Breakfast in bed

Quietly you slipped below the covers, crawling down to his loosely tented boxers, and fished out his (mostly limp) penis. You smiled faintly to yourself, imagining his reaction, as you moved your mouth up to softly kiss the tip.

You'd discussed oral sex before, but always with a reserved sense of dismissal. It was sexist and demeaning, you had insisted. It's not as if Greg were eager to return the favor, after all. Still horny from your dream though, you muzzily looked forward to feeling your husband inside you. To be honest, you also wanted to reward him for his lonely efforts with cleaning the house and to apologise for your absence the day before.

What would he taste like? You stared it for a moment, then closed your eyes and took him into your mouth. Immediately you felt like an idiot. Now what? He tasted like sweat and skin, but wasn't hard at all.

You glanced up, checking if he was awake, and were both disappointed and relieved to see that he was still ****. Feeling nervous, you tried running your tongues around the head, and felt him stiffen in your mouth. Slowly you started a repetitive motion with your hand and head, and were rewarded with a pleased groan from around the pillows above you. What if he came in your mouth? You hadn't thought this through.

"...Stephanie?" He was awake! Greg's voice was groggy, "...what are you... -oh!" You smiled, or tried to. It was kind of hard while you were going down on him. "Damn, Steph... Don't stop, oh fuck..."

He was fully hard in your mouth now, and you felt a hand come down on the back of your head, his fingers slipping into your hair.

Now you were getting worried though, that he might finish without any warning. You slipped him out of your mouth with an embarrassing 'plop' and started kissing your way up his chest, conscious of your own growing need. You reached his mouth with yours, and moaned into him as he but softly down on your lip.

You tore your mouth away from him and directed his stiff member inside you, settling onto it with a satisfied gasp. "You have *no* idea how much I needed that," you started, but then felt his hands on your hips. They pulled and your weight shifted, and then you were on your back. "-Oh! Good morning to you too, officer!" It was a pet name you hadn't used in months.

He slipped out of you, then pressed back in, his hips curling against your own even as you struggled to meet his thrusts. He smiled down at you and kissed you again as you felt an orgasm approaching. "I don't know what's gotten into you," he panted between thrusts, "but I like it! I'm going to... I'm close..."

"Me too," you gasped, "don't sto-"

You felt the orgasm crash over you, and you rode it for what felt like an eternity, your husband pulling you close against him as he came hard inside you. Panting, you trembled as you felt Greg pull out, and snuggled up against him in the sweaty sheets. Together you basked in the glow of great sex, letting the seconds drift by in the morning light.

"I'm sorry I was out all evening," you finally said, the edge of an impish grin forming around the words.

His arm wrapped around you at the words. "Stephanie... that... this morning was incredible. If this was all some kind of apology... Maybe you should stay out more often." The last words were said through a chuckle. It felt good to hear he wasn't mad at you, and you laughed along with his joke.

"It was kind of fun, waking you up like that," you allowed.

"Hey, you won't hear any complaints from me." Greg relaxed his hold on you, a note of worry entering his voice. "Just keep me in the loop next time. It was kind of weird, getting that call from Aimee. I didn't really think you to would hit it off like that."

Neither had you, honestly. With a sort of pang, you realized that you'd developed a friendly loyalty to Aimee the day before. There was a gentle warning note if you're voice when your asked, "...and why is that?"

He missed the warning. "She's just... I dunno... She seemed like kind of a slut. Nice enough, but-"

You cut him off, an unexpected anger coming out in your voice, "Maybe you shouldn't have given her your number if she's 'just some slut?' huh? She's the first person we've met in this town who's shown any sort of friendship toward me! She even helped get me a job interview!"

Greg looked lost. He held up his hands in apology, but you could see anger creeping into his features as well. "Hey, I'm just being honest. Some woman with fake tits comes into our life, flirts with me, and then whisks you off for a day of... What? She said you'd been shopping? I don't even know yet because you haven't told me anything! And then you come back and give me your first blowjob after over a year of marriage?"

He had a point, but not one you wanted to hear. "You know what? I hope you enjoyed it. See if you get another one!" You were frustrated; he wasn't wholly *wrong* either, which made things worse. It *was* weird that you'd gotten on so well with Aimee. But it was just like Greg to make things out as though you were in the wrong, when you'd already apologized, and then to make Aimee out to be some villain. You gathered up some clothes, stormed into the bathroom, and turned for one last parting volley. "And for your information, Aimee's 'tits' are REAL!" You weren't sure about that, but neither was he.

He said something back, but you silenced it by slamming the bathroom door. You fumed in the shower, furious with the sour turn the morning had taken. If your husband was going to be like this, he could damn well spend the day alone. You'd apologized!

You dressed in silence, punctuated by frustrated groans as the morning defied you. Your husband had unpacked *his* bathroom things, but *yours* were still in boxes on the floor. The wire on your favorite damn bra dug painfully into your chest, and would need replacing soon. You had JUST gone shopping! On top of all that, your phone was dead. You'd forgotten to plug it in, probably because of your drunken exhaustion the night before.