Celeste lay on her back. A thin sheen of perspiration covered her soft, curvy body and she was breathing very heavily.

I looked into her eyes and saw intense gratitude for the world-class fucking I had just given her. I kissed her deeply. Then I rolled off her so she could get up and shower. She had a plane to catch.

But my wife wasn't through with me yet. She covered me with her body, kissing me passionately, with lots of tongue, then kissed her way down to my half-stiff cock. She licked all her vaginal juices off its pink head, then bathed the entire seven inches in her sweet saliva. By that time, I was fully stiff and moaning out my love for the only woman I would ever love, my sweet wife, Celeste.

Remembering that she had a plane to catch, Celeste used all the tricks she had learned during our three-year marriage. She knew that fingers in my bottom always added to my excitement. And she knew that attention to the rim of my pink mushroom excited me and stirred my manly juices to a boil.

Celeste seemed extremely pleased with herself when she was able to make me arch my back and fill her mouth with my sweet cum. She liked being in charge at home as much as she liked being in charge at her job. I usually liked her being in charge too; especially when it involved my ball-draining orgasms.

The time for action had arrived. Celeste gave me one more sweet, cum-laced, tonguey kiss, then scooted off to take her shower. I loved watching her pretty bottom wiggle as she hurried into the bathroom. I also loved seeing my cum slithering down the insides of her thighs.

Mondays were so sad in a way. They involved a huge transition for me. I went from loving, weekend husband, taking care of all my working wife's intense needs, to�.well, something else. Something good, but very different.

Celeste and I had been married for three years. At 36, she was ten years older than I. Celeste was stunningly beautiful and hugely successful, so it surprised everyone when, at 33, she married her 23-year-old assistant, only one year out of college. I'm an attractive man, but not in the traditional sense. More "pretty" than macho. But I was apparently everything Celeste wanted. She's gone every week, from Monday morning to late Friday or early Saturday. And when she's home, she wants to do the things she loves. I take care of all her household errands during the week and all her physical needs every weekend. Celeste adores sex and I'm very good at it. I'm loving and affectionate and seem to have an inexhaustible supply of erections and thick, gooey cum. And on weekends, I give Celeste my complete devotion.

It's an odd arrangement, but it works for us.

That Monday, Celeste was off to the other coast to solve some problem or other, and wouldn't be back until she got off the redeye on Saturday morning. I had a long list of things I needed to do for her, but a whole week to do them. I would miss her. Thank goodness I had my "diversions."

When we're together, Celeste really does love me, I'm 100 sure of that. When geography separates us, I'm not sure how much she even thinks of me. She's always so busy. We rarely even call each other during the week.

Celeste finished her shower and I watched her as she re-entered our bedroom. What a body she has! Lush, full titties, with huge, brown nipples. A tiny waist with flaring hips. A bottom to die for.

I was so envious.

I sat up in bed as Celeste sat at her vanity and expertly applied her make-up. Gorgeous eyes. Bee-stung lips. I was a lucky man.

She gave me little glances and smiles and even made a kissy-face at me. My hard-on was back when Celeste rolled on her stockings and hooked them to her lacy garter belt. She hooked her bra in front, then turned it around and encased her big puppies in it. She stepped into her four-inch pumps. Oh, my. I was stiff and panting.

Celeste looked my way, then at the clock. "We have 12 minutes before I have to put my panties and dress on. Are you up for one more goodbye? 'Back there?'" she asked.

Was I? Wow. Celeste leaned over, putting her hands flat on her vanity, offering her perfect ass to me. I grabbed some cold cream from her things, slathered two fingers with it, then eased them into her ass. I love when she whimpers. I prepared my path for about a minute or so, then replaced my fingers with my hard cock. Celeste squealed so girlishly. I love when I have her, skewered and helpless like that. The inside of her bottom was warm and friendly to my cock (a frequent visitor), gripping and massaging it the ways I adored. I reached around Celeste's right hip and found her clitoris. It was erect and hot. I massaged it unmercifully as I fucked her perfect ass. She squealed out my name, "Robbie ! You beautiful man! My perfect fucker! I love you, Robbie!"

And then she came, shuddering so violently that I could barely hold my place. I held on through her spasms, then began my own, groaning loudly as I flooded Celeste's bottom with a goodbye lotion that she could feel all morning on the plane.

We kissed again, exchanging promises of love and devotion. But then it was time. Celeste finished dressing (including an anally placed Tampon to contain my souvenir for her). I slid on a sweatshirt and shorts, got her briefcase and luggage and took them to the waiting limo driver. Celeste and I kissed hungrily, then she got into the limo and left my life for the week.

I did too. My male life, that is.

Vote for this story:

Please rate this story:

You need to log in to be able to post a message.