My wife's libido ramps up while I remain locked up. XXX Images

My first male from the Internet

" Sort of a growl, it's all he said.

"Sure," I responded, so daintily I almost slapped myself. "Nice room." He didn't answer, but he nodded, then strolled to the window, moved the sheer aside and glanced out like he was checking the high-rise across the street for snipers.

He was wearing a light brown sport jacket and saying, "Excuse me," he carefully took it off, then removed his shoulder harness holster, the one restraining whatever those big black guns are called.

"'s been kind of a long time, don't ya think?" I asked, a note of slight irritation creeping into my voice. He looked at me funny.

"What do you mean?" He asked, presenting the question like he was some bystander; innocent as the day he was born!

"Eleven days? Don't you think it's a bit much? Eleven days? I practically rip your clothes to shreds that first time and when you finally - well, you didn't call but in your text - you casually say the eleventh? Today? Really?" Pouting, I sat back hard against the chair.

Barely reacting, by then he had unzipped a kind of collapsible lunchbox container; a hand-held cooler he was carrying when he walked in. Without even looking my way he reminded defensively: "You said eleven, not me."

"Eleven? Eleven what?" I asked, more steamed by the minute. Blankly, I looked over at the window for solace. He didn't answer; instead, he slipped his hand into the cooler, moving around some ice cubes. Turning my eyes back to him I watched as he drew out one of those white mini-liqueur bottles - the kind people order on flights to Peru.

Anyway, it was hard to tell the exact brand, but by then who cared about the brand? All I could think was, who chills liqueurs?

Anyway, the whole thing was strange and if I wasn't already sopping wet just thinking about sex with him, I would have walked!

"Eleven loads," he calmly stated; clearer than I expected. "You got my text. I specifically asked you how many? Sheila, it meant how many loads. I thought you understood."

"Eleven loads? Understood? Eleven? Eleven loads of..?" My mouth stopped.

I'm twenty-five! I'm with this man - because I'm madly in love with him - and because he's smart, OK? But I'm twenty-five! It means I know some things - a little anyway - and in spite of the usual confidence that comes with knowing things my voice quit working; unwilling to come right out with exactly what the "L" word stood for.

By then he was reaching into the side pocket of his jacket, and producing a shot glass - clear, not frosted, he placed it in front of me on the marble coffee table, setting it there with a sharp tap.

Opening the little bottle, which even I could see had a broken seal, he carefully - without spilling a drop - poured out its thick whitish contents, filling the little glass to brimming.

With that accomplished, he stood up, seized my arms, pulled me to my feet, grabbed me by the hair, careened my head back - hard, plunged his tongue deep into my throat, pulled my hair again, drew his face away - and asked, "Where's the red lipstick, bitch?"

"It's in my purse," I lamented, thinking - Damn! I knew I forgot something! I glanced in the direction of my bag.

Letting go, he shoved me back into the chair where I sat - arms crossed - fuming that I had waited all this time and forget the fucking lipstick!

I was furious with myself! He grabbed my purse from off the bed, and tossed it at me like a shovel pass!

"Red lipstick," he ordered. "Put it on." Unable to resist shooting him a look, I glared, fished the slender stick out of the jumbled mess and with the help of my little compact - the gold one my Gramma gave me - I applied his cherished lipstick with just enough care not to fuck that up too.

By then he had settled a little too comfortably back in the chair opposite me, and he watched as the thoroughly feminine process unfolded, smiling interestedly as I finished up. I blotted once with a white tissue - hoping to God I didn't get any on my teeth. "Looks nice," he mentioned. "Why didn't you do it before? Do you not want me here?"

What was I supposed