Daily Prompt: Puncture

via Daily Prompt: Puncture

Reva was stuck in such a slump.  Life had become monotonous, and simply getting out of bed to face the day was a challenge more often than not.  She had become bored in her current job, bored of her predictably safe personal life, and felt stifled in the bubble she was living in.  She felt a need for adventure and to explore the world, yet  she was too wrapped up in her anxious ridden body to puncture the bubble and live freely to pursue any of her interests.

She lined up to clock out of her predictably safe and routine job.  The bustle of coworkers and excitement for the weekend to come should have worn off on her, energized her, and made her excited for the weekend, but it just didn’t work.  Friends were planning dinner dates, outings and work sessions, and she just seemed disinterested. She was physically present, but mentally miles away.

Social functions weren’t as appealing as they used to be, but she was running out of excuses.  She could only act for so long, and she was tired of acting normal when she was broken inside. She saw herself as all gray, a wet blanket, incapable of fun or spontaneity, and she was scared others would see her that way, too.

She made her way towards the exit but was called back to the boss’s office.  Shoot.  She didn’t want to, but she didn’t see any way out of it, either.  She trailed back into the now empty room of cubicles, down a hallway past the copier machine and into the office that had a window.  She tepidly stepped inside and asked what he called her for.

Oh, no.  He had started his weekend spirits a bit early, and she had the distinct feeling he wasn’t offering any professional advice or a career advancement.  He was hoping to advance on her.  She stayed near the door, but he asked her to sit.  She was a slave to her naturally submissive demeanor and complied.

He came around his desk and leaned against it, just a foot or two from where she was sitting.  He was a nasty old man who barely took care of himself, but he knew he ruled the roost here in this office and had people kissing his ass 24/7.  She didn’t want to be another to add to that list, so she stiffened her shoulders and prepared to deal with whatever they were about to deal with.

Her pukey boss, Jerry, started going on about her abilities and how she was shining in the office and her work was well above par, la ti da.  She had heard it all before.  She was good at what she did, but she lacked passion.  She no longer enjoyed the creative aspect of marketing, correction, she no longer liked having her creativity squandered while she was placed on teams that carried out monotonous projects, all the same but with different names, and she was losing her natural gift.  She hated it here.

She came back to reality, and he had leaned in so close she could smell his rancid breath.  He had placed his hand on her thigh, possibly as a gesture of sincerity, but she wasn’t having it.  She brushed his hand off, and he seemed offended.  He came back with a list of things she needed to do in order to advance in the company, something she didn’t want, but he seemed certain she did.  In his speech about how she was capable of so much more and a bunch of other BS, his hand landed on her thigh again.  Her stomach did a flip; this was getting old and fast.  She attempted to brush his hand off and stand, but he held her in the chair.  Fear seeped into her body, and she finally made eye contact with him.

“Let go of me, now, or I’ll scream” she said, punctuating each syllable with a confidence she didn’t know she still had, unearthing a part of her she loved and wished she could return to.

He laughed at her statement, or possibly just at her, and she morphed her fear into anger.  “I’d love to make you scream, scream for me, for only me, there’s no one else here to hear,” he laughed in his disgustingly disturbing way.  She looked out his other window that overlooked the sea of cubicles and saw that he was right.  She vowed to not let him o get away with this.

He lifted his hand to touch her face, and she took advantage of the moment.  She lunged at him and pushed him back into the desk, throwing off his balance, as she dashed out of the office.  By the time his foggy brain figured out what had just happened, she was gone.  She sprinted out the door, down the hall and back out to the front steps of the building.

It wasn’t until she was gasping for air on the top step, the sun shining painfully in her eyes causing her to squint, that she looked back.  He had not followed, and she was so thankful.  She caught her breath as she started her walk home just as she felt her phone buzz.

The caller ID identified the caller as Mo’s Art and she hurriedly answered.  She had just interviewed there and was hoping she had been hired.  Her heart sank, however, as she heard the routine, we have a bunch of great candidates, you included, but we picked someone else line of crap.  Her heart sank.  She was going to be stuck at this shit hole of an office the rest of her life.  She hated it.  She hated the building, she hated her boss, and she was starting to hate her coworkers and their cheerful attitudes day in and day out.  This place suffocated her; she wanted out.

She made it to the front door of her perfect little house, the colors all of her choosing, the art all of her making, and the closets all organized her way.  Yes, her husband lived here, too, and she loved him, she really did, but things had gotten predictable, boring, and safe.  She imagined just leaving this place.  Just hopping in her car and driving into the sunset, leaving her crappy job and boring home life behind.  She would drive until she found a beach and just lived there for eternity.  Maybe she would learn to surf.  Maybe she would read the library of books she kept displayed on her shelves at home.  Maybe she would just make sand castles all day and die happy.

She started thinking this beautiful plan over.  If she did take off today, what would she be searching for?  She no doubt would be searching for love, a lover, and a loving home.  She would be looking for places to explore and study and learn in a safe manner.  She would taste new foods and explore new positions.  She would spice things up a bit.

A thought struck her, so contrary to her normal line of thinking.  Usually she rounded back to reality where she knew that she would never be able to start over, she would never hurt her husband that way, and she would always be stuck here.  But maybe that wasn’t the case?  Maybe she could still be here with the love of her life, the perfect lover, in this loving, safe home, but maybe she could spice things up a bit here?

Maybe she could change the looks of the interior of her home, get creative with the walls and decorations again?  Maybe she could take her husband with her on some adventures, beg him to take risks with her like exploring caves and climbing mountains and visiting new museums and landmarks.  Maybe she could get him to try new things in the bedroom?

Would he be open to any of this?  Would he consider leaving their perfectly crafted home in search of adventure, even if only on the weekends?  It would sure give her something to look forward to.  Would he want her to change the way the house looks?  The way their bedroom looks?  He had given her free reign, but she wondered if he liked it or wished it were different?  and the hardest one to think about in her opinion, would he be open to new explorations in bed?  Would he want to try new positions, something different or kinky or exciting?  Or did they cross all that off the list in the early years of their marriage, and going back would only be awkward and embarrassing?

She didn’t know, and worse yet, she didn’t know how to broach the subject without sounding like a bored child too spoiled to see the greatness before her, or that she didn’t appreciate what she already had, which was great.

These thoughts excited her and tickled her thinking bones as she prepared supper that evening.  How could she approach the subject with her husband?  Any of them?

***

Quentin arrived home after work to the house smelling amazing.  Reva was amazing in a million different ways, and her cooking was one of his favorites, along with her eye for design and lush curves that designed her body.  He loved looking at her, looking at her work, and devouring her meals.  She worked hard, but he had noticed the bags under her eyes and unusually pale skin.  He was wondering if the stress was maybe getting to her?  Something wasn’t right, but he didn’t know what it was let alone how to fix it.

He came up behind her, and surprised her with a kiss.   She usually smiled and chided him for interrupting her hard work, but this time she just set down the spatula and turned to kiss him, right square on the lips.  She kissed with an expectancy he hadn’t felt in years, and it excited him.  Maybe his old Reva was back?

He fell in love with Reva seven years ago.  He could remember the day he decided he could no longer live life without her by his side.  She had just finished a mural on her hallway wall, something spectacularly amazing as always, and he stepped into her small house as he did every night after work and said hello.  She had this smile a mile wide and she was so happy.  She had paint covering nearly all of her body, and her hair was even dashed here and there with unnatural colors, but when she laid eyes on him, he knew he was hers for life.  If she could be this happy with just some paint and him at her side, what more could there be?  The very next day he went out to buy her a ring, and it had worked out wonderfully.

Seven years and she only seemed to get prettier every day.  Her artwork always improved, and she incorporated it into everything she did.  Her artful ways with seasonings always paid off in the kitchen, her artful ways with decorating was always pleasing to the eye, and her artful ways in the bedroom had kept him satisfied for so long he didn’t even know how it was possible.

His heart had broke a bit the past few months as her smile had started to fade, her excitement and zeal for life waned, and her anxiety had risen to a point where she didn’t enjoy the things she had once loved.  He felt like he was losing his beautiful wife, but he had no idea how to stop the train wreck.  It was both going in slow motion, he could see it coming and the imminent destruction it would create, but it was also happening faster than he could fix.

This kiss, though.  This kiss here in their kitchen was the old Reva returning, though clearly tasting of her latest bottle of wine, and he was left breathless as she returned to preparing the meal.  She placed their meal in front of them a few minutes later and sat down with a giddy bounce.  Drunk Reva was always entertaining.  When her inhibitions were released, they always brought out the best in her.  She was a fun drunk, though always a handful.

He wondered what had sparked this solo drinking spree, but he had a feeling he would find out soon enough.  He watched her as he ate, and she clearly had something on her mind.  “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked her.

She bit her bottom lip as she devised an answer.  “I’ve been thinking…” she started.  “More like I have forgotten some things and was hoping to rediscover them,” she corrected.

He felt his eye brow raise in wonderment of what was going through her delightful mind.  “Ask away, I’m an open book.”

“What if I ask a question that hurts your feelings?  I don’t want to hurt you, I just want to remember, or learn….” she mumbled the last part.

“I promise to not get offended,” he said as he raised his right hand in an oath of sincerity.

“Well, uhm, I was wondering if it would be all right to redecorate the house a bit.  I was wondering if you even liked some of the stuff around here, or if you just say so in order to not hurt my feelings?” she asked vulnerably.

“Anything you make always impresses me,” he said, honestly.  “I think our home is perfect, but if you’d like to change anything I’m perfectly fine with that, too.”  He suddenly wondered what she didn’t like, what parts made her dissatisfied so that she wanted change?  The question meant to bring them together seemed to highlight a void he didn’t realize was there.

She smiled in answer and finished her meal.  This had his mind reeling all the next week.

***

Reva was thrilled when he was fine with an update.  She instantly drew up plans and ideas and taped color swatches to the walls to get a sense of what colors would work best with the lighting in her rooms.  She was excited, each evening she changed something small, designed something new, and worked to create spaces that excited her.  It gave her something to look forward to while being a robot at work.

Her favorite was the redesign of her bedroom.  She wanted something that ignited her senses, made her desire its presence, but also comfortable and efficient enough to serve its purpose.  She imagined deep red walls, a deep wine color with wooden planks covering the bottom third, creating a beautiful visual line.  She wanted a chandalier to light the room, and she found a gorgeous updated antique at the local repurposing store.  She kept their furniture as they had chosen a timelessly class design years earlier, but positioned the mirrors over the dressers so that it could be exciting in the right position atop the bed..

She decided that she wanted, desired, needed a four poster bed. She imagined beautiful fabric floating over the top and dancing down the beautifully crafted beams.  It had been a dream as a child, but as an adult it had been in her dreams for very different reasons.  If she actually had one, it would improve her chances of those adult dreams coming true she told herself, and decided to order one to be installed soon.

Now onto her next dream: getting out of the house and exploring the world a bit.  Well, maybe she would start with some local attractions she had yet to discover and go from there.  By some small miracle, her homebody husband agreed to explore with her, and they spent weekends exploring historical places of interest, a nearby art museum, and a few dining establishments.  She had felt her joy start to fill her soul, cherishing small details about each visit.

She was doing things she loved with the man she loved, and they were growing closer.  The long drives to and from the places improved their conversations and she was starting to ask the questions that had been on her mind for so long.  Were steak and potatoes still his favorite supper?  Did he still enjoy playing baseball?  Did he wish to actually attend games, or did he prefer to watch them at home?  Such simple things, but assumptions had covered truths and time changes everything, and she was pleasantly surprised with his ability to ask meaningful questions as well.  All was well.

Tomorrow night their bed would be installed with the high mattress, and that’s when she was finally going to broach that last subject, the one most intimate in her opinion and most difficult to broach.  How could she ask to spice up their sex life without making it seem as though he wasn’t doing it for her anymore?  He was, and she should be satisfied, but she was curious.  Would he think she was whorish or disgusting for admitting her deepest sexual desires?  Would he think she was crazy and finally went off the deep end?

She was so nervous that she found herself at the bottom of a bottle of wine once again.  She had only done that twice in the past few years, and she was afraid of making it a habit.  She reasoned that it loosened her lips and bolstered her confidence, so she let it slide over her tongue and down her throat.  She fiddled in the kitchen until an adequate meal was prepared, and then she waited.  The waiting was unbearable.  The longer she waited, the more she doubted her plan.

***

Quentin came home from work, yet again to the wondrous smell of dinner drifting up to his nostrils from the entry.  He removed his boots and followed his nose to the kitchen, where he found his wife nervously fidgeting at the table.  He greeted her with a kiss, and she quickly put a plate of food in front of him.  Again he knew she had hit the wine, and he wondered what was prompting this burst of youth from his wife.  She had been asking him along on mini adventures out of town, she had totally redecorated that house, and she had cooked for him more times this month than she had in the past year.  He wasn’t sure what the change was that brought this about, but he loved it.  Each adventure drew her out of her shell just a bit more, and more of the old Reva he fell in love with came popping out at every turn.

She had become confident again, remembering where her passions and interests were, and he was thrilled that she included him in her dreams.  He would never grow old of hearing what thoughts went through her mind, and spending extra time together lately had really helped fill in a lot of blanks, many blanks he didn’t realize were missing, and his interest in his beautiful wife piqued.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he asked, hoping she would let him know those small details of her life that meant so much to her.  She nervously wrenched her fingers together in her hands, her plate untouched, and her brows furrowed together.  He reached over and filled her empty wine glass, now emptying the bottle.  He was hoping her lips would loosen enough to spill the beans.

“I, uhm,” she started, trying to find the words.  “I have ah, been thinking a lot lately, about us.”  Well, that had seemed like a good thing, until now.

She continued, “I ah, I wanted to play a game of twenty questions, but I only want to play if you are one hundred percent, completely totally honest about your answers.  And you can ask me twenty questions about anything and I’ll be vulnerable and show the true me in my answers, too.  What do you think?”

“I”m in,” was all he said, instantly knowing if that’s what it took to figure her out, then consider it done.

“Question one,” she began.  “Are you completely satisfied with our sex life?”

Wow.  He had not been expecting that.  He was completely satisfied.  She was always willing to let him fill her, and her heat always brought him to climax.  It worked well.  He wondered if she felt the same way….

“Yes, I get complete satisfaction each and every time,” he said, a grin playing across his face.  “Are you?” he returned the question.

She twisted her fingers around in her hands before speaking out, “Yes and no.  Yes in that I always leave satisfied.  No in that it has become too easy.  I am craving some adventure in my life, the bedroom included.  I hope you don’t take that the wrong way.”

He was not hurt by this at all.  In fact it intrigued him.  What did she desire that he had skipped over?

“Question two,” she continued.  “Have you ever wanted to spank me?”

Well, she cut right to the chase.  There were times in the middle of an argument where the thought had crossed his mind, but he loved his dear wife and would never consider acting upon it.  She wanted honesty.  How could he answer that?

He gulped, taking his time to answer.  “I’ve never wanted to hurt you” he said as honestly as possible.

“It’s a yes or no question,” she pushed the issue.

“Yes.  Have you ever wanted to be spanked?” he asked, his throat going dry.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes falling to the floor.  “I don’t want an abusive relationship or to be controlled,” she explained, “But a few slaps in the throes of passion would possibly turn me on.  I’ve always wondered is all.”

“Question three,” she went on quickly.  He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to get through all twenty questions without hauling to the bedroom and having his way with her.  “Have you ever wanted to put your tongue between my legs?” she asked, cutting straight to the point.  He cock jerked in answer.

“Yes, many times, but you made it clear early on that you were not comfortable with that,” he said.  “Have you now the desire for me to do that?”

Her face started to flush, and she nodded her head.  Her voice was barely a whisper.  “It used to make me so nervous, so vulnerable, but I feel like we are on a different level now than we were then, and I kind of want to try it again.”

He wanted to clear the table and take her right now.  Twenty questions was too many.  In the future he would need to shorten that number straight out.  “Question four?” he asked, prompting her to hurry.

“I have a million more questions.  Can I please suck your dick?  I know you seem like I shouldn’t want to, but I do. If I’m just plain bad at it, what can I do to make it more pleasurable?  Would you please verbalize or position my body in ways that makes it as pleasant for you as it is for me?  Can we try new things, but can we be honest enough to say if it really isn’t working?  I would love a head to toe naked massage, and I want to return the favor, but I want you to be honest about what feels good and what annoys you.  So many questions, so little time, and I feel like if I don’t start answering them now, the only way I’ll find out is by force, by someone I don’t want these things to happen with, like my stupid boss Jerry, and I just want you to want them, and not just do them because I want them.  So many questions, Quentin, so little time.  Where do I start?”

“You can start with telling my why do you think your boss Jerry would do these things to you?” he asked, a protectiveness coursing through his veins he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Because he has made it clear he wants me, and he thinks he can, and I am afraid I’ll get fired if I say anything.  It’s such a mess, Quentin!  I’ve wanted to tell you things for so long, but I was trapped inside, stuck in my own head and didn’t know how to get it out.  I am so sorry!”

“Has he touched you?” he asked leaning forward, a primal chord struck.  He was ready to beat the guy with his bare hands, and he had never punched anyone in his life.

“He tried, but I wouldn’t let him.  I promise, Quentin, I promise I didn’t let him touch me, well except once when he touched my thigh but I pushed him away.  And there’s more.  I’ve been applying to different jobs around town, trying to get out of that hell hole, and I keep failing.  I keep failing so badly, Quentin!  and worse yet I feel like I am failing you!” The more she talked, the more the tears fell.  His dear sweet wife was suffering so much more than he knew, and he vowed to never let the gap between them get that way ever again.

He wrapped her in his arms, and when she finished shuddering with tears, he threw her up and over his shoulder and hauled her upstairs to the bedroom.  She shrieked in surprise in such a way that it ignited the caveman within himself.  He wanted to possess her, to let her know that he was hers no matter what, that he would protect her, that he would be the only one to hear her aroused shrieks.

“You’re done at Jerry’s office, you know that right?” he asked as calmly as possible.

“But if I quit, Quentin, who knows when I’ll get another job,” she said to his back.  “I’d never have a regular income as an artist, and I couldn’t get you the things you want.  We couldn’t afford your sports car or your boat or your other stuff without the second income.  I’d be failing you so much, Quentin, and I refuse to do that!”

“You mean to say that you return to work everyday to a job that I am learning you hate, just so I can have nice things?” he asked, so stupefied at her reasoning that he found himself standing still in his own hallway.

“Yes, in effect” she said.

He slapped her beautiful ass still bent over his shoulder, and she shrieked again.  “Never again, Reva.  You mean more to me than any material thing on this planet.  I love you more than my boat or car or anything else in this house.  I want you happy more than I want my next breath.”

He stood her up in their bedroom, and he admired their brand new bed, the bed she skillfully selected to be the focal point of their lair.  He looked her in the eye, and she seemed to be a pleasant mix of confused and aroused.  “You like?” she asked, waving her arm about the room.

“I love,” he said, not wanting to wait another minute to make their sex life as adventurous as the room she had just designed.  “Now strip.”

Her eyes opened wide for a moment before the twinkle shocked him.  He had never spoken to her in that tone or with that much dictation, but she liked him like this, at least tonight.  And quite frankly he was so riled up by this fucking Jerry that his need to possess her in a new way was riveting.

She slowly took her clothes off and deposited them on a pile on their floor.  He smiled at his pleasure with getting to look at her incredible body, standing there so beautiful for him to see.  She wasn’t hiding behind a nightie or the blankets, she had bared herself just for him, and he appreciated her courage.

“Excellent.  Even after all these years you make me horny every time I see you naked.  You drive me crazy, Reva,” he said, his voice hoarse.

He watched the flush creep up her neck, and he knew he wanted to see it on her ass.  He wanted to leave his mark on his woman, and for the first time he realized that she possibly desired this as well.  “Crawl up on the mattress and spread your legs.”

When she hesitated, he filled in the gaps for her.  “Reva, I love seeing your naked body, every inch of it, so don’t get shy now.  I said crawl up on that mattress and spread your legs.

Her eyes were still wild as an owl’s and she seemed locked in place.  “You are my wife, and you can always say no, but if you want to know what I want, I want you to crawl up there and spread your legs for me, and only me.”

She gulped, but she turned to the bed and did as he asked.  He saw her glory, “you’re so wet for me,” he announced.

“Always” she said, the truth enlarging his aching cock even further.

 

***

Reva couldn’t believe how well things were going.  Maybe it was the wine talking, but she felt like she had unleashed the sexy beast she had always secretly hoped her husband would be.  Not always, but often enough to keep things exciting.

She climbed up on their now very tall mattress, keeping her eyes on her husband, and spread her legs, expecting him to plunge into her, hoping he would do just that.

“Wider” he commanded, and she spread them so wide that she knew he could see every part of her.  Every square inch.  She felt vulnerable, but the heated look in his eyes lessened any insecurities she may have had.  He walked over to her, pulled her ass to the edge of the bed, and got down on his knees.  He ran his fingers up the inside of her thighs before he braced her legs over his shoulders and ran his tongue over her clit.

She moaned in ecstasy.  He licked her clit again, circling it, flicking it with his tongue, and driving her absolutely insane.  When she couldn’t take it any more, she begged him to enter her.  And he did, but only with his fingers.  He brought her to another climax nearly instantly, and she wondered why she didn’t just beg him to do this years ago.  She was writhing in pleasure, her back arched, her hips bucking, and her hands made their way to her tits.  She was in heaven.

When he squeezed the last orgasm from her, stretching it out endlessly with his skilled fingers and tongue, she wanted to return the favor.  She wanted his long velvety length in her mouth, and she wanted to taste him the way he tasted her.  Before she had a chance to verbalize this in her hazy aroused state, he stood, lifted her hips off the mattress and plunged himself into her.

She knew she could take his length, she had taken pleasure in that simple act many times before, but at this angle his cock plunged deeper than ever, drawing another moan from her lips.  He penetrated her time and time again, and when her world starting cracking in ecstasy, he breathed, “Come for me baby,” and she did.  She felt his body stiffen, his cock jerk, and she knew he had finally received the relief that she so gratefully took.  He collapsed on top of her, and she wrapped her rubber limbs around him, appreciating his weight and warmth.

Yes, this was a good gamble.  He eventually cut the lights and crawled under the sheets, pulling her back into his embrace.  She thanked the lucky stars that she had the guts to puncture the safe bubble they had been living in to release this explosion, sending a fresh ripple of adventure that would last throughout their entire lives together.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

wickedcoolflight

where author's dreams take flight

Sweet and Unholy

Book Reviews & Personal Hell Hole

morgannawilliams's Blog

The Romance of Spanking

Beauty's Expert Amateur

The 21st century woman's take on adult face paint.

A Mark of my Own

Unraveling my thoughts with writing

Sometimes Stellar Storyteller

Writing by numbers, outside of the lines

MyKnowledge.blog

One Woman's Quest to Entertain Herself

Ana Linden

Writing Life

Thought trail

Trail of stories, poems, observations and more!

SUBDUED FLAMBOYANCE

A blog by Dr. Abhinav Majumder

Meyer Clark Studio

A Creative Journey

A Pocket Full Of Wanderlust

" Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. " Mark Twain

Just Writing!

A place to improve my writing skills, and that's all.

Damsel with a Drill

The Never-Ending Chronicles of Homeownership

Dark Side of the Moon

the side of me most people never see

PRAYERS TO THE COSMOS

Words to God in the Spirit of A COURSE IN MIRACLES and A COURSE OF LOVE. . .with Celia Hales

%d bloggers like this: