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Evening Service

Fitz rediscovers a lost spark.
Fitz lay crossways on the bed, arms extended upward with a magazine in his hands. Too tired to read, he flipped through pages of advertisements and looked at pictures of refugees. It had been a tough week. Shit, it had been a tough year, he thought. Fucking clients, fucking auditors, fucking pissant bureaucrats…

At least having a couple of beers with friends tonight had relaxed him. Becca and Sam always threw a good party, even if it was only an impromptu, end-of-the-week attitude adjustment. Deirdre had enjoyed herself and it was good to see her laugh. She’d been stressed out with all the stuff she had going on lately. He closed his eyes and blew out a deep breath.

Of course, Kip and Margie were there. Margie, he thought, that crazy bitch. She’d been in rare form, hands all over Fitz. The flirting had gotten more brazen over time, an open joke, but it still flipped a switch inside him. He visualized her perfect posture and slinky curves and wondered what kind of fuck she’d be. He knew it wouldn’t take much to make it happen.

Other opportunities were there if he wanted to pursue them, he told himself. He thought about that lawyer in Chicago and the writer he met at a hotel bar in Montreal. There was definitely some chemistry at work there. There were others. He remembered feeling excited, knowing they were just waiting for him to make a move. That’s all it would take. What kept him from doing it? Dee would never know. Those women were just looking to scratch an itch. They had as much to lose as he did.

Deirdre was messing around in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. He rolled onto his stomach and clicked on the MP3 player. Radiohead poured out of the speakers. He started to sing along under his breath… I don’t care if it hurts… I wanna have control... I wanna perfect bo-dy… I wanna perfect soul. He loved that lyric. It reminded him of Dee.

He’d known that she would never be easy; she had told him that much herself. It was like loving a wolverine, he mused. Tough and stubborn, she never backed down from a fight. No, she wasn’t always easy, but he also knew the closely guarded part of her. She was the loyal friend, the romantic who cried at old movies, the affectionate goofball… the intrepid shower singer. Fitz also liked knowing that not everyone would be able to handle her the way he could. He knew she relied on his strength.

It seemed like they had been running in different directions for the last month. They were just too busy. There were times he missed her even when they were together. He missed the way she studied his eyes when he talked, missed her wise cracks, missed hearing all about her day. He even missed having her rail at him sometimes. That’s when he knew how much she needed him. The physical attraction was always there but, when they got together lately, it felt more like a release than real passion.

He glanced through the open door. Deirdre was loading up a toothbrush. She wore a snug, long sleeve tee shirt and a cute pair of boyshort panties on her bottom. A new song was playing and she swayed her hips to “Santeria”. He smiled and stifled a laugh, watching her dance while she brushed, hair flipping around her head, boobs bouncing jauntily. Suddenly, she was the skinny twenty year-old he met while in college.

Deirdre swung her body to the upbeat melody, exaggerating the motion for his benefit as he slid in behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and moved his hips in time with hers. Turning her head, she gave him an elaborate, toothy, foamy smile. Goof ball, he thought. Fitz slid his hands over her ribs and lifted the cotton shirt, hooking it above her breasts. He cupped the round packages and gave them a squeeze.


“Easy, Dee,” he said quietly, lifting her hair and planting soft kisses along her neck. She just looked too delicious to resist. He nibbled her ear lobes and took her shoulders in his large hands, kneading them through the thin material. Her movements gradually slowed. He knew what she liked; he felt the tension in her muscles melt away as he firmly manipulated them. Her body felt warm and soft and her perfume clung lightly to her skin.

“Here, let me help you.” Fitz surprised her by gently taking the toothbrush from her hand. Slowly, softly, he moved it back and forth in her mouth. She stared at him through the large mirror, a look of wonder and doubt in her dark eyes. His free hand moved to her belly, holding her body snugly against his bare chest.

She made no move to stop him. Looking at their reflection, he liked the way the dark hair on his muscled forearm contrasted with her smooth skin. He felt his cock warm and thicken beneath his cotton pajama bottoms. 

He put the toothbrush on the counter and reached for the plastic cup filled with water. He held it to her lips and she took a cautious sip. She never took her eyes from his. She held the water in her mouth before letting it drop into the sink. Fitz lifted the cup again. She took another sip, smiled naughtily, and suddenly spat the water at the mirror, letting out a self-satisfied chuckle.

“You’re a very bad girl, Dee,” he mock-scolded in her ear, hands traveling down her sides. He slid his fingers under the elastic of her panties. “Just look at the mess you’ve made.”

She inhaled deeply as he pushed the fabric over her round buns. Tiny goose bumps popped on her skin. He always loved that. When the flimsy material reached her calves, she lifted a knee, allowing the underwear to fall to the floor. Barely visible blonde fuzz whispered over the small of Deirdre’s back, her bottom, and thighs. Fitz loved the precocious little ass, sculpted by years of yoga and running. He smiled, recalling that Travolta line: I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.

Faded tan lines made her appear more naked to him. They brought to mind the first time she undressed for him back in college. They were spending a long weekend with a group of friends at an old rooming house at the shore. Deirdre wore an apricot string top and grey bikini bottoms that first day on the beach. Fitz was drunk with lust as they played in the surf and shared a blanket on the sand. The two of them barely noticed the others, prompting nudges and winks among their friends. The combination of warm sun, bare skin, and beer fed his need to devour her.

The beach house had an outdoor shower with a crude wooden privacy enclosure. It was late afternoon and Fitz could hear the distant roar of the surf as Deirdre stepped out of her bottoms. His cock leaped at the sight of her tangled, dark triangle. He pulled the string of her top when she joined him under the warm water. The stark white of her most intimate parts lay in contrast to the rest of her lightly tanned skin. He remembered how they were unable to keep their hands off each other, their soapy bodies writhing and straining, and how she slid to her knees, looking into his eyes as she took him into her mouth.


He was fully erect now and his cock strained out of the waistband of his cotton pajamas. With one pull of the cord, the droopy pants were around his feet and he kicked them away. His shaft slapped heavily against the small of Deirdre’s back and the feeling of her warm skin produced a flutter in his stomach.

Fitz wrapped his hands around Deirdre’s biceps and slowly pulled her arms back towards him, arching her back and pushing her chest forward. She looked vulnerable and exposed with her shirt bunched above her upturned breasts. His stomach tightened and he could think of nothing but taking her. He returned his gaze to the mirror. She was waiting for him there, big eyes focused on his reflection.

“Hi, honey,” is all she said.

“What am I gonna do with you, Deirdre?”

Her voice cracked. “Do anything.” Her face was red and her eyes were watery now.

He gathered both slender wrists in one strong hand and held them behind her. He knew she didn’t fear being hurt by him. Her appetites varied but, tonight at least, he understood that she needed him to take control. He drew two fingers feather soft across her breasts and watched them transform in the mirror. He grazed the very tips of her hardened nipples and tapped them as lightly as his masculine touch could manage. She squirmed and pressed her thighs together tightly, as he whispered in her ear.

“You look beautiful, Dee.”

Fitz’s hand travelled lower, feeling her flat belly and gliding over her hips. His fingers tickled her inner thighs and played with her wispy, soft hair. His thumb rubbed the scratchy skin where she had shaved the night before. He loved exploring her like this and never tired of it. Her body was a marvel to him; so different from his own. He knew she was doing her best to hold back, to keep from showing him her desire. This was a game they had played before, taking turns trying to destroy each other.

He brought his middle finger to her mouth and strummed her lower lip. She nibbled and sucked it like a cock, swirling her tongue over it, covering it with saliva. Deirdre’s lips ran up and down its length in an unspoken promise. Slowly, he withdrew glistening digit, trailing a long wet string behind it.

Deirdre moaned when he pressed his slippery finger between her legs and separated her labia. Fitz found her clit and she lost her breath. She pulled back her hips and moaned as he circled the little hood. He dipped into her wet furrow and then returned to her plump nub. He attended it with constant, gentle pressure until her body began to tremble.

“That’s my girl,” he said softly. “Just let go.”

Releasing her wrists, Fitz cupped her chin and turned it toward him as they pressed their mouths together. Their tongues wrestled in a long, wet kiss. Two fingers dove deeply into her opening and he felt her muscles close around them. He held them there with his thumb moving her clit from side to side. Deirdre moaned into his mouth and rippled with a quiet orgasm. His cock bristled with an electric glow as their bodies rubbed together.

He felt Deirdre’s waves subside gradually. Their lips parted and she smiled up at him. Fitz spun her around and sat her on the countertop, legs dangling from the edge. Her chest continued to heave as he stepped between her spread legs, her eyes reading him expectantly. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk.

“I don’t think you’re going to get much sleep tonight, Dee.”

He took her by the hips and pulled her butt across the granite. His cock poked her belly button and she wrapped her hands around it. In one motion Fitz took a handful of thick, dark hair and twisted it around his fist. He pulled back her head, exposing her slender throat. He saw her swallow hard as he worked one swollen nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Do you want me, baby?” she panted, smiling lewdly.

Deirdre had pulled his cock to her pussy and raised her feet onto the countertop. He loved her wanton, undisguised lust. It took all his strength not to bury himself in her. He hooked an arm under her knees and lifted her into his arms.


Fitz tossed Deirde on the bed and straddled her on his hands and knees. She smiled devilishly, pulling the tee shirt over her head. She reached for the cock that was straining to enter her, and slowly stroked it.

“What’s gotten into you, tonight, Fitzy?” she asked.

“Mmmm… just my wife,” he groaned, licking the tender spot below her ear.

Her pelvis squirmed in time with the movement of her hands on his shaft. “You’ve got a lot bottled up, baby. Maybe I should let you fuck Margie.”

Fitz smiled and snorted into her ear. “Oh yeah, that’s a great idea.”

“It’s been such a lonnnng time since you’ve had any strange pussy, honey,” she said sweetly. Her thumb rubbed the fleshy head of his penis mercilessly and played with his wet slit.

He bit her ear and rocked his hips. “You’re strange enough for me, darling.”

So she wants to play, he thought. Fitz knew he would come all over her belly if this kept up much longer. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. Nail-hard nipples pointed up at him from her puckered areolae. He moved his knees inside her legs and she spread them wide. She planted her feet on the bed, opening her sex.

“She reallllly wants you, baby,” Deirdre cooed. “… wants that big dick deep inside her. I told her how good it feels inside my cunny.”

Fitz lowered his hips and rubbed his shaft up and down Deirdre’s slippery channel. His head rubbed across her clit, now fully emerged. She continued to twist and wiggle her hips. Squishy sounds became louder as they rubbed their genitals more urgently together. Perspiration broke lightly across their skin.

“Just tell me you want me to fuck you, Dee.”

She stuck out her lower jaw and grinned. “I’ve seen her in the sauna. Her tits are so big and juicy.”

Fitz repositioned himself and rolled his pelvis. His cock throbbed, pointing ramrod straight at her opening. He pushed and felt the prominent ridge of his head pop just inside Deirdre’s vagina. He released her wrists and she grasped his straining triceps as she writhed on the fresh sheets. She grunted and lifted her butt off the bed, inviting him to impale her. He withheld the thrust she was expecting.

“Sounds like…” he panted. “Sounds like maybe you want her.”

She looked at him in disbelief. Then a sly smile crossed her lips. “Oh yes, baby, a threesome! You can watch me eat her pussy… then fuck us both. Do you want to see me lick Margie’s clitty?”

She’s just too fucking good, he thought. God, how this chick slays me. Fitz straightened up, hooked an arm under Deirdre’s knee, and swung it swiftly over her other leg. Her hips and shoulders followed. In an instant, she was on her tummy and he knelt between her legs. He grabbed her hips and roughly pulled her up to his groin. His organ, slick with her juices, moved menacingly across her wet, puckered button. He felt like he had a rod of hot steel between his legs. Reaching around her hip, Fitz again began to strum her tumid nub.

“Do you want me to fuck you now, Dee?” he croaked, her musky scent filling his nostrils. She loved being taken like this. He knew that. He also knew he couldn’t hold out any longer. “Just say the words.”

He heard her groan into the pillow, her arms splayed over her head. Deirdre turned her head to the side. “What do you want, Fitz?” she panted.

He tucked his hips and dragged his engorged head between her glistening lips. He found her opening and again presented at her gate.

“I just want you, Dee. I don’t want any-fucking-one else.”

Fitz’s hands pushed down on the narrow small of Deirdre’s back as he plunged deeply into her with one thrust. He felt the joyful resistance of her muscles.

“Ohhhhhhh…” she moaned softly.

That was the sound he lived for. He withdrew as she lay open and vulnerable, waiting for him to do as he pleased with her. He took in the long curve of her back, the dark ring surrounding her tiny opening, and the rigid column of flesh shimmering with Deirdre’s slick juices. Fitz could feel the current of her desire in the tremors that coursed through her body.

Again he squeezed his shaft into her slippery pussy, more slowly this time. She grunted and groaned, hands thrown forward and hair in a tangle, as he began to steadily fuck her. Fitz moved over Deirdre, pressing his hands into the bed near her shoulders and pushing her legs wide with his knees. His pelvis pumped, gradually increasing the force and speed of his thrusts. She grabbed fistfuls of sheets and pushed her ass upward as they mated with primal abandon.

Deirdre never took long. She pulled her arms back and dug her fingernails into his hands. Fitz watched her back arch dramatically as she lifted her head and froze.

“God, FUCK!” she screamed.

Fitz didn’t hear much else. The heat and pleasure in his cock had spread through him like a drug. It was a subtle, physical euphoria he wanted to hold onto, but he soon felt the insistent pressure that he knew he would not resist. He came powerfully, causing his body to jolt and shake. He lowered himself onto Deirdre, feeling the soft strength of her body as he filled her.


Deirdre buried her face under her arm when the sun peaked through the bedroom window. She became aware of her husband’s morning ritual poking her in the ass. Again. She squirmed around to face Fitz.

“Time to get up, lover boy. Janie has swim practice early today.”

The bed was a wreck with the douvet and sheets bunched at the foot, and accent pillows thrown on the floor. She noticed that she was lying in a giant wet spot.

“Mmmm… time is it?”

“Almost seven thirty. She’s probably already up.”

Fitz stretched and surveyed the room, then looked at his naked wife. Her leg was thrown over his and her head rested in the crook of his arm.

“Did you have fun last night?” he asked.

“Yeah… but I was wondering,” she said, running her fingernail up the underside of his erection. “Who won?”

Fitz folded his hands behind his head and thought as Deirdre climbed on top of him.

“Maybe we both did.”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright 2013-2014 Gerard L. Johnston All rights reserved.

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