THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG

ONE MINUTE MAN

Rachel lay next to Paul on the king sized bed in their matrimonial room.

She couldn't sleep, she kept on turning over and over on the bed. She feel sweety even though she had showered some minutes ago.

Are you okay? Paul asked his wife who was busy struggling with the sheets.

Do I look okay! Was her response.

Paul turned to face her. Do you want me to touch you? Paul asked. He knew his wife, her s****l desires were way bigger than his.

Rachel stared into his eyes, she wanted to laugh but she held it in. Paul didn't even know how to touch a woman, he didn't know the right places to please a woman not to talk of making her wet.

If you don't mind. She replied.

Paul moved closer and kissed her, Rachel wanted him to hurry and do his thing, after all if he lasts more than five minutes it will be a miracle.

He broke the kiss to look at her, she smiled at him as if he took that as a sign of approval, he leaned over and kissed her. His lips were warm and a little dry. She could smell the faint scent of his soap mixed with the clean cotton of his nightshirt. Something she was used to.

She kissed him back out of habit, already knowing how the night would end. His hands slid under her thin nightgown, palms slightly rough as they pushed the soft fabric up her thighs. The cool night air touched her bare skin for a second before his body covered her. He tugged his own shorts down, and she felt the heat of his c**k brush against her inner thigh.

He climbed between her legs and rubbed the head of his c**k against her p***y. She was only a little wet, not because of him but because she had been fantasizing about touching herself before this. When he pushed inside, she felt the slow stretch, the warmth of him filling her, but there was no real spark just the familiar pressure.

He started thrusting, breathing hard already. The mattress creaked softly under them. She could hear the quiet, wet sound of him moving in and out, and the way his breath grew heavier near her ear.

"Does it feel good?" he asked against her neck, his voice low and hopeful. His chest pressed warm against her breasts through the nightgown.

"Yeah," she answered quietly, the same answer she always gave, she didn't want to hurt his feelings. Her hands rested on his back. She felt the dampness of sweat starting to form on his skin, the way his muscles tensed with every short thrust. She just waited. He will be done soon, she thought.

He moved faster, his thrusts short and uneven. She felt him getting thicker inside her, the quickening pace she had learned to recognize. A few minutes was all he ever lasted. The room was quiet except for his uneven breathing and the soft slap of skin.

He groaned and pushed deep, his body stiffening as he finished inside her. She felt the hot pulse of his c*m filling her while she stared at the dark ceiling, the weight of him heavy on top of her. When he pulled out and rolled off, a thin coolness spread between her legs where his release leaked out. He was breathing heavily, one arm loosely over her waist, the heat of his body still close.

"That was good," he said, already half asleep. Sometimes she wondered how he enjoyed this.

She didn't answer. She was used to this. He tried, he always tried, but it was never enough. The nightgown stuck slightly to her skin from the thin layer of sweat between them. She simply pulled the fabric back down, felt the sticky wetness on her thighs, and closed her eyes, unsatisfied once again.

Her mind drifted to the events of this morning. If Evelyn's husband could give her the hot, wide s*x she craved for while not switch. After all, she was the one that brought up the idea. Oh God, help me. She muttered.

She opened her eyes and looked in Paul's direction. The man was sleeping soundly, he must be tired of the few minutes he groaned on her.

She stood up and gently walked to the wardrobe where her clothes were. She opened a medium sized bag filled with undies, she felt inside it and brought out two plastic stuffs from under the undies. She made her way back to the bed and lay gently on where she stood up from, she didn't want to wake Paul.

She waited until his breathing turned more deep and even.

She held the smooth non-vibrating dildo and the small butt plug she used when she needed more. This wasn't her first time, but it was becoming a routine anytime Paul did his minute work on her.

She moved slowly so the mattress wouldn't shift too much. First she pressed the tip of the plug against her ass, already a little slick from earlier. She pushed it in inch by inch, biting her lip against the tight stretch and the full pressure that spread through her. When it finally settled inside her, she let out a quiet, shaky breath.

Next she took the dildo. It was firm and thick, cool at first against her p***y. She rubbed the head between her folds, feeling how wet she had become just from the plug alone. Then she pushed it inside herself in one slow slide. The double fullness made her toes curl.

She kept her movements small and controlled. Her free hand gripped the sheet tightly as she f****d herself with the dildo, rolling her hips in tiny circles so the bed wouldn't creak. The plug shifted deeper every time she moved, sending sharp little sparks of pleasure up her spine. She could feel the stretch in both places, the heat building fast between her legs, the wet sound of the dildo moving in and out of her almost too loud in the silent room. This lifeless cold plastic was more better than his d**k.

The first orgasm hit her harder than she expected. Her p***y clenched tight around the dildo while her ass gripped the plug. She pressed her face into the pillow to muffle the soft, broken moan that tried to escape. Her thighs shook. Wetness dripped down onto the sheets. She didn't stop.

After a short rest she started again, slower this time, dragging the dildo almost all the way out before pushing it back in deep. The plug felt heavier now, every small movement making her stomach tighten. Sweat gathered at the small of her back. She could smell her own arousal in the dark. The second orgasm rolled through her in strong waves, her free hand flying up to cover her mouth as her body pulsed and squeezed around both toys.

She was breathing harder now, careful to keep it quiet. Her nightgown was pushed up to her waist, the fabric damp with sweat. Beside her, Paul still slept, completely unaware.

She f****d herself a third time, chasing the feeling she never got from him. The dildo slid easier now, coated in her wetness. The plug stayed deep and firm. When the last orgasm finally broke over her, it left her trembling, thighs sticky, p***y fluttering, the plug still seated tightly inside her ass.

She stayed still for a long moment, chest rising and falling, the toys still buried in her body. Then, slowly and carefully, she eased them out, wiped herself with a tissue from the nightstand, and hid everything under the bed, she was going to put them back in their original place tomorrow, is not like Paul will look under the bed.

She pulled her nightgown down, turned onto her side, and closed her eyes, finally satisfied while he slept on beside her. Thought's of Marcus filled her head.