“Did you miss me?” he asked with a chuckle, having just discovered his gorgeous wife lying on the sofa with her pants and panties down and her fingers rubbing her squishy wet pussy at a frenetic pace.
“Oh my God! You’re home! Oh, Baby, I need you so bad!” she cried as the whole day of temptations she finally couldn’t resist flowed through her mind.
It started, oddly enough, with the laundry. She’d gathered both of their dirty clothes as part of her plan to clean the whole house to make it as welcoming to him as possible when he returned from his business trip to Europe. He’d already been gone for over a week and would return in just two days.
As she picked up his underwear, she caught a whiff of … him! They must have been the ones he was wearing at the beginning of their nearly four-hour sex marathon the night before he left. She brought them up to her nose and breathed deeply, the intoxicating scent reminding her of pulling them down to release his beautiful cock, which after a few strokes with her hand, was plunged deep into her throat. With one hand cinched around the base and the other cradling his sac, she licked and sucked him, knowing she’d soon have to go almost two weeks without.
Her eyes closed as the power of scent to revive memories took over. She could smell his body throughout them, but in the gusset, the smell of his seed had her arousal rising quickly. It must have dribbled out of her mouth as she tried to swallow the larger-than-normal load.
She felt a twinge between her legs, and a hand drifted involuntarily to touch herself, but she’d barely done so when she was reminded of the promise they’d made to each other. With the European phone networks incompatible, they couldn’t do the sexy video calls they employed when he traveled domestically, so they promised not to practice any self-love until he returned. It would be all the sweeter when they finally saw each other again. She tossed the underwear into the machine and started the cycle, feeling like she’d dodged a bullet.
While the machine ran, she dusted and vacuumed, eventually finding her way upstairs. Passing the guest room, she opened the door, and the memories started all over again. They’d used that room on his last night home to avoid changing sheets and remaking the bed before sleep. She knew if she entered, more memories would be triggered, but as she suspected they’d want to use the room again for the same reason, she knew she had to clean it.
Throwing the duvet on the floor, a loud thunk of something hard hitting the floor followed. She knew what it was but ignored it. Practically tearing the sheets off the bed, she escaped the room … for now.
Back in the laundry room, she moved the washed clothes to the dryer and started to stuff the sheets into the washer. ‘Oh God! They’re still wet!’ she thought as she tried to push them in, her hand enveloped in the soaking wet mattress pad. She backed away as she shoved the pile of sheets in like it was hazardous waste and started both machines.
Sweating, she brushed her hair from her forehead when another smell assailed her nostrils. It might have been her. It might have been him. It was probably both of them as more sexy secretions had leaked onto the bed that night from the wide variety of pleasures they bestowed on each other.
Again the images of that night looped through her mind as the memory of her sitting on his face while his magical tongue and fingers licked and probed everything between her legs until, with a finger in each hole and his tongue on her clit, she erupted, dousing his face and the bed with several powerful streams of her clear nectar.
Her hand again found itself between her legs, but she fought the temptation to put her hand in her pants, breathing a sigh of relief at the close call.
She couldn’t face the bedroom again and went instead to the kitchen to get a cold drink. ‘Two more days!’ she reminded herself as she sipped her favorite Arnold Palmer iced tea.
After the short rest, she resumed the housecleaning, avoiding the guest room but knowing she’d have to return to it if only to put the clean sheets back on once they were washed.
By early afternoon, she had the clothes to fold and the bedsheets to replace. She folded the laundry on the kitchen table, and even lacking the scents of sex, the articles themselves brought back memories. The flimsy cheeky panties he’d loved so much. His bikini briefs with a well-formed pouch he amply filled. Her bra that he pulled up over her head without opening to get to the tits he called ‘perfect’ before each found its way into his mouth.
“Must. Not. Touch. Myself!” she repeated like a mantra as she managed to get the clothes folded and put away. Now for the sheets.
She entered the room warily as though something would leap out at her and force her fingers into her now-damp pussy. Throwing the sheets on the bed, she started moving the furniture they’d used back in place.
Picking up the duvet, she uncovered what had clunked on the floor earlier: the hairbrush. She stared at it like it might attack her on its own, unlike when she’d invited him to use it on her bare, naked bottom, draped over his knee as he sat on her vanity bench. The bench, too, was out of place, and she steeled herself for the unbidden memories as she took it and the brush back to her dressing table.
“Oh God!” she moaned aloud as she recalled reminding her ‘daddy’ that she’d been a very naughty girl and his threat of a good spanking. She loved getting spanked, but he didn’t do it often enough for her. When he did, it was incredible. She smiled as she remembered how he told her to get the brush, correctly reading her body language about wanting the additional intensity. Her hands went instinctively to her ass as the memory of real pain, imparted with the hairbrush on her already crimson-red cheeks, flooded in as she put the brush back on her vanity and pushed the bench underneath.
She ran out of the room as though a demon was on her heels, retreating to the comfort of the brightly lit kitchen. Pouring another glass of iced tea, she pulled out a chair, sat down, and immediately jumped up as though shocked.
The squeaky chair reminded her of when they’d just gotten home from a nice dinner out that evening. He’d taken her in his arms and kissed her lovingly on her lips and neck, whispering in her ear that he wanted his dessert. He picked her up, sat her on the table, and buried his face in her pantyless crotch. Putting her feet on his shoulders, he sat in the chair and feasted on her pussy while the chair creaked in protest.
“I have to get out of here!” she exclaimed, believing the house itself was out to make her give in to the compelling temptations. She changed into a pair of tight, stretchy denim jeans, a white blouse that accented her cleavage, and a dark, long-sleeve shirt before grabbing her purse and the car keys, literally running to the garage. Tires screeching, she tore down her street, thinking herself safe from whatever spirit was trying to make her break her promise of celibacy.
She had planned to visit the mall the following day to buy some sexy underwear to surprise him on his return but decided to do it today instead. She walked through the parking lot, up to the glass entry doors, and reached for the handle. Startled at the mirror image of her breasts in the glass, she fought the memory and charged inside.
Walking through Nordstrom’s, she had to pass the men’s department to get to the women’s lingerie. She looked up to see a mannequin of a man in tight, black briefs, the bulge of his manhood seemingly increasing as she looked. She shook her head and looked forward with imaginary blinders to avoid other enticing images.
It took a while to settle her mind as she pawed through the racks, looking for just the right pair of panties. She avoided the cheeky panties despite his love for them and finally settled on a couple of hipsters in red and lavender. He liked panties that covered, or at least tried to, thinking the fun was in the unveiling, not outright revealing.
She went to the dressing rooms and checked in with four items. Entering the small booth, she hung the panties on the hook and turned to see herself in the mirror as a pair of phantom hands came from behind to cup her breasts, lifting them and pressing them together.
“AH!” she shrieked and ran from the store with the memory of him having done that at the entrance to the restaurant that night. She’d stepped up to the door, knowing he would open it for her, but seeing her reflection inspired the quick feel he’d availed himself of. She moaned in appreciation at the time.
Thinking nowhere was safe, she returned to her car and headed home.
“Oh fuck!” she exclaimed as she passed that same restaurant, having to stop at a traffic light on its corner. She looked at it, expecting something to trigger another memory, and wasn’t disappointed. It was dusk on a late fall night, and it was getting dark, so, of course, the waiter who served them was getting out of his car and reporting to work.
“He can’t keep his eyes off your tits!” her husband had said of him needlessly, as it was plainly obvious.
“I know,” she’d replied. “Watch this!” she said as she stood up to retrieve her napkin, intentionally allowed to fall to the floor. Her short skirt had ridden up to reveal the sheer white panties she’d worn to tease her husband. Behind her, dishes clattered as the tray fell roughly on the tray stand, a sheepish smile on the waiter’s face.
“I think someone needs a spanking tonight?” her husband said when she sat with a satisfied smile.
“Ooo! Yes, please!” she’d replied.
A honk from behind told her of the light turning green, and she stomped on the gas, feeling like she just couldn’t take it anymore. Steering with one hand, the other rubbed the crotch of her tight jeans until a wet spot managed to seep through.
One more traffic light that she just managed to come to a screeching stop for, and she’d be home again. It was a long light with several turning lanes, so she sat back and tried to relax. Almost home, and she’d decided she’d go right to bed, hopefully without a dream making her cum in her sleep.
She saw a scrap of something white peeking out from under the passenger’s seat, and she reached to pick it up, knowing he hated litter in his car. Her fingertips touched it, and she screamed when she picked up the panties her husband had made her take off so he could finger her on the drive back from dinner. She dropped them back on the floor just as the light turned green, and again, she took off like a jackrabbit.
“That’s it! I can’t take it anymore!” she said aloud, repeating, “I can’t take it!” for the last few minutes of her drive.
She stumbled into the house, her free hand clutching at her tits and pulling them both free from the neckline of her tight blouse as she mauled them. Dropping her keys and purse on the kitchen table, she went to the living room and lay back on the loveseat, her head in the crook between the armrest and the back.
Both hands worked to open her pants; the belt buckle, metal button, and zipper were dispensed with, and one hand dove into her panties, clawing at her soaking wet cunt. Her hips rocking in rhythm with her finger play, she felt herself slipping off the smooth leather cushion and reached back to grab the arm to hold her in place.
Wanting better access to her wanton pussy, she pushed her jeans and panties down just enough before her right hand went back to abrade the slippery soft lips roughly. She could feel the telltale quivers in her hand that signaled an approaching climax.
“Did you miss me?” she heard as though a distant voice was speaking. She opened her eyes and saw him.
“Oh my God! You’re home! Oh, Baby, I need you so bad!”
“Yes, I can see that!” he said, amused and aroused at the sight of her plight. “I think someone needs to be spanked for breaking her promise!”
“Yes! Yes, I do! But fuck me first! Pleeeaaassse!” she said as she stumbled to kneel before him, immediately tearing at the closure of his suit pants. Finally open after several closures, she pulled them down along with his boxers, smiling at his beautiful and fully erect cock. She gave it a quick lick and a kiss before standing and bending over the sofa.
“Please, Baby! Fuck me! Fuck my dripping wet cunt hard!”
“Well. Since you asked so nicely,” he replied sarcastically as he stepped up behind her, took aim, and plunged into her seeping slot.
Fulfilling her wish, he pounded her pussy, holding her hips and pulling her into him as he lunged forward. Bending over her, he reached for her tits and squeezed them painfully until she’d cum at least twice, and he’d unloaded.
She stood and turned to hug him, holding tightly with an element of doubt that he was real and not just another phantom driving her crazy.
“Welcome home, Baby! I’m so glad you’re here! You have no idea what I’ve been through today!”
“It’s good to be home!” he said as he pulled her face up for a kiss. “Perhaps next time you could be a little more welcoming when I arrive!” he said, laughing, and she punched him in the arm before dragging him to their bedroom.
—===<<<O>>>===–
I know I was never treated to a scene like that when I traveled, regardless of how long I’d been gone! I hope you enjoyed reliving her arousing memories and will ‘Like,’ ‘Favorite,’ and comment if you did, and … THANKS FOR READING!!
