Not just any night

Not just any night

He stared back at the box.  Fucking Harness Kit for Flame.  He sighed outloud, throwing it back into the bag, looking at the vanity and brushing her smooth brown hair with his wife.  They had been having sex for two years, although he would occasionally treat her to the oral sex she loved so much.  He was anxious to be near again to her, but his failure to keep an erection left him feeling bitter and remote.

Watching his beloved porn even becomes depressing, but sometimes he still finds his way to watching the websites, even though his groin’s stirring never did much more.  Pills only caused his blood pressure to rise, and while he wasn’t willing to give up on the idea that he would ever get an erection again, most of the time he certainly didn’t feel very positive about it.

When he saw the two fucking brunettes, one of them went to him with a strap on the concept.  He might still be able to penetrate her if he had something like that, lay on top of her, move with her.

Be near to her.

It looked pretty harmless.  It was not much larger than his own cock, except that the head was slightly larger than his.  It’s got a curve.  It wouldn’t make him feel like she would never want him again.  It wouldn’t make him feel less like a person. He’d look at it now, though, and not so sure.  The purple harness that was likely intended to wear for a girl, unless he believed it would protect him from squashing.  Right now he felt quite sorry for himself, but he told her that he had a surprise for her.

He was thinking about grabbing a big black dildo, or soy candles.  Perhaps even a kitchen wooden spoon, but he watched her brushing her hair.  She was so lovely.  He went up in the mirror behind her, laying his hands around her waist, burying his head in her hair.  She smelled of lavender and lemon.  She sighed and exposed her neck to him, wondering what might take the evening.

He rubbed into her flesh, reached below her thin top and grabbed her breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers.  She leaned towards him, warming her body, molding.  Her pussy hurts and wishes for what she had long learned to stop asking for.  “Let’s go to bed,” he whispered in her ear, “I’m going to go to the toilet.” –She pretended she was asleep, because that’s what she was doing.  Don’t be disappointed.  There’s no expectation.  No deceptions.  Next to her, she felt him climbing into bed and touching her cheek.  She sighed and opened her eyes as if her attempts to drift off had been interrupted.  He went over her body with his hands.  Between her ankles and her curved flesh.  She moaned with him and sighed.  Allowing him to caress her body and to love it.  Pangs of guilt washing over her, but she nevertheless went with her because she felt good-and she required his attention.

He kept his body away from her, moving and tasting her between her legs.  Licking her slowly, not making her orgasm, but warming her up and making her want him.  He needed the right moment, he wouldn’t shock her or repel her.  He wanted his wife to love.  In years, for the first time.

Her pussy’s folds were swollen and ready, moving over her body.  He was placed between her legs and stared up at him.  She pulled him down to kiss him, thinking of just holding him in her arms as he likely changed his mind to some extent.  Depressed hits at an odd moment, she had learned not to question it.

She felt him reaching again between her legs, then felt him.  Him?  No, he’s not, but something.  Something definitely.  He kissed her, not enabling her to talk like she was sliding inside.  Difficult, thick.  She kissed him with difficulty.  Feeling it slide inside her, curving her body and pushing inside her a thought head.  He laid on her as she wrapped her legs around him, his body on top of her.  Take it in.  She shut her eyes, allowing him to thrust into her slowly.  It was so long.  So long as she felt so near to him, so long as she felt his hips moving and pressing against her pelvis against hers.  His eyes were closed and he was laying on her body, not looking at her head over her shoulder.  He was at odds with his feelings.  Feeling a little emasculated, but still loving her body’s feeling under him.  Her moans in her breath and the quiver.  His body thrust readily and he attempted to use the harness as his own body’s extension.  He continued to use her body for hints without any sensation, feeling her moving to or away from him to understand if it worked for her.  He thrust into her and felt her legs wrapped around him, but not too willing to spare his emotions.

Her body began to tremble under her, and he felt his cock, buried under the smooth padding, stirring futilely.  He wanted to cry, partly because he felt that he had disappointed her because he couldn’t love her the way he always wanted to be able to.  He also wanted to weep because being near to her made him feel more alive in a long time than he had.

He felt her moaning and in her hips acknowledged the tremor.  He continued, slowly-carefully thrusting into her.  Not to look at her but to love her in this time as best as he could.  Holding her body under him and allowing her to hold on to him so tightly, the way she used to…

shouting, shaking her orgasm and breathless.  She gasped…

and sobbing.

He stared at her at last.  Her eyes were full of tears, streaming down her face.  He wiped away tears from her.

“God, I really love you,” he murmured to her.