store for him later. The whole car ride she teased him. At first, she drew the hem of her dress far up her legs. Then she let her hand dance around casually on his lap. Then she turned in her seat, spreading her legs and twisting her hips until he could get a glimpse up her raised dress, of the black velvet panties in which her womanhood was nestled comfortably.

Finally, she whispered in his ear, "I could probably put my head in your lap and give you a blowjob right now, and they'd never know."

But she wasn't that much of a risk-taker. Instead, she settled for leaving her husband hard inside his suit pants. She smiled with self-satisfaction. Now, no matter how long and dull the evening might be, she knew Paul wouldn't forget the primary attraction of the evening.

What she didn't count on was Paul playing back a little while later by inching the hem of her dress up under the table in the restaurant and then whispering to her, "I could probably drop a spoon and eat you from under the table without them having a having a clue."

The thought was naughty and impossible, but it still aroused Shelly, though she was also a bit frustrated at being given her own treatment. She got her own revenge by taking advantage of the time both parents were using the restroom to tug a little on the neckline of her dress and give her husband a pretty good cleavage shot. A waiter noticed too, and almost dropped his tray. Shelly was suddenly mortified by her unaccustomed boldness.

But Paul was turned on, and he showed her just how much by quietly unzipping and giving her a peak under the table at his semi-rigid manhood. They both blushed with equal parts embarrassment and excitement. It was all Shelly could do to stop herself from reaching over and jacking him off even as his parents chatted with them over dessert.

Now, as they piled back into the car, they were both so turned on they were jumpy. As Shelly's in-laws began to drive, Shelly and Paul's eyes were locked, fire burning in their shared gaze. Their fingers stole what little touches they could sneak. There was no certainty that they would make it to the bedroom once they were back home. Neither had been this on edge for sex in quite a while. It was a welcome feeling.

Until Paul noticed that they were going a strange way, that they were further south in town than they needed to be. "Where are we going, Dad?" he asked, trying to force the tension in his voice to morph into something more casual. He kept his eyes on his wife's.

"Thought we'd go back to our place and play some cards."

Shelly's face was not pleased. She mouthed the word, "No."

"Not sure Shelly's up to it tonight, Dad, and to be honest I've got a bit of a headache myself," Paul said, trying to negotiate their freedom. "We'd probably rather just go home and go to bed."

"Nonsense," Paul's mom said. "You two can just take a little nap in our bed. I'm sure you'll be all better."

"Well, if we can use your bed for a little, we'll probably be okay," Shelly decided.

Paul's eyes flashed, but he said nothing.

When they got to the house there were plenty of pleasantries, but as quickly as they could, Shelly and Paul found their way to the bedroom and locked the door. As soon as they had, Shelly began removing her dress, but Paul was slower to move.

"Are you sure about this?"

Shelly was wasting no time. Her dress was already off. "Look at my panties and tell me I'm not sure."

"What?" Paul looked. She was incredibly wet. "Oh. But it's my parent's bed," he whispered. "Isn't that a little weird?"

"Then we can use their floor or their dresser," Shelly insisted, as her bra dropped to the floor. "I'm not waiting any longer."

"What if they hear us?"

Shelly's panties were off. She sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing the heel of one of her shoes up and down her damp crease. "I've never gotten off with a shoe, but if you don't join this party soon, Paul, I swear to God I will."

"I don't want to have to worry about leaving a mess while we're having sex."

Grunting and grimacing, Shelly pulled the heel up inside her. She growled a little with pleasure once it was settled in, stretching her opening and pressing against her g-spot. "Babe, I am not even slightly concerned about whether or not I make a mess." She began moving the heel in and out. "God, baby, if you want a part of this you'd better hurry up and get in here."

Arousal finally trumping common sense and personal ethics, Paul gave in and undressed as quickly as she had. He was hard almost as soon as his pants were off.

"That's what I'm talking about," Shelly remarked with satisfaction, casting the heel to the side, after licking her juices off it. She lay back; her legs still off the end of the bed, and spread her thighs. "Come to mamma, you big strong butterfly."

Paul knelt between her legs and penetrated her. She was so warm and wet that it took almost no effort at all. It had been long enough since their last good session, though, that she was nice and tight inside.

"My god," Paul groaned as he moved his hips back and forth, adding as much thrust as possible with his lower back. "I always forget just good you feel."

Shelly's head rolled from side to side, her eyes closed. She was in heaven. Her husband felt so good inside her. This was when she remembered that they were married. That they were truly one person. The man she loved was actually inside her. Her body was wrapped around his. It was overwhelming.

Her right hand idly teased her own clit and her left tugged and twisted her nipples until they were hard. That was mostly to give Paul something hot to look at it. Playing with her own breasts wasn't that exciting for Shelly, but Paul's reaction to it always was. This was no exception, as it made her husband ramp up his intensity and try to strike deeper wells.

Paul gripped his wife's hips and pulled her more tightly against him. Shelly drew her legs up and threw them over his shoulders. He pressed even closer, bending them back a little, and giving himself the deepest possible penetration.

His stroked were unimaginably hard, even from his knees. Every thrust rocked her body. Soon, Shelly was gripping at the the bedspread as if her life depended on it.

Every thrust was hard and deep, as if Paul could see her end in sight was desperately trying to drive her there. She abandoned herself to the pleasure of that drive. She'd had sex with probably a dozen guys before they married, but she'd never once had an orgasm until Paul. She still found the experience terrifying, as she climbed that rollercoaster and the endorphins built with anticipation, but with Paul she had trust, and she could really let herself go.

As soon as she was at the top of the rollercoaster, her body involuntarily hunched forward. Paul knew what it meant, and he drove straight into her g-spot.

Shelly insides trembled, her abs spasmed, and she made a terrifying series of choking gasps as her body blew forth a near geyser of warm fluids. She didn't squirt every time, and it didn't add any pleasure per se, but there was something very satisfying about the strong physical release of fluids. Paul always seemed excited by being showered with her ejaculation, so that made it worthwhile too.

She wanted more, though. It had been too long, with too much build-up. "Don't stop," she begged. "Not yet. Keep going."

No longer concerned with decorum or whether any of this was smart, Paul pushed his wife and rolled her over so that she was on all four on his own parents' bed. She held herself up, breasts hanging down, back arched only slightly. He caressed her hips, and then smacked her cheeks lightly before plunging back in. This was all about going hard and fast, and his power would have felt almost brutal, did she not know the power originated in his desire to for her to feel as good as she possibly could.

Her arms couldn't hold up for too long, and soon her face was planted in the bed. He thrust rapidly, in and out, using his grip on her hips to keep things aligned and in sync. He hammered her g-spot repeatedly, and soon she was gasping as she climbed the rollercoaster again.

"Let it all go," he panted. "Just let yourself feel it."

Shelly did just that and was soon squirting again, her womanhood spraying like an upside down geyser, soaking Paul's body and the bedspread beneath them.

As soon as she was able, Shelly rolled to her back and pressed her breasts together. They were not huge, but they were large enough and soft enough that Paul loved sliding himself between them. The act itself was not especially exciting to Shelly, but her husband's pleasure made it worth every moment.

His erection was thoroughly lubed with his own precum and all her juices, so Paul pressed it through the two mounds of flesh and began stroking back and forth as his wife squeezed them together. The soft, yielding pressure on his completely aroused manhood was deeply sensuous a nasal grunt signaled that he was finally getting close to his own release. Shelly smiled at him, mouth open, and giggled, "Give me everything you've got," before sliding her tongue out to its full extension.

His first shot hit right on that tongue, and the rest fell on the bed on her chest.

Spent and, at least partly, satisfied, the two rolled into a gentle embrace and kissed softly.

It was Shelly who finally said, "I think we made a mess of your parents' bed."

They both laughed and smiled, not caring about the embarrassment that was to come when they had to explain.