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Self Care
A Sexual Fantasy
I leave work. Nothing special. Another day, another dollar. I call my wife to let her know I'm on my way and see how her day off was. She's done laundry, run errands, done dishes, and prepped for dinner--regular day off things to reign in the crazy of a family with two full-time working parents. Our conversation flows easy, as it always has, and the commute sweeps by me unnoticed. I open the door with a "honey I'm…"
Wow. All the ordinary of the day is flushed from my mind. Everything is gone from the world except her. She's in a black open-cup, open-crotch lingerie set with gartered black stockings and elegant heels. Her hair and makeup are flawless. She's wearing the pearl necklace and earrings I gave her. She smells divine. She's lying on her back on the kitchen counter like Aphrodite in the flesh.
My brain is no longer tethered to my body, so I float into the room for a closer look. She's been teasing herself while we talked and is well on her way. I want to join in the pleasure, feel her soft skin, taste her salty wetness, feel the clench of her muscles as she approaches her orgasm. I reach out to touch her, but her eyes tell me everything I need to know: I'm to look, but not touch.
And now I realize she hasn't done this for me. Knowing that I would find her and want her is fuel to her fire. The lust in my eyes will be her undoing. So I watch. I consume her with my gaze. I take in every stroke, gasp, and writhe. And then it washes over her like waves crashing over sand. I ache with desire as I watch her climax. Time escapes us as she comes down from her high. Our consciousnesses are completely entwined, though our bodies still don't touch.
Once she has recovered, she climbs down from her pedestal. She takes my hand and my brain and body are finally reunited. My entire body tingles like a static charge. She leads me to our bed and the fire is back in her eyes as she strips me. It's my turn, but it's still for her pleasure rather than mine.
Every kiss and touch inches me closer to my limit. And each carefully measured dose of pleasure stokes her fire. She drags her slick pussy across my thigh, my chest, my face. My brain excuses itself from my body again as she lays claim to me. My ears are hers. My lips are hers. My tongue? Hers. My chest, my back, my ass, my cock, my balls. All hers. My pleasure is hers. And so she has her way with me. She employs every kind of pleasure at her disposal right up to my limit, every nerve on fire. When she's ready, she mounts me and furiously fucks herself to another orgasm. Her release is my undoing and we explode into a relentless climax.
My mind rejoins my body as we melt into one another. Body and soul we're swirled together in a glorious pool of existence. In time, the world re-materializes around us. Our selves precipitate back out of solution. Wow. We share a smile. We both know what the other is thinking. It's time to go pick up the kids.
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