I really am …

… to use Evie The Rabbit‘s word … insatiable.

It was only yesterday we agreed [Did we agree, or was it my unilateral suggestion?] to make time for sex on Tuesday nights and Sunday mornings.
It is only 16 or so hours until we will test our collective resolve for the first time.
It was only last week that I resolved to stop flaunting my horniness quite so much.
And yet …

Two hours before the alarm clock and I’m awake with a hand clasping my hard-on.
My Wife’s breathing and movement suggests She’s awake too.
I reach across to Her and am not rejected.
Where my hand sits on Her side, a finger tip rests against the initial curve of Her tit. As Her chest rises and falls with Her breathing, so does my hand. I make no effort to stop my finger tip reciprocating over Her form. Quite the opposite. Rhythmically I match Her movement.  Nothing gratuitous – barely perceptible – ambiguity of intent.

She turns away and tries to go to sleep.
I don’t even bother as I know with absolute certainty I won’t.
She fails.

Eventually She turns back to me, rests Her head on my shoulder and an arm across my chest.
I take my hand away from my cock and consciously allow my turgid, twitching member to nudge the duvet repeatedly. I can feel its movement on the far side Her arm, so She can feel it too.

In a gesture of blatant magnanimity, I move my hand back to my dick, shielding Her from its irritating spasms.
Slowly She falls back to sleep.
Her breathing becomes slow, deep, content, dormant.

Slowly I pull back my foreskin.
I think about how She said put your fingers in me a bit.

Slowly my thumb circles my knob.
I remember the rippled edges of Her labia.

Slowly I pull back hard, stretching my frenulum to the threshold of pleasure and pain.
I imagine the warmth of Her cunt, tight and wet, as I’d sink a finger deep into Her haven.

Slowly I rub around the ridge of my helmet.
I wonder if She’ll ever be willing to try the vibrating cock ring, and what She’ll feel as I grind it against Her clit.

Slowly I massage my shaft.
I fantasise about the taste of Her juices, as I’d lick them from Her slit.

Slowly I smear the relentless droplets of pre-cum over my glans.
My hand and cock are covered in my slick juice.

Slowly. Because my Wife is asleep, lying across my chest, and any more will wake Her, alert Her to my self-abuse. And I do not want there to be any awkwardness. No reluctance, objections, barriers to us making time for sex tonight.

And She sleeps.
And I wank.
And I really am insatiable.

14 Responses to “I really am …”

  1. Oh, well… you and a good few of us 🙂
    I hope the evening went as well as the morning 🙂

  2. I think you really must love your wife.

    • You’re not the first of my readers to make that observation. I’m not sure I can define what I think love is, nor justify attribution of that label to my emotions. It may be a reflection on male (or just my) sexuality, but it feels more like I love Her when we fuck regularly.

  3. hmmmmpfff…

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