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Burnt Dinners? Worth It.

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After a bad day at the office, a wife knows how to make it all better...
"Fucking bastards", Devon muttered under his breath as he passed by the conference room. "My report wasn't up to par? I bet they couldn't do half as well in twice the time!"

While he stormed out of the office, he loosened his tie and ran his fingers through his thick, black hair; giving himself a disheveled, grumpy appearance. In the elevator going down to the lobby, everyone avoided him since the anger radiating off of him was palpable. His fury was almost tangible and you could see it in his dark gray, normally blue, eyes. Striding quickly through the lobby to the parking garage, his anger didn't subside. He had had an abnormally stressful week, and today was just the icing on his rage cake.

As he slid into the sleek, leather interior of his Audi A4, he hit his head on the top of his car.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" he exclaimed, practically exploding from the newest addition of his crappy day.

Grumbling and cursing, he sat down and started his car. Taking a deep breath, he began to back out of his space and almost got run into by an SUV going way too fast for a parking garage.

"Seriously?! Can this day get any worse?" Devon griped as he slammed on the brakes.

As luck, or lack thereof, would have it, it did get worse. There was an accident on the highway and it took him two and a half hours to get home instead of his usual thirty minutes.

Finally reaching his quaint ranch-style house, he exited his vehicle, slamming the door hard behind him. He began to walk towards his house when he heard a ripping sound from behind him. With a feeling of dread, he slowly turned around to find that he had shut his jacket in the door and the sleeve had been completely ripped off. He stared at his coat for a minute, dumbfounded, then ran his palms over his face. Devon could almost feel the wear and tear of this week on his face as he rubbed at his eyes. With a sigh of resignation, he dropped the rest of his torn jacket and slumped to the front door. All traces of his anger gone, now replaced with a deep feeling of melancholy.

Entering his house, he was greeted with the spicy smell of sandalwood and something delicious cooking.

"Sweetheart, I'm home", he called out while removing his tie completely.

"Oh hi love!" his sweet wife of five years replied.

Just hearing her voice lifted his spirits a bit. His wife, Tara, was the most darling woman he had ever known. Besides being sweeter than sugar covered in honey, she was stunningly beautiful. Standing at 5'7, she had curves in all the right places and long, wavy auburn hair. Her emerald eyes seemed to be able to see right through him, so he got away with nothing . Ever.

He made his way towards the kitchen where he could hear her softly humming a random eighties tune. He smiled, noting she was in just panties and a t-shirt. She turned around with a beaming smile as he slipped his arms around her.

"Hungry Devon?" she inquired of him.

"Not really. I had a shit day at work", he replied glumly, burying his face in her neck.

Lifting his chin so she could look at his face, her smile dimmed as she read the turmoil and stress in his eyes.

"Oh love, I'm sorry. Can I help?" she asked.

Devon shook his head no and walked over to a chair against the wall. Sitting down hard with a sigh, he ran his fingers through his already ruffled hair. As Tara looked at her husband, so down and morose, an idea popped into her head.

Making her way towards him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she knelt before him and rested her hands on his knees.

"I think I can help you get rid of some of that stress baby", she purred at him.

Devon's head popped up as her hands made their way up his thighs. Groaning and leaning his head back as he realized what she was doing, he forward on the chair, allowing his wife to take care of him.

Tara could see his cock throbbing through his slacks and began rubbing his growing erection, delighting in his satisfied growls. Swiftly undoing his pants, she reached in and grasped his thick member while still pulling his pants lower. As his impressive cock sprung free, she immediately, greedily sucked his dick into her mouth. Running her tongue along the ridge as she fondled his balls, she could hear his deep moans. Spurred on by his excitement, she began bobbing her head up and down his shaft, deep throating his length and then back up to flick her tongue across his head. Using her soft hands and talented mouth, she kept making love to his dick. Tasting the salty sweetness of his precum drove her wild, so she sucked harder to get more of the tasty reward.

All the stress from the week evacuated Devon's mind as his wife pleasured him. He grasped her hair, wrapping it around his hand as he began to push his hips towards her. Her throaty moans of pleasure vibrated around his cock. The sensations were turning his brain to mush, the aesthetic pleasure of watching her suck his cock deep into her mouth pushed him over the edge.

"ARGH! Fuck!!" Devon cried out as thick, creamy ropes of his cum shot down Tara's throat.

He convulsed in pure bliss as Tara swallowed every drop, loving his taste, milking his cock until his balls were depleted.

As Devon's breathing became steady, he opened his eyes and chuckled at the playful look in his wife's eyes.

"Alright you naughty minx", he growled, "your turn...".

Tara giggled as Devon chased her up to their bedroom, where they stayed until dinner was well past 'burnt to a crisp'.

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