Neil was still in the bathroom. She could see its light down the hall and she could hear him brushing his teeth. Melinda took a deep breath and studied herself in the mirror. Was it right? Was she perfect, for him? Oh, she hoped.
Her hair was loose and lustrous, framing an oval face with strongly chiseled features. Melinda shook her hair, delighting in the way it shimmered and fell into place around her face, onto her shoulders. She rarely wore makeup – her eyes were naturally dark, her lips and cheeks healthy pink – but the modest amount she'd just applied highlighted her features and made them, she hoped, irresistibly appealing.
"Please," she whispered softly, puckering her lips. They made a softly muted red bow, glossy in the bedroom's diffused light.
She turned, profiling before the mirror, and the effect was dramatic. At least, she hoped it was dramatic.
Melinda's negligee was a pale green silk, transparent as plastic cup, though the coloration kept it from being blatantly revealing. But the curves of her pink body showed through – the full high roundness of her tits, the thrust of her hips, the sleekness of her thighs. Facing the mirror, she could see how the clinging silk emphasized her tits, allowed the dark nipple pads to show. She stroked her palms across her breasts, loving the feel of the fabric against them, and her nipples began to erect, punching their outlines into the silk. It was a sexy gown, she was certain. It had cost her ninety dollars and she hoped the expenditure would prove worthwhile.
"Not bad for twenty-nine," she smiled at herself, and the Melinda in the mirror smiled too. It was a pretty smile – but was it pretty enough? Melinda threw back her shoulders, making her tits lift bravely. Alluring, she thought. Pretty isn't what you need.
She half closed her eyes, peering at herself through the slits, and she made her lips curl into an enigmatic smile. A smile that promised much, she thought critically. Oh, God, let it deliver too!
Melinda stole a peek out the door, just in time to see the bathroom light going out. She sucked in her breath, listening for the sound of Neil's feet down the hallway. In a moment he'd be here, ready for bed. And she…
He came into the bedroom, wearing the bottom half of his pajamas, and he stopped in the doorway. Melinda was lying gracefully on the bed, her legs stretching, and her body at a diagonal across the sheets. He couldn't get into bed without displacing her. Or accommodating her.
"Hello, darling," she said lightly, her heart beating like a blacksmith's anvil in her ears. "Are you ready for bed too?"
He nodded, taking a step toward her. "Uh, is that new?" he wondered, indicating the green negligee.
Melinda sat up, wishing this were an old fashioned bed, with a headboard she could prop herself against. But even as she rearranged herself, she made damned sure that her legs stretched across Neil's side of the marriage bed, reminding him that she was here, that she was available, that she… The aroma of perfume rose from the deep valley between her tits, and she drew fresh resolve from that heady fragrance.
"Come here," she said huskily, extending one hand toward her husband. He came closer but he didn't take her hand. He only stood there, looking at her. Melinda felt a lump in her throat and her vision seemed to blur. Was he rejecting the offer of her body too? He stood like a statue, only his eyes moving.
Melinda rose onto her knees and she leaned toward Neil. She felt the silk stretch tight across her breast and she knew that he could see her pink flesh through the green wisp of gown. Could he not smell the scent of her prepared body, too? Was he blind and deaf and sexless too? "Neil," she said. "Come to me. Touch me." And she seized his nearest, idle hand, drawing it to her breast. "Feel my nipple," she invited. "Feel how stiff it is? God, Neil, all of me is just as excited as that nipple! All of me wants you… now… here… oh, come here!"
He was a medium-tall man, athletically built, but he seemed pliable as jelly then. "Melinda…" he said as she pulled him onto the bed, as she twisted his face round so she could bruise it with the crushing, heated ferocity of her kisses. His fist tightened on her breast, and Melinda groaned into her husband's mouth as her nipple seemed to convulse against the heat of his palm, through the silky lasciviousness of her gown, and she felt her breast swelling, engorging, and hardening in his grip.
Ahhh, she thought in excitement, lying back. Neil moved with her but there was no enthusiasm. Her hand stroked up and down his back and she found only tension, reluctance. Damn you! She cursed silently, and her fingers stole beneath the waistband of his pajama pants.
She rubbed him, rubbed until she felt heat stirring in the cheeks of his ass, a moistness in the crack between those checks, and then she rubbed harder, Neil stirred, lifting one leg, and his mouth slipped from hers. "Honey," he said apologetically, "I don't think I can…"
"Don't think, don't talk!" she whispered, and her lips brushed a trail of licks and kisses down his neck, onto his chest. For a man of thirty he had precious little hair on his chest, she thought, just as her mouth homed in on one tiny nipple.
"Ohhhh…" He ovaled his mouth into a moan as Melinda began to lick and suck his erecting treat. Her lips pulled on his rubbery flesh, her teeth gnashed provocatively, as Neil's little tip stiffened in her mouth like a teeny, tiny cock.
A cock. Melinda's hand moved inside Neil's pajamas, switching attack from his rear to his front. If he had little hair on his chest, he had a forest of it in his groin, and she let her fingers slide teasingly through that forest, flirting with the root of his limp cock. Her fingers scissoring upon the base of Neil's pecker, squeezing the tool where it sprouted from his lower abdomen, sliding down around to tickle his nuts from above, and she made her mouth even more aggressive upon his extended nipple, praying that he'd show some response. Soon, God, soon! His prick felt so tiny and defenseless when it was limp. So tiny. So defenseless.
And so Goddamned fucking useless!
Melinda let her fingers slide down further, scissor-locking around the shaft of his prick. She tightened, loosened, tightened again, and panting as she fought to squeeze life into Neil's lazy pecker. He strained against her. "I don't think it's going to work," he said in a tight voice, his hand coming down to touch her. "Look, honey, I'm really knocked out. Why don't we just go to sleep and forget it?"
Melinda sniffed, catching the aroma of her sexy perfume. She looked down at her green silk negligee, the seductive gown she'd worn tonight specifically to seduce her husband. But how could you seduce a man whose cock wouldn't even stiffen for his perfumed, negligeed, seductive wife? And how did you know when a marriage was going sour, when divorce was inevitably waiting just around the bend?
Melinda pulled her hand out of Neil's pajamas.
She sat back, legs cutting beneath her, and she sighed heavily. Neil put his hand on her shoulder. "I've had a hard day," he told Melinda. "I'm just not in the mood."
She looked up, dark eyes flashing. "You're never in the mood lately! You work late almost every night. You come home, eat your supper, and fall into bed. Neil, what's happening to us? I think you care more for your job than you do for me."
"For Christ's sake, honey, it isn't like that at all!"
"Then why… why don't you want to make love to me?"
"Oh, damn it, Melinda!" He lifted the sheets and crawled under, sliding into comfortable sleeping position. His back was turned to Melinda and she stared at it, drawing no more comfort from his bare shoulders than she had gotten from the rest of him.
"I take it the discussion is over?" she sniffed.
"I suppose so."
"The hell you say!"
Melinda flung the sheets off him, quickly, surprisingly, and Neil turned over. "Oh, for…"
She grabbed the waistband of his pajamas and jerked them down. He didn't have time to protest or prevent and, since he wore nothing under his pajamas, his soft cock was bare in a twinkling sort of way.
Soft and tiny, curled like a little worm across the medium-sized bag of stones, a flash of skin in a curly sea of pubic hair. Melinda grabbed it in one hot palm and she squeezed viciously, gasping with the intensity of her attack. She felt him throb in her hand and she was positive that Neil's cock engorged ever so slightly.
He twisted his body, as if he meant to slip out of her possessive grip, but she had him firmly by the prick. "No," Melinda announced dictatorially. And then she yanked his tool as if she were milking a cow. He stretched in her fist, but did he harden?
A little, maybe. He felt stiffer, as if some life had finally begun to ooze stealthily into his penis. She looked at his face. His eyes were averted, resisting her fierce demanding stare. She pulled away, and this time she was certain. He was starting to get at least a semi-erection.
Well, a semi-erection was better than he'd been doing lately. Goddamn his job, if it was draining him of his manhood, destroying their sex life!
They'd been married four years and for three and a half of those years everything had been perfect. Absolutely perfect. She and Neil clicked. In bed. Out of bed. Everywhere. They couldn't have been a more congenial couple if they'd been born identical twins.
But six months ago Neil had gotten a promotion and they'd moved here from Pittsburgh, and the trouble had begun. It was a nice town, they'd bought a lovely house, and Neil was doing very well with the company, but at what cost? He worked late every night, often on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, and when she saw him he always had some excuse. They had not made satisfactory love in so long, she'd almost forgotten how exciting it could be when his cock rammed and slammed her to pussy-erupting orgasm.
"It's not my fault," she'd told her mirror only this morning. "I try. I try very hard. I've never refused him, never pretended to have a headache at bedtime. I love him and I desire him. I try to show him that, every day. But he has no time for me. Is his job that important?"
Or was it possible that she simply wasn't trying hard enough? And so she'd gone shopping for the negligee, the sexy perfume. Tonight, she promised herself, when Neil came to bed, he'd find himself trapped in the bedroom with a hot-blooded, aggressive sex bomb. Melinda. And if sex still turned out to be a fizzle…
Like it was turning out right now?
"Please, honest," he sighed, "why don't you let me get some sleep? I have to be at the office a little early in the morning…"
"Why don't you just move to the fucking office?" she snapped angrily. "You think about it more than you think about me, it seems." He started to say something but she didn't give him the chance. Her hand yanked again on his cock and this time she was positive she felt the stirrings of life in her husband.
"There!" she said. "You can do it."
"Melinda, please…"
She wasn't listening. Her head dropped like a shot and she stuffed his limp penis into her mouth. Neil groaned audibly, but Melinda wasn't listening. She felt the peculiar, salty flavor of his cock against her tongue and she began to suck furiously, determined that if her hand couldn't get him hard enough to fuck, her mouth damned sure could.
"Ohhhh, baby," he moaned, and once that had meant that he was grooving on the way she ate him. Once, when their marriage had been perfect. Now it was a moan tinged with reluctance and it grated on Melinda's ears like a symptom of a life gone wrong. Be reluctant, she thought. And see if it stops me!
She pulled him with her mouth, grazing the sensitive tip of his rod with her sharp nibbling teeth. Her tongue sloshed back and forth across the soft pink stalk of Neil's dick, and her jaws sucked in to vacuum furiously all around him. In a moment she began to feel results.
Life was definitely flowing into her husband's prick. He was thicker than when she'd started sucking, and his cock not so limber and flexible. He touched the top of her head with his fingers but she didn't stop. Her jaws tightened on him and she made her tongue work harder, more wickedly around the lengthening barrel. Saliva filled Melinda's mouth, coating Neil as she worked on him, and it was thrilling as well as rewarding to feel the sudden tap-tap-a-tap of pulsation fluttering through Neil's prick.
"I can't keep it up," he warned. "I know I can't."
Yes you can! she thought. You can keep it up long enough to throw me a beautiful hot fuck, the way you used to! Melinda gobbled at the steadily-engorging tool, bathing it with her spit, loving it with her tongue as it swelled and bloomed and grew fat and thick and ponderous in her avid mouth.
Not all the magic had departed from their marriage, she reflected happily, just as Neil's cock attained its lull growth. He was nearly eight inches long, thick in proportion, with a magnificent coronal head that flared like the ace of spades.
When he was fully erect that pocket point glowed like a hot fire, red and inflamed and passionate, its skin texture smooth as velvet beneath her tongue and fingers.
She tested that velvet now with the tip of her tongue, steadying the cock with her hand while she licked its knob. A tiny dab of pre-cum formed in the slatted opening at his very pinnacle, and she sampled it appreciatively. Once upon a time she and Neil hid taken great delight in spilling their sex juices into one another's mouths. She had warm, beautiful memories of long nights spent trading oral sex back and forth, ending in hot sessions of sixty-nine that seemed to last orgasmically into the wee hours of the morning. Once, she recalled, she'd sucked five steamy gushes from his cock in a single evening while his tongue had flogged her cunt into a series of eruptions that brought Melinda moaning and screaming to the heights of full passion.
But that had been in Pittsburgh, before they'd pulled up stakes and moved, before their marriage had gone sour and stale? She supposed so. There was even a slight staleness to the taste of her husband's cock now, the kind of staleness Melinda associated with a used car and its aura of past owners. It made a good symbol of what their lives had become.
Still, he was up, bigger, harder, than he'd been in weeks, and there was a warmth in his flesh that felt marvelous against her tongue, promised delight, and stirred Melinda's own passions.
She lifted the hem of her gown. Beneath it she wore nothing, except the perfume dabbed onto her pink flesh. As she continued to suck Neil's cock Melinda sought for his hand. The fingers were stiff, the hand reluctant, but she dragged him to her crotch, applied his fingers to the hair-tufted lips of her pussy. She was wet there, and she steered him into that wetness.
"Nnnnnhhh," her moan rose as she tried to insert his stiff, unwilling fingers in her petal-like cunt, but despite the slight pain she persisted, and in a moment he had his middle finger jammed to the hilt in her pussy. More wetness flowed almost as soon as his finger penetrated her cuntal sphincter and the deeper he pierced, the wetter she became. In a moment her initial moan became a soft pulsating purr of pleasure, and she felt a tingle between the moist swollen lips of her snatch.
Her clit ached for the want of him. It had been such a long time since they'd gotten off reasonably well together. So many miserable nights of failure. Neil too tired even to try. His cock strangely impotent, struggling within her cuntal gate, shrinking wretchedly even as she writhed against him in search of the delight she was entitled to find in his arms. Oh, it was going to be good tonight, she promised herself, laying the head of his rod with her tongue, feeling a reassuring throb in the velvety flesh, a throb that promised… that virtually assured her…
Melinda squirmed against him, loving the feel of his finger in her twat. His fingers were long, not as thick, perhaps, as they could have been, but her pussy was glued fast around the probing intruder, sucking it up, milking it with eager, happy muscular twitches. And when he reamed about in her, the pressure excited and withdrawn upon her clit sent tingles of excited anticipation through Melinda's entire body.
Yes! she thought, Yes! This is the way it's supposed to be! She fed more of his cock into her mouth, swallowing about half his eight inches, and her hand squeezed passionately on the tight sac of his scrotum. Up and down her head raced, sucking, vacuuming. Stay hard, she radioed to Neil's prick. Stay hard so you can fuck my ass off, you beautiful piece of flesh!
His finger had begun to work with some activity in her pussy, and sticky juice oozed from her parted cunt lips. Melinda felt the hot wet drops collecting in her pubic hair, kept them on the base of Neil's finger when he plumbed her fully, and she squirmed into the angle of finger-thrusts, eagerly accepting him in her hot pussy. Oh, God, hadn't he thought of her once, all this time? Hadn't he realized that she craved him, desired him madly, that his poor performance in bed the past few months was driving her crazy?
Oh, maybe they were over it, finally! He was throbbing, at full hard-on now, and it was fantastic. Her mouth we crammed with him, and soon her pussy would be, too.
Melinda withdrew her head slowly, allowing his cock to ease from her mouth. Frothy beads of split coated him up and down, and he was glowing red at the tip again, the way she wanted to see him. Her fist tightened around the base of the penis, squeezing the shaft, the edge of her hand grinding down upon his nuts, and she tossed her head, shaking halt from her eyes. Melinda's skin tingled and she knew that her face and breasts were suffused with deep sexual blush. Oh, she wanted him to see it, to know how hot she was for him! They could restore the magic if they both tied!
"Look, darling," she panted, stroking his rigid erection. "Look how big and hard you are. Oh, it's so beautiful!"
"I…"
"Don't talk," she murmured, closing his lips with her index finger. She rose onto her knees, his finger falling out of her pussy, and Melinda hastily removed her green nightie. Her tits jiggled as she pulled off the gown, and she didn't have to look down to know that her nipples were stiff and pointing erected with the tremulous desire that, raged inside her body. "Look at me," she whispered. "Look at my body. It's all yours. Take it." She offered him a hand, and he took it. His palm was moist and cool, so cool, clutched in the heat of her own.
Melinda bent low, and she kissed the tip of her husband's cock. Good boy, she thought. You came through at just the right time. She ran a hand up and down the stiff barrel of the prick, and she rubbed the swollen knob against her cheek, lips slightly parted as she breathed across Neil's tool.
"Uuuughhh!!" he cried suddenly, and she felt him twitch against her cheek. Melinda's head snapped back in alarm, but it was too late. She didn't even have time to close her eyes defensively. Neil's cock erupted, spitting gobs of cum into her face, her hair. It splattered her skin and hung there in thick, sticky drops.
"No!!!" she screamed and, as he continued to squirt, she closed a fist around Neil's cock, and whipped him into her mouth. Twitching still, he emptied himself there, and as the last spurt gushed from him across her tongue, all the stiffness vanished. His cock seemed to melt in her mouth and, suck as she might, Melinda found herself nursing a limp, useless tool that tasted vividly of its premature explosion.
Neil patted her head, and she released him. There were tears in her eyes as she looked at the withered dick. He smiled weakly, shrugged in resignation. "I told you I couldn't," he said, but his eyes were averted, unwilling to look directly into hers.
Melinda touched her face, felt the sticky cum-drops that had begun to ooze down her smooth skin. She felt disappointment, and not a little disgust. Again her dreams had turned to shit at virtually the moment of fulfillment. "You told me," she agreed, her voice tight in her throat.
Neil pulled up the sheets she had cast aside, and he settled upon his side, away from her. "Well," he said, "I guess I'll go to sleep now."
Melinda picked up her discarded silk negligee. Ninety dollars wasted, she thought. But at least it had one use. She began to wipe the cum off her face with the sexy gown she'd hoped would remind her husband of his duties and pleasure. Still wiping, she got up from the bed and went down the hall to the bathroom. Even before she had left the mom she could hear Neil breathing softly, evenly, in his sleep.