My wife Jenny and I had just welcomed our third child into the world and, to say the least, our time to get busy was strained.

I suppose we’d fallen into those familiar cock-blockers that afflict any new parent: kids knocking on the door, wanting to crawl into our bed, feedings in the middle of the night. We had to invent new ways to keep the kink alive in our lives, usually in a constrained window of time.

After a particularly trying week at my wealth management firm and our two older kids throwing up all over the house with a stomach bug, Jenny’s stress level was through the roof, and I was reaching for the nearest bottle of whiskey to numb my senses. So I decided we should get away for a night. The next Friday evening, my mom took the kids and Jenny and I snuck off like we used to in college.

After the twenty-minute drive from the suburbs, we checked in to the swanky midcentury hotel in downtown Charlotte. The room itself looked like a throwback to the sixties, with deep wingback chairs and minimalist aesthetics. I asked Jenny to go up to the room first because it made things feel more illicit, like I was meeting someone who wasn’t my wife.

When I opened the door, Jenny was waiting for me in the black crotchless bodysuit I’d bought her a few years before. The sexy getup hadn’t seen the light of day in ages, not since the kids. The last time we’d done anything remotely kinky was before our oldest, who was now nine, was born. Since then, the only time Jenny ever really got freaky was when she had a few drinks in her system to relax her. So to see her waiting there on the bed was a prized treat.

“Hey mister,” Jenny called to me. Lying there with smoldering brown eyes, she bit her lip as she beckoned me closer with one lonely index finger. Her dirty blonde hair fell in a haphazardly sexy way, and with one leg cast languidly over the other, she looked almost foreign: transformed from the familiar vessel of my wife to an exotic vamp, uninhibited by morals. This new breed of woman didn’t care about the baby needing to be fed, she just wanted to get fucked.

Before I could get champagne into the flutes, Jenny grabbed me by the belt loops and peeled my pants and boxers off. My wife being the boss was a nice change of pace. I called the shots all day at work, and it got a little tedious being in charge all the time.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Jenny batted her lashes coquettishly, taking my cock into her eager hands. She was making an effort to talk dirty and I liked it.

Kneeling at the foot of the bed, Jenny ran her painted red nails down my hairy chest. Then she leaned down to take my hard cock in her mouth.

“Well, someone wastes no time,” I said down to the mass of blonde hair moving back and forth.

“Mmmmm, yes.” Jenny cupped my balls while flicking my engorged cock with her tongue. I looked down at her brooding eyes staring up at me, and it seemed dirty and carnal and everything that the demands of parenting had seemingly interrupted. I started bucking, pushing my pelvis into Jenny’s mouth, grabbing a tuft of her hair.

I took her from behind, watching the butt plug vibrate with each thrust.

“I’m going to come,” I told her. Her mouth was like a vibrating vacuum around my cock, sending me me over the edge. I finally released her hair and blew a long, hard stream into her mouth.

Jenny’s eyes were dark and devious, a far cry from the motherly wife I had come to know. She cracked a smile as a milky drop streamed out of the corner of her mouth, and swallowed my entire load. To see my wife this way drove me wild.

But I wasn’t done — she needed to come. Grabbing me by the collar, she unbuttoned my shirt and I fell between her legs. Our foreheads locked together, I dove into her mouth, sucking on her bottom lip while reaching for a little surprise I wanted to try.

“What’s that?” Jenny asked.

“A butt plug.”

“Seriously?”

I knew it would be an uphill battle to get her to try anal again after some previous failed attempts. But I also knew that seeing my wife’s tight asshole with a plug in it would drive me absolutely wild. I poured some lube on the small silicone device and assured Jenny that this time would be different. I’d heard that sometimes, after a few kids, a woman’s desires change. I wanted to find out.

Taking a swig of champagne, Jenny got on all fours and let me insert the plug. A slight twinge and it was in. I then began licking the folds of her pussy ever so slowly, and her moans began to fill the room. I inserted a few fingers, and soon we were ready for round two. I took her from behind, watching the plug vibrate with each thrust. I kept pounding until suddenly Jenny clenched from deep within.

“Oh my God, Mark, don’t stop,” she gasped. Looking down at my wife, I saw her body had turned to putty, and without thinking about it, it happened: a giant climax, pouring out all over my dick. That was the fastest she had ever come. Maybe we were onto something.

The following morning we made our way back home; it was only eight miles, but it seemed like we were going to another country. Since then, Jenny and I have made a pact to have staycations as often as possible, partly for release and partly because…well, anyone who has kids will understand.

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