Take Your Medicine, Honey

A week later I was once again confronted with the round countenance of Mr. Rogers as I sat in the consulting room. My swollen and bruised member had returned to some semblance of normalcy - if one was able to ignore the seam of sutures on the underside - and Mr. Rogers told me that he was very pleased with progress.

He asked me if there were any problems - any unusual pain or difficulty urinating, and so forth. I told him that under the circumstances everything seemed to be about as good as I could expect, apart from some itchiness.

"The itching is a good sign," he said. "It means that the wound is beginning to heal, and that nerve functions are normal. No problems with involuntary erections?" he asked.

"No," I replied dryly. "Or even with voluntary ones."

He nodded. "The medication should eliminate any problems in that area."

It apparently did. I had obviously not attempted to stimulate myself to hardness, but like most men I was occasionally awakened at night by the need to urinate and the subsequent 'woody' that it caused. I had been aroused from slumber several times in the last week by a need to take a leak - but there had been no sign whatsoever of the usual accompanying hard-on. The innocuous little tablets that I was required to take twice daily seemed to doing their job. Angela had noted that the pills were, in fact, being distributed by the pharmaceutical company she worked for.

The consultation with Mr. Rogers came to an end, and I was to return next week to have the stitches removed. I was encased in a lot less bandaging now - just a light layer that mainly served to keep my underwear from chaffing against the stitches.

Angela had returned to work on Monday, and today I had driven myself to my appointment with Mr. Rogers. I grabbed a meal at our local takeaway shop on the way home, and as I sat munching my fish and chips I took stock of recent events.

I was currently on paid leave with the company I worked for, and they had begun to make pleasing overtures about compensation for my injury. The overtures had become more pleasing still after I had idly told the squeaky-voiced company spokesman that I would discuss their offer with my legal counsel. I was further cheered after checking my bank account; the six-month stint working abroad had added a considerable sum to the balance - enough, in fact, to finalise the loan on the house. Very soon Angela and I would own the place - lock, stock and barrel. The thought made me smile.

Angela and I had bought the place just after we were married. It was a two storey, four bedroom cedar-clad, located in a leafy bayside suburb. We wanted a fairly large house because we planned on starting a family in two or three years. Angela had sold the house that she and Carl had been paying off, and my ex-wife had bought out my stake in the home that we had shared. This luckily meant that between us, Angela and I had a very sizable deposit for our own home, and we'd needed only a modest home loan.

A massive garage had originally taken up much of the ground floor of the house. Soon after we had bought it, Angela had suggested that we partition off the rear section of the garage so that she could have a dedicated area for her gym equipment. I thought it was a great idea, as we had no need for such a cavernous garage anyway, and it would immediately add value to the property. I had done the renovations myself, and the new partitioned section was actually so large that we ended up splitting it into two rooms - a dedicated gym for her Angela's treadmill, exercise bike, bench press, and various other instruments of self-inflicted torture, and a smaller room that we now used as a guestroom / study.

The home loan was our only remaining debt, and I was looking forward to strolling into the bank and paying it out in full. With the exception of my unfortunate accident, things were falling into place very nicely.

For the remainder of the day I watched some TV and did what little housework that needed doing. As evening approached I prepared dinner for Angela and myself. When she arrived home she anxiously asked about my visit to the specialist. I told her that all was as well as could be expected, and that he was happy with progress. She expressed relief, and smiled warmly and kissed me.

Her kiss sent a sharp pang of desire through me. While the pills I was taking to prevent erections did their job effectively, they certainly didn't stop the underlying sexual hunger. During the first week after my accident, my ardor had naturally been dampened. But as I started mending, my libido gradually began asserting its presence. It had been two weeks now since I had last climaxed, and I found that I was eyeing Angela a little more lustfully each day.

I came to think of it as a 'buzz' - a constant sexual tension, both physical and psychological, that never really ceased - it simply varied in intensity. One thing was certain; it grew a little more each day. I was startled to discover that my gaze would linger a little longer than usual if I saw a good-looking lady walking down the street, or if I happened to see an alluring woman on TV. It had been many years since I had not climaxed for such a long period, and the consequences were beginning to show. In essence, I had the same burning desire for sex - especially after being away from Angela for so long - but I now lacked the means to do so. I was starting to learn what the term 'sexual frustration' really meant.

Angela, always an intuitive lady, seemed to be mindful of my growing internal battle with my own libido, and she subtly tried to avoid arousing me. She would normally sleep naked, or with just a pair of panties on. I had often told her just how much I loved being able to feel her bare breasts against my chest, and how the simple fact that she was naked beside me always turned me on. Since I had arrived home, however, she had started wearing a light pajama set consisting of a cotton tee shirt and a matching pair of shorts. When she kissed me now, her kisses were still warm and loving, but they lacked her usual passion. She knew that a long, deep, wet kiss could make me hard - and so she refrained from doing it.

We retired to bed at about 11:00pm. I wore a pair of briefs over my bandaged member, and Angela was again wearing her pajamas. I slid my arm around her as we lay together, and a light waft of her perfume drifted over me. We began to kiss softly, and Angela responded hesitantly but warmly. I opened my lips, and when her warm, moist tongue slid into my mouth it was like a delicious electric shock.

Normally I would have begun to harden right at that point, but there was no stirring in my loins whatsoever. The buzz, however, suddenly tingled urgently like alarm bell, and an almost tangible vibration began in the pit of my stomach. I started trembling. I needed to taste her lips, her skin, her body... I needed to taste her cunt - now!

I slid my hand under her tee shirt and began to caress her breast as our kiss deepened. Her nipple instantly hardened as I rolled it softly between my forefinger and thumb. I felt her shudder softly, and she stifled a moan.

I began to lift her tee shirt, and she broke our kiss.

"Baby?" she whispered huskily. "What about your... your stitches. I don't want to make you hard."

"It's okay," I replied. "I won't get hard, hun. The pills I'm taking won't let me."

"But I can't please you," she protested softly.

"That may be true," I told her in a voice that shook slightly. "But since when does that mean that I can't please you? I want to please you, Angie. I need to please you!"

I had continued lifting her tee shirt during the exchange, and she suddenly raised her arms so that I could lift it completely off over her head. At last I gazed upon her magnificent breasts; they were as gorgeous as I had remembered them to be. I lowered my lips to her nipple, and she tilted her head back and sighed in pleasure as I sucked it. I began to kiss and lick every inch of her beautiful tits, slowly working my way down her body. My lips trailed down to her stomach, and I relished the taste of her soft, warm skin. I gently hooked my fingers under the waistband of her shorts and panties and began easing them down her long legs. Angela was now trembling softly, her right hand resting gently on back of my neck.

I slid her shorts and panties down to her ankles, and she drew her legs up so that I could remove them completely. I moved lower on the bed, maneuvering myself between her thighs. She parted her legs, and I gazed hungrily at the sight below me; she had opened before me like an exotic hothouse flower. I lowered my head down to her pubic mound and kissed it, feeling her neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling my nose and lips. Angela's hips rose upwards as my tongue slithered further down, and she lifted and parted her legs further.

"Oh, Michael," she breathed. "It's been so long... so long..."

Her scent filled my nostrils, and I extended my tongue and burrowed it gently between her pussy lips. Her juices welled up from within, and for the first time in over six months I tasted her delicious nectar. I drank greedily, savoring her, sliding my tongue deeper inside to scoop out more of her warm, creamy essence.

Angela uttered a long, almost painful moan. "Oh, Michael... Lick me... Please! It's been so, so long!"

I lifted slightly, locating her clit and softly spiraling my tongue around it. I glanced up over her mons pubis. Her pretty face was clouded with pleasure as my tongue teased and tickled her hard button. Her hooded eyes met mine, and I winked at her and then placed my lips over her clit and sucked it. Angela's whole body jolted on the bed.

"Oh, FUCK!" she gasped. "Oooh, Jesus! Do it, Baby! Please! Suck it!"

Her little button seemed to throb joyfully in my mouth, and I slid my left hand up between her thighs. Her cunt was soft and warm and slick with her juices as my index and middle fingers slid inside of her. She moaned and drew her legs back even further. The contractions of her vaginal muscles gripped my fingers tightly as I suckled her clit, my tongue rapidly swirling. She was going to cum - and soon.

I deliberately started to make slurping sounds, and added little moans of my own. This had always driven her wild, and it did so now. I felt her tense and her thighs started trembling. The fingers of her right hand slid down through my hair, and she gripped me firmly. I began to gently finger-fuck her.

"Yes! Oh, Baby, YES!" she implored. "DON'T STOP!"

I didn't stop. I sucked her clit a little harder, and flattened my tongue over it, gently rasping and sliding it against that incredible sensitive part of her. I could feel her whole body tense. I uttered another sensual moan from the back of my throat, and this pushed her over the edge. She tightened her grip on my hair, pulling my face harder onto her cunt.

"Oh, Michael... Oh, MICHAEL!... NOW!... NOW!... FUCK, YES!... I'M GONNA CUM!... AHHHHHHHH!"

Her cunt suddenly clenched tightly around my fingers like a vice, pulsing like a living heart. Her cream erupted from the depths of her pussy like lava as she climaxed, her legs twitching and jerking as orgasm flowed through her like a syrupy torrent. I released my suction on her clit, but kept my tongue gently swirling and dancing around it, maximising the waves of ecstasy rippling trough her body.

She uttered a final moan, and her whole body slumped, trembling and twitching. I very gradually slowed my spiraling tongue and eased my finger from her molten pussy. I slid my tongue down, sinking it deep inside her, feeling it stirring a molten well of her delicious juices. I briefly lifted my mouth from her.

"I want to suck you dry," I whispered huskily. "I want to drink you, to feel every drop of you sliding down my throat."

She gazed down into my face with eyes half-closed. "Then do it," she panted.

*****

Later, after I had eventually surfaced and slid back up to lay alongside her, she turned and wrapped her arms around me. She gave a satisfied stretch, like a cat awakening from a long nap.

"Enjoy that, baby?" I softly asked.

She smiled weakly. "Oh, honey, you have no idea - no idea - how good that was. It's been so long, baby. So, so, so long. And do you have any idea of how good you are at doing that?"

I grinned at her. "I ate a lot of tacos while I was away, just to keep in practice."

She giggled. "In that case, I think I'll start serving tacos here more often." Her face suddenly showed apprehension. "You're not hard or anything, are you?" she asked softly.

"No, hun. Everything's just fine." My cock had, in fact, remained disconcertingly flaccid the whole time I had eaten her.

Her smile slowly returned. "Okay, baby. I was really worried about making you hard."

"Is that why you've started wearing pajamas?"

A slightly guilty look clouded her face. "Yes. Well, it's one reason, anyway. I didn't want to excite you just in case those pills don't work. I know that it's very important that you don't get an erection right now."

"What are the other reasons," I asked.

She pondered for a few seconds. "I guess I felt it would've been insensitive and cruel of me to sleep naked beside you."

"Because we can't make love, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Baby," I replied. "Just because I can't make love to you right now or climax myself, it doesn't mean I don't want you to. In fact, it makes me want to please you even more. I need to please you."

She seemed to understand the latent message, and she nodded softly. "I guess I just didn't want to appear selfish, and I didn't know if you wanted to do anything right now. I know it must be so very difficult for you, especially after being away for so long. What happened to you is so unfair."

I smiled ruefully. "Yes - it is. But until it's all fixed, you know that I've always loved eating your pussy, and the accident hasn't affected my tongue, baby." I playfully licked my lips.

She sent me an impish grin. "So you don't mind eating a lot of tacos, then?"

I laughed. "The more, the better. You got any hot sauce to go with them?"

"You know I have," she replied cheekily. "As long as you're hungry, I'll keep serving them up, honey - with as much sauce as you can handle."

"Yum," I replied, licking my lips again.

Angela giggled again. "So I can ditch the pajamas?"

"Oh, yeah," I quickly agreed.

"Good - I hate the goddamned things!"

We spent the next fifteen minutes or so curled up together, softly talking about this and that. She had remained naked, and I took the opportunity to drink in the sight of her exquisite body. The buzz in my loins had strangely subsided slightly, as if Angela's climax had somehow soothed my own ardent yearnings. She eventually rolled over and lit a cigarette from the pack on her bedside dresser. She only ever smoked in bed after we had sex, and for some weird reason I always found it incredibly sexy when she smoked naked. This probably wouldn't have pleased the anti-smoking lobby, but they had no business interfering in my sex life, anyway.

Angela blew a thin stream of smoke out through her lips. She noticed my lustful gaze, and she turned to me and slowly smiled. "After I've had this smoke, I might go and cook something."

I blinked in sudden confusion. "Eh? Cook? Cook what?"

Her smile turned into a leer as she took another drag on her cigarette and winked at me. "Tacos."

A tingle rippled through me. "Why wait 'til you're finished smoking?" I asked softly.

Angela's leer broadened even more. She slowly drew her shapely legs up and parted them slightly, and her pussy winked invitingly out at me from the apex of her thighs.

"Good idea, honey. Come and get it, then - you don't mind if I smoke while you eat, do you?"

I sure as hell didn't, and I soon proved it to her.