It tickled as the glob of conditioner slipped from my long wet hair, ran down the indentation of my spine and landed with a resounding splat on the shower floor. I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined it was a lover’s tongue softly gliding slowly down my back. I shivered as I reached for the bottle of expensive hair product to try again while contemplating the last time anyone touched me anywhere with a finger, a tongue, a throbbing penis.
Twenty-two years of marriage and the last five years have been a slow decay of intimacy, cascading into mutual domestic servitude. As I scratched the conditioner into my scalp, I contemplated asking my husband if he wanted to have sex. This generally led to a bi-monthly session that lacked enthusiasm, was void of passion and left me feeling worse than before we tried. It certainly wasn’t worth it and last time I sent him a text that said, “Are you happy? What about sex? Are we spending enough time together?”
His avoidant reply was, “Let’s try to have family dinners at 8.”
Speaking of dinner at eight, I was lingering in the shower way too long and dinner was probably over-browning in the oven. No time for shower fantasies or attempts at solving complex marital issues. I ran my fingers through my hair to rinse out the last of the conditioner, squeezed out the excess water and gently stepped out of the shower. As I reached for the towel, Jack entered the master bathroom in his workout clothes fresh from the gym, his blonde hair slicked back with sweat, looking tired and slightly annoyed at something, or possibly nothing.
“Can you make sure the kids take out the garbage?”
“Ahhhhh… yes of course. Sure.”
“And please make sure they put a new bag in the trash can.”
With that request, he turned abruptly and left. I felt stupid standing there naked and quickly grabbed a towel and started to dry off my legs. I guess after two and half decades these legs have lost their effect on him. Hitting the precipitous of puberty with skinny long legs and big boobs, I attracted lovers like moths to a flame and the flame was not easily extinguished. As I wrapped the towel around my body and tucked it under my armpit to stay in place, it dawned on me that the stereotypical complaints of wives not wanting sex and nagging men about household chores had embodied my husband and possibly I was the horny, forgotten husband in the marriage. With that depressing revelation, I threw on a t-shirt and yoga pants, bypassing the hassle of a bra since it was nearly bedtime, and headed to serve the 8 p.m. family dinner that was suggested as a solution to my bad sex life.
*****
“Fuck,” I shouted as I jumped out of bed to the sound of the garbage truck rumbling in the distance down our subdivision cul de sac. “Why am I in bed?” I mumbled to myself as I stood in a daze in panties and a t-shirt, my typical home alone attire, and desperately looked around the room for bottoms to slip on. It was an ordinary Thursday. I had got the kids up and off to school. My husband was off to work and I had started my work from my computer when I went to make the bed and decided I would crawl in for a just a minute and rest my eyes. I must have drifted off. Exactly the sort of thing someone disciplined enough to manage a business from home is not supposed to do. And the damn garbage! I had completely forgotten to send it out with the kids when they went to catch the bus as I had promised.
“Where are my jeans! Shit. Shit. Shit!” I muttered as I really didn’t want to hear it from Jack that I screwed this simple household task up. Deciding the t-shirt was long enough to be a swimsuit cover, I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the two bags of garbage, exiting the front door just as the garbage man was using the electric lift to pick up the neighbor's garbage can. I could see his tanned, muscular right forearm working the lift as I glanced to the left. “Crap! The special garbage can!” I ran barefoot in my long t-shirt and panties to the side of the house and started trying to wheel the monster size trash can with one hand while balancing two non-tied bags of garbage in the other.
The whole situation was awkward and I was still half asleep so it was no surprise that I stumbled, then face planted onto the open bags of garbage which spewed open as the trash can I was wheeling behind me slid to its side. As I am on the ground mentally digesting the reality of what just happened, I look up to see a concerned face and that same tanned, muscular arm reaching down to help pull me up. “Are you okay, mam?” he said as I glared into his beautiful blue eyes and for a moment forgot what had just transpired until I realized something was stuck to my face. I reached to my cheek and was mortified to feel spaghetti noodles from our 8 p.m. dinner.
“I’m fine. I’m so sorry that I forgot to put the garbage out,” I told him as if he really cared.
He pulled me up and began trying to rebag the spewed garbage for me while staring directly at me still with that concerned look but also the look of someone who is seeing something unexpected and can’t look away.
“Are you sure,” he said. “You fell pretty hard, so maybe I should help you into the house and make sure you sit down.”
“Sure,” was all I could manage to mutter as my face turned red with embarrassment and I pulled down my garbage-soaked t-shirt that was slightly hiked up from the unfortunate fall.
He put his arm around me and guided me to the front door and stopped. I opened the door and we both walked into the living room. I looked up at his slightly unshaven face again and suddenly noticed he was covered in spaghetti sauce on his arms and shirt just like I was.
“Thank you so much,” I said. “You should clean up. I’m so sorry to have made such a mess and now you’re all dirty.”
He smiled for the first time, a beautiful sweet grin, and said, “I am a garbage man. I’m always dirty.”
Something about the way he said the word “dirty” made it evident he was flirting and my stomach tightened and I felt a flutter under the thin fabric of my silk panties.
“Maybe we need to take a shower,” I said in a slow, flirty voice and then was shocked I had said it and wondered if he would even know what I meant.
“I think we do,” he said as he stepped closer. “Seems we’re both very, very dirty.”
Now the flutter in my crotch was a burning fire. I put one hand on the side of his face and kissed him softly on the lips as I took his hand and guided it to wrap around me and placed it on my ass. As his fingers began to creep under the back of my panties, I whispered, “Let me show you where the shower is.” I took his hand and walked him through my bedroom to the master bathroom.
I pulled out the vanity stool and sat him down in front of me, bending to my knees to help him take off his boots. I pinched his boot string between my thumb and forefinger and gave it a quick tug; our excitement increased and we both watched delightedly as the intricately secured bow slowly unraveled.
He crossed his arms and raised his mildly soiled t-shirt over his chest and shoulders; the musky scent of his bronze skin made my heart race. As he casually tossed it, my arm flung to the side, my hand grabbed it before it could hit the floor and I raised it to my nose with a seductive smile. I lifted the shirt to wipe the sauce from his arms and ran my other hand along his chest. Dropping the shirt, I felt his ribs with both of my hands and smoothly slipped my palms along his taut stomach
I pressed a palm against the bulge in his pants, grasped his zipper and began to slip it down. The fabric of his blue jeans separated and I could see the tip of his cock extending over the top of his underwear. I wanted to taste his skin so badly; I tugged his zipper the rest of the way, spread his pants with my fingers, pressed my cheek against his excited mound and exhaled a satisfied sigh.
He slipped his hand under my chin and lifted my head so our gazing eyes could share a look of pure desire—a feeling of warmth throughout our bodies which were already burning with anticipation. As he stood up, I hooked my fingers over the top of his jeans and underwear and slowly lowered them to his ankles. He stepped out and reached down to pull off each sock quickly and effortlessly while balancing with ease which made me laugh.
His hands came down to gently pull me up and he turned me around, stood behind me with his warm body pressed to mine and we both stared for a moment at our reflection in the mirror. I put my arms up and in one quick movement he pulled off my t-shirt and let out a sigh as he admired my reflection in the mirror. His sigh reverberated through my body and goose bumps appeared as I felt the pains of my self-doubt in my desirability shedding away. An overwhelming feeling of lust and desire poured through me and I wondered if this was a dream, or reality happening in the same bathroom I stood naked in yesterday and was ignored. He was just an inch taller than me and could easily kiss me without bending over. With one arm wrapped around my waist, he brushed my hair to the side with the other hand and began slowly kissing me on my neck. I felt his tongue twisting behind my ear and down my shoulder. His hands slowly moved up and down the sides of my body until they softly settled on my breasts.
My knees almost buckled from the sensation of his fingers rolling my hard nipples. He took one hand and slid it past the waistband of my panties and as his fingers spread the moist lips of my pussy, I screamed out in pleasure. He continued to push my panties down to my knees and paused to rub the inside of my thighs. Impatiently, he finished the task by pressing my panties to my ankles, cupping his hands beneath my feet as I stepped out of them.
Standing naked in front of him, I began to turn toward the shower when his hands stopped me and began to rub my calves. He moved them up my thighs until his thumbs pressed in and spread my pussy. I could feel his warm breath getting closer to my skin as his soft lips opened to taste me. He pressed his tongue between the lips and licked me up and down, pressing in deeper with each tender lick.
Before I lost my mind completely, I said, “Let’s move to the shower,” and I hesitantly broke away to go turn on the shower. It was a walk-in shower so within moments we were inside under the stream of warm water, using our hands to explore each other’s bodies. I grabbed handfuls of shower gel and lathered his body and then mine, creating the perfect soft, slippery canvas. I couldn’t stop myself from giving him a long passionate kiss and we both were lost in the moment with bodies pressed together and hands sliding along each other in unison.
His hands instinctively broke from our synchronized fondling and found their way to more forbidden discoveries. While it was nothing new, it felt like a distant memory. He read my mind; his hands, strong yet delicate, grabbed my pussy with a welcomed authority, lifting my heels from the shower floor. I raised my arms and reached back to pull him closer; his wet lips moved along the contours of my shoulders. His fingers pushed in, spreading my moist folds and molding my supple skin to the shape of his deepest desires.
His rhythmic motion was entrancing and the feeling of pleasure continued to grow stronger with each stroke of his fingers. My thoughts wandered to the feeling of the warm water streaming down my back and then my body and my mind went numb as each loving caress took me deeper into my release. I nearly collapsed from the jolt of it and I let him continue to stroke me as my orgasm subsided and I regained control.
Still entranced by the magic of his fingers, I let my tongue slowly glide me down to my knees and reached for his anxious penis and placed it between my soapy breasts. He thrust up and down as the head of his penis inched closer to my open lips. My hands were on his chest twirling chest hair between my perfectly manicured fingernails as the warm water rushed down his body and onto my thirsty tongue. I couldn’t wait any longer. I placed him inside my warm, eager mouth.
His deep breath confirmed the irresistible pleasure my mouth can offer a man. His body was warm and relaxed. He enjoyed the feeling of my lips on him and welcomed the tingle of my curious touch. I reached and curved my hands around the back of his thighs, pulling his body closer and pressing him deeper into my mouth. I could feel him getting harder and the head of his cock began to expand. I dragged the tip of my tongue back and forth along the tip as he continued thrusting in and out. My heart raced with excitement at the early taste of his cum.
My wet lips slipped deeper and his penis began to enlarge. The ripples of his abdomen pressed outwards; his knees shook and his leg muscles stiffened. My tongue caressed the soft underside of his penis while the flow of cum began to fill my mouth. I spread his ass with my palms, curled my fingers inward and allowed my left middle finger to penetrate his tight, quivering anus. When his load got to be more than I could swallow, I allowed the rest to flow down my chin. His eyes focused toward my body to watch his juices stream slowly down my neck and between my breasts. He tilted his head back with a groan and pulled my mouth deeper for one final thrust. More cum filled my mouth and his legs finally relaxed when his cock twitched its final spurts.
*****
“What is going on with the garbage service,” Jack said in an annoyed voice. “The neighborhood Facebook page says he didn’t pick up half the subdivision today.”
“Oh, pretty sure he picked something up at our house,” I replied with a smile.
