Fred’s weight bore down on Darla, his cock driving into her hard and fast, the mattress squeaking under every sloppy thrust. His breath was hot and broken in her ear, each gasp turning into rough, guttural grunts.

“Fuck—ughhhh—yes.” His body locked up, hips slamming deep. A groan ripped from his chest as he jerked hard, grinding against Darla while his release pumped out in twitching pulses, filling her. Fred shuddered through it, moaning loudly until the last spasm drained him, then he collapsed, sweating against her.

After a few breaths, he rolled away with a long sigh, grinning like a man who’d conquered the world. “Damn, that was amazing,” he muttered, kissing her cheek before heading for the bathroom.

Darla lay flat on her back, thighs damp and sticky, her body throbbing with an ache that hadn’t been satisfied. She forced a faint smile when he glanced back, though her thoughts burned sharp. Amazing. Yeah. For you. Always for you.

The shower roared to life. She listened to him humming, cheerful and light under the warm stream of water, like nothing could be better. By the time he stepped out—clean-shaven, tie straight, shoes polished—her chest was tight with bitterness.

“I gotta get to work. You’re amazing, babe. Love you,” he said, leaning down to peck her temple.

“Love you too,” she whispered, lips barely moving.

The door clicked shut. Silence.

Darla finally dragged herself out of bed to get ready for work. She should’ve been happy — a young bride, newly married to the man she adored. Instead, her body throbbed, restless and unsatisfied.

She turned the shower back on and stepped into the steam. Hot water ran over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, rinsing away Fred’s release — but the emptiness only grew sharper.

Her nipples hardened under the stream of warm water, tingling, her pussy swollen and aching. Bracing one hand to the tile, she let the other roam her body, over her breasts, down her belly, until it found her clit. She rubbed fast, desperate, hips rolling into her hand. She could still feel Fred’s release leaking from her, and it only drove her harder.

The climax hit suddenly, tearing a cry from her lips. Her body jolted, thighs trembling, forehead pressed to the tile as waves of pleasure ripped through her until she sagged, weak and shuddering, water pounding over her back.

Relief came, but so did guilt. Darla loved Fred, but something had to change.

She straightened slowly, towelled off, and dressed neatly for work. A conservative blouse, skirt, hair pinned back, the picture of a proper young wife. But beneath the tidy shell, her body still hummed with frustration.

Darla sat in the break room, her lunch untouched in front of her. She poked at the egg salad sandwich but barely tasted it. Sex isn’t supposed to feel like this, she thought miserably. I love Fred, but why does it always leave me empty? What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with us?

“Mind if I sit here, sugar?”

She looked up to see Margie balancing her tray, smiling easily. Older, maybe fifty, Margie had wide hips, full breasts, and the kind of beauty that didn’t fade with age. Divorced for years, she carried herself with the confidence of a woman who knew exactly who she was. She’d become a good friend at work — easy to talk to, almost motherly. Darla admired her, maybe even looked up to her.

“Of course,” Darla said quickly, pushing her bag aside.

Margie always called people sugar—everyone from the receptionist to the VP—and somehow it worked for her. Instead of sounding fake, it felt warm, like a hug tucked into a word.

They discussed the usual office chatter — the new manager, the broken copier, weekend plans. Then Margie tilted her head with a sly grin.

“So, how’s married life treating you, Darla?”

Darla smiled, a little shy. “It’s good, thank you.”

“Good?” Margie smirked. “Sugar, I thought you’d be glowing — getting laid all over the house, Fred devouring that gorgeous body of yours every chance he gets.”

Darla’s face flamed. She shook her head quickly, staring down at her plate. “No… not exactly.”

Margie raised a brow. “What do you mean? That doesn’t sound good.”

Darla hesitated, fumbling with her napkin. “It’s… nothing.”

“Mm-hm.” Margie leaned in, her voice playful but pointed. “That blush says otherwise. Out with it.”

Darla shifted uncomfortably. “Fred and I… we were each other’s firsts. We waited until marriage.” She gave a nervous laugh, still not meeting Margie’s eyes. “I thought it would get better once we did it, but…”

“But?” Margie pressed, smirking gently.

Darla exhaled, cheeks burning. “It hasn’t. We…we don’t know what we’re doing.” She paused, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even, you know… cum most of the time.”

Margie set her fork down, shaking her head softly. “Oh, sugar. That’s rough. But don’t you dare think you’re the only one. My first boyfriend came before he even got it in. My second wasn’t much better.”

Darla blinked, startled. “… really?”

“Really,” Margie said with a chuckle. “By the time I finally had good sex, I thought angels were singing. You’re not alone, sugar — you’re just new. And new can be fixed.”

Darla bit her lip. “Fixed… how?”

Margie’s smile widened. “You need to learn. Someone who can show you both a few tricks, a teacher.”

Darla’s heart thumped. “A teacher?”

Margie leaned back, grinning. “Sugar, great sex doesn’t just happen. You’ve got to learn it, same as anything else.”

Darla’s eyes widened. “You really think so? I thought it was supposed to just…be natural.”

Margie chuckled, shaking her head. “Mm-mm. No, honey. It takes practice. And hell, I could be that teacher if you want. Ask your husband, see how he feels about it. Sometimes all it takes is a little guidance — maybe I can show you two a few things.”

The lunch bell rang, breaking the moment. Both women gathered their trays.

“Thanks for… sharing all that,” Darla said softly, though her voice carried a nervous edge. “Maybe we can… talk more tomorrow?”

Margie squeezed her hand warmly. “Of course, sugar. Anytime.”

That night, Darla and Fred had their usual quickie. A few thrusts, a groan, and Fred emptied inside her before collapsing onto his back with a satisfied sigh, grinning at the ceiling.

“God, Darla, you’re amazing,” he murmured, kissing her shoulder.

She curled into him, her hand resting on his chest as his breathing slowed. She loved his warmth, the way he always pulled her close afterward. She really did love him.

But her own body still throbbed, unfulfilled. Her thighs were sticky, her pussy aching, the edge of release just out of reach.

Darla kissing his arm softly, and whispered, “I love being close to you. I love you.”

The words were true — but behind them, her nerves fluttered. It had to be now if she was ever going to say something.

Fred turned his head, catching the flicker in her eyes. “I sense a but.”

Her stomach tightened. “No… It’s nothing, babe.”

“Babe,” he said softly, brushing her hair back, “say it.”

She hesitated, twisting the sheet in her hands. Talking about sex always made them uncomfortable, but she forced herself to say it. “It’s just… I don’t want you to think I’m unhappy. Because I’m not. I love what we have. But sometimes… I want more.”

Fred frowned. “More?”

Her voice trembled. “More in bed. To try things. To explore. I don’t always finish, Fred. I want us to figure that out together.”

He rubbed his face. “And how the hell are we supposed to do that?”

Darla swallowed hard. “Margie—my friend at work—said maybe we need a teacher. Someone to guide us.”

Fred froze, staring at her. “A teacher? You told her about us?” His voice sharpened. “So what—she’s supposed to join us in bed? That’s what you want?”

Darla sat up quickly, clutching the sheet to her chest. “No! That’s not what I meant. She wouldn’t join us—she’d just show us. I don’t know teach…That’s all.”

Fred let out a bitter laugh. “That’s insane. I don’t need some old woman telling me how to fuck my wife.”

Her eyes stung, tears brimming. “I just want more for us, Fred. I love you. I want us to be great.”

But he was already swinging his legs out of bed, yanking on his boxers. “Well, maybe you should sleep alone tonight, then. I think we’re already great.”

A minute later, the couch groaned under his weight.

Darla curled into herself, staring at the empty pillow beside her.

The next morning, Darla hunched over her coffee, staring into the steam. Margie slid into the chair across from her, tray in hand, with her usual easy smile.

“Morning, sugar. You look wrecked.”

Darla sighed. “I tried talking to Fred last night. He got defensive… ended up on the couch.”

Margie clicked her tongue. “You can’t just tell him he sucks in bed, sugar — you gotta warm him up.”

Darla frowned into her coffee. “Warm him up how? He barely let me finish my sentence before he got mad.”

Margie smirked, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Oh sugar, give the man a blowjob, and he’ll give in to just about anything.”

Darla nearly choked. “What? Margie, I’ve never—”

“Exactly,” Margie smirked. “That’s why it’ll work. First time you get on your knees and wrap those lips around his cock, he’ll lose his damn mind.”

Darla’s cheeks flamed. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“Easy,” Margie said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Use that pretty little mouth and please your man. Start slow — kiss the tip like you’ve been craving it, then take him in. Use your tongue, use spit, don’t hold back. Stroke the base while you suck. And moan around it. Men eat that up.”

Darla whispered, horrified and fascinated, “And when he… you know…”

“When he cums?” Margie’s grin turned wicked. “That’s the best part. Pull off, stroke him fast, and let him finish all over you. Tits, mouth, face — doesn’t matter. Just smile like you wanted it. He’ll think you’re the hottest thing alive.”

Darla shook her head, blushing furiously. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” Margie said firmly, squeezing her hand. “And when you do, sugar, look him in the eye and tell him, Margie taught me. That’s how you seal the deal.”

The words burned through her, hot and dangerous. All afternoon, Darla couldn’t stop thinking about it. Use that pretty little mouth. Get on your knees. Wrap your lips around his cock. Make him lose his mind.

On the train ride home, Darla’s body hummed the whole way. By the time she walked through the door, her panties were damp, her chest tight with nerves. The thought of tasting him, watching her husband come undone, had her squirming.

She busied herself with dinner, chopping vegetables and stirring the sauce, anything to keep her hands moving, to burn off the restless energy.

The front door opened. Fred kissed her cheek lightly and set his bag on the counter. His smile was small, the mood still a little cool from their spat the night before.

Darla picked up the pickle jar and held it out with a grin. “Here. Rescue me. I’ve been at war with this thing all afternoon.”

Fred raised a brow, twisted the lid off easily, and smirked.

She gasped dramatically. “Mmm. Strong, handsome, and handy. Guess I really did marry well.”

He chuckled. “So I’m just your jar-opener now?”

She slid closer, brushing her hip against his. “Jar-opener, husband, lover… You do it all, babe.”

His hand slipped to her waist, tugging her in. “And which one’s your favourite?”

Her lips brushed his ear, her voice soft but charged. “The one that makes me wet.”

Fred groaned, smiling at Darla. “You’re so bad.”

“Mmm,” she teased, kissing him slowly, then deeper. Her cheeks warmed, but her whisper was steady. “You love it.”

“I love you,” he murmured against her lips.

Her chest loosened. “I love you too.”

Darla pressed closer, grinding her hips until she felt him — the thick, solid bulge straining against his pants. His cock twitched against her belly, and she smiled, slow and wicked. “Mmm… looks like you’re not mad at me anymore.”

Fred’s breath caught, his eyes dark. “God, Darla…”

She bit her lip, hesitating just a second before whispering, “I love my husband… and his big, hard cock.”

Fred froze, then broke into a stunned laugh, his grin wide. “Darla! What’s gotten into you?”

She hid her face in his chest, laughing nervously, heat flooding her cheeks. “Can’t I want my husband?”

“Yes, you can,” he groaned, hugging her tighter. “You’re driving me crazy.”

She tugged at his shirt, her voice low, playful, and sure. “Then don’t make me wait. Take me to bed. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

His mouth crushed onto hers, love and laughter melting into heat as they stumbled toward the bedroom.

Darla’s pulse thundered. Tonight, her husband was in for a surprise he’d never forget.

Dinner could wait!

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other on the way to the bedroom — kissing, laughing, bumping into walls like teenagers. Fred’s hands slid under her shirt; Darla tugged at his belt, shedding clothes in a trail behind them.

By the time they tumbled onto the bed, Fred was already naked, his cock thick and throbbing. Darla slipped out of her bra, her tits spilling free as she climbed over him, heat rising to her cheeks when she saw how hard he was for her.

“Lay back, babe,” she murmured, her voice low but sure. “I want to try something.”

Fred frowned, half-protesting as he propped himself on his elbows. “Darla—”

She kissed him softly, lingering. “Please. Babe, let me.”

That did it. With a groan, Fred sank back against the pillows, still watching her closely.

Darla slid down between his legs, her pulse racing, nerves sparking with excitement. She wrapped her fingers around his thick cock — hot, heavy, twitching in her hand — and gave him a shy smile.

Fred’s breath hitched, his eyes going wide. “Darla… what are you doing?”

Her lip caught between her teeth. She stroked Fred’s cock once, slow and deliberate, before meeting his gaze.

“Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Her lips pressed to the tip, then opened, slowly sliding him into her mouth.

Fred’s head dropped back, a guttural sound tearing out of him. “Ohhh God… babe—”

Darla’s nerves dissolved into pure hunger. She stroked the base of Fred’s throbbing cock with one hand, cupped his balls with the other, her spit dripping down his shaft as she bobbed deeper. Her tongue swirled, flicked, teased. She moaned around him, sloppy and eager, every wet sound making him buck against her mouth.

Fred gripped the sheets, gasping. “I can’t believe you’re ohhh… Darla, fuuuck.”

She pulled off, pumping his shaft fast, her lips glistening. “You like it, babe?”

His voice cracked. “Like it? Oh god, yes. Don’t stop.”

She swallowed him again, cheeks hollowing as she sucked harder, stroking in rhythm. His thighs trembled, his voice ragged.

“Darla—I’m gonna—”

She let him slip free with a wet pop, stroking him quickly, eyes burning into his. “Cum for me, babe. Cum all over me.”

Fred’s whole body jerked. “Ohhh fuuuck—Darla!”

The first hot spurt shot across her tits, splattering between them. She gasped, grinning, pumping faster. “Yes—give me all of it.”

Thick ropes painted her breasts, dripping down between them, another burst streaking her neck. Darla milked him with both hands until he collapsed against the pillows, shaking and dazed.

Darla sat back on her heels, chest glistening with his cum. She rubbed her fingers through the sticky mess and, blushing, brought one to her lips. She licked it clean with a shy little smile. “Oh my god… I loved watching you cum.”

Fred stared at her, still breathless, his chest rising hard. “Babe… what the hell got into you? That was insane.”

She leaned forward, kissing his chest softly. “Babe… I’m glad you liked it.”

He laughed weakly, still reeling. “Liked it? That was… fuck, that was the best thing I’ve ever felt. You’ve never—”

Darla hesitated, then blurted, “Margie. She showed me.”

His smile faltered. “Margie? Your friend from work? Are you serious?”

“Don’t be mad,” she rushed, stroking his softening cock gently until he groaned. “She just helped me. Told me what to do.”

Fred rubbed his face, torn between irritation and bliss. “Jesus… I don’t know how I feel about you talking to her about us.”

Darla kissed his cheek, her voice tender. “I did it because I love you. Because I want us to be great. And you can’t tell me you didn’t love every second.”

He sighed, shaking his head — but a smile tugged at his mouth. “Yeah…It was unbelievable!”

Darla giggled, nuzzling into him. “So what do you think? Dinner with Margie. Next Friday. Just to talk.”

He groaned. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

She gave him her sweetest pout, eyes wide and lips soft. “Please, babe? For me? For us?”

Fred chuckled, defeated. “God, how am I supposed to say no to that?”

She kissed him again, firmer this time. “I love you.”

His resistance melted completely. “I love you too. Fine—Friday night. Dinner.”

Darla beamed, pressing her sticky breasts to his chest, her heart racing. “It’s gonna be so good for us, babe. You’ll see.”