Caught Out on the Couch

The afternoon was dragging like a zombie’s decaying leg, and I was bored out of my mind. My husband, Mark, had been working continuously throughout all the interminable lockdowns, lugging cargo onto delivery vans for an international courier company; meanwhile I was stuck at home by myself, furloughed, and increasingly lost for something — anything — to pass the time. There was only so much Netflix I could watch in a day before my eyes would get bleary and I’d wind up fast asleep on the couch. It didn’t feel like a very productive way to spend the day, and I didn’t want Mark to come home and find me unconscious and snoring on the sofa. Again.

I was restless for some other way to occupy myself while I counted down the last hour and a half before Mark was due to arrive home, so I opened up my Kindle and scrolled through my library for something fun to read. I decided on a steamy piece of erotica by Alexa Sommers, and nestled into a bundle of throw cushions.

As the story progressed and the action really began to heat up, I started to feel a delicious tingle in my nipples. They were pulling and puckering into hardened little pebbles, and as the taut peaks brushed against the light fabric of my t-shirt, I felt a slow drip ooze lazily from between my pussy lips and into the gusset of my grey cotton briefs. Mmmm, this was nice, and certainly more enjoyable than yet another true crime documentary.

I continued reading, but found myself increasingly distracted by the throbbing ache that was building between my thighs. I glanced up from the e-reader to look at the time. The iridescent digits on the front of the DVR told me that there was still another hour before my hubby would be home. Perfect.

I shut down my Kindle and set it on the coffee table, slid my leggings down, and peeled off my t-shirt, stretching out on the couch in nothing but my knickers. With a breathy sigh, I closed my eyes and brought both hands up to stroke my erect nipples, as I played out a sexy scene from the book in my mind, with myself as the lead character. My pussy pulsed as I let the fantasy play out behind my eyes, and soon my right hand was traipsing its way slowly down my belly and beneath the waistband of my underwear.

I don’t know how long I had been lying there oblivious, lazily stroking my labia and occasionally dipping my finger inside the moist shallows of my cunt, but I slowly began to register the sound of ragged, heavy breathing and realized that it wasn’t my own. I stilled my fingers and opened my heavy lids to see Mark standing over me, looking down and running hungry eyes up and down my body.

“Fuck! You’re home early!” I gasped, pulling my hand out of my briefs and bringing my knees together in a pose of demure innocence, as if my hubby hadn’t just walked into the living room to find me half-naked on the couch and diddling myself.

Mark brought a finger to his lips and commanded, “Shhh, shhh, shhh! Keep going.”

His eyes blazing with lust, he pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing his broad, sculpted torso — a legacy of his years playing rugby at university. He dropped the garment to the floor, then ran a hand slowly down his hairy chest, his toned belly, before unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his jeans, and unzipping his fly.

Mark’s taut body and the seductive fire in his eyes made my pussy quiver, and I opened my legs wide to reveal the damp patch on the crotch of my knickers. He licked his lips voraciously, lowered his jeans, then stepped out of them, kicking the faded denims aside. As he brought a hand to the front of his black trunks and traced the outline of his erection teasingly, I slid my middle finger up and down the saturated gusset of my panties. With a moan, I let my finger press the material just inside my slit. I could tell from the way he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple visibly bobbing, that he liked what he saw.

We continued like this for a few minutes, just watching each other stroke ourselves through our underwear. Both of us ran our free hands over our chests; his fondling his chest hair, mine kneading my breasts and pulling at my erect nipples. By the time Mark slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his trunks and lazily lowered them, his hard cock springing free with a delightful bob, I was almost delirious with desire.

With his underwear discarded, Mark began running his fist up and down his tumescent length in long, unhurried strokes. His eyes were fixed upon my crotch and, seeing his rapt attention, I pulled the material aside to let him glimpse my swollen, glossy nether lips.

“God, you look so fucking juicy,” he groaned, and I saw his grip tighten upon his twitching prick. Aroused to levels I hadn’t experienced in months, I quickly removed my briefs and threw them at his chest with a playful flourish. With dexterous hands he caught them, ran them all over his torso, then raised them to his nose and inhaled deeply, his eyes locking with mine. I watched him lower the sopping crotch of my underwear to his mouth and lap at the creamy slick that coated the cotton, then suck the whole gusset into his mouth. As he savored the flavor of my musky liquor, he gave a throaty moan and jerked his cock faster.

I rubbed fervent circles around my clit as I watched pre-cum glisten at the tip of his cock, the muscles in his forearm taut as he worked his shaft feverishly. My nipples tingled, the areolae pimpled and puffy. I dipped two fingers into my slippery font and brought them back up to lacquer my swollen nub with the silken fluid. I placed my left hand on the top of my mound and pulled upward towards my navel, my clit emerging hard and throbbing from within its fleshy prepuce. My right hand then resumed its vigorous agitation of my glossy pearl.

Mark ceased his suckling on my creamy gusset, and pulled the knickers out of his mouth, trailing them down his body and towards his prick. Opening out the bunched, soaked cotton, he placed the crotch of the panties against the length of his cock and began to jack himself frenetically.

The sight of my underwear, wet with my juices and his saliva, wrapped around his rock-hard shaft made my cunt flutter, and I plunged two fingers from my left hand into my throbbing sex, as my right hand continued to rub frantically at my clit.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, his voice almost a sob, “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

I finger-fucked my pussy hard as we locked eyes again, each of us racing toward the precipice of our orgasms. I was first to tumble over the edge, and as I shrieked and shuddered in my ecstatic throes, I heard him whimper, then grunt, “Shit. Ohhh, fuck, fuck… fuuuckkkk.”

I lowered my eyes to his groin and watched, enraptured, as his cock pulsed thick, steady jets of ejaculate into the already sodden cotton of my knickers. The muscles in his belly were tight and twitching, and his hips rocked languorously back and forth as he milked his prick, his balls emptying the last of their contents into the once grey, now almost charcoal-colored briefs.

When his orgasmic tremors subsided, Mark used my underwear to mop at his dick, then sank to his knees next to me. With a dirty growl, he brought the panties to my mouth, and I sucked on them hungrily, tasting his rich sap mixed with the musk of my cunt.

His face flushed and damp with beads of perspiration, Mark chuckled huskily as I guzzled at our fragrant fluids, and gently kissed my cheek and all along my jawline. As he did, he skimmed his hand down my belly and began to tease my still-throbbing clit, eliciting a strangled moan from the back of my throat.

“Honey,” he purred, his warm lips pressed against the shell of my ear as he slipped his middle finger inside my slick sex. “I’m home.”

©️ Jupiter Grant, 2021

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Jupiter Grant is a self-published author, blogger, narrator, and audiobook producer. Buy me a coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/jupitergrant

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