"Some of my friends have said they get turned on by watching their husbands do housework," I instant messaged you. "Do you get turned on by it?" you message back. "I don't know." That was several days ago. Since then, I've been thinking about it. ----- I remember long ago reading an article that compared how men and women respond to visual erotica. It said that, for men, a single image is good -- a snapshot in time -- but women need more of a situation. A story. In the article, the example that was given for a single image that a man would like was that he would walk in the door and see his wife vacuuming naked. That sounded like a situation to me. Perhaps they meant that male minds construct the whole situation from the visual data of that one image. Like seeing a single glimpse of a moving object and being able to project its path, both into the past and into the future. I betcha that is a talent leftover from our hunter-gatherer roots. Gotta aim where the animal is going to be when the spear gets there. Perhaps we women need to shift our focus back and forth between several ever-changing things. This berry bush looks like it needs a few more days. I'll keep that in mind and check back. Let's see if the meat roasting on the fire is ready yet. These grains could use to soak a little longer. We review all the things in our environment over and over again. Each time, they've made a little progress. That gives us multiple data points to plot in our minds what is going on. Do women do this during sex too? Does our awareness shift between our own pleasure and the signs in our lover that signal his pleasure? Or between the status of our different erogenous zones? Do we fuck like our hunter-gatherer ancestors lived? I don't know. And I don't intent to waste a good fucking just to satisfy my scientific curiosity by observing myself. ----- I find myself left with an image in my mind of you vacuuming. No, you're not naked. I guess that was too unrealistic for my imagination to accept it. But, I guess the article is right, at least about women. It could never stay in my mind as just that one image. A situation must form. A plot must happen. I can't just leave it at that and not take some kind of action. Action makes it a story. The story writes itself in my head. It is the weekend, and I know you are staying home and cleaning today. I arrive to your house just after you have started vacuuming. I let myself in, and go sit on the couch to watch. Oh, but not just to watch. I have every intention of teasing you. And that thought is turning me on. You didn't hear me come in because of the noise of the vacuum. But now you see me there. I smile at you, and leap right into my plan. I pull my breasts up over the low neck of my tank top, which now supports their weight from underneath and pushes them together. You glance over, and I see your eyebrow raise. I stroke my fingertips gently along the top of my breasts. Down in between them. On the sensitive outsides. They feel very soft. Don't you want to stop vacuuming and touch them? I touch them the way you would. Cupping them in my hands. Squeezing them gently. Relishing in how my fingers slightly indent the firm surface. Oh, look at my hard nipples! I pinch them like you would. I roll them between my fingers. That feels so good! Wait a second! Am I teasing you or am I teasing me? I lean back on the couch a little to get more comfortable, and check in on you to see if you are paying attention. Of course you are. But still vacuuming. Still vacuuming. I pull my very long legs up, planting a foot on each side of me. My skirt rides up, exposing the tops of my stockings, and my bare thighs above that. I stroke my fingers along my inner thighs, where the flesh is very sensitive. My head tilts back. You can't hear me moan because of the noise. You're still going through the motions of vacuuming. But I can see that your eyes have stopped focusing in front of you. They flit to the upper left corner that represents Visual Construction. That means you are imagining something. Perhaps playing out a possible course of action in your head? Thinking of fucking me? Good. Good! Now they go to the lower left. Kinesthetic. You're checking in with your physical state. How do you feel? What do you feel? Need? Please please please let it be need! Don't you need to fuck me? I need it too! How do I convince you? I've gotta step this up right now! I slide my skirt up further, exposing my completely smooth and hairless pussy. I spread my legs wide, and slide my fingers along my silky lips. Your eyes, while mostly watching me, still keep flicking to the lower left, indicating you keep noticing the feelings in your body. Yeah, you're feeling it. I'm reeling you in. I slide my fingers along my very wet slit. Mmmmmmmm. I press 2 fingers inside me. My back arches. I wish they were your fingers instead. Your strong, thick fingers. I notice your eyes start to move to the lower right corner. Internal Dialog. You are talking to yourself. But what are you saying? Are you rationalizing that the housework can wait? It isn't that important, really. It isn't like there is a deadline to get it done. Or are you telling yourself to fight the temptation? Then your face hardens a little bit. Determination. You take your attention off of me and go back to vacuuming. I guess you've made your choice. I'm disappointed, but at the same time I am not disappointed. I love that you have that kind of strength. In fact, it makes me all the more aroused. Oh, how I want you! I curl my fingers inside me, trying to put pressure on my g spot the way you do. But my fingers are not yours. I can't duplicate that feeling by myself. I need you. Cursed vacuum! Cursed carpet! You are standing between me and my relief! I hate you, carpet! I hate all carpet! I'm squirming with frustration. It sloshes around inside me like a liquid. Finally, you bring the vacuum to a stop a few feet in front of me. With the noise stopped, we can now hear the squishy sounds my fingers are making in my pussy. You wrap up the cord and stick the attachments into the holders. "Get your hands off my cunt," you say firmly. I remove my fingers. "Come kneel over here, and I will be right back." I hear you pack the vacuum away. And then you're back, and you have your cock out of your pants. Standing in front of me, you say "open your mouth." I do. Holding your cock in your hand, you brush the head along my lips, leaving a trail of slick pre-cum. I reach out my tongue and press it to the head. You suddenly pull back. "If I wanted tongue I would have asked for it." You reach down and pull on my nipples, twisting them. I gasp and squirm. "Ok, NOW stick out your tongue." You rub the head of your cock all over my tongue. I can taste you! I love your taste! You take hold of my head and slowly but firmly feed your cock all the way into me. "Swallow," you say. I swallow, my muscles squeezing your cock in my throat. It makes me gag. But it also makes me feel your hard thickness, how deeply your cock has invaded me. And I love that. You are stroking in and out of my face. I am so aroused! I can smell me. I know you can smell me too. You slide out and grab me by the hand and pull me along behind you through the house. We make a detour into the kitchen, where you grab a plastic spatula. I don't need another data point to have a healthy concern about that turn of events. How many relevant data points was that, anyway? I'm trying to think as you guide me up the stairs to the bedroom, but I can't. We have arrived. You fling me in the general direction of the bed and tell me to get on all fours. "You were being very manipulative today." I can't deny that. Your hands are running all over my ass. "You know I don't like to be coerced into doing things. I don't know what you were thinking. You couldn't have possibly thought I would fall for it." I hadn't though that far ahead. But I guess I would have done it anyway. It was fun. You are rubbing the spatula on my ass. "And now you'll have a taste of some consequences you hadn't planned on." Well, I've never thought of myself as being any good at manipulation. It always seems like there are more factors than I would be able to account for. Maybe I am just lacking the instinct. Maybe it is just a matter of practice. I feel the spatula leave my skin. Then THWACK!! I fell forward from the force. WOW! I did NOT expect you to hit me so hard. You grab my hair and use it to pull me back up. You tilt my head back and look at my tear-filled eyes and the look of shock on my face. "I don't think that was enough. I don't think you think it is enough either. I don't think you feel like you have had enough yet to balance out your bad behavior. In fact, I don't think the message even got through that time." Damn right! I was TOO FUCKING SHOCKED!! I want to escape, but there is no time to think about how. You hold my hair tighter, and that lets me know it is coming. THWACK!! I flinch and squeal from the overwhelmingness of it. I can sense you relishing in my reactions. You LOVED seeing me flinch. You LOVED hearing me cry out. And a whisper runs through my head that says "and I loved that you loved it." Why am I whispering, I wonder? Is that one of those truths that is hard to face? I can handle it at full volume! I LOVED THAT YOU LOVED IT!!" DO IT AGAIN! Wait, NO! Don't do it again! I don't want to do that again! ... Yes I do! ... No I don't! ... Oh, yes I do! ... Do I? Oh, fuck it all! OMG here it comes again! THWACK!! And then, before I can recover, I feel your cock pressing at my entrance. YES! I hadn't realized how much I needed you right now. It snuck up on me. I feel you sliding in easily. I am so drenched. I feel my flesh spreading, giving way to your cock. Please PLEASE fuck me! FUCK ME! And you do. You do. With such an intensity that every cell in my body knows I am being fucked. And every cell in my body knows I am cumming. I am cumming and cumming and cumming. I can feel my muscles clenching your hard cock. Wringing it. Trying desperately to suck the cum out of you. Yes! Yes! Cum in me! I feel your cock pulsing! I feel your cum spurting into me! That was definitely absolutely fantastically fucking spectacular! There aren't enough suitable adjectives an adverbs in all of human language to describe it! Coming back to reality, I feel you looking at me. I turn to meet your eyes. The expression in them makes me feel more beautiful than I have ever felt before. As we cuddle in bed, with my head on your chest, everything feels right. The whole universe is functioning perfectly. Nothing anywhere could possibly be wrong. My mind plays it over again. What just happened? "Where did that come from?" I ask. "I don't know. I guess it was there all along." "I wonder what else you have hiding in you." "I wonder too."
