Image via Tumblr
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Finding Satisfaction
We were supposed to fuck that night. It had been several days, lots of long nights, and we’d collapsed into bed exhausted. Now it was the weekend, our time to definitely get kinky. Sweaty sex, wet orgasms – we were supposed to do it all.
And then a migraine hit me like a fucking freight train.
Before the sun had gone all the way down, I was in bed. I was moaning but not the way I’d anticipated. He checked on me. Got my medicine. Gave me water. Tucked me in. I felt bad. I’d wanted to fuck, too. Now we were both being denied. Eventually, I fell asleep – passed out is more like it.
I don’t know what time I woke up, but everything was dark. Except, the glow of his phone. I was already recovering because that little bit of light didn’t hurt my eyes anymore. I still felt like a two-ton weight was in my head, hammering behind my eyes. But I could handle light and I was aware of my surroundings. I was aware of the porn on his phone. Aware of the motion of his hand. The soft scrape of skin against skin was strange in the deep stillness of our bedroom.
He didn’t jerk himself hard. The bed didn’t shake. While he scrolled with one hand, his thumb moving from image to image, he stroked himself as if he had all the time in the world. Unable to help myself, I uncurled from my protective ball and stretched out beside him.
What images had him so turned on? How long could he go at that pace? When would he come?
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You had me at the GIF :).
Couldn’t turn my eyes away.
Right? It took me a minute to find it, but it had me at hellooooo. 😉