And while he could have been upset about all the time wasted where he’d been just flailing about, in fact he was feeling elated — not to mention really turned on. With his face buried in her sex, covered in her juices, he was swathed in her aroma, and eager to learn how to please. His solid erection jutted forth, stretching the smooth black fibre. She’d told him that she often wanted long, gentle sessions, where she could be near orgasm for hours without tipping over the edge, and he wanted to try that. She said that sometimes, she wanted to reach orgasm quickly, before she was too sore or worn out, and he wanted to try that. He wanted to hear “Oh Jesus yes that’s the one” again, when he was giving her what she needed.
He wanted to practice with her. A lot.
Almost as if she could hear his thoughts, Emma said. “Now, make me come. I’ll guide you through it.” And she did — or, at least, she tried to. She got him positioned correctly, and adjusted his speed and pressure as required. Jack tried to pay attention to her breath and the twitching of her abdomen for clues, but he also knew that wouldn’t tell him much. She gave him a few more directions, until she breathed, “There. Like that. Keep going.” And he did his best to do exactly that, until she bucked under him, letting out a long moan through gritted teeth: “Nnnnnnnnnngggggghhhhh”.
After a minute, she untangled herself, releasing him. He knelt upright and stretched his back and neck, while his wife gave a dreamy sigh.
She levered herself up, and clawed the collapsed turban from her head. She wrapped the bath towel around her body again.
“That was perfect. But remember that sometimes I just want ‘nice and pleasant’ instead, so remember how to do that, too.” She leaned forward to kiss him. “Now, you need to finish the vacuuming. Oh,” she added as she got up. “I want you to put the table here, and you only need a single place-setting, here. I’ll be having dinner, and you’ll be my waiter. You’ll be having your pizza once we’re all finished. Now, I have to go finish getting ready. You should hurry — it’s almost seven o’clock. Don’t forget to put the oven on!”
She exited the room majestically, fully in control, but relented as she reached the stairs, and looked back in, a loving, grateful smile on her face. “It was really good. Really, really good. Thank you.”
Erection still straining, Jack looked at the clock. Five to seven. He sighed theatrically. Onwards.
***
The next half an hour passed in something of a blur. Jack finished the hoovering, got the table positioned where Emma wanted it — why she wanted it there, near the kitchen with her facing the kitchen doorway, he had no idea, but he’d now learned that there would be some nefarious purpose behind it, and he was intrigued to discover what that would be — and the table laid out accordingly. As he set things up, he was thinking through all she’d told him, trying to commit it to memory. Definitely more practice needed, he thought with a grin. He’d expected his erection to subside as he finished sorting the room out, but his thoughts kept returning to her writhing beneath him, or to her calm, imperious voice as she instructed him on how to pleasure her, as she coolly sipped her wine. Both turned him on immensely.
It was seven-twenty-five when Emma came down again. She was dressed in a short, gold, strapless dress that flared at the skirt, stopping just above mid-thigh, with matching high-heeled strappy shoes. Her hair was up, in a careless twist that looked both casual and elegant, and which had probably taken forever to achieve. She had accessorised with the gold chain and earrings set that he had bought her for their last anniversary; hearts dangled from each. She held a small, gold clutch purse in one hand that looked quite full, and her laptop in the other. Her make-up was understated, just highlighting her features.
He knew that Emma was self-conscious about her looks, but Jack never understood why. He thought she was beautiful, and tonight proved it. She looked radiant.
“Wow”, Jack said.
“You like it?” Emma asked, beaming at him. She gave a twirl; the dress wasn’t skin-tight, but as she moved, it shifted on her contours, revealing her figure in a series of sensual, ever-changing hints.
“You look amazing,” he said. “Absolutely beautiful.”
Her eyes flashed with delight. “Well, in that case, I might wear it again, if it survives the night.”
If it what? Jack wondered what else she had planned.
Emma had turned her attention to the room, taking in the single place setting at the table, with the napkin, the candle burning in a tall candlestick holder, and dimmed lighting coming from lamps around the room rather than from the harsh, overhead lights. “You’ve done a great job setting everything up,” she said, approvingly as she placed her purse and laptop on the table. She waved a finger in the air: “The background music is a particularly nice touch. Very good.” On a whim, Jack had quickly googled some string quartet playlists. She put her arms around his waist, kissed him, and gave him a wicked grin.”I am pleased, so I shall obviously have to reward you.” She leaned in and kissed him, closing her eyes. He did the same, then felt her hands slide down onto his buttocks. One hand stayed there and squeezed, while the other slid round to the front, to cup his testicles for a moment. Then she released him. “Later, of course.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Would Madame like to take her seat?” he asked, pulling the chair back.
“Why, Madame would, thank you!” Jack pushed the chair into place as she sat.
“And would Madame like her pizza in the over?”
“Madame would, thank you.”
In the kitchen, Jack took the oven-ready pizza from its cardboard package and started attacking the shrink-wrap. He noticed that he was in full view of Emma, as she sat at the repositioned table. She was leaning her chin on her interlaced hands, elbows on the table, watching him with a contented (and perhaps slightly smug) smile. Evidently all part of her plan to ogle him while he carried out the assigned activities. That was all right with him; Jack was quite enjoying being objectified by his wife.
He’d just got the pizza onto the baking tray when he heard the sounds of what appeared to be an amazingly poorly-timed incoming video call from the living room. Who on earth would be calling now, and without warning? He turned his head in surprise when he heard Emma talking.
“Hey, how are you?” Emma said.
She’s accepted the call, he thought. Now? In the middle of all this?
“I’m good, and you?” A woman said. She sounded familiar. Then Jack realised it was Rebecca.
“Doing pretty well. You look great!”
“Thank you,” Rebecca said. “You look fabulous, honey!”
Emma smiled, pleased. “You think so?” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial stage whisper. “Jack likes it.” She flashed a glance in Jack’s direction, as he stood, baking tray in hand, and mouth open in surprise at this conversation even taking place.
Why would Rebecca be calling tonight, of all nights? Surely she’d remembered their plans for this evening? Emma had been discussing them with her often enough during the week.