Welcome to the suck....

I knelt before him in the shower, the water hitting him in the back, the mist curling around his body to wet my own. I leaned forward and took him into my mouth, slowly, gingerly. He was barely hard, his brain knowing what I was about to do causing his body to react. As I wrapped my lips around him, my tongue tasting his skin I felt him hardening in my mouth. He let out a breathy moan, encouragement.

I leaned closer, taking more of him into my mouth as more of him was available. I rubbed my tongue (and the stud in it) over his cock listening to his breathing. My hand came up to cup his balls and jerk his cock into my mouth. I could taste him leaking his fluid, readying himself for orgasm.

I sucked him longer, harder. My mouth getting a little sore, wanting to feel him cum. I rubbed his cock over my face, enjoying the sensation, hoping he'd cum on me when he was ready.

Instead he punched the wall. I jumped a little. "Frustrated?" I asked, confused. "Yeah," he responded grimly. I rubbed my pussy idly "I'm really wet right now."

I returned to my administations, still enjoying the feel and taste of his cock. While it's not something I'm capable of doing all day... I certainly wish it was. Finally, he sighed, "I'm just not there," he said, "I'm going to the bedroom, hurry up, okay?" I nodded and took a quick shower before joining him in the bedroom, our bodies still damp. His cock was still hard, starting to turn a little purple.

He lay down in front of me and I knelt over him, taking his cock back into my mouth, fingers teasing his balls again. I worked hard to help him to cum but finally... my arm was tired. My tongue sore from the fresh piercing. "You'll have to help," I finally said, "I'm sorry." He took his cock eagerly in hand and began to masturbate. I leaned in, watching him, enjoying the tension in his face and the increasing tightness of his balls. I let my tongue lick up and along the tip, careful not to interfere.. or become an accidental casualty.

Finally, he came. It was a good one. Not great, perhaps more of a relief than pleasure. I tossed him my towel so he can clean up. And then he began getting dressed, "I'm going downstairs," he said. I don't remember if he even looked at me. And then he's gone.

And I lay there, inexplicably shocked at the lack of offers to help me achieve my own release. But I shouldn't be surprised, isn't that how Husband always is?