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How Brett Learned To Stop Being An Asshole (f/m)

siamese dream

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Jun 27, 2002
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F/M & adult/sexual content.



"O Hiiii, love, I'm coming to get you...", cooed Meredith in her lilting, singsong soprano. She wriggled her fingers in a teasing, flirty little wave hello. "You cute helpless guy. Are you comfy? Would you like a sip of cold water before we begin?"

"That would be nice" he replied, and she lovingly tipped the cold-frosted mouth of the bottle of water to his lips, he took 3 healthy swallows, hissing "ahhhh" as she resisted the urge to upend that bottle over his shirtless torso and make him wear the rest of that icy water. There was a LOT that he needed to learn tonight, NOW, cannot wait longer. She tried to push aside her mounting seasick feeling at the enormous red flag of dumb cluelessness he had been utterly parading before her for almost 6 months now... The question which she knew could end in success and future happiness...or bitter tears, resentment, hatred even...and certainly the end, no question. If he couldn't change, understand... She knew, though her heart felt heavy and sickened by the knowledge, that it would be over. That it would also very likely get spectacularly ugly before it was over, too. She tried to swallow the sick doubt down and be optimistic. She didn't want that... She didn't. But he HAD to learn this, it was essential, it would make or break them tonight, and still, the doubt was gnawing.

"Ready to... tie me up and play with me baby??" he whispered in a tone probably shared by guys who stare at a stripper giving a lap dance while she tries not to roll her eyes and prays to God he tips well.

"Ohh, yesss, baby. I am gonna kiss and feel up your whole body and lick your cock til you cannot STAND it, mmm!" Meredith purred, as Brett's grin widened at her words and he whimpered happily as his cock already began to swell a little bit in his boxers.

She hated what she knew she had to do. He had no idea what was coming, and she dreaded how much he might hate her, blame her, never forgive her, even... for how she was going to have to humiliate him utterly, and explain things as if to a small child.... a small, stupid man-child who expected her mouth to soon work its magic on his cock til he exploded in euphoric release, and nothing more, and he had....no idea. Most of all, she HATED that part of her wanted to do only that, was even a little excited by the thought of just doing that, nothing more, letting him moan and writhe under her hands and in her mouth, then letting him snore away like a rusty buzzsaw with a bumblebee's nest caught somewhere in the gears... in his happy cozy man-child bed, tucked in next to her, clueless and blissful, while she laid next to him and wrung her hands and told herself that it wasn't that bad to put it off for one more day, it would probably be ok to just put it off til tomorrow...

But no. It had to be tonight. She couldn't bear this any longer. She couldn't let this feeling wait and fester in her heart and gut any more. He would learn, change, or tonight she would destroy his ego and crush his pride and wound his heart. Maybe in some cruel twist of fate, if he would not change for her tonight, if he refused to learn...by doing this evil and hurtful thing to him, breaking him utterly...maybe it would be the only way he might finally begin to learn at last. Not for her, the wounds would be too deep, they would truly be unable to mend what she broke... but, for whatever woman he managed to snag someday after her...God bless her poor soul.

"I'm ready for you, sexy." Brett groaned in happy anticipation, the poor clueless bastard. He was firmly cuffed to the 4 posts of the bed frame. She hoped so much for this to be simple, no argument, for his quiet, sheepish compliance. She knew her man, though... He wasn't likely to give it. The opposite...he was likely to throw an astonishingly embarrassing fit instead, and fight learning from her, as if what she would teach him tonight was an enemy he could see, and slay, and bury forever with his brutish masculinity alone. She, the Princess swooning to her knees and thanking him for saving her from her own annoyingly inconvenient needs, swearing to be his alone forever, no problem at all that he was an asshole. She would walk on eggshells forever to avoid one little crack in his ego that might split wide and show him the depth of his selfishness. The loving innocent Princess could of course zip her lovely lips tight, throw away the key, and be unselfish enough for the both of them. Of course she would... Princesses never complain about the Prince or the King or the Castle, or every black day in the Royal Bed... they're just thankful not to be wearing rags and scrubbing floors in the home of their evil stepmothers anymore. Right?

Well...he would hear her say her piece, and the eggshells would crack tonight, she knew. She'd slowly smash them down until they broke into pieces, she would stamp them some more until the Castle was littered with demolished eggshells and sticky bits of the Prince's arrogant pride that she'd wipe off the bottoms of her slippers with toilet paper, the proper paper for wiping up such utter crap from an ASSHOLE.

"Brett honey..." said Meredith in a voice sweeter than melted sticky candy. "I want to try something this time. Tell me, what do you think? It's okay if you don't like this idea", she cooed with girlish uncertainty, and held up a black, thickly lined satin face mask for sleeping. In this case, better described as a blindfold, for...not sleeping.

"Ohh...oh wow!", Brett gasped and his eyes lit up like Christmas morning. "YES, you bad girl, touch me and suck me while I can't see you or what sexy things you're going to do to me next!" he growled happily, and she slipped the blindfold over his eyes. She figured he would most likely go for it, but his enthusiasm for the idea actually surprised her a bit, and intrigued her too...she hadn't known he would be so downright eager to wear it, though she figured he would try it at least. Huh. Well, all the better, it made this easier. She hoped the rest might go so smoothly too. Probably not, but one can dream.

"Brett..." Purred Meredith. "I hope you're ready to get what's coming to you." As she spoke the next words, her purr turned to a growl, and then a snarl. "Do you have any clue what I am going to do to you? Do you, BRETT?", she spoke with a vicious flash of teeth as her upper lip curled, and her long, lovely french-manicured nails attacked his bare, big, flat feet as if to scratch smooth the creases from his soles. Her nails attacked his soles with fury. "Here we go"...she thought, taking a deep breath and preparing for extended warfare, absolute onslaught that would force his absolute surrender, her fingers driven to tickle-attack pirhana frenzy level by her long-suffering, slow-building rage.

The reaction, her husband's reaction to this...God, she almost grew weak with it, it was SO gigantic and so SHOCKED, and she felt herself grow warmer and softer. No, no, she had to stick to her guns, keep up the onslaught and give no quarter. This was war.

In the first half-second of battle, his mind and body had not quite synched up with his helpless soles and the utter Hell she was hailing down on them with those pretty nails...but then, in a snap like a twig breaking, everything caught up to everything else, and Brett said, "Hahaha baaahahaby, hey, hey, HEY, NOO!!" and by the end of that priceless little acceptance of her declaration of war, his voice had gone up a full octave at least, and then there was nothing but laughing and laughing from the gut, from the whole body, and then SHRIEKING, as Brett said "EEeeEeheeeehehe!!" in a squealing giggle mess so unmanly and raw that Meredith blushed and grinned with pleasure and tried to focus, harden her resolve because he HAD to learn, she could NOT be the weak one this time!

"Tickle tickle tickle, oh wait, you don't want me to tickle you? Too bad, I will anyway, I will tickle torture you til you cum...or, til you DIE. I haven't really figured out which one I would prefer yet. Because Brett, oh babe... I love you but you..are...an... ASSHOLE. And you're going to learn your lesson, to think before you open that cocky mouth, to think about something other than YOURSELF."

Meredith's fingers dug in, the battle ugly in the trenches now, and her husband was now absolutely hysterical, beet-red all the way from his hairline down to those frantic, scrunching and trembling soles. He was practically screaming with laughter, taking heavy fire from her hands and losing the battle most pathetically.

"Do you even know why I'm mad at you? Do you?? I really think it would be best for you if you answered, and that your answer is at least halfway in the ball park. God help you if you say "I don't know", Brett..."

It was probably best she had become carried away enough that she forgot to lighten the assault up quite a lot, so that he could actually speak in full words to answer. Otherwise, he surely would have howled "I don't know!!" to her question a moment before. Now they had a little hostile truce for a minute to discuss negotiations of his surrender ...she remembered, he needed air to speak. She lightened her touch and slowed her attack to a light bombing raid, truce on, and his total surrender would be the only negotiation she would accept.

"I... I.... Baby, I..." Brett stammered in shuddering, bewildered shell-shock. "I don't..."

"So HELP YOU if you say it!!" Meredith hissed, hands poised like claws to strike again.

"Ok, ok!!" Brett wailed in a kind of desperation, as he must have been searching to come up with a halfway decent guess at an answer. She felt another little warm sunny ray below her waist from hearing his naked panic. The fucking asshole had no clue. She grinned almost wider than he did when she had shown him the blindfold. Oops, forgot to tell him about the firing squad.

"Why, why, why am I mad at you? Tell me why you think I'm angry. You might want to take a moment to think about this, because the dumber and more completely wrong whatever answer you toss out there is, the more dearly I am going to make you suffer for it. Think about coming up with an answer that has some little bit of the correct answer somewhere in there, cause if it's so far from the real reason, that I have to stop and look at the heavens, and question why I married such a clueless asshole, again....I'll tickle you to death, Brett, I fucking swear ... I won't stop until you see the goddamn light at the end of the tunnel."

And even though he was unnerved at this rage, that his normally gentle wife had unexpectedly and clearly gone beyond the pale of any angry PMS-crazed psycho mood swing he had ever seen, to the point he was really pretty nervous if she might actually be driven to violence... Still...When she said that thing, that thing which should have only brought dread of whatever psychosis had possessed his sweet wife... The thing about... tickling him to death, til he saw the light... something in him leapt, or lurched, he was not sure which. It was partly anxious fear, like a spring winding tighter and tighter in his gut. But partly, thrilling, shivering down his spine, raising goosebumps on his arms and legs. Tingly, excited goosebumps, because his wife who he knew was really not at all like this crazed woman, who had always been sweet and kind, she had become temporarily insane somehow. She was threatening to tickle him until...

"You have five seconds to answer me, or I'm giving you the worst tickling of your life. Four... Three...."

Fuck, fuck, he thought..he had been so caught up wondering what possessed her, what had made her...want to do this to him...

"Two..."

"I... didn't..." Brett stammered, and his feral wife, eyes flashing, held off her countdown and stared at him with cold, expectant, hateful eyes, which already told him that no matter what he said, she would say he was wrong, she had a look that told him he was failing this test even if he solved the equation perfectly, because hot damn, she was so, sooo PISSED OFF! And he had to admit, he WAS clueless here, he really did have no idea why she might be THAT mad at him, mad like he had never seen her before, ever. What the fuck did he do???

"Not gonna wait all day here, Brett... Answer me. Now."

"I didn't...do something you asked me to. Like... something I said I would do a long time ago or you know, something like that, and you kept asking, heh, and I just forgot um, I forgot or I kept not...um..." Brett was stammering badly, and GRINNING too, for some reason that his brain couldn't find reason for. His mind screamed at him to stop fucking grinning at her because Jesus she's pissed! Stop smiling, it's a VERY bad time to be smiling at her! She might kill you dude, just be serious, quit, and do NOT laugh...

But he couldn't help it. The absurd grin on his lips refused to be bent back into a serious shape, and a nervous giggle, too, couldn't be choked back before it escaped his throat. And his wife, sweet Meredith, who was so pissed about something he did she had clearly lost her mind over it, narrowed her eyes and grinned right back.

"Why are you smiling about this? Do you think I am kidding with you? Is this a big joke to you? Because if you want to laugh at me, I can help you with that. I can start tickling you, and keep tickling you, and make you laugh til you think you might never stop laughing again...til it hurts, til your sides hurt, and til your stomach hurts, and then til it hurts to breathe too, because you can't stop laughing, and still I won't stop tickling you..."

As she spoke the words "Sides hurt", her nails dug into his sides, and he jumped and squealed, and she squeezed and drummed her fingertips, and he was yelping. And when she said, "Stomach hurts", her hands, her fingers, spread like the outstretched talons of a hawk about to reach and grasp its prey. The pretty claws grasped, and grasped again, and scrabbled over his belly, just like claws trying to find purchase on slippery ground, and then grasped and grabbed again, hard enough that each mauling grab at his ticklish belly made him yelp again and again in panic. He didn't catch entirely what she said after that, couldn't hear it over his howling like an animal caught in the teeth of some carnivore. The jaws that were French manicured nails which chomped and chewed and shook his flesh, and he was soon not howling and yelping but doing just as she said and laughing so hard, and laughing, and couldn't stop. He hadn't heard the last part of what she said at all, except one part... that it ended in "I won't stop tickling you." He wondered if he lived through this, would he be sane enough for it to matter? Because surely, she would drive him crazy too. Maybe he already was, crazier than he knew before, because unbelievably, incredously...he was being tortured, really fucking tortured...and yet...he couldn't think, couldn't stop laughing, but couldn't find any reasonable explanation for the sudden fact that he was as hard as a rock too, while his wife who had gone insane tortured him without mercy. He wondered if he would ever stop laughing, and also in disbelief if his dick would ever stop getting harder, it was so hard that it hurt, Fuck! ... he vaguely wished he could stop laughing, stop the aching in his ribs , and the clenching of his already sore belly muscles with his helpless, unbearable laughter that would not stop, as her fingers drove at every sensitive point again and again... If only she would just stop for a moment, give him a few seconds to enjoy a moment of male ego, because fuck he was harder than motherfucking Hell right now, he thought he might pass out from it, or from being tickled half to death... Oh my God, "Until you see the goddamn light at the end of the tunnel!" Oh my God... He might not have seen his dick this big and hard since he was in his early teens, it sort of sucked that he couldn't stop laughing and jerking spasmodically under his insane wife's nails to take a look at his hard-on and feel some small victorious moment of guy-pride in it ....and wondered why being tortured this way, tickled to death by the insane woman who was once Meredith ...was giving him such an epic erection, so hard he could swear it might cut glass at this point.

He could not speak, he was a mess of tormented, sweaty, screeching laughter as she tickled every spot she knew he was ticklish on his helpless flailing torso. But he desperately wished that he could say to his mad wife, "Meredith, sweetheart, please stop, please stop and look at me and let me breathe, please, look at what a state I am in because of you... Stop and then I promise, I will fuck you so hard, so hard ...fuck your pussy so hard and so good, that you'll finally forgive me, for whatever I did, and be my sane and sweet love again and you won't be angry at me anymore ... Or if you won't forgive me, if you really want to tickle torture me til I die, then... just let me die while I'm in your pussy, love, take me to the light in the tunnel, and tickle me to death as long as I can be inside you, cum inside you as I lose my mind...."

"Damn, baby...", Meredith murmured in a quietly impressed voice which was a little less venomous and filled with rage, and a little more like his normal, sane wife's voice... "Look at you..."

...He gasped in huge gulping breaths of air, heart hammering out of his chest, relief washing over his sweat-covered, flushed and shuddering body, as Meredith finally, finally relented, and stopped jolting him with her nails like a live wire over and over, and let him gasp in the sweet air and glance down where she was staring. Ah, the moment of manly pride, cause fuck he was gonna have to take a picture here to remember that his dick got this huge once....and then he chanced a nervous glance up at Meredith's eyes, which earlier were so viciously cruel, he might have genuine nightmares about her eyes like that...but now (she was looking at it too, guess it'd be pretty tough to not look, hehe) ...Now her eyes were still narrowed...but in a way that was thankfully not so terrifying, that was more like the Meredith he knew. There was amusement in those eyes, and yes.. desire, he thought (hoped) it was desire, trying to break through the rage and start to dissolve it, and bring her back to her senses again... (Did he want her to regain her sanity? Maybe she could stay a little bit crazy, not quite come back to her full sanity, but not full tilt nightmare madness like before either... just mad enough to scare and thrill him a little bit, not quite as much, but a little sure...) He knew she was still pissed, he could tell she wasn't done with him yet (yes, please don't be done with me yet, Meredith, I will have to piss you off more often baby, fuck!!) ... But why? He still had no idea. Even if he knew exactly why... would he have been ready to tell her he knew what he did and apologize? Or would that dissolve all the crazy away? Would you become your old self, before I can fuck you while you're so wild and strange, love, so fucking raging mad and beautiful?

Meredith, gaining more normalcy to her voice now as the anger started to drain into an odd mix of sadness and weariness in her tone, sighed "I just don't know anymore." The troops had been exhausted. The temporary ceasefire was called, battle-weary her warriors staggered off into the distance. She had won the battle, most definitely, she had absolutely annihilated the battle... But the war? She was losing her fire, and the upset and hurt and frustration that had stoked it up til she went mad, was slowly seeping back into her bones, her rage falling into pieces and crumbling like a battered wall, and letting the hurt make her weak and tired. She wished she had the fire, the will, to win the war too. No one had won, it was pretty much a draw since the reason she had unleashed Hell on him wasn't even out there in the air for the two sides to look at and negotiate any peace. No one won the war, but Meredith felt defeated. She took a huge, shaky breath, willing herself to hang onto a bit of the anger and not to cry, keep being mad because crying is so much worse, the worst thing she could do right now. Shit, was he still really so hard?? A little grin snuck across her face, and she quickly stuffed it away and told herself 'Stay PISSED', but she was a tad thankful that at least the shaky urge to start bawling had gone when she saw how hard he still was, and almost grinned. Smiling wasn't good yet either, but it was far preferable to crying. Anything but being so weak and emotional that I showed him my tears and had to endure simpering promises that "It will be ok", when NO it fucking WILL NOT until I say this, tell him, and he hears me, and tries, and really learns how to stop being such an asshole.

"I... didn't think that would happen, to be honest", Meredith said in a quiet, mostly-sane-and-normal voice. "I didn't realize that you would be turned on... I mean, I knew you were by..."

"Yeah", said Brett, laughing a little in a nervous but childishly giddy way, too high pitched for a grown man. She quickly stuffed down another sneaky grin trying to steal across her lips at his silly, too-high giggle. "Yeah...I... It's weird", he admitted with a sheepish grin. "I was always turned on by...you know, lighter stuff...that we usually do..."

"Like this?", she teased, grinning openly now, and barely tracing her nails along his inner thighs, which caused him to let out another giggle, followed by a moan so desperate-sounding it seemed nearly obscene. Meredith blushed and felt warm and glowy and weak again... 'Fuck, no, but this HAS to be said', she scolded herself, 'DON'T go getting all soft now, if you wimp out and leave this again then maybe you will never unload...this weight...from your shoulders. The weight... Crushing your heart inside the ribcage. Crushing your heart. You can't back down. One last stand, he MUST know this. Or else I ...can't do this, we can't make it work. Because I can't live like this anymore.'

She tried to gain back a little of her rage by cursing the tears she felt burning under her eyelids to the deepest depths of Hell, and told herself, 'Do NOT do not cry, fuck your tears, go to Hell tears, and evaporate in the fire and stop coming back and making me look weak and stupid!'. Meredith sniffled.

Brett was starting to lose the epic manly pride now as Meredith had seemed to get lost in thought and forgot he was still hanging in the air, hard and needing her...so he wanted to get Meredith to just tell him what the hell he did to make her mad so he could say sorry and they could fuck already, but while his impatience broiled, he suddenly noticed her face. His sweet wife's face that looked... Miserable. Manly pride, gone like a deflated balloon. Fuck...Was she crying?? She was really upset, what the hell had he done??


"Hey...baby?? What's wrong? Please just tell me. I don't know why you were mad, but, whatever I did I'm sorry, and it will be alright, I promise, I will make it up to you, it'll be ok sweetheart..." Brett said earnestly, wishing he could pull his arms free to hold and comfort her. What was it? Why was she so upset at him?

Meredith looked at him...no tears bloomed on her cheeks, but they loomed, burning her eyes, making her vision blurry. She willed them to die in a fire again, to fizzle in Hell and not spill down her face... 'Rage', she thought, 'Hold on to it and don't fucking cry and look like a sissy little crybaby when you tell him this. Scare him again, don't let him shush you like a little baby, keep holding that RAGE ...'

Meredith took a deep breath, and her voice was emotionless when she finally spoke... But her eyes were suddenly not so misty, and had a little more of the fire starting to rekindle and crackle with anger rather than sadness.

"So... whatever it is. You are gonna make it up to me...hm? Ok. Sure." She was speaking in a flat tone edged with sarcasm. Passive-aggressive. Fuck , he hated when she was passive-aggressive. It pissed him off almost faster than anything else she could do, but to get mad and end up in a worse fight... Well. He considered if he could maybe bring back the demon that took over his wife before, long enough for her to fuck and tickle him out of his mind at least, if he went ahead and snarked back at her, picked a fight, just a little fight... But... No, he thought of that miserable teary-eyed face he had seen, and knew that whatever this was, she was hurt, she was really hurting over something he did...or maybe didn't do... And the hurt, he knew suddenly, is what had actually summoned that wicked thing into Meredith. And wildly exciting as it was... He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted her to be alright, to not be extinguishing her tears with cathartic rage, whatever might have brought this all on...

"Meredith, just talk to me, please, ok? Just tell me baby... How can I make this better, how can I get you to forgive me? What did I do that has you so upset, love? I want you to be ok, I want you to not be mad at me anymore, so please just tell me what I need to do to fix this and I will do it..."

"Brett".. she said in a tone still flat but threatening to quiver with tears again... "I don't even know how to say this to you..."

Oh shit, Oh Hell no, this is bad, is she about to ... Ask for a divorce, leave me?? What in the hell did I even DO ??

"Honey?"...he asked cautiously...."Whatever it is...we can make it ok again, I can make it ok and fix this, I would do anything for you baby, you know that." Inside his dread rolled over and over in his guts.

"Brett... I need you.. to learn to stop being such an asshole. Such a fucking, selfish, fucking ASSHOLE!!" she shouted suddenly. There was the angry demon in Meredith again, popping in to say hi for a second there, just to let him know it wasn't gone...
Hmm... How do I make this work so I can like...coax that shit out a little, but not enough that she kills me, or divorces me, just enough that she fucks the living hell out of me but doesn't go bonkers on me again?? Fuck...this can't really end well if I mess this up... Ok...here we go.

"Hey. Why are you calling me an asshole? I am sorry that I hurt you, and yeah, I must be pretty clueless, because I still have no fucking idea what I did, baby. So please, just tell me, because I went tonight from being afraid you might actually literally kill me, to wanting you so goddamn bad I could hardly stand it... To feeling awful, sickening fear when you started almost crying and said you did not know how to say this to me... and I wondered...if you were about to...." He looked away. "Say you didn't want to be with me anymore. And that would break my heart. It really would. So, this night, has been quite an emotional roller coaster for me too, and I would like to get off the ride now, or at least know what the fuck this was all about. Ok??"

Meredith shot him a withering look. "You should go back to the part where you said you wanted me so bad you could hardly stand it. Say that part again. Say it again and ask yourself how long it has been... since you felt like that about me, Brett... Since you wanted, ME, so bad, wanted me...not wanted me to blow you or give you a quickie while I try to get ready for work and then act like a pouty little jerk if I say no, or...even if I do it! If I am not soooo into it, if I don't do everything you want me to do, to make you cum everywhere at any time you decide that you want it, then you get this little tone about how I could at least act like I enjoy it, and do you fucking know how bad I just want to smack you in the face, when you say that stupid shit, you damn asshole?? Think about it... How long... since you wanted ME? Not a person to come running when you're horny to get your rocks off. Me, Brett."

He swallowed hard. He always wanted...her...but the guilt creeping told him that self-justification would not make that little gnaw of guilt go away that had started tearing slowly into his gut, when he realized she had a fair point. Tonight he had felt raw desire for her, his wife, or whatever the thing that took possession of her was and tickled him half to death, and made him too hard to even think straight, dizzy with wanting her. The other times she mentioned...he wanted....well, he was horny. He wanted her to do things with him, she was his wife, that should count...right? The guilt bit down a bit harder.

"Baby... tonight was... Weird. I don't know what it was that came over you, but then, I have no fucking idea what came over ME too, and yeah...it was really...weird, but hot... maybe I was...Maybe I have been acting like a selfish asshole. Are you saying I don't give you enough attention in bed? I can do better, I promise... I want you to love it as much as me..."

Meredith scoffed. Ice cold look in her eye: "I really think you are a lying asshole now, and not only don't give a fuck if I love it as much as you... You don't give a fuck...if I even love it at all anymore. Ever. As long as you get yours, right? That's why I was mad. That's how it has been with you, always how you are. For SIX...fucking ...months. You know how many orgasms you have given me in the last six months?? Take a wild guess, babe." Her tone was caustic...but also filled with the sadness he saw when her eyes had gone teary and her pretty lower lip all quivery. Shit. She was saying I don't satisfy her in bed anymore??? Fuck, that ...that isn't good. He really DID feel like an asshole now. His cheeks flushed ashamedly. "I... I don't really know how many babe....I mean...maybe like 20 or so?"

"HA!", Meredith snorted. "No. Lower."

"Umm..." He was blushing hard now. Had she really been so unsatisfied for months?? ...fuck. "Like...10 or so...?"

Shake of the head no.

"Nine?" Another humorless snort. Shake of the head no. He felt like maybe guessing anymore was a bad idea as he blushed with shame and guilt, wondering if maybe ...if she had...in six months...at all. He didn't want to guess zero. The huge, cold iceberg that erupted in his guts told him that the answer was zero. Fuck, shit, fucking damn it!! This was humiliating, to realize his wife had gone crazy on him and then cried, and now she was blushing as dark as he was, because she didn't want to be the one to say zero either, but they both knew it was zero, it was all over BOTH of their faces now, both faces, burning up with insecurity and failure... Failure.

"Babe..." He whispered. "I am really sorry. I will... We can change that, ok? I can...try more..."

"You need to try a LOT more, love, a lot more."

"I can, I can... I will." He said, firm resolve now in his voice. "I promise I will. I didn't... I didn't know it had got...that bad. I'm really sorry."

She sighed heavily. "And I'm really sorry for going nuts on you before, and I'm sorry...that I had to tell you that. I know it probably wasn't an easy thing to hear."

"No baby, no, don't you apologize for telling me...yeah, it totally sucked to hear it, I am fucking embarrassed about it...but I wanted you to tell me. I would always want you to tell me...if... If something like that was going on. Baby, I want you to cum. I want to make you cum, I really do...I want you like crazy, I want you to get off like crazy for me. I feel like a total douchebag for being lazy about that in the first place, cause God, you're so sexy and I want you to be happy, and I want you....I want you. I will start to make it up to you....if I can...um... just as soon as you would like."

"I would like you to start now, love." She had climbed on top of him, and then her long nails were playing with him, slowly and softly, then harder, and faster, as he squirmed in their bed with his hot, sexy wife on top of him and tickling him. He saw her little smirk...and the little glimmer in her eyes...the wicked lust in Meredith, just giving him a little wink, to let him know that she might not have entirely gained her sanity just yet...

"I was really really mad at you earlier, but now, baby, I am really really horny for you... Horny as a woman who needs six months worth of making it up to me.... I think that I'm going to tickle you again, til you get as hard as you were before, and then I will let you go, and you can lick my pussy til I cum, until I am cumming from your tongue and your hands on me..." She put her own hands on her breasts, caressing and looking at him in the eyes, as if to show him just how his hands should be, and then she pressed her body to his, her hips so hotly pushed against his. He breathed in and out faster, thinking of how he would pleasure her and make her love it, make her cum when she let him go...and let him lick her til she came....

He was already approaching the epic levels of hardness he had achieved before. "Then what should I do next baby??" he breathed in her ear, when she leaned over him and poised her fingers to launch a gentler strike on his ticklish thighs again... he was breathing so fast...his heart was pounding in his ears...

"Then...you should close your eyes and pray that when I'm done fucking the last six months away, you aren't half dead, baby... unless I decided to tickle you half dead again first, and then maybe I'd fuck you until I finished you, but if I don't finish again first baby, after you make me cum with your tongue...if I don't cum again, if you can't control yourself from cumming first while I ride you....while I fuck you like I haven't had a good fuck in way too long..." Her grin was huge, ear to ear.... "If you don't make me cum again, if you explode first... and I know you have been just dying to get off, for sooo long...but no, you aren't going to until I say so, cause I think you need to get a little perspective about what it feels like to wait ... And wait.... And wait to cum, but have to make me cum first, and not get to yet...."

Brett's head was swimming; he had never heard her talk like this to him in bed before, and he was so turned on that he really had serious doubts if he wouldn't cum within seconds of getting inside her pussy that he wanted so, so bad now...but he would try...he'd try to fight it back...and make her cum again first... because, if he didn't...then...

"What will happen if I...if I can't stop it baby??" He murmured softly, and didn't care what it was, but was pretty sure he might have trouble holding off until he even got to fuck her now, at the thrill that pulsed through his cock and made it ache so sharply that he moaned with helpless desire... "I want you so much that I can't stand it, I want you so much...."

She grinned and whispered, "If you cum first before I get my second one while I ride your hard cock...til I'm shaking and my wet pussy has the biggest orgasm that makes up for the last six fucking months, then...well, God help you then Brett. Because I'll get you for it, and I won't let you forget... I will teach you a lesson and you'll learn it... Or I won't stop tickling you, and tickling you, and as soon as your dick gets hard again I will fuck you until I decide you've learned your lesson, if it takes hours, and I have to tickle you until you scream your head off for me to stop.... and when I fuck your hard cock, ride you as soon as possible after you break my rules by cumming before me...even if you are so sensitive still that you scream for me to stop fucking you because you can't take it.... You are going to learn your lesson... If it takes ALL... NIGHT. You're going to make me cum again and again, and you're going to do what I tell you, baby...Aren't you??"

"YES!!", he moaned, and he had never meant anything more passionately in his life.
 
Is his name Brett because of Kavanaugh? LOL

Nah, I didn't even think of that :D ..it was just a random name (I feel like I am horrible at coming up with fictional names, that's why a lot of my older ones had only "him", "her", unnamed characters) lol
 
Thank you for writing and sharing this, Siamese. ^ ^

It's been some time since a story here has reminded me of what I think some people refer to as "classics," focusing less on predictable action and more on the exploration of the underlying psychological realm. Something profound is happening to someone for the first time, they're not sure why it's happening, thus the story is largely about the initial moments of their search for that understanding.

That, on both Brett and Meredith's parts, made me remember how much I miss that kind of thing in erotic stories – the feeling an author wants to invite others in who don't already share their feelings and offer the change to survey some part of the experience of having them – largely the reason I came to appreciate them myself.
 
Holy wow! This is some erotic, HOT story. You definitely have a way with words and crafting emotional and yet arousing scenes. Hope to read more! :)
 
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