Wake Up, Honey

[ favorite this story ]

“Babe, babe,” my husband murmured. I was still catching up on my REM cycle, so his calling me was not bit welcome.

“Go away.”

“Babe, come on, open your eyes please honey,” he continued. He sounded so forlorn, so child-like so I opened my eyes. His amazing brown eyes greeted my sight, the warm hazels that I fell in love many years ago. He was smiling goofily, with a tint of lust. My eyes drew down his long body, ever so slightly hairy like I love my men, with lean muscles and abs that could cut steel, down to the hair surrounding his rampantly rising cock, eight inches of blood-engorged thickness, with its charming mushroom head dripping precum on the sheets. “Honey, I wake up horny,” my husband muttered, and began humping on my sheet-covered body. “I wanna fuck.”

I took a glance at the clock and groaned aloud. It was 4.02 a.m. “Oh baby, I do too, but last night was hell, I had to catch up to Roy and the guys, can you please … take care of it yourself this time?”

His look damn near broke my heart. I supposed I could have worded it differently, but my mind was still simultaneously sleep-addled and sleep-deprived. In other words, get out the fleshjack, babe, I’m sleeping. My husband pulled back his underwear, a grungy pair of blue plaid boxers that was probably his since college, covering his delectable cock from my view.

“That’s okay, I understand babe, sorry.” He gave me a chaste kiss on the cheek. “I’ll start coffee or something,” he continued, dragging his feet on the floor of our bedroom. Like a zombie, a sex-denied zombie. I would have laughed if I were not still too sleepy to bother. I let out a grunt and continued on my sleep.

I woke up at 8 a.m. from the alarm, showered and dressed myself. I was due at the office today at 9 a.m. so I had plenty of time. I caught glimpse of a card slotted on the bedside mirror: “Sorry, babe XXX”. My husband was a really sweet caring man, I regretted how things turned out but what could one do? I went to the kitchen to have some breakfast, that was when I noticed my husband never did start the coffee. Strange.

That evening I clocked out on time - for once - and went home. My husband was already home from his work, and my cousin Bobby, who was staying with us for his interviews in the city. Apparently they were knee deep in chit-chat when I came in and suddenly became quiet. I took a look at them: my husband, who could make an uncanny Jim from the Office any day, and Bobby, slender, waif-like Bobby, who with his protruding ears and perpetual smile made him look like a mischievous elf.

“Hi babe,” my husband leant down to kiss me. “How was work?” That set off the conversation flow again, and the prior silence faded away.

Later that night I was feeling rather hot, I had scored two deals back-to-back at work and wanted to celebrate with a good deep satisfying fuck with my handsome husband. As it turned out my husband came out of the en-suite in a chaste pajama and promptly said “Good night, babe,” and switched off the light. I was almost furious before I remembered how I treated him this morning when he wanted sex, let out a sigh and tucked myself in.

I woke up at 2 a.m. and went to the bathroom to have a piss. The TV was on in the front room, and my husband was not in bed beside me. I was not worried, he sometimes did this when he wanted to watch soccer from some international game or other, and he knew of my disdain for that game. I walked out of the bedroom for a glass of water. Then I heard a low sound, like a groan. I put down my glass gently and tiptoed to the front room. The way the house was laid out there was a long hallway before it opened up into the living room. I crept along the dark hallway before peeking into the living room.

The TV was on, showing some soccer game. My husband was sitting on his favorite armchair, the one facing the TV. He was naked from the thighs up, his pajama pants holding fort at his knees. His bare cock was smothered in spit and precum. Bobby was sitting between his legs, watching my husband’s face intently. My husband in turn was fixed at the mouth that was lying inches from his erection, not doing its proper job of sucking him.

“Come on, suck me now,” my husband stage-whispered. “I just need a few minutes to cum.” Apparently I caught them during a lull in the activities. I kept my head down and listened.

“I know. That’s why I stopped. This time - this time? - I want you to fuck me.”

“Fuckin’ yeah.” I watched as Bobby turned and presented his ass for my husband’s perusal. He must had liked the merchandise presented, because after a second of watching that new ass wink at him he proceeded to eat that ass like it was his last feast on God’s creation. They were not even worried about the sloppy wet noises, they must have thought the sounds of the TV were covering their act.

“Fuck man, your ass tastes delicious,” my husband murmured.

“Come fuck my ass,” ordered Bobby.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” I teared up. ‘Princess’ was what he would call me when he was feeling especially amorous. Hearing him calling someone else that … not gonna lie, hurt my soul a bit. I watched as Bobby leant over my husband, adjusted his hole over my husband’s cock and slid down the length, at which point my husband and Bobby let out deep reverberating groans.

“Fuck your ass, fucking tight.”

“Mmm, your cock’s so big and hard inside me.”

At this I turned away. To see and hear any more of their betrayal would make something snap in my head. I just couldn’t, wouldn’t. I heard them reach their climaxes from the safety of my bed, our bedroom. I was lying in a fetal position when I dimly heard my husband came in, smelling of sweat, sex and cum. He made straight for the en-suite, and started the shower. As I heard him I looked up and saw again his sorry card.