A Relaxing Night at Home

Author's Note: A quick short story I hope you enjoy.

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Helen came home after a long day of work at the Marketing Agency she established more than ten years ago. She did the best she could and two years ago she received an offer she could not ignore. She was bought out by a company that wanted to enter the local market in the Kansas City area. Chapman, only forty minutes away from downtown made it a perfect place. Helen Abramson Marketing became part of a much larger and national company.

She was to stay and run the old business, while her new partner focused on gaining the national clients in the area. It seemed like a great idea at the time. Helen's side of the business had exponential growth the first eighteen months. Then the sniping started. The new partner kept accusing Helen of poaching national clients.

The new owners settled every dispute. They arbitrarily assigned any new clients. Some went to Abramson Marketing or the parent company Signal Marketing. In six months, Abramson Marketing received one of the twelve new clients. The were quick to make matters worse. They took almost thirty percent of the old Abramson Marketing clients. Each assigned to Signal.

I was looking at my new workload when Helen entered my home office. She dressed in a dark blue dress, knee length and very tight around her body. Her blue-black hair lay perfectly over her shoulders. There wasn't a curl or even the hint of a curl on her gorgeous mane. Her verdant eyes focused on mine and she approached.

"How was your day..." I asked as I kept my eyes on hers.

"It was one of the worst days I've had in the two years since we sold the company." She leaned down and kissed my lips.

"What happened?" I patted my lap for her to sit and talk to me. She smiled and took me up on it. Her hand reaching down between my legs to confirm her suspicion.

"Someone is happy to see me, or were you watching porn?" She let her small, round heart shaped ass land on my lap. She positioned herself to feel the hardness.

"I'm happy to see you," I tapped the spacebar. The screen came to life on a very long list of things that I needed to get done.

"Yeah, that certainly did not give you the hardon, it may give you heartaches, but not hardons. You've not turned masochist, have you?" she smiled and kissed me again.

"Nope, I don't enjoy the pain of trudging through the start of a new business."

"So, tell me, what happened?" I nudged her a bit, and traced the zipper from shoulders down, making it feel like I could be unzipping her.

She laughed, it was her usual comfortable and open laugh. She ran her fingers through her hair. It was her typical relaxation move. For me, it was one of her hottest simple motions: it showed the true luster of her hair.

"You're not going to let me get away with it, huh?" The sparkle in her eyes told me she needed to unload it.

"Never!" I grinned from ear to ear.

"Alana called today." Her tone professional but very sour.

"That's never a good thing."

"No, and today was no different. She wanted to let me know of more changes. There were three more of my top clients that they were going to move to Signal in the next few weeks. It's because of their national potential. She then added that Abramson Marketing just was not equipped to get the full value for the client." She stood up and paced.

I said nothing.

"They think because we do the work for the local that we don't have a national impact. We've done amazing things for the companies here in Kansas City. We've helped them reach national and global markets. Hell," she ran her hand through her hair again, "we put many of these local companies on the Global stage. We've taken GPS and made it synonymous with the company." She paused thinking for a moment.

I nodded and waited.

"Hell, remember when the GPS market moved from standalone units to phones and car systems. We warned them early enough and they took the lead. They were first on many of the phone platforms. Then, they worked out a deal with the big-three and they private brand for all of them. Who did that for them? Signal? Hell no! We, the tiny marketing company they bought because we were the best. Now, they forget all about why they bought us."

She leaned on the edge of my desk. I watched as she undid three of the buttons. It transformed the dress from professional to evening wear. I looked deep into my wife's cleavage, and then slowly up into her eyes.

She smiled, "Like the view, mister?"

"Love the view, missus Abramson." I leaned and kissed the bare flesh.

"I'm glad someone remembers why they are with me." She laughed, but this time the laughter never made it to her eyes. It was a sad laugh, one that carried a lot of pain with it.

"Look, Helen, they are idiots. They think that their way is the only way. They think that because they took the national route and succeeded, locals are not as good. The fact is the locals are what made the national company."

"I know, that's what's so frustrating. Even at the board meetings I get ignored. I don't mind it so much, but there are opportunities that they are completely missing. We are so much more than a Marketing company. We are about the market each of our clients serve."

She stopped talking, leaned over, and kissed me. I felt her warm lips want more, so I offered my tongue to her lips. She parted them and accepted my invasion and caressed me with her own need. Helen's softness was an aphrodisiac. I was instantly thinking of putting away my work till later. We slowly parted our kiss; she opened her eyes and kissed my forehead.

"Michael, are we doing anything this weekend?" Sex was a stress reliever for both of us. Early last year we started our Stag-Vixen journey. We made it passed the first few tentative steps. In the last couple of months, we had become more active. Often it was a trip to a local swing club. There were times we'd travel to the various big cities here in the Midwest and explore what they had. In just about every case, we found kindred spirits. Each had a strong focus on relationships. They wanted connections. We had our fair share of bed notching couples. They are the ones that only focus on how many couples they've fucked. For the most part, they were few and far between.

"I had made no plans. I wanted to see what you were interested in doing. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. After getting fucked-over at work, I think I want to get fucked for pleasure and adventure." Her verdant eyes smoldered with hunger.

I laughed. We had come a long way. We almost split up. We learned to have open communication. We started to talk about sex with others. Then we had a memorable first night of sharing our bed with friends.

"I think you have a great idea."

She ruffled my short hair and started out of my office.

"I'm going upstairs. I'm going to take a bath and likely chat with a few friends to see what they are up to. I may end up in the basement, in the sauna. We'll see." With that she left the room, and I was left with a raging hardon.

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About two hours later, when I got all my work done, I went looking for Helen. She was not upstairs, so I changed out of my work clothes and put-on sweatpants and a light sweatshirt.

When I got to the basement, I saw Helen sitting in the middle of the room. Her brow was deeply furrowed, and she had a distant look. I walked up to her and started to rub her shoulders. She was very tight, so I took a few moments to work my way up from her lower back, releasing all her knots. She let out a few moans and let her head fall back to look up at me.

"Am I still desirable, Mike?" The tone told me immediately this was no joking matter, or sexy banter.

"I find you incredibly sexy. As you can tell ..." I moved next to her so she could easily see my sweatpants. "Any time I'm around you I am at least semi-hard, or rock hard like I am now."

"Would you cum in my mouth, for your pleasure, not mine?" she had a small tear forming in the corner of her eye. "Will you use my mouth?"

"Will you swallow it?" I smiled, knowing she'd never spit out my seed.

"I think I need it. No, that's not exactly right. I know I need it. But, it has to be because you want to, not just because I asked and because men are ready to stroke at a moment's notice."

That was a big load. There was something deep inside her that was not right, but she wanted a break from thinking about it. That had to be it.

I took my sweatpants and shorts off and held my cock in my hand right next to her lips. As an uncut man, I'm always concerned about any bad smells from the day. I was a bit hesitant.

"What's wrong, you don't want it now?" The depth of her anguish made her voice quiver. There was true fear, and potential devastation lurking behind the statement.

"No, I was wondering if I smelled of the day. You know."

"Fuck it. Take what you want or leave me alone. Got it?" she was hurt, and she was not joking.

I shoved my cockhead onto her lips. Her tongue came out and ran a circle around the head. I took my time and pulled the skin back exposing it all, but I kept stroking my cock. I did not use her mouth. I wanted her to watch me stroke.

"Take off the top, I want to see your tits while I jack off." I never stopped stroking.

She leaned forward. Her lips encapsulated the tip of my cock and her tongue traced the slit. She removed her top, letting it fall to the chair. She took off her bra and left her c-cups free. I continued to stroke through her delicious work. It had to be to my desire, not my desire to always make sure my wife got hers before I got mine.

I had never thought that was important for Helen. The feeling of being a sexual being and not a wife. The morning I knew we were back to being a family after months of separation, she made this concept clear to me. She made me leave without a kiss or any cuddling after a very hot session. It was hard for me, but it worked for her. It seemed this was the right time for a repeat.

I lengthened the strokes over my hardness and looked at her tits as she squeezed her nipples. At first, I thought she was giving me a show. One look at her eyes and her tongue on her lips, and I knew I was in my world, and she was in hers.

I found the rhythm I liked best. I am a three finger stroker. Every porn movie we watch, the male star always uses his entire fist. I like the pressure I can put on the top as I go over the head. I like how quickly it can fade away and then return. The full fist just feels different. I guess it is all about how you did it the first time.

I watched Helen get closer. She had a hand between her legs, and over her yoga pants. They were becoming a bit darker around her vagina. Her eyes were lost in my stroking motion. The full lips kept getting wetted by her tongue. It never stopped.

"Do it ..." it was a plea.

"That's it, do it ..." A deep husky voice reverberated in our basement.

I kept stroking, watching her fingers pinch her nipples and pulling them out. I thought that had to hurt, but her eyes never moved from the tip of my cock.

"God, I need this so bad. Do it, do it Mike." She growled.

I felt that spark ignite at the base of my cock, behind my balls. It's the first place I feel the orgasm start. I have a few seconds to fight it or release it. Once that short amount of time passes, nothing short of a cork can stop me.

The look in Helen's eyes told me that if I held back, I better be bringing a bigger load than usual. I took the challenge in her eyes. I kept stroking. I tightened my body and refused to surrender to the pleasure of filling my wife's mouth.

She reached for a drink I had not noticed on the table beside her. She took a sip, looked at my cock, looked back at the drink, and the corner of her mouth turned up.

"Can you shoot once in my mouth, and then let the rest fill my glass?" She held it up for emphasis.

I simply nodded. I was in a major losing battle with my orgasm. Her kinky words almost pushed me to go a bit earlier than I wanted.

"I want to drink your seed the rest of the night, as I consume my drink."

There's a moment in a man's orgasm process that everything sounds sexy. It is the time to tell your husband you are fucking his best friend. It is the time to tell him you love to sniff your own underwear. He'll just think it kinky-hot and explode. Afterward. Well, afterwards you have to tread lightly. That which is hot during the moments before ejaculation, are not hot afterwards. I've often wondered if women were the same way.

I stroked and the pressure built up so high, it was now painful. Like a razor cutting the tube between my balls and my cock. That level of painful. I knew I was toast. She had me.

I grunted a primordial utterance that filled the room. The first rope jetted out of the tip of my cock and into Helen's open mouth. Her eyes lit up the room. She had what she wanted. My orgasm because I wanted to cum. I had what I wanted. The release of the biggest rope since I was a teenager. In our twenty-seven-year marriage, Helen had found ways to make me euphoric with pleasure. Tonight, she'd found a new way to take me even higher.

She moved the glass closer to her mouth. I aimed for it and used her chin as a backboard. I sprayed four more ropes and it all ended up in the glass. When I was done, I put my spent but hard cock in her mouth. She sucked it, licked it, and sucked it some more till I was completely clean.

Neither one of us spoke.

I picked up my sweatpants and short and tossed them to the bottom of the stairs. I took her top and bra and did the same thing.

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For the next hour we sat in the workout room, up against the mats, chatting on her phone with various friends.

Helen picked up the glass from time to time. I watched as she moved the liquid around. She made sure I noticed as she drank the alcohol and what was left of my cum. Every time she did that, my cock twitched. Not bad for a forty-seven-year-old man.

Helen enjoyed telling what we did and asked if any of the husbands had the same experience. Ken said that Anna enjoyed some of the kinkier uses of cum, but she had never had a mixed drink with it. Anna joined the conversation and told Helen to ignore her comment.

Anna: "Mike, next time we are together you're going to have to let me use you in a mixed drink."

Helen shouted as I pressed record, "Anna, you are a slut!"

Ken jumped into the conversation. "You better smile when you say that."

"You were not supposed to listen." Came Anna's response with a bunch of laughter from both her and Ken.

We agreed to meet the following weekend up in Des Moines at the local club. Helen and Anna worked out sleeping arrangements, so we did not need a hotel.

I guess our weekend was going to be a wild one.

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Author's note: Please leave a comment and let me know the good, the bad and the ugly of the scene above. One only improves by getting feedback.

Happy 2021, stay safe, stay healthy and most of all stay horny!