A Day of Firsts, Part III

Jim started to sit up but abruptly stopped. "Wait. I've got an idea."

Anya lay on the bed, legs askew, still gasping for breath. "What?"

"Just wait here for a moment. I'll be right back."

He got up, threw his robe on, and left the room. Anya could hear his footsteps pounding down the stairs, and it wasn't long before she heard him running back up again. A huge grin on his face, he all but bounced back into the room.

Holding something in his hand, he lifted it up and said "this." It took a moment for her brain to click into gear, but Anya finally realized that he was holding up his electric shaver. "What's that for?"

"You, my dear," he said over-dramatically, "are in dire need of a trim."

She blushed. She didn't usually let her pubic hair get this long, but she kept forgetting to buy razors when she went into town. No razor, no shave. Growing more embarrassed by the second, she clamped her legs shut. "Yeah. I... uh... keep forgetting to buy razors."

"I noticed that," he said, a wry grin on his face. "That's why I got this. It won't be perfect, but it'll be better!"

"Um... I think I might be a little too... messy... for you to do that right now."

"No problem!" Jim said. "I'll go get a warm washcloth." With a shit-eating grin, he disappeared out the door, and she could hear him in the bathroom, water running from the tap. In no time at all, he reappeared, washcloth in hand.

"Open up," he said, his voice low. She did, slowly spreading her legs until her pussy was revealed. Gently, he washed her - warm, and wet, the washcloth ran over first her outer lips, then the inner, softly removing the evidence of her orgasms. Once he was done, he spread it out on the bed under her bottom. "So we don't have pubic hair all over the bed," he explained.

Grabbing his shaver, he popped the trimmer into position. Turning it on, he bent down and placed it gently on her mons. "Just try to hold still," he said. "It won't cut you, I don't think, but it might pull if you move too much."

Anya, breathless, just stared at him. The intimacy required in order to let him do this for her was turning her on more than anything.

Slowly and carefully, he trimmed her pubic hair, starting at her mons and proceeding down to her swollen, pink lips. The gentle vibrations from the device, in combination to the gentle touches of his fingers, were turning her on more than she could have imagined. She never believed that something as simple as shaving could be so erotic an event.

Finished, he turned off the shaver, and carefully folded the washcloth so that the hair that had fallen was trapped inside. Giving her pussy one last wipe with the (now much cooler) washcloth to catch any stray hairs, he folded it up even smaller and placed it on her bedside table. Reclining back on the bed, he reached out to touch his masterpiece. Running his fingers gently along her outer lips, he softly said "there. That's much better."

The only sound in the room was Anya's quickened breathing. Wide-eyed, she simply stared at him. Too befuddled to speak, she didn't even try.

The touch of his fingers was exquisite torture. Like butterfly kisses, he gently stroked her, fingers periodically delving between to touch the moist head. Looking into her eyes, he pushed a finger inside. "Oh my," he said. "That really turned you on, didn't it?"

"Yes," she breathed.

"Good," he grinned, and bent his head, touching his tongue to her clit. Half gasp, half scream, she cried out and clutched at the sheets under her hands. He teased her mercilessly, flicking his tongue against her swollen bud until she was almost ready to come... and then stopping, running his tongue down the inside of her lips, shoving it into her hole. And then doing it again... and again... and again. Oblivious to anything but what he was doing to her, breathing became moaning; moaning became screaming.

Finally granting her mercy, he hooked two fingers into her, massaging her g-spot, and attacking her clit with his tongue.

"Oh God... oh God... Jim... oh my God, I'm going to come!"

The orgasm that washed over her was stronger than she could ever remember feeling before. Her pussy spasmed, clenching the fingers that were still inside her.

As she struggled to return her breathing to normal, he crawled up alongside her, kissing his way up her body. The curves of her stomach, the globes of her breasts... he blazed a trail of hot kisses that made it all but impossible for her to come all the way down. He held her up in that haze of orgasmic pleasure and didn't seem willing to let her come down.

And she wasn't really sure she wanted to.

Coming to her neck, he continued to kiss and lick his way up, finally locking lips with hers, shoving his hot tongue in her mouth. Breaking free, he kissed his way along her cheek to her ear, where he whispered "suck me."

"Stand up," she said, turning her head to look him in the eyes.

He stood; she sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed. She just sat there for a moment, taking in the sight of him. God, how she loved his cock! She'd never told him, because she didn't want to inflate his ego too much, but he had the best cock she'd ever seen or felt. It was big - but not too big. Long, but not too long. A healthy pink color, the blue veins now straining under the skin. Uncircumcised, the head gleamed with the pre-cum that had gotten smeared when he'd moved.

Gently she took him in her hands; one wrapped around his beautiful cock, one cupping his balls. Bringing her head forward, she reached out with her tongue, tasting the bitter-salt flavor of his pre-cum. Gasping, he reached out and tangled his hand in her curly blond hair. Smiling to herself, she closed her lips around the head, squeezing the shaft with one hand and his balls with the other.

Teasing him with her tongue, she alternated rubbing the underside of the head and teasing his hole. Creating a buildup of her own spit, she started to take more and more of him in her mouth. She never could deep-throat him (though God knows she'd tried!), but she always tried to take him as far as possible.

Hands moving in time with her mouth and tongue, she began to bob her head up and down his shaft, eliciting groans and grunts of appreciation from him. His hands twisted in her hair, making her smile to herself. It's always nice to be appreciated.

He was close to climax; she could tell. She just kept at it, slurping at his gorgeous cock like it was the most delicious thing in the world. So it came as quite a shock when he suddenly pushed her off of him and back on the bed. She looked at him in surprise and concern, worried that she'd done something wrong.

Jim looked intensely into Anya's eyes. "I need to come inside you," he said. Relieved, she scooted back farther, to make sure he had enough room to climb on the bed with her.

He climbed on the bed, kneeling. Grabbing a leg in each of his hands, he pulled her towards him with her ass up in the air. Driving his cock into her, a sigh escaped her lips. He filled and stretched her completely, perfectly. As if he were made for her and her alone.

Wasting no time, he began to pump in and out of her with feverish abandon. Cock sliding in and out, her clit hitting his pelvic bone with each thrust, she quickly approached yet another orgasm.

Just as she felt the waves hit, just as her pussy muscles started clamping down on him, he came. She could feel his cock pumping cream into her, could see it on his face.

Collapsing on top of her, he couldn't stop his hips from twitching, still wanting to thrust. Panting, trying to catch his breath, he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked at her. Kissing her, he told her how much he loved her.

"Wow," he said a moment later. "That's a first."

A Day of Firsts, Part II

"Jim!" she squeaked, snatching at the quilt and covering her face. Oh my God, oh my god ohmygod! No. Yes. No. I'm going to die of embarrassment.

Jim stood by the door - which he'd closed and locked behind him - absolutely entranced. He could still see her fingers glistening with pussy juices. But when he watched her cover her face, he laughed. She, it seemed, was sobbing. Or at least shaking really hard.

Taking a step, forward, he breathed her name. "Anya." She made no move to look at him nor even acknowledge that he'd said anything. Her body shook under the quilt, though she made no sound. Coming round to her side of the bed, he sat down on the edge and put his hand on what he thought was her thigh. "Anya. Babe," he said softly. "Come on now. You can't honestly think that covering your face is going to magically make me un-see what I just saw, do you?"

She answered with a shake of her head.

He just sat there looking at her for a few moments, still reeling from the shock of what he'd seen. He knew that she masturbated, but he also knew that she went to great lengths to hide it from him. He never quite understood why, but he always figured that if it bothered her that much, he'd respect that and not bring it up. But how could he not bring it up now?

Trying to ignore the hard-on he'd sprung when he walked in on his wife pleasuring herself, he made an effort to be gentle with her. After nearly 10 years of marriage, he sensed she needed sensitivity and encouragement right now, not mockery. I can always tease her later, when it's not such a big deal anymore. Heehee.

"Babe," he said softly, "take the quilt off your face. You can't be comfortable under there, for one thing. For another, it's pointless. I'm here now, you can't pretend that I'm not."

Slowly she brought the quilt down to breast level, keeping her eyes closed. Sure enough, there was the telltale shine of tear tracks down her cheeks. "Come on, stop being silly," he told her. "Open your eyes."

She turned her face away from him first, then opened her eyes, keeping them fixed on a point on the wall opposite.

Man, she really is embarrassed, isn't she?

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Why can't you look at me?"

"It's too humiliating," she said, her voice cracking.

Taken aback, he blurted out "why?"

"Because you saw me... you saw me... "

"Masturbating," he said. "Playing with yourself."

"Yeah. That," she said on a sigh.

"And why is that humiliating?"

She simply shook her head.

"Come on. Answer me. Give me one good reason why it would be humiliating for a woman to be caught playing with herself by her own husband?"

She was silent for a moment... until she realized he wasn't going to give up without an answer. He'd sit there and torture her all night until she gave him one. Angrily, her eyes flashed at him as she lifted her head off the pillow just long enough to hiss "I don't know, okay?!"

Jim smiled to himself. Hmm... maybe if he played this right, he might actually be able to help her to get over some of the 'issues' she had with her sexuality. This could turn out to be a good thing.

"So... you don't actually have a reason why it's humiliating. It just is, is that it?"

"Yeah. Pretty much," she said.

"Well, you know what?" he said, leaning over her and turning her face so that she had no choice but to look at him. "You shouldn't be. Embarrassed, I mean." He started nuzzling her face. "You're beautiful," a soft kiss on the lips. "You're sexy," trailing kisses down her neck. "And it looked amazing," he found the weak spot on her neck and started kissing and nibbling it. "I never realized that watching you from across the room could be hotter than watching you come under or on top of me. But it was. I just wish I'd been here to see it all, without the quilt."

Anya's breath was coming out in short bursts - even after all this time together, he could turn her on in an instant and knew just which buttons to push. She could already feel the fire beginning to blaze between her legs again. The humiliating burning in her cheeks started to fade, but only a tiny bit...

"Hell, Anya, watching you come gave me an instant hard-on. Here, feel." He took her hand and placed it on the bulge in his jeans. She sucked in a breath when she realized he wasn't just semi-hard... he was rock hard. Wow, she thought.

His kisses on her neck and the feel of his cock in her hand were both working to form a haze over her thoughts of embarrassment. As was the case every time they had sex, nothing mattered but what they did to and for each other. The world could be on fire and she wouldn't give a damn. Absently, she began to stroke him through the layer of denim.

One of Jim's hands reached up and pulled the quilt down as he kissed and sucked on her neck. She arched against him, completely lost in how he was making her feel. Taking hold of the tank top she was wearing he broke away from her neck to tell her "take this off. I want to see you. All of you."

In one quick motion the tank was off and lying in a heap on the other side of the room. Jim bent his head and resumed kissing and sucking on his wife's neck, leaving love bites along the way. His free hand reached up and cupped her breast, eliciting yet another audible gasp from her.

She could feel him smile against her skin. "You like that?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"God, yes," she breathed.

"Then say it."

"It feels..."

"No," he said, a little more forcefully. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

Anya froze. "What... what do you mean?"

"I mean I want you to talk to me like you do when I'm fucking you and you're about to come. When all those naughty things build up inside of you and you can't help but let them out. I know you think like that more often than just when you're coming. I want to hear it."

Something snapped in Anya. Something for which she had no name, but to which she had been clinging as if her life depended on it. It really is okay.

Not quite brave enough to look him in the eye while she said it, she closer her eyes. "I... I want you to touch me," she gasped. "I want you to touch..." she wasn't sure what word to use. Breasts? Was that too clinical? Was 'boobs' too common? "I want you to touch my tits."

"How?"

"I want you to rub them.."

"Like this?" he asked, covering both mounds with his warm hands, firmly but gently massaging them in circular motions. Arching her back, she let out a soft moan. "Oh yes..."

"What else? Is there nothing else you want me to do to you?"

"My nipples," she gasped. "Play with my nipples."

He took each nipple between a thumb and a forefinger and started rolling, pinching, and pulling on them. Each new touch elicited more gasps, sighs, and groans from her. He'd never noticed just how beautiful her voice sounded when she was crying out in pleasure.

It was as if walking in on her pleasuring herself lifted a veil from his eyes and he was seeing her again for the first time.

And he loved what he was seeing.

He leaned down and kissed the skin between her breasts, letting his tongue dart out to tickle the skin. Anya shivered and wrapped her arms around his head, hands absently stroking his back. He kissed his way up to one of her nipples; sucking on it, gently biting it, she began to arch her back even more, trying to give it all to him.

After paying just as much attention to the second breast as he did the first, he started to kiss his way down the curves of her stomach. He smiled at the aroused giggle that bubbled out of her when he stuck his tongue in her navel.

Kissing his way back up her body, he made as if he was going to kiss her, but stopped. He just stared into her eyes for an intense moment before taking possession of her mouth.

It was a kiss to eclipse all of the other kisses that had ever happened between them. It was a kiss full of love, of lust, and of passion. They were both gasping for breath when the kiss broke.

"I want you to do something for me," he said, locking eyes with her.

"What?"

"I want you to play with yourself again. For me. So I can watch."

Anya's cheeks began to burn. The thought of doing it right there in front of him, with the intention of him watching her... it excited and frightened her at the same time. She wanted to do it... but could she? "Honey, I don't know if I could..."

"I'll make it easier for you," he said. Wrapping one arm around her upper body and letting his other hand take one of hers, he brought them both to her sopping wet pussy. "I'll help you at first, get you started. And then when you're really hot, I'll let you take over." Both hands dipped between her pussy lips and felt the evidence of her earlier orgasm. "My, but you are wet," he said. "You must have been really fucking wet to begin with to be this wet now."

Judging by the intensity with which he looked at her, she supposed he wanted an answer. "Yes," she said, half moaning. "Yes, I was wet before."

"Hmm... and what made you so wet, may I ask?"

"I... I don't know," she said, finding it hard to actually form a coherent thought, as there were two hands going to work on her clit. "I don't know why, but I've been wet for days. All I can think about is having sex with you, but you've not been feeling well, so I know it's out of the question."

He left her to work her clit on her own and instead pushed two fingers up her pussy, hard. Soft, soft, hard. Soft, soft, hard. He definitely knew what she liked. "What made you think sex was out of the question?" he asked.

"You... always say... that it... it doesn't... work... when you're not well."

"Hmm... you're right, I do remember saying that. I suppose it's my own fault then, huh? Although it's not like you usually get the courage to say anything anyway."

"True, but even if I... *gasp*... jumped you on a regular basis... *gasp*... I probably wouldn't have said anything, knowing that you're not feeling well."

Abruptly pulling his fingers out of her pussy, he stood up. "You just keep going. Anyway, I seem to be feeling a lot better all of a sudden," and for proof, he whipped his jeans down to his calves, letting his cock spring free. "See? So you know what? I'd like to revise that statement." He crawled on the bed next to her, kissing her and stroking his own cock lazily. "From now on, you can ask for sex anytime you want, whether I'm feeling good or not. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work... but I can't believe I would have missed out on this because of one stupid comment."

He kissed her again, deeply, prompting her to work more feverishly on her clit. "That's right. Rub it. Doesn't it feel good?"

"Yes," she breathed.

He shifted his weight around so that he was at the edge of the bed, lying on his side with one hand holding his head up and the other moving slowly up and down on his cock. He had a wonderful view, from her feet all the way up to her shining face. And a perfect view of her gorgeous pussy.

Her clit was swollen, a lovely shade of pink. He watched her fingers move up and down between her pussy lips and a slight frown creased his brow. "Use both hands," he said. "Hold your lips open so that I can see it."

Anya did, trying to concentrate on what her body was feeling, at the same time trying to ignore the voice in her head that was screaming "What are you doing?"

It didn't take long for her orgasm to build, he could tell. He could see her tensing up, teetering on the edge of release. "What's your favorite thing," he asked, "to have done with your pussy? Is it doing it yourself, having me do it, the vibrator... what?"

"Having... your... cock... inside... me..." she all but screamed as her orgasm washed over her in wave after wave after wave of pleasure.

Jim half-sat up and grinned at her. "Well then..."

A Day of Firsts, Part I

She slid under the warm covers, settling down into the mattress and sighing. She hated it when he started feeling unwell and sleeping crazy hours. It meant that when he got up, she was going to bed, and when she got up, he was almost ready to go to bed. Completely opposite schedules.

And she was so horny, too!

She'd been hot and wet all day. She was seriously beginning to wonder if maybe she was hitting her sexual prime a little early, because she'd been obsessed with sex for a while now. Trying to ignore it didn't seem to be working. She just kept getting hornier and hornier, no matter what she tried to distract herself.

Absently her hand traveled up under the quilt and started to massage her own breast. God, she needed a good fucking. But she wasn't about to risk her marriage for a roll in the hay. She'd just have to wait until her husband was feeling better. But God, what torture it seemed to be!

As she lay there thinking and rubbing her own tits, her breath quickened. She had to do something about the throbbing between her legs or else she'd NEVER get to sleep.

Wriggling out of her pj bottoms, she spread her legs wide under the quilt. One hand still tweaked, rolled, and pulled at a nipple while the other slid down to her crotch. Rubbing her outer lips, she felt how much hair there was down there. Man, I need a shave, she thought. Must remember to buy razors the next time I go into town.

She slid one finger between her pussy lips and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Wow. I don't think I've ever felt myself this wet before. Running her finger along the inside of her pussy lips, she gently traced her way to her clit. Jesus! I really AM horny, aren't I? She'd never felt her clit so engorged before.

Ah well, she thought. I guess it's a day for firsts.

Running her fingers in circles around her clit, she thought of the last time they'd had sex. It had been a better-than-usual encounter, and she'd came at least twice. Switching to two fingers to rub up and down both sides of her clit, she remembered how he'd lifted her up by her hips and slammed his cock into her. God, that had felt so good. Her pussy had been on fire and she felt it all the way up to her chest.

Seriously worked up by now, she was almost desperate for release. Reluctantly she let go of her clit to reach over to his side of the bed. Getting the pink vibrator from the miniature chest on his table, she lay back down and brought the quilt back up to cover her shoulders, stopping for a minute to listen for any sounds of footsteps on the stairs. Hearing nothing, she spread her legs wide once again and slipped the tip of the vibrator into her. Realizing that she was so wet that lubrication wasn't even going to be a problem, she shoved it in all the way and turned it on, dialling it up to maximum speed.

One hand returned to her clit, while the other resumed its nipple play. God, she thought, I wish he understood just how much I love it when he plays with my tits. I'd probably come all over him if he did.

It didn't take too long for the fire in her belly to start growing. Feeling her orgasm building, she finally abandoned her tit to spread her pussy lips wide with one hand while the other rubbed frantically on her clit. Images flashed in her mind: him, kneeling on the bed, naked, with his magnificent cock sticking straight out at her. Him, laying on the bed naked while she sucked his cock. Him, in the house they'd moved into shortly after getting married, sitting on the desk naked while she sat in the desk chair, sucking his cock and talking to her sister on the phone at the same time.

That one still made her giggle.

Impatient now, and finding the desperation to come too much to bear, she slipped the vibrator from her hole and pressed the tip to her clit. A slight smile flitted across her face the moment it touched - though she much preferred sex with another person, there was just something about the way a vibrator felt.

Very gently, she rubbed the vibrator around her clit, trying to find just the right spot. It never seemed to be in the same place twice! Damned thing has a mind of its own, that's for sure. Finally finding it, she threw her head back on the pillows. Oh God yes.

The more she felt her orgasm build up inside of her, the more she felt she needed it. Quickly alternating between rubbing the tip of the vibrator against her clit and pressing it into her sweet spot, she felt the heat inside of her grow.

Just as she came, she pressed the vibrator firmly into her clit. As wave upon wave of her orgasm hit, her eyes rolled back into her head and she began bucking against her own hand and the vibrator. It seemed to take forever for the waves to subside completely.

Switching off the vibrator, she opened her eyes...

... and looked directly into her husband's.