The better to see him with

I have officially given my first blow job while wearing glasses.

You might be curious how this came about.

Late Sunday night, my husband, that fantastic man I married, interrupted my touching him with: "Hey, what if I were to ask you to trim my hair again?"

I had already given him a haircut, so logically I knew he wasn't talking about the hair on his head. I was pressed to his back, a hand tracing small circles there, and one hugging him, exploring the skin of his chest. Momentarily stunned, I pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder. "What, now?" I asked, glancing at the clock. 11:03, the giant blue numbers read.

"Yeah, is that weird?"

"It's kind of late. But sure, I'll do it," I responded. I'm not one to deny him anything he wants. I was naked; he'd asked me to take off my clothes when we first went to bed. I got up and started heading to the bathroom, grabbing his shaver on the way. "Oh, I should get my glasses," I remembered, making a little loop to grab them as well.

Like this.

"I'd feel better about that, yeah," he said, a tinge of amusement in his voice. I'm pretty blind without my glasses. Not as blind as he is, though.

Nude but for the glasses on my face, I knelt at his feet in our tub, and, leaning forward, took his cock in my mouth. He tasted good - clean, lovely, masculine. He had showered once already. He began to harden immediately. "Mmm," he said, his hands rubbing my hair gently, "who told you you could do that?"

"You did," I said, removing my mouth from his hard cock and turning on the shaver. Hard cock stays out of the way a little better, at least until it softens again. Ducking my head to see under him, I began my delicate task of trimming his pubic hair and shaving his balls. 

"I like to be appealing for you," he said as I carefully moved the trimmer over his balls. He's not a hairy guy, but he had plenty of it to remove.

We talked a lot while I carefully removed the hair in some places, and just trimmed it short in others. The hair itself doesn't bother me, but loose ones have been known to get stuck and find their way into my mouth and throat, and that's rather unpleasant. When I was about halfway finished, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and held it tight, just enough of a tug for me to be aware of it. He just held it like that as I worked, and I moaned.

"Is this distracting?" he asked.

"No," I murmured, intent on my task, then, moaning again, "yes. But no. It's distracting, but not in a harmful way."

"Good," he said, as he gave another little tug, emphasizing my position, making me ultra aware of it.

Finished, I set aside the shaver and grabbed the shower head, letting the warm water run over his belly, his cock, and his balls. I rubbed my hand lightly over the area to dislodge any hair that may be stuck, and rinsed away the curly bits from the tub between his feet. I'd tested the water's temperature on my own body, so there we both were, dripping as he replaced the shower head for me.

His cock looked fantastic. I took it back in my mouth and he moaned, hardening nearly instantly, his hands returning to tug on my hair. He dislodged my glasses, and in a gesture that touched as well as amused me, put them right again before he continued, pulling my hair, shoving his cock as far into me as he could.

When his cock was buried so far into my throat that I couldn't make a noise, my feet took over, making strange little flop-splash noises in the water that had puddled against my toes on its way to the drain. My hands fluttered against his legs, eventually clutching at his thighs for balance.

"You are my little cocksucker, aren't you?" he asked as I was clearly overcome with desire for him, for his cock in my mouth.

When he backed out of my mouth enough for me to make a noise, a long muffled groan of almost intolerable arousal emerged, my feet still flop-splashing with the intensity, my hands gripping the outsides of his thighs, my tongue swirling against his cock as it thrust into my face. I kept my eyes open, watching as his cock moved in and out of my face in a brightly lit focus I was unaccustomed to.

He arouses me so much with his words, with the way he exercises his power over me. "My cockslut, I love to fuck your face," he said as he held my head impossibly tight, along with dozens of other things that he just kept arousing me with, keeping my foot doing the thumping splash in the shallow puddle behind me, until he erupted, spilling the result of his own passion directly down my throat. I groaned as I kept sucking him, my knees beginning to feel the length of time they'd been kneeling, my legs absolutely trembling with arousal.

I wrapped my arms around his legs and looked up at him, my chin to his belly. I don't think he could feel the tremors racing through me, but they were.

"I love you," he said, gazing into my upturned face.

"I love you too," I responded adoringly, seeing him at this angle in focus for the first time.

He's just as awesome as I always thought he was.

Turns out seeing him in focus doesn't actually make that much difference.