I usually don’t. But this time, I did, and I still have the scars to prove it.
She slammed the door and walked out of the house. By the time I ran to catch her, she pulled out of the driveway and was gone. I knew she would be back. Well I hoped she would. She is my wife after all. It was no secret, we were having our problems lately. Nothing dramatic, a little lover’s spat, an occasional silent treatment, an argument here, a snap there. All that was boiling to this: The Door Slam.
I knew it was mostly my fault. I had been occupied with work lately and I did not have the time to pamper her like I used to. I had to do something or I was going to regret it.
Standing in a hotel room, a place I often visit because of my job as a sales man, I was looking out the window and thinking about that door slam. Out of all our jousts, the one I didn’t anticipate was that. I must have done something drastic to deserve that. But how do I fix it?
I think someone must like me, because the hotel I had chosen for my stay happened to be located next to an adult shop. Luck? I do believe in luck, but that was too good to be true.
I walked to the shop and browsed through their stuff like any full blooded male would, at ten o’clock at night when no one was around, until I found a nice fishnet bodystocking I knew she might like. I had bought her a few nice outfits on occasions and I knew she liked to wear those. I admit, she does look good in bodystockings. When I returned to my lonely hotel room I took a picture of what I bought and texted it to her.
Not even one of those stupid emojis to acknowledge I was still alive.
The next morning I resent the picture again. Maybe she didn’t receive it.
Now I started to panic. I think I received two speeding tickets as I drove back home.
Half the way back I received her reply. “You think you could bribe me with this?”
Then I took three more speeding tickets the rest of the way back.
At three in the morning I was home and she was asleep. I tiptoed to bed and snuck in to sleep next to her.
I usually don’t like to be awakened early in the morning but occasionally I do, specially when a fully dripping pussy is shoved in my face before breakfast.
She was straddling my face fully stoked in that bodystocking I bought her the night before, a flogger in her hand, and striking my cock with it. I often sleep naked and I was glad that day was one of those.
“If you ever FORGET again I’m going to string your cock right here in this room. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME? Now keep licking until I tell you to stop.”
Of course I had started licking way before that. The instant I felt her pussy suffocate the area where I usually do my breathing, my tongue had already started working out. Each time the strike of the whip hit my throbbing flinching cock, my tongue flickered faster. She loved oral and I loved giving it to her. The strikes kept intensifying with the strands of leather leaving their marks where they fell. My cock was feeling the effect of her anger but I didn’t dare stop to ask her why. She was mad at something so I had to take the grunt of her wrath until she cooled off. I’m not going to lie. I was enjoying that so why push my luck.
“Oh fuuuuckkkk…. Lick harder, HARDER….” She cried out. Suddenly she threw away the flogger and flopped face down on my poor red abused member. Her pussy was still straddling my mouth with her thighs locking my head in place. I dared not stop licking those folds and sucking her bud. Meanwhile she started working on my cock herself. She took my cock in her mouth, nursing the abuse she had inflicted on it moments earlier. It was as if my cock was on fire and she was putting it out of it’s misery with her mouth and saliva. My balls didn’t escape their turn either. As she sucked she pulled and I almost screamed, only she did before I did with another, “Oh… fuuuuckkkkkk….” Announcing her final defeat, she bucked and thrashed on my body with my cock still in her mouth. Naturally I could not wait any longer and I surrendered my last drop straight into her mouth.
We slumped on our sides of the bed trying to recover from this ordeal. I waited and waited until I finally had the courage to ask, “so what did I forget??!??”
She looked at me with ashes of wrath still lingering in her eyes, “my birthday you idiot. My fucking birthday…”
Oh shit!! That explains the door slam.
“I’m going to spend my whole life making up for this, aren’t I?”
“And the hereafter.”