–Damon–
My wife is exquisite. Merciful, too—always willing to ease the pressure that builds inside me. She undressed for me and touched me where I am most vulnerable, probably because she felt sorry for me. I don't want her to go further, but she seemed aroused as well. Damn it. I hate when I can't make her tremble properly. And yet I know an orgasm could bring on that terrible, throbbing headache.
"You know you can use the toy I ordered especially for you," she says, fussing with the hem of her dress.
I sigh and nod.
"Come on—touch me, husband. But you know the doctor forbade this." Her voice is soft, teasing; there's that mischievous curve at the end that always makes my chest ache.
"I know." I press my mouth to hers.
"I already charged it." She smirks. Damn her. She tempts me like it's a sport.
I clean the toy carefully, take the lube, and glance down at my manhood. Still hard. A handjob isn't enough. I know what it wants, but I won't hurt her for my own relief.
