Nick and I have been happily married for almost five years. Like most couples, we have a routine of sorts when it comes to sex. Our date nights are typically quiet stay-at-home affairs. We both love to cook dinners and try new wines, so unless there’s a restaurant that intrigues us, we see no need to go out. Being home also has an added benefit: It allows me to brazenly tease him by wearing lingerie. It may be predictable, but it is always pleasurable.

However, when I’m stuck working the overnight shift at the hospital where I’m employed — while my nine-to-five man is relaxing at home — it can definitely be challenging to carve out some special couple time. Fortunately, Nick is a natural at sexting. When I get a break at work and check my phone, his dirty messages leave my pussy dripping. His raunchy — and inspiring — words play in my head until we’re reunited and tearing off each other’s clothes!

However, I’m not going to lie. Sometimes I’m too turned on to wait. When that happens, I’ll slip into the ladies’ room on my break and give myself a quick little climax, so the sexual tension doesn’t drive me to distraction.

As for my writing skills, I’m no poet. But I definitely reply to his texts and play along. However, my real love language for Nick doesn’t involve words — though it is very oral, if you get my drift.

When I arrived home last week, I was still wired after working all night. I knew there was only a short window of time before Nick would wake and rush out the door to his own job. I hurried down the hall to our bedroom because I wanted to give him a sexy send-off.

I found Nick still blissfully sleeping. I undressed, hoping he’d open an eye and catch my striptease, but he didn’t.

I’m five-foot-two and naturally curvy with a big booty that my hubby loves to squeeze and bell-shaped breasts that drive him wild.

I unfastened the clip in my ash blonde hair, allowing it to tumble down in loose waves past my shoulders. Next, I carefully lifted the covers. He must’ve been having a good dream because his cock was already in a semi-stiff state.

Allow me to gush about my husband for a moment. Nick is gorgeous. He’s the definition of tall, dark and handsome. We’re both in our mid-40s. He has lifted weights since college, and his buff bod is cut. So the man-fur that dusts his torso looks utterly primal amidst all of his toned muscles. He also has strong, sturdy thighs that I love seeing and stroking. He knows I prefer him hairy, but we both agree that a little strategic manscaping around his pubic region provides a pleasing aesthetic that is also oral friendly.

As dicks go, Nick won the lottery there, too — and no, not because he has some circus-like 13-inch cock. I’ve always felt that anything over eight inches is a waste. But to be honest, what matters most for me is being attracted to the guy attached to the dick. If he knows how to wield his sword, that’s even better. My husband’s dick — with its slightly above average length and delicious girth — is perfection to me. I can never get enough of him. I think about his dick obsessively. I picture him in my mouth, in my pussy and even up my ass. I’m not afraid to say it: I am my husband’s cock-hungry slut.

I took in the enticing view of his semi-erect rod while he snoozed, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I slid into bed beside him, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. As I cozied up to him, I felt my nipples stiffen. He stirred, but didn’t open his eyes just yet, so I got bolder. I stroked his neck and guided my hand down his chest and beyond. Nick sighed and opened his eyes just as my fist was closing around his cock.

“Morning, baby,” I whispered. “Did you sleep well?”

Nick drew in a deep breath as I stroked his shaft.

“Yeah, but waking up is even better,” he replied.

My husband changed his position, rolling onto his back to give me better access to his erection. I straddled him, kissed him and then let him bury his head between my tits.

I sat up and wiggled my hips, feeling his formidable shaft poking against my wet cunt. Nick groaned and attempted to pull me back down for another kiss, but I evaded his efforts.

“Not so fast, mister,” I teased. “I haven’t had my breakfast.”

“That’s fine by me,” he replied. “I like when you’re a little hungry.”

I kissed my way down Nick’s chest and stomach as I backed down his body. I wanted to take my time, but the minute I reached his rock-solid dick, I felt myself salivating.

“Such a perfect prick,” I purred as I slowly slid his foreskin back and let his crown touch my lips. As the tender glans was fully revealed, I teased the sensitive head, swirling my tongue around it. I let my tongue linger, coating his crown with my saliva before letting some of my spit dribble down his shaft.

I’ve always though the term blowjob was a misnomer because so much of the action happens in the mouth. But when it comes to giving head, I’m also very hands-on. Nothing gets my husband going quite like the warm, wetness of my mouth and tongue combined with some strategic pumping of his piston. I sometimes milk him with my tits, too. It’s always fun to hug his prick with my plush melons. I love deep-throating him and having him come in my mouth, but even with solid oral skills in play, I never dismiss what my hands — and my other parts — can contribute to our fun.

When his shaft was sufficiently slick, I ran my tongue up and down the underside of it, honing in on his crown’s most sensitive spot. I flicked my tongue tip against it before taking him deep in my mouth. I swallowed him completely, taking him all the way down my throat. But ever the tease, I didn’t let him linger there long and quickly pulled back.

Nick reached down and took hold of my hair. I inhaled and swallowed him again. Still holding him in my mouth, I looked up and our eyes met. I have yet to find a word that encompasses that intimate moment of connection, but it’s like all the ravenous desire between us is at once acknowledged and unleashed.

I released a guttural moan, allowing the vibrations of my throat to stimulate him even more before I pulled away again.

“I’ve been waiting for this all fucking day,” I told him on a sigh.

“You mean all night,” Nick joked.

I continued to stroke him and rewarded his patience by taking him in my mouth once more. I focused on soft, shallow face-fucking motions that allowed me to really use my lips to add some delicious friction. My poor husband was visibly sweating; his breathing had become even more ragged. For good measure, I gave his balls a gentle squeeze, while stroking his shaft with my other hand and maintaining the luscious, wet pressure of my lips around his head.

I pulled back and let a pearly strand of his pre-come and my saliva stretch out between us.

“I’m gonna milk you dry,” I whispered, watching him squirm.

“Oh fuck!” Nick exclaimed. Those seemed to be the only words he could muster.

He caressed my face as my hair spilled everywhere. I took another deep breath and devoured his dick, swallowing him until I felt his cockhead tap the back of my throat.

My husband and I have been playing these deep-throating games for years. I’m well aware that I can make him crazy by turning the game into tease and denial. When we get into a rhythm of face-fucking, I have tricks to keep him teetering on the edge if I so desire. But that morning, we had little patience and were both craving release.

As our pace quickened, I teasingly tugged his scrotum. I knew Nick was close to climaxing, and I wanted to make the most of the experience. I intensified my suction and increased the volume of my moans. I wanted to hit him with unending waves of stimulation from the back of my throat, all the way to my lips.

When I heard him gasp and call my name, I knew he was about to shoot. I pulled back just a bit and let him ejaculate right on the middle of my tongue. I opened my mouth because I know he loves the visual effect of seeing his jizz and my spit mingling. I maintained eye contact with him as I closed my mouth and swallowed every last drop of his salty load.

“Baby, that was fucking amazing,” Nick said, sounding breathless.

I made a show of licking my lips. He pulled me up for a kiss. I noticed his organ was spent but still glistening with my spit. He caught me eyeing his junk and smirked.

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready again,” he promised.

“Good, because I want you to do me before I go to sleep — and you go to work,” I told him.

“Whatever my sweetie wants. I’m always happy to show my appreciation for a wake-up call.”

Nick kissed my neck and began sucking my tits. I closed my eyes, blissing out as he worked his way down between my legs. He zealously ate my pussy, and in no time, I was wracked by thrilling orgasmic spasms.

Once we’d both recovered, we enjoyed a doggy-style fuck and finished with a shower. Nick then headed off to his job, and I drifted off to sleep. 

When we talk about the secrets to a happy marriage, some folks have accused us of simply paying lip service. But they don’t know the half of it!