Steamy Stories: Stress Reduction

Stress Reduction

A Friday Fantasty

 

The dull sounds of über warriors shooting each other descended through the floorboards to Tamara’s bedroom. Her older son Jacob was waging war on the gaming system and the twins, just 5 years old, were his dedicated audience.

 

Tamara knew they were too young to watch that kind of video game, but the younger boys had been hellions all day long. At one point, she’d even found the cat skulking around the house with wet Incredible Hulk underwear tied to its tail with a twist tie. This meant three things:

a)      one of the twins had waited too long to go and was currently going commando

b)       the sandwich bread for lunches tomorrow was drying out on the counter

c)       the cat had lost all will to live.

 

Tamara knew she couldn’t face one more harsh reality without committing infanticide. The moment Jacob came home from middle school, she had plopped all three of them down on the couch with a bowl of Doritos. She did not care how many acts of gaming violence they were witnessing or how many chips were getting embedded into the sofa cushions. She just did not want to deal with one more parenting crisis.

 

In the relative sanctuary of her bed room Tamara kicked off her sandals and lay curled up on top of the bedspread. The afternoon light filtered softly through the curtains and in moments she was drifting in that soft-focus world between sleeping and waking. She heard the front door click open, registered the sound of the boy’s distracted greeting to their Dad, but could not rouse herself to get up. Instead she curled herself away from the bedroom door and buried her head in her pillow.

 

“Babe?” Chris queried as he opened the bedroom door. “That bad, huh?”

Tamara rolled over on her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. “What happened?” he asked, as he deposited his things on the floor and sat down on the edge of the bed.

 

“Hellions.” Tamara moaned. “Mayhem.”

 

“Babe, I’m sorry.” Chris rubbed her back in gentle circles. “I’ll order us pizza.”

 

Tamara exhaled slowly as Chris’ hands continued their pattern. Encouraged by even this little response, Chris moved his hands lower down Tamara’s back, working the tight muscles around her tailbone. Tamara moaned again, and he drifted down her hips to work the deep tissue in her buttocks. “Babe, you are so tight.” He observed. No answer.

 

Assuming no news was good news in the amorous front, Chris slid his hands down the back of her legs and pressed the folds of her peasant skirt between her thighs. “Honey,” Tamara whispered, almost whimpering, “I can’t. I’m so tired.”

 

“All you have to do is lie here.” Chris replied.

 

“I don’t know,” she said dreamily, drifting into the comfort of his hands stroking the stress from her body.

 

“I know just where you need to loosen up.” he said in a throaty whisper. Chris slid up her skirt up her legs, running the flat of his hands up her thighs, and then lightly stroking own again with the tips of his fingers. Tamara let her legs fall a little apart. Chris repeated his strokes a few times, then let the upward stroke extend just a little further until his finger tips touched the elastic edge of her panties. Boy shorts. Chris knew Tamara thought of these as “practical,” but they totally turned Chris on. He liked the way they framed the curve of her rear, and even though there was far more material there than the special- occasion thongs, he could still pull the pliable fabric aside enough to —well, to do just about anything he wanted. He fingered the edges of the black fabric, then slid his fingers up one leg opening, touching soft hair hiding there. As he moved his hand more deliberately between her she tensed a little, then exhaled softly and relaxed. Chris stroked her with two fingers, first gently petting her like a kitten, then splicing her hair with a gentle push. Tamara moaned as Chris slipped in between her folds, stroking her hooded clit with little flicks of his finger tips. He was pleasantly surprised to find that she was already wet, and he knew in moments her clit would swell past its hood, eagerly seeking his fingers. He circled the area delighted, then, before she got too close, slid his fingers down to lower regions.

 

Chris knew from past experience that Tamara held all her tension in three places. The large muscles of her hips, the long thin muscles of her arms lower arms, and the tight hot opening of her cunt. He’d already worked the curved sides of her ass, and frankly, he was not that interested in her arms, elegant though they may be. With a push Chris slide both fingers into her and she let out a soft breathe of pleasure. Envisioning his way on to other things, Chris let his fingers slide deep into her and back out, in and out, in and out as Tamara’s breathing continued to deepen. On a last outward stroke, he took the pads of both fingers and circled along just the rim of her cunt, pulling the edges out gently, tugging the skin where the muscles felt tightest slightly up and towards her ass

 

“Ooooh. That feels so good.” Tamara moaned.

 

“I know,” he answered. Across the room on his side of the bed their dresser stood with a large oval mirror. The mirror reflected back to him the goofy, pleased look on his face. Seeing himself there in his shirt and tie, fresh from work with hand up his wife’s cunt turned him on immensely. The half-baked hard on that had been his since he saw Tamara’s legs on the bedspread now got serious, and he felt himself swell against his slacks. Hot with the thought of being inside her, Chris stroked around her tight red curve on more time, then added a third finger. He knew she liked to be full. One thrust. Two. Three. Fourfivesix. Now she was moaning incessantly, smothering the sound in her pillow. Chris was grateful for the battle that was going on upstairs on the Xbox. He could please her as much as he wanted and the three boys wouldn’t hear a thing.

 

Chris felt powerful now as the strain of the day washed away from Tamara and drenched his fingers.  “Do you want more?” he asked. She lifted her ass slightly off the bed in answer and Chris added the index finger of his other hand into the fray, stretching her as far as he could, pulling her cunt open wider as his other hand moved in and out rhythmically. He could feel Tamara’s tension release under his touch.

 

“Oh God!” Tamara groaned into the pillow.

 

Now that she was fully aroused, Chris could feel the rippled sponge of Tamara’s g-spot. He’d moaned and licked his lips. He’d recently become an expert at working this pleasure zone, and in just a few thrusts of his hand and come-hither curls of his fingers he could feel her juices rushing over him as she came. Tamara half-shrieked with the intensity of the sensation. But Chris didn’t want to stop just because she’d orgasamed once; he knew he was capable of more. He repeatedly stroked her from deep within to the very edge of her cunt, pulling down hard on the lip of her opening at the end of each stroke, stopping just short of real pain. Again with the moaning.

 

Now Christ was starving for his hot little wife, his cum beginning to weep down the sides of his swollen head. Abruptly he pulled out his hand, gasped Tamara by the hips and rotated her on the bed until she lay on her stomach with her legs hanging over the edge. Chris’s sticky fingers flew to his belt pulling it out from the buckle. He undid the button on his slack, pulled down the fly. In seconds his cock was spring out of his boxers. He thrust his pants down around his knees and three Tamara’s skirt up over her back. Her black boy shorts were pulled to one side, a darker patch of wetness showing where they were soaked in a wide swatch all around the crotch. Chris stripped them off her, watching her ass jiggle as she shook them off her ankles. Tamara slid off the bed further stretching her legs so that her calves were tight as she stood on her tip toes, her ass high in the air, spliced open and dripping. Chris grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close, thrusting his cock into her well-lubricated cunt. Tamara moaned and threw her hands out in front of her on the bedspread, clutching at the fabric. She turned her head to one side as he thrust into her. He could see the top of her head in the mirror, her sandy hair tousled with her earlier thrashing. He saw the stripes on his work shirt, the dark split of his tie, the hungry look and his face, the movement of his torso as he fucked her. God, she was so wet.

 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Tamara had started to moan rhythmically with each thrust. Christ knew he would peak soon with that kind of encouragement. She slid her right arm down the bedspread and under her body, curling up slightly so her fingers could reach her clit. Chris knew he’d been dragging her swollen goodness against the textured fabric and that he was bumping her deliciously against the edge of the bed. Tamara was working herself hard, getting close to a second coming. He upped the ante, increasing the speed of his thrusts; angling his cock up deep and high; concentrating on the long slip of her skin from his head to his crotch. One. Two Three. Tamara arched her back and almost screamed in release. Chris felt himself explode within her, his cum flowing out around the edges of her cunt, joining the cream that already spilled out onto her thighs. He froze for a moment pressed all the way into her; feeling the waves of pleasure moving up and around him; his hands pulling her hips tight against him. He rode her a few more undulating pulses before folding over her and resting his chest against her back. They were both panting heavily. Chris reached up and pulled Tamara’s hair away from her face, so he could see the curve of her neck and whisper into her ear.

 

“Feel better?”

 

His only answer was a sort of humming moan.

 

“I guess I better go order that pizza.”