A heavy thud comes from the entryway, followed by my husband's favorite swear word, "Motherfucker!"
I suppress a smile, knowing exactly what comes next. No good wife would hope that her spouse has a bad day at work, but the way he makes love when he's in desperate need of release... let's just say being a bad wife serves me just fine.
"Rough day, hon?" I call from the kitchen sink, elbow-deep in dirty dishes and bright yellow rubber gloves. It's a formality.
He doesn't greet me, he never does when he's like this. Thudding footsteps get closer, and my body already begins reacting to the well-established dance. I feign nonchalance, continuing with my cleaning, knowing that in just a few seconds, he'll be spreading my legs and fucking me hard against the rim of the sink. My knees almost buckle as I feel his warmth behind me.
"Turn around," he growls.
Turn around? Startled by the switch in routine, I don't move as quickly as he wants me to. Meaty palms grab the outsides of my shoulders and spin me, sudsy water flinging from my gloves in a spiral.
"Barry!" I exclaim. He knows I like it rough, but he hasn't put his hands on me like this since before the wedding.
"On your knees," he pushes me down to the floor hard, offering no apologies. I glare at him, now waist high, pinned between his muscled body and the counter. "Open your jaw. No hands," is his next demand.
I open my mouth, just barely. Barry offers a devious smile as his pants fall around his ankles, his veined cock already heavy against his thigh. He takes himself in one hand, and my chin in the other.
"Good wife," he sighs, rolling the tip around my lips. "You're gonna get my cock soaking wet, then I'm going to show you what I brought you today," he presses into me, his dick sliding easily over my lips.
I'm excited, but just the smallest bit concerned as I look up at my husband. Insufferably handsome, he looks at me with dangerous eyes, and my curiosity has never been higher. What could he possibly have brought for me? I open my mouth wider, pulling him into the back of my throat. I see a flash of excitement on his face as I rarely let him go this deep, but he stifles it quickly. I close my lips around him, forcing a groan to rumble from his chest. He asked for wet, so that's what I'll give him. The sides of my tongue curl up, cradling his shaft entirely, and I begin to bob my head. The effort presses his tip into my soft palate repeatedly, coaxing out more and more spit from underneath my tongue.
"Oh fuck," Barry buckles, pulling his cock out of my mouth, surely seconds from cumming. He holds himself at the base, smacking my cheek with his spit-soaked erection.
With a grin, he abandons me on my knees, damp gloves soaking into my cotton sweatpants. I watch him leave the room, returning a minute later with a small box. Sex toys aren't something we've ever tried... ever. "Really, Barry? Is my body not enough for you anymore?" I ask, half-joking.
"Bend over the table, ass out," he replies. The box lid opens, and he pulls out a thin dildo with a ring attached at the base. My mind can't quite work out how he's expecting to use it, and my confusion is wholly apparent to my husband. "Now," he scolds, slapping the flesh-colored toy against his palm. The crack brings me to my feet, and a punch bowl of emotions sloshes around inside me as I stand to face him: curiosity, confusion, excitement, anxiety. He glances at the kitchen table, expecting my naked ass spread across it immediately.
In a couple strides, my hips are against the edge of the table, and my sweatpants are in a pile at my socked feet. I peek over my shoulder, and see that Barry is staring straight at my ass. I bend slowly, opening for him. My pussy has been wet since he crashed through the front door, becoming even moreso as this has encroached on threatening.
"Barry, I know you've had a bad day, babe, but you're freaking me out a litt- UH!" I feel the urgent penetration of something other than my husband. The silicone forces me open, piercing into my deepest parts, and making my eyes cross. Nowhere near as thick as he is, the toy has room to move, and he takes full advantage. My breath quickens as Barry begins to work me, slowly fucking my dripping pussy and watching it clench in frustrated excitement. "That's it, girl," he sighs.
His voice is a aphrodisiac in itself, the tone makes my body clench, and sends a droplet of moisture down my inner thigh. "Please, sir... what are you going to do with me?" I use my most innocent voice, knowing how much that gets under his skin.
I completely underestimated exactly what that tone would do to him. I feel the toy yanked from my core, and look back in time to see Barry pulling a long strand of black fabric from his work bag. "On your back," he commands, slapping it down on the tabletop. Fear prickles up my spine, and I flip over like a pancake. The squeaking of my gloves reminds me that they're still on, and I go to remove them, but Barry stands over me and snags my wrist.
The tied end of the fabric strand loops around my captured hand, and, with his massive wingspan, he reaches under me, pulling the fabric along the underside of the table, looping it around my other wrist, and knotting it. When I pull at the bindings, my arms bend painfully at the shoulders, but something about the restriction heightens my senses. My eyes leave the knots around my wrist and find Barry's gaze. He's standing between my legs, stroking his cock. He looks at me with half-closed lids, and a smile that only shows his teeth on one side.
As my eyes fall down his perfect body I see that he's stroking not one, but two dicks. His thumb and pointer finger surround his own erection, while his other fingers surround the sex toy he had showed me earlier. The cock ring that made up the base is around his shaft, both making him harder than I'd ever seen while also adding an entirely new element to our sex play. I stare at him shamelessly, my pussy twitching in anticipation of being taken in this new and exciting way.
