Late for Dinner (L)

This story contains strong language (L)

Michael’s cell phone buzzed. It was from his wife Elizabeth: “Text me when you’re almost home, take whatever you want, I’ve already had mine.” Damn, he should have called and said he was going to be late. She’d probably had dinner ready and got tired of waiting for him.

He slumped into his car and started the long drive home. Along the way, he tried to think of ways to make it up to her. Maybe a day at the spa! That might be a little overkill, but he felt awful. The kids were out of town and he knew E had probably made something special. Not to mention, now she wanted to know when he was close to reheat his meal. Fuck, she was a good wife! Good and hot…just like his waiting meal. As he drove home, he thought about how blessed he was to have such an awesome wife. His mind turned to other ways he could make it up to her.

Michael pulled into their subdivision and texted his wife, “Almost home”. A few minutes later he pulled into their driveway and headed in the back door. He walked into a messy kitchen that smelled divine. Michael put down his stuff and called out, “E, I’m home. Sorry I didn’t call. The food smells great!”

He continued to the dining room and found two place settings. There were candles, music…the whole nine yards. One spot had been used recently. The plates and utensils were gone and there was an empty bottle of wine. The other had a card on an empty plate… Double FUCK!

He walked over to the card and reluctantly opened it. “M, I waited as long as I could. Please don’t talk to me tonight. I’m going to stay in the guest room. We can talk in the morning. Take care of yourself!” Shit… Michael couldn’t remember a time when he had felt like a bigger asshole than he did now. He blew out the candles. Then, despite what the card said, he made his way to the guest room.

When he reached the door, he saw another card taped to it, with a handwritten “Shh” on the outside. He hesitantly lifted it off the door, trying not to make a sound. He was prepared to take his medicine. It read: “Michael, you should have called. I waited as long as I could but had to take care of myself. I DO NOT want to talk about it. You can go fuck me!”

Wait a minute. He read the note again. It said fuck me, not fuck off… Maybe it was a typo. He had seen an empty bottle of wine…

Michael decided to test the waters and lightly knocked. No answer. He knocked a little harder. Still no answer. He started to walk away but decided he should at least check on his wife. She wasn’t a heavy drinker and a full bottle of wine could be bad news. M took a deep breath and opened the door like it was attached to a bomb.

He would have never guessed what he was walking into. There was his beautiful Elizabeth, bent over the guest bed. She was wearing nothing but stockings, heels, and a note placed on her lower back. He started to say something but saw the “Shh” on the card. E wiggled her ass a little as he picked it up: “I forgive you. I got tired of waiting and used my toys. If you want to make it up to me, drop your pants and fuck me like it’s your last time. Why are you still reading this note? FUCK ME, NOW!”

Wow! Michael unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants in record time. He gently pressed the tip of himself into his hot-ass wife. He tried to go in slow but E thrust herself against him. She wasn’t kidding about a head start–her pussy was WET. She reached back and put his hands on her hips and continued to slam herself into him.

M was a little slow on the uptake tonight, but that was all he needed to get himself in gear. He gripped E’s sexy ass and fucked her like there was no tomorrow. Usually, he focused on her cumming first. But given the ease in which they were gliding in and out on each other, and the assortment of toys on the bed, he figured he’d take the free pass.

E started to moan. It was the first sound she had made since he walked in. God, he loves his wife! She moaned some more and moved his hand to her breast.

That was it. Michael squeezed her nipple and thrust a few more times before he exploded. He shot his load into her as her muscles pulsated with her own orgasm. It gently milked him dry. Michael leaned over and whispered into her ear:

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I love you.”

“I know. But now you have to clean up the mess.”

“Of course! Clean the kitchen, got it!” he said. He pulled slowly out of her and started to fix his pants.

Elizabeth playfully rolled over.

She looked up at Michael with a devilish grin and seductively spread her legs.

“I meant this mess…”