Coming Clean

After nearly 20 years of marriage, my wife and I finally got a grip on our sex drives. She is happy with an intense sex session every other week. She likes a short, hot fuck at night where she can drift off asleep in the afterglow. I could go every other day, and I prefer mornings, waking renewed, refreshed and hungry for my wife's body. My wife has come to understand my stronger drive and obligingly gives me a hand to help me through to our next lovemaking night. The alarm went off. My wife rose out of bed and shuffled hurriedly to the bathroom, her bladder full. Already tented, I begrudgingly kicked off the sheets, got up and staggered to the bathroom, my straining morning erection bobbing in front of me, leading the way. As I reached the doorway, my wife stood from the toilet and in one fluid motion whipped her nightshirt over her head and draped it on the towel rack. My heart and cock jumped. Her wavy hair draped alluringly around her face. Her breasts were smooth and pillowy, an effect of being warm in bed. They hung deliciously off her chest when she raised her arms above her head to take off her shirt, and again when she stretched, a motion that pulled her smooth belly taut, accentuated her hips and elongated her legs. Her thick raven pubic hair was matted against body from the good night's sleep. I slid past her in an embarrassingly feeble attempt to 'accidentally' brush the swollen head of my cock against the velvety right cheek of her ass. With my left hand planted firmly on the wall for support, I pointed my turgid erection toward the bowl in an attempt to empty my own bladder. Usually after a morning pee, my hard-on will wither; this morning it raged harder. A busy week at work and an even busier weekend of kids' sports, family obligations and community events, followed by a busy start to the new week, left me too drained for sex or masturbation. By Wednesday my prostate was bloated, my cock congested. I stepped back from the toilet and saw my wife leaning into the tub to start the water for the shower. As she stretched her right leg gracefully out, parallel with the floor, her ass flexed. The angle afforded me a lingering view of her full mound and the cleft of her lips. We got in the shower. I soaped myself up while she shampooed her hair. I casually gave extra attention to my cock as I watched my wife's breasts, nipples erect, dance on her chest as she lathered her hair. The water cascaded over her shoulders and sped down her body, pulling the tall blades of her pubic hair into the alveus between her thighs. The shower spray enlivened her and she regaled me with the latest gossip and drama from work and began laying out the plans for the coming weekend. I struggled with appropriate responses as the voice in my head screamed pleading, 'I need to cum - please touch me.' I applied more soap to the scrub and began washing her. By this point the trickle of pre-cum leaking from my cock was continuous. I started on her right arm, worked my way across her neck and breastbone, purposely avoiding her breasts, and out along her left arm. I drew her out of the spray, turned her gently and began scrubbing her back, starting at her shoulders, circling down her spine to the small of her back, then down over the soft onion curves of her ass. Adding extra lather to my left hand, I snaked my middle finger between her cheeks and soaped her puckered exit. Emerging, I tapped the back of her left thigh, asking her to put her foot on the side of the tub. I washed her thigh, calf and foot, my sudsy imploring cock nestled in the bend of her hip. As I scrubbed, her leg rocked back and forth, sending a fluctuating electric current through my cock that weakened my legs, liquefied my spine and clouded my mind before gathering in my prostate. In the delirious haze, I quietly hoped she would actively take over and not abandon me, leaving me to spray against the shower curtain as I peered around, watching her dry off, thinking of what could have been. With an anticipating deliberacy, I withdrew my hard-on from the bend of her leg, my breath stuttering as the head passed through the fold. We rotated and repeated with her right leg. She put her foot down and I reached around under her arms, determinedly running my hands over her breasts, trapping her hard rubbery nipples between my index and middle fingers, encasing them against her ribs. I ran my hands down her sides and over her stomach. Now lathering my right hand, I palmed over her thatched mound, between her thighs, soaping her outer lips in one back-and-forth motion before slithering my index and middle fingers into the channels between her inner and outer lips on either side, her delicate petals clipped between my fingers, her clit pressed against the webbing between. I slid out and returned to her breasts. As I did, she rotated her hips back and up, putting my straining, dripping cock on the shelf of her tailbone. Rocking her hips subtly side to side, the sensitive underside of my cock sliding in a frothy mix of moisturizer soap and pre-cum on her silky skin, she asked in a mix of compassion and mischief, 'Do you need some help this morning?' 'Oh, have mercy, YES!' I croaked out. With that she glided her right hand along her hip and crept under my cock, her fingers wrapping commandingly around my tumescence. Her stroking motion was met by my own thrusting. My knees buckled every time the inflamed head of my cock rumbled through her fingers. She sensed I was getting close. Surprising me, she spun around and sat on the tub's edge. Switching hands, she pulled me by my staff closer to her with her left hand. With her right, she cupped her left breast, rubbing her pitched rubbery nipple all along and around my cock. Her nipple pressing into me as my cock pressed into her yielding breast was too much. I put my left hand on her shoulder and grabbed the shower curtain rod with my right for balance. With one last measured stroke, she drew up over my screaming, purple cockhead, then back down along the swollen shaft and held firm. Within a second, semen ruptured out of me and up her breast with such force it shot up off her shoulder onto the curtain behind. The next splashes hit her breast and, accelerated by the water and soap, slithered around her nipple and dripped onto her thigh. Catching my breath, I looked at her wide eyed. 'That was new!' 'Just trying to keep it interesting,' she said slyly as she washed my cum off her body. She rinsed and, with a kiss and an empathetic glance at my dozing euphoric penis, stepped out of the shower.