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I pull away and silently chuckle when I feel her sag against my chest, soft little snores coming out of her mouth, now pressed against the side of my neck.
I knew it.
I sigh, gently extricating myself from our embrace.
I look down at my straining, hard cock and give it a quelling squeeze.
Sorry, buddy. Looks like it’s not our night.
I slip my boxers back on and sort out the rumpled blankets, pulling them upward again as I go. Then I lie down once more, trying to control my breathing and willing my arousal away.
When I feel like my heartbeat is back to normal, I gently reach for my sleeping wife and hug her to my side.
This time she doesn’t even stir.
I kiss her temple, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face as I settle us both in a more comfortable position, trying to ignore the way my cock is still valiantly attempting to get to her, and that’s when I recall a certain something and grin to myself.
Suddenly, I'm not feeling that sorry for my dick or myself anymore because my wife and I made a very particular bet on the eve of our ninth anniversary last year, and it looks like I just won.
That night, at my wife’s entreaty, we were discussing the dangers of finally becoming a boring, old married couple. A danger she seemed, incomprehensibly to me, genuinely worried about.
I told her I was positive it would never happen to us –a thing I’m still pretty sure of.
We had spent the last couple of days at home from work, running behind little Piper, who back then had just discovered the joys of climbing onto every piece of furniture she could reach while we attempted to take care of four incredibly cranky kids sick with a bout of flu.
We were both exhausted, and my wife was feeling sad because we had to postpone our plans for a romantic weekend away to celebrate our anniversary since there was no way we were letting our children out of our sight while they were sick.
So that night, after having put Piper to bed five times in a row, following an afternoon of mopping up more puke than four little kids should be able to produce, and after spending hours consoling our crying children and doing everything and anything we could think of to help lessen their symptoms, we finally climbed to bed. While we were kissing, we had to break away from each other because we were both yawning. That was enough to precipitate a crisis and that bizarre conversation about being this close to becoming old married people with no time for passion in their life.
I tried to tease my wife out of her bad mood by proposing a bet.
To squash any possibleold-couplefuture threat on the horizon, we promised that if it ever happened that one of us actually fell asleep during a hot moment, the person would have to go down on the one who had managed to stay awake for an hour the very next day.
She definitely lost tonight.
I smirk.
Not that her falling asleep on me means anything about us finally becoming an old married couple, a point that I will be sure to stress tomorrow.
Carina and I are still crazy about each other, and our passion always burns bright. We have a very active, quite amazing sex life that has nothing to envy to those first scorching months we shared a decade ago when we first got together.
If anything, we’re even hotter for each other.
Still, I’m not about to turn down an entire hour of enjoying my beautiful wife’s pouty lips on me. Oral is always on the table with us, both the giving and the receiving, but no way we can manage a full hour of it with five little kids always underfoot.
Good thing I already asked my parents to watch the horde for us tomorrow.
I planned to take my wife away to a nearby spa so she could get some R&R since she’s been going crazy for a week straight organizing this birthday party. And, of course, knowing both myself and my wife, a long, nice fuck was in the works anyway, but now…
Not only am I going to cash on this bet and prove to my wife we are far, far from old, thank you very much, but after I get my hour down her sweet, soft throat, I’m going to definitely spend another between my queen’s legs, enjoying a long, long tasting of my favorite treat and I won’t stop until she’s hoarse from screaming my name.
I’ll be sure to make every minute count, and by the time we’re done, none of us will feel like we lost a bet.
In fact, I plan on both of us winning many, many times. Not for an hour or even just two.
We’re going to take the whole day just for us, and resting will be the furthest thing from our minds.
Boring old couple, my ass!
THE END
