A Most Unusual Awakening

It was a most unusual day. And it started in a most unusual way.

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I was hard. Painfully hard. Nothing much unusual about that. Went through much of life like that, and every morning for sure.

This time I was hard because of the hand stroking rapidly up and down on my rigid member. Nothing much unusual about that either. I, uh, well – never mind.

What was unusual was that the hand wasn't mine. I groggily contemplated that fact when I felt the humid breeze caress my left ear.

"Good morning honey" came the lilting tones. "How're you feeling?"

"Mmmmm…good." I mumbled in reply.

"Yeah?" She purred, with her mouth practically inside my eardrum, as she lightly stroked my straining pole with the tips of her fingers. "You're feeling pretty good to me too. You just lie there, honey. Don't wake up too fast. We've got 15 minutes before we have to get up and I'm going to use all of it."

It sounded like good advice to me, so I closed my eyes, lay back, and concentrated on the masterful symphony my wife was conducting with my baton. She stroked a little more firmly now, but still a light touch across my skin. Being awoken in mid-arousal made me hungry to catch up and I was tormented by her teasing caresses and wanted her to bear down on my pleasure.

This was definitely an unusual occurrence. Unusual as in never. I scanned the dusty recesses of my mind for those heady days when we had first met. With all the freedom of our college years to explore, we had had some fun. I was thumbing through that musty catalog now. Trying to find a memory of another time when Jennifer had ever woken me up with sex. There was something on that trip to Montreal, but, heck, that was nineteen years ago.

Now that I was experiencing it, I was a little bit sad that I had missed out on all those years of potential bliss, because, dang – it felt good. Jennifer gave a mean hand job and she was on the top of her game today.

My cock was still twitching from her feathery strokes. Buffeted from one wispy touch to the next like a palm tree in the summer breeze. And then she added my balls into the mix. She stroked my balls gently, rubbing the sensitive hairs there and on my "'taint" and even around my anal region to electric effect.

The pleasure was so intense I clenched all the muscles in my groin as if connected directly to an electrical charge.

That was when she let go of my cock altogether and I felt her tongue sweep slickly around my inner ear.

"Hold that thought for just a minute" she hissed, "while I apply some lubrication."

She apparently had smuggled the tube of gel from our bedside under the covers with her and was now hastily spreading some on her hands. Miracle of miracles! It was warm! It felt like a substantial gob, too.

With the added lubrication, Jennifer really went to town now. She "kicked it up a notch" on my crotch, jerking firmly on my bulging member as if she could literally pull my insides out through the small hole at the end of that swollen sausage. Which of course, she could.

Her hands squished obscenely up and down my shaft with increasing enthusiasm. Soon we were both beginning to pant slightly.

As her hands spread the fabulous slime over my tingling balls and teasingly onto the edge of my perineum, I thrust my hips forward to give her access to my yearning anus, hoping she would take the hint. She knew I liked assplay at moments like these, but then again, she rarely acted on that knowledge.

I was about to explode, either way, when I felt the slippery contrail of her finger swooping across my skin on its way to circling my clenched aperture three times in rapid succession. Then, like an Olympic archer striking a wrinkled bull's-eye, she darted her finger decisively into my rectum.

I exhaled a choked sigh of pleasure and relief and could feel my explosion beginning. My hips arced off the bed like an electrical current as I strained under my impending crisis.

Sensing my pre-dick-a-ment, Jennifer found still another gear and began pistoning her fist wetly up and down my rod. Her index finger plunged in and out of my asshole rapidly and I couldn't hold it any longer.

With a strangled moan, my defenses fell and the eruption began. My scalding seed gushed out in strong, muscular bursts, streaming across my abdomen and up my chest with an audible splash. I danced the Saint Vitus dance of ecstasy as Jennifer continued her firm stroking of my cock at only a slightly slower pace while my paroxysm dwindled and I became painfully sensitive.

She drew out one more quivering twitch with a last deliberate tug on my beaten cock and then dropped the deflating toy, which fell with a faint slap, and withdrew her finger from my anus.

I sank slowly back to the bed, like a punctured balloon and felt her warm body cradled against my back as I fell. Her breath was like a tropical breeze in my ear as I returned to my senses. I looked at the clock. It was 6:58. Two minutes early.

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"So was that fun?" she asked coyly. Of course, she knew the answer, but she was fishing for something.

"Sweetheart, THAT was incredible. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. I love you. I really love you. I love you love you love you love you.

It was a bit of a joke between us for the past few days, the "love you" bit. We had had "the talk" a few days earlier. One of the only "serious" talks we had ever had. I had been the one who brought it up, but she had quickly agreed. Our sex life was flat lining. And while sex certainly isn't everything, we were both anxious that it signaled an increasing distance between us, so we were each concerned.

It had been pretty inspired once. Not porn-quality or anything, but good enough to get me off three times a week or more. It had only started to decline after, well, after the wedding, and now, fifteen years after that milestone, it had declined to a routine that was as usual and predictable as the stone path in our yard and about as exciting.

"I was inspired by our little talk" she said, as she gathered her things for the shower, "and thought this might be a fun way to start the day."

I was impressed by her initiative and hastily blurted out, "We've got two minutes. I'd love to return the favor."

"Aw, that's sweet. But I got lots of pleasure out of pleasing you. Maybe later. I have been doing a lot of THINKING…"

Considering how hard we worked to avoid the subject over all these years, it is amazing how easy it can be to talk about such an intimate subject. Only a week earlier we had been sitting around on Sunday afternoon when I pointed out a survey in a magazine I was reading which showed that less than a third of all surveyed considered their sex lives "exciting." I was surprised when Jennifer admitted that she fell into this category.

Despite the extensive defenses we had built up over time, once we both realized that our dissatisfaction was mutual; we poured out a decade's worth of frustrations. Initially, Jennifer said, she had felt weird about her body after the kids. But then as the kids grew older, it seemed like everything in life had to be negotiated between us, and neither of us ever had the energy to negotiate that ticklish subject, so we just kept on with our routine, even though neither of us was happy with it.

"Shit, do I feel stupid." I said. "I guess we wasted all those years of boring sex!"

"It certainly wasn't boring!" she protested. "Just a little, um, overly consistent."

"Right Sweetheart. Like you say -- but be that as it may, we're never getting those years back. I'm never going to be 30 again."

"Is that what you're upset about? Do you feel like you missed out on something?" she queried. "I guess we'll just have to make up for missed time. You tell me all your fantasies - what you think you've been missing - and I'll try to make it come true. And of course, you'll do the same for me, right?"

"Wow. I couldn't have come up with a wiser solution if I were Oprah herself!" I joked. "Alright then, we've got a lot of time to make up for. You go first."

Jennifer laughed loudly. "So I guess you like the idea then?" She chuckled. "Even though I'm not terribly surprised by it, I do appreciate your enthusiasm. But it's taken a lot for me just to say as much as I have already. I don't think I'm ready to go to the next step just yet. Maybe next week."

I'm sure that my disappointment must have shown on my face, because Jennifer laughed again.

"But that doesn't mean that I'm not committed to rewarding your enthusiasm some other way," she said suggestively, as she reached out and boldly stroked my crotch through my pants.

I rose quickly to her touch and we had our hottest sex in years. Passionate, sheet-ripping, soulful, hungry sex. Afterwards, we lay entangled in a human knot and Jennifer had whispered, drolly, "It wouldn't hurt if you said 'I love you' every now and then." So now I made a point to append that phrase to nearly every conversation.

That had been a week ago. Since then, we hadn't had any further discussions. No fantasies revealed, no passions kindled. But as I looked down at my chest, smeared with sticky blobs of my now-cooling seed, I decided that this was a pretty good start on improvement and wondered how Jenn had read my mind. She sashayed off to the shower with a coy grin as I lay limply on the bed, smeared with the grease of my own breakfast sausage.

With that the morning whirlwind began.

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Author's Note:

This story is part of the series "A Most Unusual Day." If you liked it, please check out the others that follow. However you felt, I appreciate you letting me know by voting and/or commenting. Last, but not least, special thanks to my editors J.Q. Hack and Lisa.