Taken Or Given

Taken or Given

Marcus had cum and rolled over; I was exasperated.

Yet again he never touched my boobs, his couple of kisses seemed forced, not intimate, not passionate; more a requirement that he should do to pacify me. It's a wonder I'm aroused, usually I'm not.

I did get aroused; near the time he came; I'm lying here legs spread, horny as fuck, and he's about to fall asleep.

I laid there listening to his breathing as he drifting off into slumberland, so I started playing with myself.

I pulled my tits to my mouth; my tongue tip has been able to flick my hard nipples since I developed in high school. I continued flicking my left nipple and my right hand went to my vulva; Marcus's jism has my pussy well lubricated. I brought some of his sticky, salty, semen to my lips, I always did enjoy that taste, especially when mixed with my flavor.

It only took a few delicate strokes along my labia to have me ready, my breathing changed, eyes closed, fantasy focused on the tingling in my twat.

I wiggled my bean and completed the deed Marcus didn't, a deep sigh as my fingers grazed my clit and edged my labia.

I guess I was too focused on getting myself off, I hadn't noticed Marcus move. He was on his side, one elbow bent so his head was resting on his hand, staring wide eyed at me, I couldn't readily identify his expression, he showed no joy. Somewhere between fear and concern, quizzical and pain.

We didn't speak, he made a huffing sound, mumbled something under his breath, and rolled over, giving me the cold shoulder.

I laid there wondering what happened between us and when. He wasn't as attentive anymore, it was like something besides me, was holding his attention even when we were alone together.

The first couple years of marriage to Marcus were really good, our dates were entertaining, enjoyable, and generally ended in fun, satisfying sex.

We were on target to our shared dreams, our future plans, it seemingly destined to grow old together, friends and very much in love.

Now something had shifted.

We'd gradually gravitated toward complacency, and were drifting along day to day with comfort, a false security had silently replaced spontaneity and intimacy. As the previous year passed our sex life dwindled, routine replaced surprises, silence filled the spaces where laughter used to blossom.

I was also to blame, as we both accepted it, without realizing it.

I couldn't help but wonder if his indifference or lack of interest meant he was cheating; I need to pay closer attention to his actions.

Our 4th Anniversary was coming up in a couple weeks, and I was shopping for Marcus's gift and not having found anything yet, I stopped into a bistro for a quick lunch.

"Xavier," I heard someone call. I spun around, it was Trudy, a former work colleague I hadn't seen in over a year.

She brought her coffee and bagel and sat across from me at the small round table intended for 2.

"Xavier, you're still as ravishing as ever, look at you, love the long hairstyle, but with that carrot top and those sultry green eyes, how could you not be sexy."

I beamed at the compliment.

"Thank you, Trudy you look gorgeous too. How's George and your girls?"

"Well, the girls are great, growing like weeds, as for George, I'm not sure, he moved away with Erin... you remember the girls nanny?"

Trudy said it with bravery, and a smile, but I could sense she was hurting, I could see it in her expression.

I reached across touching her hand.

"I'm sorry Trudy," I waited, giving her a moment to compose.

"I understand, Marcus and I are struggling right now."

Trudy took my hand, giving it a firm squeeze between both of hers.

"I can see it, you've changed, you've lost that happy go lucky aura, that exciting, bubbly spark you always exuded; what's wrong Xavier, why is your marriage failing?"

{Is it me? Am I the one that changed so much? Ok I knew something was off, maybe it is me and not Marcus that's changed.}

"We seem to have gravitated toward complacency; you know that way couples slip into mundane routine unnoticed; and I think maybe Marcus is looking elsewhere for satisfaction."

"Well Xavier don't let it happen; you do whatever it takes to keep him interested. Dammit girl look in a mirror, you got more to offer than most, there's no one out there that has anything better to offer."

After Trudy left, I really scrutinized my marriage relationship.

I could be responsible for the stall in our relationship. Nothing profound seems responsible, but many moments where the air was thick; conversations strained, not fluid as before, and I did nothing. Our sex is not as intimate, have I been lax? Marcus always moved with confidence, now he seems apprehensive in all our interactions.

Did I do something to destroy his confidence?

I might be to blame; suspicions were still that he met someone else and was trying to navigate both to see which person he wanted.

I thought I better nip it in the bud, we just need a minor tweaking to get back on track; if we discuss it, I'm sure it will dissolve.

Trudy's right, I'm going to take action.

I stopped at an adult store, bought a blindfold, furry cuffs, and an extremely sexy lingerie ensemble. I intend to reignite my marriage; Marcus and I are still in love, I know it.

I placed the cuffs and eye covering on the bed, hoping he'll see it and I won't have to bring it into play.

I donned the lacy lingerie and covered everything with a light summer dress that has a large zipper the full length of the front. When the timing is right, I'll pull down the zipper step out and offer my sexy self to Marcus, he can cuff me and have his way with me.

During supper, I couldn't spark a conversation, he was distant, not hearing me, when I repeated myself, he responded with expressionless limited words.

I slammed my fork to the table, getting his attention.

"Marcus I've noticed somethings been bothering you recently, are you holding back a dark secret?"

Hoping to lighten the mood.

"If you're a phantom rapist or serial killer, I want to know now." I chuckled, but he didn't seem to grasp the humor.

He sluffed it off, assured me everything was fine.

{Really are we already that far gone.}

"Marcus, we need to address what's happening to 'us,' if you don't talk to me, let me in on what's going on with you, our relationship will deteriorate even more. I want to save it."

No response, other than a simple nod.

I sat at the table crying, feeling we really were too far gone to save.

Marcus got a beer and went to the sofa; I felt abandoned, again he didn't seem to care about me.

I heard the TV channel change to some game.

I eventually gathered myself, cleaned up the kitchen, took Marcus a cold beer, "Please Marcus, talk to me." Still fighting back tears.

He put his arm around my waist, "I'm trying to find the words, please know that I'm trying, but I hurt a lot. I don't know how to say it."

"Ok, but please, let's get past this, my love for you hasn't changed; we've just let it slide."

When we went to bed, he moved the cuffs and eye cover aside, his eyes were glazed, the air was tense, I thought he was about to cry.

I gave him space, I went to the bathroom, removed my lingerie, stuffed the flimsy items under some other clothes in the hamper.

Marcus was on his back, under the covers staring blankly at the ceiling fan. I crawled in, wiggled my bum close, so our hips were touching, but didn't attempt anything more, then I also stared at the hypnotic spinning blades.

Many minutes later,

"Xavier," he started in a barely audible whisper,

"I uh, I'm sorry I'm not adequately satisfying you; you deserve so much better."

I rolled over, touched his cheek,

"What? Don't be silly you're very good to me; Marcus, I love you, where did you get that idea?"

"I know I don't satisfy you anymore, our sex life has dwindled, hell everything between us has changed, and now you need to masturbate, needing toys, or other paraphernalia. I know I'm not good enough."

"Whoa, no, no, no, that's not true, we've become complacent, let's not be hasty, we'll get through this; I bought those things to add a spark, to enhance what we have."

Marcus had visible tears on his cheeks and avoided looking at me.

"I feel I'm not enough for you, that you need more," He sighed, "Uh, I know the past few times, you, uh, haven't climaxed."

"Marcus, don't put yourself down like this, please, let's work through it together, we just need to communicate better, I need to explain to you how to arouse me better, it's my fault not yours."

{Do I be honest and tell him it is he who changed, that I need foreplay, and not just fondling and kissing once he's aroused, I need him to say nice things, do nice things, not just in bed ... all day ...}

{NO, I need to be gentle, I'll wait, and see how this plays out?}

"Marcus, thank-you for opening up." I tenderly rub his cheek, kiss his lips intimately. "See we just need to address the issue, talk it out. I knew something was off a few weeks ago, remember I asked then."

Things shifted slightly, we talked every evening, he tried to be more attentive, but he was still being hard on himself, still believing he was inadequate.

Marcus had made reservations for our anniversary Friday night, we were in the most expensive restaurant in the city, sipping Champagne, I felt like a queen, and I was getting horny.

"I'm feeling really good tonight, Marcus." I lifted my flute, hoping he understood, he was doing great. "Are you feeling good?"

"Yes Xavier, it's just, uh, hard to admit; you're so fucking perfect, so sexy, and I'm, uh, just so plain, you deserve more," He tapped my glass, "tonight I'm going to give you more."

I was thrilled, he heard me, he's been more attentive and now he's stating he's going to step up.

Marcus was truly redeeming himself, our conversation was light and flirty, much like a couple years ago. He shared a story from his wild youthful college days, how he and buddies often slept with the same gal and compared notes. I found it not only amusing but very arousing.

After the meal we took an uber home, Marcus was all over me in the back seat, making out like we were teenagers again, his fingers roamed and fondled.

He hadn't been this amorous for months, maybe over a year. I was ecstatic and highly aroused. I was tempted to blow him right then and there; unconcerned we were in the back seat and a driver was a foot away; but no, I needed him to keep control, to build his confidence.

I will do all I can tonight to help him realize how much I loved and wanted him, and he could truly satisfy me.

We walked from the car to our apartment arm in arm, when the door closed behind us, he gently pressed me to the wall.

{Oh, gawd yes, take me Marcus, push me to the floor and fuck me.}

I recalled our passionate encounters like this when we first married. I had that thrill of being desired for the first time in ages.

After a passionate kiss, he left me breathless, went for a bottle of red.

{Was he teasing me, making me want it more, Geezus it was working.}

He uncorked it, we were on the sofa, he was treating me like when we first met; I felt special.

He took the glass from me, his left hand set it on the coffee table, and he picked up a hair elastic, his hands gathered my crimson locks and put my hair in a pony.

It was erotic, it felt as good as fondling my tits. I felt a surge, a twinge.

His left fingers went to my right cheek, turned me so our eyes met, his right lowered the zipper behind my back; I leaned forward for him as he unclasped my bra.

I was oozing, gawd the anticipation had me soaked more than usual down there; I'm so ready, I knew I would be orgasming quickly.

He delicately brushed his fingers down my right cheek, along my neck across my shoulder taking the dress material and bra strap, lowering the fabric exposing my breast. His fingers cradled the underside of my boob as his thumb gingerly circled my nipple. My tiny nub was screaming with delight, gawd he was right back to when he first wanted in my pants when we were dating.

I wanted the same thing he did, raw, passionate sex.

His right hand mirrored that movement and as my left breast felt the room's air, his knuckles grazed across my erect nub.

I sighed, "Oh gawd Marcus I've missed your intimacy, you're damn good at exciting me."

Marcus stood, lifted me, my dress fell away, he sucked the nape of my neck, so tender, so delicately I moaned, and my hands went around his neck.

He had me nearly climax before his hand went inside my panties.

"Marcus, you've got me so frikkin horny."

I was ready to explode, I thought about giving him a lap dance or a blow job, but I wanted to fortify his ego, build his confidence; another moan escaped as he sucked a nipple.

He didn't play with my pussy; he just pushed my panties down.

He took my hand leading me to the bedroom; I hugged his arm tightly, resting my head on his shoulder, gawd I was so ready.

The room had a soft amber glow; shadows danced on the walls from a few flickering candles that dimly illuminated our room.

Anticipation had me elevated to an extreme level of arousal.

Then my eyes caught a figure in the center of the room.

My eyes barely adjusted to the flickering amber glow, but enough to reveal a stout, muscular man, a body that only gets that toned by hard physical work, or hours in a gym.

His dark eyes scanned me ... Marcus led me to the center of the room; I recognized the carnal lust he displayed as Marcus passed my hand to this naked stranger, offering me up as a gift.

I was about to scream 'HELL NO' and slap Marcus, run out, raging mad.

I saw the man mouth the word 'WOW' as he continued surveying my nude form, it was true adoration. I witnessed a definite desire, it was riveting, there was no doubt, he wanted me, he accepted my hand.

My eyes noticed his wide, 7" shaft, not flaccid, not hard; but I saw the effect I was having on him, it was rising, extremely enticing.

My pulse quickened breath shortened, a mixture of panic and excitement coursed through me.

The stranger lifted my arm, turned me as if we were ballroom dancing, his hand on my waist stopped me 1/2 way round.

Marcus took a seat in the chair in the corner.

{What was happening? Why Marcus? What are you doing? Is this some sort of twisted test? I'm furious at him.}

The man's right hand still holding mine came down over my right shoulder, my right arm flattening my breast, it was a firm, gentle embrace, our hands rested just below my ribcage.

A firm grip on my waist with his left hand pulling me back slightly, he pressed against me from behind, I felt his semi erect rod against my butt cheeks, his warm breath on my neck and shoulder. My nostrils filled with a musky mixture of earthy and spicy cologne. My mind swirling, confused, horny, nervous, anxious.

My mind's eye, played a scene where a quick twist to my right, would release me, I could slap my husband and leave. My body craving to stay, to let this obscene act play out.

{Well Marcus had previously confided he had cuckold tendencies. I could happily play along, exaggerate my passion, maybe making him jealous; give myself more than willingly to a stranger, maybe I should become the aggressor and ride this muscular hunk until he's too soft to perform then sit on his face as I glare at Marcus. If I let him force me, maybe I could justify all this easier tomorrow.}

My eyes caught movement to my left, a tall, young man stood from the bed, came into focus, equally as muscular, I noticed he was even more well-endowed.

In the flickering light it was indistinguishable if he was well tanned or dark skinned.

The tall man stepped in front of me, eliminating my escape plan. He reached for my face, reverently cupping my chin, forefinger beneath, thumb on the cleft of my chin, just below my lip.

{What the hell game is this? Marcus, as my husband, you got me horny as fuck, you kept me on the verge and then hand me off to two strangers ... what am I to do? ... I want you, Marcus; I want to remain faithful ... but you want me to fuck strangers... I've not been properly fucked in a year... I'm wanted now... I'm ready now...?}

He paused, his lust-filled eyes appeared to be questioning, as if waiting for permission before proceeding.

{I did one last desperate search in the corners of my mind for a way to escape; to turn away, to ignore my raging desire. I was betrayed ... my imagination joined forces with my elevated libido my inhibitions diminished like a fog as the sun's heat burns it off.}

I felt wanted, desired, for the first time in so long, every fibre of my being screaming at me to submit.

{Fuck it, I want this, maybe need it.}

I gave him permission, silently, with nothing more than my slight nod and blinking my wanton eyes; I submitted, tipped my head closed my eyes.

He leaned forward kissed me with a fierce longing that made me think he'd returned from a long absence. Still holding my chin, slid his tongue past my lips as if he belonged there; as if all his hunger had waited for this exact moment. I responded likewise, as I too waited for this moment far too long.

Rugged, rough, working man's hands, slid smoothly down over my chest, he cupped and molded my tits as he continued to suck my lips and tongue before dipping down to nibble and suck on an excited pink, hard, nipple.

Latching onto one, he bit down gently and rolled the erect nub between his teeth.

I melted into submission with a long, low, guttural moan.

His right hand roved lower, cupped my vulva, but didn't move, just cupped me and pressed there, I could feel he was claiming me, not yet taking me. His left fingers squeezed into my right butt cheek.

His kiss, his firm groping, claimed me, making me his, and I loved it.

The fellow behind lifted my ponytail, his hot breath on the back of my neck made the fine hairs stand on end, he kissed a spot I don't recall ever being kissed; something shifted, I felt a huge surge of sexual excitement.

His hands caressed up to my breasts, smooth not calloused from work, so his hard muscles were gym manufactured.

With deliberate, weighted intent, he squeezed and firmly fondled my sensitive tits while nibbling my earlobe.

I groaned emphatically, my nerve sensors throughout my entire body went on high alert, and every touch, every breath, sent shivers through me, elevating me to that precipice that makes the body feel truly alive.

The hand cupping my coochie wiggled a finger easily slipping between my sopping labia and delicately caressed the soft inner flesh.

His touch was like lightening striking, setting my skin ablaze; a second finger followed, deeper into me, I vibrated.

I had forgot Marcus was present I glanced over, my husband's eyes were staring, unblinking, watching, as I arched my hips salaciously toward this stranger and I was no longer in control of the moaning he was causing.

My head fell back on the shoulder of another man as he so expertly fondled my tits; exploring me with a determined reverence. I was fully exposed, vulnerable in a way I've never felt before. They worshipped me, making me feel alive in a way as never before. They weren't doing this for their pleasure; it was so glaringly obvious they were there for my pleasure.

I didn't want to admit it, but it felt like I had been waiting for this moment my entire adult life.

Each movement they made was with full purpose, studying, searching, mentally mapping every portion of my body, as if they were artists and needed to do a portrait from memory after I leave.

{Gawd I was in heavenly bliss, on the verge of a spectacular orgasm ... I craved to climax... yet wanted to remain in this state for much longer.}