Last night I was in bed first. I’m always in bed first. When it is bedtime, I am ready to go to bed. My wife was in the bathroom which was no surprise. She was either plucking eyebrows, or brushing her teeth or something. She always stalls. Bedtime to her is something to be delayed and put off.
“Are you asleep already?” she says as she gets into bed. I’m not but I stay quiet. She wants to talk because of course; she’s not ready for sleep just yet. I stay quiet, hoping she’ll just settle down. My wife puts her arm around me and lays her head on my shoulders.
That is when I smell strawberries.
Without a word I turn and kiss her. Without a single comment on my part I roll on top of her and lift her shirt and pull down her underwear. One nipple goes into my mouth while my hand plays with the other. They are both hard little nubs and they both taste of strawberries.
Years and years ago when my wife and I were first intimate, she was trying soft soaps for the first time. The first bodywash she used was strawberry scented. It was overpowering cheap stuff that smelled more like strawberry candy than real strawberries but that is the smell I remember when I first bit her nipple and she first reached down my pants.
I mount her. She’s giggling now. I am easily aroused but the fact that the strawberry bodyspray she bought can do this to me fills her with domme glee. My buttons have been pushed and now I am between her legs thrusting and growling as I bite her shoulder. In the back of my mind I know I should have done more foreplay but damn it, the strawberries are a green light and I have to fuck.
Fucking isn’t enough though. I smell strawberries and it makes me want to fill my mouth. I slip out and my wife groans. She thinks I have come back to my senses but a second later my mouth is on her sex and she knows I am still entranced. My tongue is wide against her sex and I am lapping every flavor I can.
I eat my wife out. She doesn’t taste like strawberries but the smell is still with me. I think of those first heady days when I played with her tits and marveled at how round and full they were. I think of the joys of moving her long blonde hair and finding new places on her neck to leave hickies. I think of the oh so very quiet way we would climax because we had roommates in the house. I think of open thighs and a pussy I never get tired of eating. I think of her lips around my cock. I think of fucking my wife.
I devour my wife and my memories. Her hands go to my head and she grinds against me. She pins me to her strawberry body as she fucks my face to climax. When she cums, it’s not the quiet whispers of youth, it’s the full throated growl of adulthood.
I sit up and wipe my face. In the darkness I can make out my wife laid out and exhausted. She fakes a snore. I laugh. I had consumed her last bit of energy. Now she is ready to go to sleep.
We cuddled and she makes a vague promise about tomorrow night. That’s okay. The last of my stamina is gone too and I can feel dreams begin to form on the edges of my brain.
I dreamed of strawberries.