Horngry.

Jealousy. Frustration. Anger. Admiration. Protective. Possessive. Desire. Lust. Love. Fear. That cocktail of emotions in my heart all mixed together, and kind of manifested as wanting to get all of his sperm out of his balls and into my person. It was like my uterus had completely taken over, like it was telling me, "This man might leave you. Get his kid ASAP!"

If that makes no sense, I agree with you. I've already had a kid with him, and we both thought it would have been too early to have another, but everything in my body was screaming at me to do anything to make sure he didn't leave the kid he didn't even have yet!

Then the rest of my brain kicked in, and told me that it was impossible for me to fuck him. One, we were at his workplace with his colleagues around. I didn't want him to look bad in front of his peers and ruin his future with them, if we get caught. Two, it would be incredibly suspicious if we were away for too long. And Three, I was on my period. I admit I was hormonal, but do you see why wanting to have his kid right then made no sense to me?

With all that in mind however, I could not get over the momentary insanity of obtaining his sperm, by the only mean I had left. And that night, I was going to take it from him.

Pushing him back towards the door, I dropped down to my knees. "I'm going to suck your cock." I declared, undoing his belt and trousers. It took him a bit to register what was happening, and he tried to stop me by grabbing my wrists. He got one, but before he could get the other, I had already fished out his dick from his boxers' fly, and was gripping onto it rougher and tighter than I had ever done before. He looked down at me, said that now was a bad time, and that we could do this in the car later before we get home, but I just glared at him. "I didn't say 'I want to suck your cock' Rancher. I said 'I'm going to suck your cock.' And you are going to love it."

Before he could say anything, I had my lips around his cockhead, and was swirling my tongue around it, under it, tickling the tip, and was using my fingers to pick up whatever liquid left behind to coat his shaft with, basically forcing him to get hard as quickly as I could. He had one hand on my head, trying to get me to slow down, while covering his own mouth to muffle his noises. Between grunts, he demanded to know what had gotten into me, and between slurps, I told him to shut up and that I'd apologize and explain everything in the morning.

The nerve of this guy. Complaining about me making him feel good, so I could to save our marriage!

At some point he must have gotten into it, because his hips started moving, and instead of holding me back, he brushed my hair away so he could see my face. I looked up and grinned at him. If I could have, I would have pulled my boobs out, teased some milk out, and let it drip and dribble all over, just the way he likes it, but my dress and the urgency of the situation didn't let me. All I could do was kind of like, scooch over to the side a bit and pull the front of it down a little, so that he could look down my cleavage while I did my thing. His fingers tightened on my head and there was just that little bit more angry power in his thrusts that told me that his imagination was taking over, and he was getting mad that reality was in the way.

With the two of us working together like this, it couldn't have been more than five minutes before my mouth was filling up with his thick, delicious, and sticky splooge. The feel of his sweet sweet nut butter coating my tongue and throat softened the pang of not having an egg waiting for him do the same to it, but I was so happy that I was the one to get his genes in me, instead of one of those sluts back in the conference room. In fact, it was so important to me, that I locked my lips behind his glans and sucked on it like a stuck straw, getting every last drop out of him. He even tried to back up and was tapping the top of my head to get me to stop again, but I chose to interpret that as encouragement for making sure that his balls were completely empty.

The next morning, after we had cleared up from breakfast and my parents had taken our kid to the nearby playground, my husband sat me down and told me to give him that apology and explanation I promised him. I would have thought that he'd have put it together by now, but it's fine, I know how his brain works sometimes. So I told him that he didn't notice that he was getting hit on by the other women at his office party, and that I had **** but to do what I did, in order to keep our marriage intact, by dealing with the thing that makes men make stupid decisions.

Now he gave me his version of "Mommy's I can't believe what I'm hearing" scowl, before closing his eyes and telling me to pause for a second. Once he had processed and gathered his thoughts, he told me a couple of things. The first was that I was overreacting, because he takes his vows very seriously. The only women he was friendly and joking with were his female coworkers that know and respect the fact that he's married, and was only polite and cordial with all the +1's. He would never stray from the woman he married, and that he was disappointed that, after this many years, that she doubted his incredible self-control.

I have to admit, that stung.

Secondly, he said that even if he had noticed that they were hitting on him, none of them were his type anyway. They were all too skinny for him to be attracted to them.

Now, that. That made me feel silly and a little stupid. He told me that WAY at the beginning of our relationship. Forgetting about that hurt me a lot more than his disappointment. I could only look at the floor and not at him.

He took a deep breath and told me that he didn't want me to ever doubt him about him being faithful ever again, that we were lucky that no one came looking for him during, the ribbing he's most likely going to get when he goes into the office is my fault, and that he never wants me to do something like that ever again. I kind of mumbled that I understood and that I wouldn't, and I haven't since, but I don't think he fully believed me at the time. He nodded sharply, and then said that we were leaving in a few minutes to go and meet up with our family, before leaving me alone in the kitchen.

That short conversation changed me. He had everything going for him that night, but my jealousy almost fucked that all up. Stupid biology. Stupid hormones. If I had had a little more faith in his fidelity, remembered that I am his type, how much time and work he's put into making me his ideal partner, and how much the two of us have built together, I wouldn't be hurting so much.

It took him a couple of days to cool off and forgive me, but after that I made sure that everything and anything I did was in his, therefore our family's, best interests. As the Man/Head of the House, it's his ass and reputation on the line for us, so it's my job to make sure that it's well covered. If I used numbers, I was always 70% team Rancher in this marriage, and after that I was 90% team Rancher (I still needed to get my way sometimes), but I went from 100% to 200% team Us.