Suspended Desire

We’d allowed ourselves to fall into a predictable rhythm, sixteen years of intertwined intimacy slowly morphing into a detached coexistence. It happened gradually, insidiously, a quiet erosion of passion beneath the surface of our shared life. I don’t know precisely when it began, but I recall a particular drive where she introduced a playful, almost perverse game. Every time we crossed a bridge, she would unbuckle my seatbelt, unzip my pants, and tease my cock with her tongue. The longer the span, the more intense her teasing became, culminating in her sucking me with fervent urgency. We’d establish a silent signal – a downward glance from her eyes – to indicate when she’d reached the other side. She didn’t seem to care about my driving speed, actually, I believe she derived even greater pleasure from my discomfort. Slowly, I’d pump her determined mouth, keeping a careful watch on the road, as she continued to tease, savoring the sensation. Her lips and tongue possessed an extraordinary dexterity, yet it was her desire to please me that truly resonated within my core. Those were the golden days, lost to time, replaced by the dull ache of a once-vibrant connection. Now, I rarely sought out routes that included bridges. The memory itself had become a source of melancholy rather than desire.

Arriving home early this afternoon, fueled by an unexpected surge of hope, I scanned the house. “Baby, are you here?” I called out, my voice tinged with a desperate longing. Silence. It was an overly optimistic assumption to think she might be home. As the primary breadwinner, I’d foolishly believed she’d shower me with affection, a notion that had backfired spectacularly. My absences had become too frequent, leaving her increasingly isolated. There was no logical reason for her to be home early. Deep within my heart, I knew she yearned for the intensity of our past, the all-consuming connection we’d once shared. To be honest, I’d let my ego get the better of me, prioritizing my own needs and neglecting her desires. Placing myself first too many times had taken its toll on our shared intimacy, transforming us into unfamiliar roommates, existing side-by-side but not truly living together.

Driven by a desperate need to reclaim what we’d lost, I immediately searched the hallway for a clue. There, lying on the floor, was one of her silky sky-blue thongs, complete with its delicate lace edging. It must have slipped from her grasp while carrying our dirty laundry to the laundry room earlier that morning. The laundry had become a tedious chore, something I’d been neglecting for far too long. Picking up the thongs, I recognized their distinctive design – they were the ones she’d given me for her birthday. They accentuated her perfectly curved posterior, a sight that sent shivers of desire down my spine. She seemed to favor wearing them more and more lately, and the thought of her in those panties ignited a primal heat within me. I suspected she knew exactly what she was doing, intentionally provoking my longing. Turning my head left, then right, ensuring no one was watching, I inhaled deeply, savoring her intoxicating scent. The aroma, rich and sensual, immediately stirred my senses, a potent reminder of the pleasure she brought. Spreading my stance into a weightlifter’s power position, I took another deep breath, feeling a surge of strength course through my veins. Don’t misunderstand me; I work out regularly, but I'm not one of those muscle-bound behemoths. Nevertheless, her scent ignited a fire within me, making me feel as if I could conquer anything. Forgetting the laundry entirely, I made my way towards the shower, determined to immerse myself in her essence. Adjusting the water temperature to a stimulating hotness, I stepped into the steam-filled room, still clutching one of her thongs. “Sniiiiiiiffffff.” Each inhalation of her intoxicating fragrance sent shivers of anticipation through my body. The conditioner clinging to the fabric had become a substitute for her passionate embrace. Closing my eyes and inhaling deeply, while simultaneously pumping my firm grip, brought back a flood of memories – the bridges, the teasing, the exquisite pleasure. I intentionally restrained myself from reaching the point of climax, longing to reconnect with her heart and soul in the near future.

Swiftly, I completed the laundry, then gathered the clutter scattered throughout the living area, an accumulation of neglect that we’d both ignored for far too long. Now, it was time to prepare dinner. We rarely considered ourselves culinary experts, so it was no surprise that she preferred veggie pizza. I could handle that. Time was of the essence, and I realized I’d gotten lost in reminiscing in the shower for an uncomfortably long period. That was another area that needed immediate attention – my tendency to lose myself in the past without considering the present. Quickly, I downloaded “Bridges of Madison County” and configured it to begin playing automatically on all our screens at 9 PM. I didn’t recall the plot, but I remembered it was a romance centered around bridges. It was a long shot, but I was determined to create the right atmosphere. I would simply be in the same room as her at 9 PM, regardless of where she might be. As always, she was late again. But this evening, things were going to be different… perhaps… hopefully.

The door opened, revealing her engrossed in a phone conversation. “What’s that I smell, Darling?” she asked, her attention seemingly more focused on the person on the other end of the line than the dinner I was preparing. She appeared exhausted, carrying the weight of the day on her shoulders. We had allowed that creep into our marriage, transforming our home into an escape from reality rather than a sanctuary of renewal. Even tired, her well-proportioned legs still aroused my senses. I quickly adjusted my partially erect state, momentarily forgetting to wash my hands, as I continued assembling our pizza.

Gathering my composure and locking eyes with her, I offered a genuine smile. “I thought you’d like your favorite tonight, Baby.” Even now, the lingering scent of her intoxicating fragrance was overpowering the aroma of the baking pizza.

Her gaze swept across the countertop, taking in the scene before her. “It’s been a long time since you made us anything in the kitchen.”

With newfound confidence, I responded, “I’m capable of far more than just earning us a living, Babe.”

“Uh huh, so you’ve said.”

It was clear that more than just laundry and pizza would be required to rekindle the desire she clearly still harbored for us. Taking a deep breath, I continued to cater to her needs, maintaining a respectful distance while not appearing overly eager. She had endured a long day, and I could sense her appreciation for being served in ways I had long neglected. You could tell she genuinely valued my attention.

After a thorough shower, I retreated to our bedroom, where she followed shortly after. It was still early, around 8 PM. Then I waited, patiently. The television remained on quietly in the background, just as I anticipated. She seemed content to let it play, her attention divided between the show and her constant texting with her friends. It was a familiar pattern, one that had become increasingly prevalent in our lives. At 9 PM, the movie “Bridges of Madison County” began playing, as planned. Initially, she didn’t even notice, but gradually, her gaze drifted towards the screen. I remained still on the bed, maintaining a comfortable distance, observing her reactions. My eyes were barely open, just enough to maintain visual contact. My penis was hard, consumed by memories of the bridges we’d crossed in our past. Placing her phone down on the stand beside our bed, she began to pay more attention to the film. I held my breath, savoring the anticipation. She was fully immersed in the story now, her lips moving slightly as she silently licked her tongue across her teeth. She glanced over at me to ensure I wasn’t watching her, and for a moment, I held my breath. Then, inhaling deeply, I moved closer, positioning myself so I could observe her face clearly through my partially closed eyelids. She was completely absorbed in the film, her body arching slightly as she caressed her long, neglected breasts. I wanted to look at her fondling herself, but knew that doing so would only serve to distract her.

Then it began. Just as I had hoped, she succumbed to her desires. With her index and middle fingers of her left hand, she first touched her lips. Her tongue began to gently tease her stiffening fingers. My penis was rock hard and pulsing, eager for the pleasure to come. I could have opened my eyes fully now, and she wouldn’t have noticed. She kept her fingers erect and still as she wrapped her lips around them, sucking them in deeply. Her face drew in, her cheeks pulling inward as she used her tongue and lips to work her fingers over lovingly.

It was now or never. Time to embrace the connection we had lost. Taking a deep breath, I spoke softly, yet resolutely, “Why just have two fingers when you can have the real thing?” Her eyes met mine, a silent acknowledgment of the memories we shared. Our gazes locked, a silent invitation to return to the intimacy we once enjoyed. I slowly slid the sheets down, revealing my hard cock to her, a stark contrast to the softness of the bedding. The back of my two index and middle fingers framed my needing nuts, lifting them to show her their fullness. My thumbs pushed the base of my erection pointing it high. Her eyes locked on my steel shaft, transfixed by its power. Moving it slowly down and up, and left to right, I presented it to her. Without hesitation, she moved her hands to my firm buttocks, eager to experience the pleasure she craved. Usually, she looks up at me with adoration, but we had both neglected our mutual needs for so long. Her eyes didn’t move from my rigid shaft. Her lips parted. Knowing we both needed this special time together, we began. She likes it when I hold her head still and use her mouth for my pleasure as a man. She kept still as I pushed in slightly. Her lips parted easily. Ohhhh, it felt good – to be so exposed and vulnerable like this with her again. Slowly I pushed in – then slowly I pulled out, repeatedly, over and over, never removing my tip from inside her lips. We are beautiful together like this. Both were giving and receiving like its supposed to be. Both her middle fingers moved to my most private area, where so many of my pleasure nerves come together. It’s a real treat when she teases me that way – All the while sucking me. Gulping while trying to last, I asked her, “Do you want to feel the power you create in me?” She nodded slightly affirmatively, too preoccupied to speak. She loves it when I use her mouth for my pleasure as a man. Arcing my pelvis forward while holding her head firmly with both my hands, I immediately exploded. Reflexively I oscillated her head firmly up and down over my exploding cock. Panting, and looking down it appeared she was enjoying it even more than me! Finally, we finished. I held her head close, stroking her hair, while she cleaned my penis lovingly. Between gasps, I managed to utter quietly, “Oh Baby, I love you so much.” It was the beginning of one again.

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