The Wall

I was standing in our entry way, having gone there to lock the door before bed. I stayed to survey the room, and my husband walked into the bedroom without seeing me, because there is a tiny bit of a wall that blocked me from his view.

He came back out and I was just standing there, so he walked over to join me. I shared my ice cream with him, and when it was gone, he murmured "Hm, there is a wall here.."

And I was shoved against it. He took the empty ice cream container from my hand, and pressed me into the wall harder, face first. I grunted, taken by surprise. His hands wandered over my sides, my ass. He pushed the waist band of my pajama pants down, letting them pool at my feet. I felt his cock pressing into me from behind as he pinned me against the wall.

"Turn around," he told me. I did, and his lips settled on mine, his hand pinning my wrists over my head, his other hand wandering over my front, groping and squeezing, unbuttoning my shirt to pinch my nipple, making me moan softly into his mouth.

"Kneel down and suck my cock," he ordered, his fingers spreading against my scalp and tugging on my hair, hard.

I knelt down and took him in my mouth as he took two huge handfuls of my hair, pulling hard and shoving his cock deeper into my mouth, my throat. I gagged and he kept thrusting. He was talking, words were coming from his mouth. "Slut just kneels down and sucks cock wherever she is, doesn't she?" he rasped, clearly excited by the entire concept of using my mouth right in our entry way.

"Stand up," he told me after several minutes, tugging upward on the handfuls of my hair that he had. "I'm sure your knees would appreciate that." Since the entry way is linoleum and unpleasantly hard, he wasn't wrong. I rose to my feet somewhat unsteadily, assisted by his hand in my hair. His hand slipped between my legs and found me incredibly aroused. "Mmm, girl likes doing what she's told, doesn't she?" We kissed as his fingers explored my sex, making me whimper and dance a little. "Now what should I do with you? Bend you over the sofa?"

Yes, please, I thought but did not say. He kissed me again. "Or I could take you into the bedroom and put you on the ramp? Yes, go there."

I was confused. I thought we were doing this over the sofa. What? "What am I doing?" I asked, fuzzy, my ears roaring with rushing blood.

"You don't listen very well. To the bed, on the ramp," he said.

Who knew standing near a wall could start such a scene?

The things that turn my man on. Walls. Who knew?