I was browsing hulu to pass the time when the phone buzzed in my hand. A text from my wife, Hannah, dropped down from the top of the screen, "I'm a bit tipsy, taking uber, but I need your dick to be hard and ready to burst when I get home. Be home in 5 mins and I need to talk to you about something. But you better be extremely horny. Start without me, but don't finish before I get there"
My heart began to race. She was out with her choir friends like any other Thursday, but she'd never texted me like this. My mind flashed back to what I had said to her a few weeks back and suddenly my skin went cold. I felt dread wash over me, but my cock also stirred to life. I had been horny and more than a little drunk when I let slip that I might be open to the idea of watching her in bed with someone else.
She'd never mentioned having the desire, never even hinted at it. We had been drinking out on our patio together that night, after the kids had gone to bed, listening to music and having a date night at home. She was sitting on my lap and the smell of wine on her lips as they brushed against mine was intoxicating. I don't know if it was driven by the jealousy I feel whenever she goes out for drinks with her choir after practice, or some hidden feeling of inadequacy.
"I want you so much right now." The words began tumbling out. "I'm drunk right now, so I'm going to tell you something I'm too afraid to say when I'm sober..." Maybe I was hoping to catch her with some confession, make her feel safe in telling me. A moment passed as I considered backing out. "I get turned on by the thought of seeing you with someone else." I had said it. It was out and my dick throbbed in my jeans.
Her lips brushed against mine once, hesitated, then kissed me fully, with just a hint of tongue. She pulled back slightly to look into my eyes, one eyebrow raised and her bottom lip held just barely between her teeth.
I continued, "I can't say this when I'm sober, but if you've ever wanted to try out a new cock, you should bring it up. I might surprise you by agreeing."
She grinned slightly, "You're just horny and you'll say anything right now." And then those wine infused lips kissed me and ended the conversation. The next day, I was relieved, panicking about what I had said but happy she hadn't taken it seriously.
My mind snapped back. She was on her way home. Five minutes. I went into the bedroom, closed the door, stripped, and sat on the edge of the bed. My cock was at full attention, even though my heart was thudding with fear that she might ask to take me up on my offer. I took a calming breath and started stroking. Whatever it was, I was going to do exactly what she had asked.
Choir practice was Hannah's only time for herself. She works full-time in a law firm as a researcher, doing the grunt work that the partners don't want to do themselves. Though she only joins them in court occasionally, she dresses up in formal business attire and actually loves it. I'll never understand how she can enjoy dressing up, but I will also never complain, since her pant suits and formal skirts hug her ass and legs in ways that force you to notice. I must be her opposite in nearly every way.
I manage, but don't own, a small construction company. I never wear anything more fancy than jeans, I never sit all day at a desk, and I never drink anything more fancy than beer. She gets home before I do each day, and so she's the one picking up and looking after the kids, making sure we all eat dinner. Except Thursday. On Thursdays, I come home early and she heads off for choir, not having to figure out dinner or homework or any of it.
When she first started choir a year or two ago, they had had a big night out after the final performance of the season and we hired a baby-sitter to make a night of it. It was my first time meeting her choir, and even though they'd been singing and practicing together, she had felt like it was her first time truly, personally meeting and getting to know them. She was the new girl and hadn't had any time outside of practice to get to know them until then. After the first season, each subsequent show had a few people drop out and a few new faces arrive, but she had befriended a core group that always remained, season after season. Erica, a soprano, was the shy one who joined in all the fun but hardly said more than a few words, unless she had a few drinks in her. Leonard, an older tenor, was tall and talkative, and had a personal story for everything. Adriana was a an alto like my wife, and was a college student nearing graduation. She was constantly swatting away flirtations from old Leonard. And then there was Gabriel, another tenor, their very personable choir director who happened to be a complete perfectionist.
After the first season, we started going out for drinks about once a month with them. We would hire a baby-sitter and I'd meet them at a local brewery once their practice ended. Then it started to be every other week, and then every week, and I could no longer keep up. I had always been included in the conversation, but whenever music came up, I was an outsider. By bowing out, I gave Hannah some space that she may not have admitted that she needed; some time to be herself with friends instead of a wife and mother. Maybe that's what made me feel jealous enough that I conjured up thoughts of her and Gabriel staying for drinks when conveniently no one else turned up.
I looked at my phone, five minutes had passed. I had started to go soft, so I cleared my head and focused on the feeling. I was stroking slowly, top to bottom, feeling every movement. My heart was calming down and after another minute, I started to really get into it. As I continued, I thought of her on my lap out on the patio that night. Those wine infused lips. Her text said she was tipsy, so she would taste like that night again.
She had been wearing one of those tight skirts, and it had hiked up on her hips as she had straddled me. She had pressed herself into me and I pressed myself now, to recall the feeling. I lay back on the bed on the bed and stroked, staring up at the ceiling, remembering how she had pressed down and moved forward and backward as she kissed me, as she bit gently on my lip, as my hands helped her ass move on top of me. The neighbors across the lawn had probably peered out of their windows to see if we would take it further... and we had. Her hand had reached down and unzipped me and let it out. For a few seconds, she had sat there, grinding my hip, obscuring the view for any neighbor while she stroked me, just as I stroked now. Then she had tucked me away, dragged me inside, and pulled me to the bedroom.
I was starting to feel it build inside me when the sound of a car door brought me back to the present. A moment passed and the car slowly drove off down the road, and I waited. After another minute, I began to think it wasn't her, because she would have come inside by then. But then her keys jingled in the lock and I heard her drop her shoes and keys by the door. In a few seconds, she walked into the bedroom and grinned wickedly. "Oh fuck yes."
I stroked for her, watching her eyes as she watched my hand go up and down.
