Weeknights: Monday

"Hey honey, I'm home," I call out as I step through the garage door into the mud room behind the kitchen. I toss my keys in the bowl on the table to my right and drop my bag underneath the same as I close the door behind me. Looking up straight for the first time, I see my wife Eliza sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter directly in front of me. She's wearing a giant, baggy sweatshirt with the overlong arms covering her hands adorably while she eats a bowl of cold cereal. Her usual light makeup has already been removed, her disheveled hair in a lazy ponytail. Slouching against the high bar behind her, the sweatshirt is tucked under her bare ass to protect it from the cold counter, but her legs are spread wide and the sweatshirt has a suspiciously convenient fold across her tits, pulling the hem above her pubic mound and affording me a clear view of the neon pink tail of an internal vibrator hanging from her oozing vagina. I can see the tail wiggling in a manner that suggests the maximum setting is currently in use.

"Fuck. Mondays." Eliza says around a mouthful of cereal. This is not an unusual sentiment from her - she normally works from home but the company does require her to go in to the office for Monday meetings. Holding her cereal bowl in one hand, she yanks the pink toy out of herself by the tail and throws it at me. I catch it against my chest with one hand, getting both hand and shirt wet. "I'm sorry?" I whimper with sarcastic remorse. "You should be," she sneers in reply, "I've been waiting for for my evening service for, like, fifteen minutes. Dick. Now." the punctuated words paired with a snapped point of one finger straight down at her gaping hole.

I release my straining cock from it's denim constraints with a grin. Evening service is more than a routine for us - it's practically a religion. We've each fucked, been fucked, or masturbated several times since I left the house this morning when we last saw each other. Just like any average day for any average person. But while we can have random sex anywhere, anytime, all day, we can only have married sex here, now, tonight. I was hard in the car, hell, I'm normally hard before I've left the office.

With two steps, I get my cockhead partway through her slowly shrinking opening, like Indiana Jones rolling under a closing trap door. It's no accident that our kitchen counters are the exact right height for a standing fuck; our contractor measured us for it in several specific poses when we remodeled. As I slide up to the counter's edge and all the way into her cunt, Eliza stares at me warily out of the top of her eyes over the bowl she's still eating cereal from. "'bout time," she play-pouts as she dips the spoon again. As I ramp up my thrusting, she continues to eat her cereal with a bored air. So I shift my timing such that I slam into her at just the right moment to slosh milk onto her face when she brings the bowl to her mouth for a careful bite.

With wide eyes, my wife sets the bowl on the counter and pulls my mouth to her face to make me lick the sweetened milk off her chin. Before I can finish she bites my tongue hard in her teeth and holds it in her sucking mouth while she starts working her hips hard against my fucking strokes, clawing my back with her unpainted nails. After a few hot minutes I slow down but drill deeper as I edge up to my orgasm. Sensing my approaching release, Eliza pushes me away and slides off the counter to get behind me. Taking my stalled cock with her dominant hand, she begins a furious handjob as she slides her half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of me. Her offhand disappears behind me but I can feel her moving against my back as she rubs herself rapidly. Knowing what she wants from me is all I need to explode as her loving hand aims my spasming prick into the bowl. With gentle strokes she milks a massive load out of me until my balls have nothing left and the bowl is so completely covered that no cereal bites are able to rise above the floating layer of my cream.

Eliza hops back up on the counter and picks up the bowl. She dips her spoon in, pulling up a bite of cereal so coated in jizz it looks like it's been dipped in white chocolate. "So..." she says as she tips the overflowing spoon into her mouth "... how was work?"