#MWBB 2.51 : The Thrill Is Gone

Jerry sat on his sofa every night waiting for her to go to sleep. She went upstairs about nine. She usually went upstairs between eight and nine most nights. He usually stays up till eleven, or midnight. Just to make sure she’s asleep when he gets to bed.

Sometimes Jerry wondered when it all started. When he stopped going to bed when she did. When she stopped asking him to come to bed. When he started wearing pajamas every night, even though she sent to bed naked.

“Used to be different,” he remembered. “Yeah. Used to be different.”

He remembered the first night, before they got married, when he woke up at stupid o’clock and she was on top of him. “Are we doing what I think we’re doing?” She hadn’t said anything, just kept moving.

Before they got married, they spent nights together at her house, in her bed. Hell, they spent whole weeks of nights together. Always at her house, always in her bed. Never in his apartment. But he didn’t care.

After they got married she got experimental. She started trying more positions, and more types of activity. Over the years, they’d tried everything, including oral and anal. They tried sex on the stairs, and in the shower. On the sofa, in the kitchen. Even in the middle of the night, with no lights on, and the curtains open. It was OK to experiment, since they were married. They could have all the sex they wanted. And they did.

After the kids were born, they didn’t experiment as much. As the kids grew older, the fun nights grew less frequent. When the oldest went to college, things pretty much stopped.

Jerry sat on his sofa and remembered what it was like. When she put her head between his legs. Or when he stood by the bed with her on her hands and knees. He used to watch every stroke. That was part of the fun for him. Watching.

But, those days were gone. And Jerry wasn’t like the guys he worked with. All of them divorced their wives and had married younger women. Women still interested in sex. If that’s what they wanted, Jerry was OK with that. But he wondered why they slept with women the same age as their daughters. “That just ain’t right, is it.”

Besides, it took energy to wake up in the middle of the night for that sort of thing, and he’d rather sleep. He knew, after enough times, it all became the same. Everything felt the same. All the new, all the excitement, had worn off.

The thrill was gone.

Around eleven-thirty that night, Jerry felt tired enough to go to sleep. He wandered upstairs, changed into his pajamas, and climbed into bed. The covers felt good. After a few minutes, she stirred, pulled his arm out, and snuggled in, her head on his shoulder.

Jerry smiled. The thrill might be gone, but the comfort and the trust of having her as his friend and companion more than made up for that.

511 Words
@LurchMunster


This is my entry for Year 2, Week 51 (Week 2.51) of Jeff Tsuruoka‘s Mid-Week Blues-Buster flash fiction challenge. This week the prompt is the song, “The Thrill Is Gone” by B. B. King. Please, go read the other stories in this week’s challenge.

A Tale Of Lust : Pictures Every Night [Adults Only]

[The following is for adult consumption only. If you can’t handle explicit sexual content, go away.]

11:30 at night. Thomas’s wife was asleep. “Finally,” he grinned. “Now I can do what I want.”

He pulled his tablet out and opened the WEB browser. “I’m not a bad guy. I’m not.” He typed in the familiar URL, and watched the page load. “It’s just. She’s not interested anymore.” He remembered when the two of them spent late nights exploring each other. He remembered how fun sex with her had been.

It wasn’t fun anymore. He didn’t know when that happened. Or why. It just had. “It’s not what I wanted.” But he wasn’t sure that was true. Perhaps, they got tired of each other. Perhaps the sex was always the same. Perhaps they ran out of things to try. “The thrill is gone,” he heard the song play in his mind. It wasn’t spontaneous anymore. She scheduled it, when it happened, and when it happened, it was a chore.

He hadn’t screwed her in two years, maybe longer, he’d quit keeping track. It was one of those never going to happen things. They’d done everything. And he’d enjoyed it all. Especially oral sex. She knew it. She used to tell him, “I know you liked that. You got your rocks off.” And, “I know that felt good to you,” when he finished.

Now, he never finished. “Sometimes, I wonder why we sleep in the same bed.” He looked at the screen of his tablet. A pornography site, with daily videos and pictures. He wondered when it became more fun to watch the videos, and stare at the pictures that it was to screw her. “It’s not my fault.” Thomas shook his head. Yeah, it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know whose fault it was, but it wasn’t his. “It’s like she got tired of everything, and stopped.”

He clicked on the link for the daily video, and watched a girl do it all. The camera never left her. All it showed of her partner was his dong and his hands. It started with her getting naked, and riding her fingers. Next, she off his clothes, then knelt in front of him, and sucked his cock. Thomas always liked to watch the blow jobs. They reminded him of when his wife used to suck him. Since she never did anymore, he liked to imagine the girl in the video was sucking him, her head riding up and down the length of him, like in the video. He wished it was him she was eating, so he could feel it for real, instead of imagining it. He wished it was him she was taking in her throat, him exploding into her.

Hell, it never happened in his life anymore. Why shouldn’t he enjoy a little fantasy? What was wrong with that?

The girl in the video got on her hands and knees. She turned her ass to the guy, and used her hand to spread herself. Thomas watched as she finger fucked herself, and spoke of how much she wanted the man to fuck her. After a few minutes, she got her wish as the man slid his cock into her, and started stroking. Thomas listened to her moan with each stroke in the video, and imagined it was him doing the stroking, watching each stroke he made.

He knew what was coming, he’d seen enough videos to know. “How’s he gonna fuck her ass? With his fingers, or his dick?” He waited knowing he’d enjoy watching whatever happened. He licked his lips, and used his hand to adjust his crotch. “That’s better.” He waited, watching the girl drive her hips into the man so each stroke was a deep as it could be. “God, I wish it was my dick she was humping.”

Thomas grinned as the man moved his hand to her ass, and slowly slid his index and middle fingers into her. He liked how she moaned, “Mmmm. That’s what I wanted.” It was what Thomas wanted too. He wished it was him in the video, his dick in her, his fingers in her ass.

He watched every stroke of cock and fingers until the man peaked, and the video ended.

“That was good. Now, for the pictures.” He clicked through the daily pictures. There were pictures of a dozen naked girls, sucking dicks. Thomas thought it would be great to fuck a dozen different faces. Pretty faces. Watching them ride up and down his length. Making him feel good.

There were a dozen more girls with dicks in their pussies. Some on their hands and knees, taking it from behind, some sitting on the man, some on their backs with their legs pulled up, and their cunts wide open. “I’d love to line them up, and fuck them all. Watch my dick pump into them. God, that would be good.”

There was a third dozen girls getting their asses fucked. All of them smiling, moaning, or groaning. Some on their knees, some sitting on the man, and some on their backs with their legs over his shoulders, and their butt cheeks spread. “I’d love a bunch of asses to fuck. Whenever I wanted. As much as I wanted.” Thomas imagined it was him in each girls ass, stroking away. “I like fucking ass.”

The fourth set of pictures had lots of naked girls, eating each other. “I’d love to have two at once. Two mouths, Two pussies. Two asses. And I could fuck them while they licked each other. God. That would be fun.”

The fifth set of pictures was of two girls and one guy. The girls ate each other while the guy fucked them everywhere. Faces, pussies, and asses. “It’s what I’d do. God I wish I could do that.”

When he finished the pictures, it was past midnight. Thomas turned off his tablet, “God, I needed this tonight.” He knew he’d sleep well, with fun dreams, and he knew he’d find release for the stress between his legs in the shower the next morning.

“God knows, I won’t find any release with her.”

He fell asleep dreaming of fucking a 20 something blonde’s face. Shoving himself all the way in. Exploding. Her swallowing it all.

Lust sat in on his sofa two hours later, “A guy needs a few fantasies,” he told Thomas’s wife, as she reviewed the browsing history on his tablet. In another month, she’d file for divorce, and get him thrown out of her house.

She knew he didn’t love her anymore. Their marriage had died years ago. She thought of it as a mercy killing.

Lust laughed. “It’s too easy, isn’t it. A few pictures, a video, and presto. Another happy couple bites the dust. And he’ll never see it coming. Everybody wins!” Lust would feed on human misery. Thomas would have his fantasies. His wife would have her freedom. And the girls in the pictures would have their money.  Everybody’d win.

“Whores. The world has always had them. And always will. No matter how much it changes.” He laughed. “And men will always find them.” He looked at Thomas’s future ex-wife. “Just like he has.”

Life was good. And Lust knew it. And it would stay good, so long as men had dicks between their legs. Lust laughed, and laughed until dawn.