Thursday morning dawned hot and clear. "Just 26 hours," Scott thought to himself. He made the coffee and pushed down the toast. As he cut up strawberries for their breakfast, his horny wife strolled sleepily into the kitchen. Her hair looked like it wanted to wave at somebody in the next room. Her skin reflected a bit of sweat from last night's carousing. She looked great.
His dick and his heart led him over to where she stood. He hugged her close and pushed his face into her hair. "Just one more day," he told her. She thought he meant, just one more day in the office. "Just one more day," she answered back. "Thanks for making breakfast, honey."
"You're welcome." He brought coffee and fruit to her place at the table. He smiled at her with love and lust. It would be difficult to keep his mind on work today.
* * *
It took a bit of effort, but he managed. He really did have to finish that project, and he did. All the specs came in and all the budget numbers were good. Now it was up to the client, and that person would need time to review the whole thing. Scott was easily off the hook through Tuesday.
Thursday night was tough. After dinner he sneaked off to the bathroom again. He figured it would help if he got off before the torture began. He debated sleeping on the couch, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it. Again he ignored his wanton wife. Again he resisted her soft hands caressing his butt and thighs. And again, he listened as she tried to meet her needs by herself.
Jasmine felt a little sad as she dragged the toy out from under the bed again. Her sexual hunger was increasing, though; she had to. This time she considered the banana-like curve from a new perspective. She looked at the slender half. She waved it through the air like a star-fighter, mentally making zooming noises. To date she had masturbated with it only when she was both horny and in a bit of menstrual pain, when her delicate insides called for something smaller. But she knew what it was for.
Under the bed was their trusty tube of KY. Scott could not believe his ears when he heard the cap flip open. He felt a stab of jealousy. Was she playing with her ass? Without him?? This was too cruel! His cock yelled Kubrick at him: "'In the Name of Her Majesty and the Continental Congress! Get over there, boy!'" With an iron will, Scott ignored its demands. He listened like a thief, straining to catch every nuance.
Jasmine put a fat glob of lube on the smaller prick-head. Then, careful not to rub it off, she fit the curve to the underside of her body. The thin half of the rainbow fit snugly in the crack of her ass. The larger half split her cleft. Its head landed near her clit.
She rode the curve for a little while, getting used to how it fit. Using minute movements, she slid it back and forth, pressing it deeper into her crevices. She could feel the slim glass head in full contact with her anus. It knocked at her back door, wanting in. She twirled her hips in a bellydancer's wiggle. Her wetness increased.
Jazz grabbed the handle in front of her pubic bone and pushed it slowly toward her toes. The pressure against her asshole increased. Her breathing grew heavier and her nipples stood out. She guided the blunt arrow and pressed the first half-inch into her tight little bud. It was very, very hard. She paused, feeling it. Her heartbeat pulsed between her legs. Her bosom began to sweat.
Careful not to dislodge the prong, Jasmine slid her fingers around in her pussy. She was thoroughly soaked and ready. She smeared her juices around the pole where its tip lanced her flesh. Then she twirled her finger fast and hard around her clit. As the hot tingling friction rose, she gave a sudden push.
The head drove in. She gasped: everything happened at the same time: a little pain, a wild burst of orgasmic pleasure. Her clit jumped like a caught swordfish. Her body convulsed. She nearly bent double from the sharp sensations. Thoughts of keeping quiet were no longer in existence.
Scott heard his wife's ecstatic spasm. He could stand it no longer. He took advantage of her obvious distraction and hastily began jerking off.
So it was that husband and wife lay beside one another in bed, each longing for the other. Each felt that the desired coupling was not an option, and so turned to solo efforts. Side by side, not touching, their bodies quivered and strained.
Jasmine's antics had made Scott crazy. His hand beat an allegro tempo up and down his baton. Quickly he found the edge. In the dark, his cum shot toward the nightstand. He fired again, and again. A sound slid from his lips.
A few seconds later, as his heart rate slowed, he wondered if he had splattered one of the cats. The thought made him chuckle.
Tomorrow, he told himself. Soon. He sure as hell hoped his plan would work.
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