Payton's Passion Read online

Page 5


  She sat up and, before her searching fingers found the switch on the bedside lamp, Andy’s big hand cupped her breast.

  “Wow, babe—“ he declared as his roughened palm danced over the soft mound, “I can’t believe that after all these years, your pussy is still as tight as it is. You’d never know that you’ve had three kids.”

  The sudden glare of light caused both of them to squint when the lamp flashed on. Payton rose from the bed, crossed to where her shabby bathrobe lay in a heap on a chair, and shrugged the garment around her naked shoulders just as her husband’s low whistle of appreciation met her ears.

  “Hey, Payton—” he rumbled from the bed.

  She hid the irritability in her blue gaze and glanced over her shoulder.

  Andy watched her with a gleam in his eye.

  “You’ve got one great ass.” He reached down and pulled at his flaccid penis. “How about you come back here and rub it on me. I’m sure I could get it up for another fuck.”

  Her shoulders instantly fell with a silent sigh. That’s what he always calls it—fucking. Couldn’t he at least once use the words ‘making love’?

  A wry smile curved her lips to cover up the sting of the word he used, and she shook her long, blonde hair. “You’re out of luck, big guy.”

  “Oh, come on, babe,” he whined.

  “Nope,” she returned, “I’ve gotta get up for work tomorrow.”

  “Hell! So do I.”

  Payton tightened the cotton sash around her waist as an exasperated sigh crossed her lips. “Yeah, but you don’t have to put the final touches on a budget proposal. I’ve worked like crazy on it for two weeks and it’s still not done. Andy, I work for a huge corporation that doesn’t care if you get laid for a second time tonight.” She sighed again. “Thank God it’s Friday tomorrow—I’ve had a hellish week at work, and I’m exhausted. All I want to do is make it through one more grueling day, then I can sleep in on Saturday.”

  Andy gave her that little boy look he was so good at. “Sure I can’t change your mind?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be right back.”

  Payton opened the door, and he watched her sumptuous figure disappear into the hallway. His easy smile turned instantly into a frown when the doorway was empty. He flipped onto his flat stomach and smacked his pillow with a closed fist.

  “Shit,” he mumbled to the empty room, “when are we going to get this right again?” A second later, he flipped back to stare at the ceiling, wondering if he should entirely blame himself. Once again, Payton hadn’t experienced the pleasure of an orgasm—no matter the small moans that emitted from her slender throat or the hip motions meant to try and fool him. But, no matter that she didn’t come once again, Andy could not hide the pleasure he found inside her body.

  He had tried since the beginning of this week to have everything done for her so she wouldn’t be so damned tired. He knew she appreciated every ounce of effort, but still didn’t seem too enthused to have a little romp before Saturday night. We’re like an old couple with our Saturday night fucks. When the hell did that happen? Tonight he’d whispered breathless, dirty words into her ear in an attempt to increase the passion of the typical bedroom episodes. It was something that used to turn her on. Now? Nothing. Zero. Zip.

  Andy battled his own frustration at being unable to draw his wife into a gratifying sexual encounter. Somehow, he had to discover a way to fix this one important missing part of their marriage—the part where two people found complete enjoyment in one another’s bodies.

  “Christ,” he muttered aloud again, “I don’t know what the hell else I can do to prove how much I love her…to show her how much she turns me on.” A quick picture of her lying naked beneath him flashed in his brain. Andy got hard again with just the thought. She had a way of doing that to him at the oddest moments of the day. He couldn’t even watch her vacuum without becoming aroused.

  He ran a hand through his thick dark hair, squeezed his eyes shut, and willed away his erection. Baby—I can only hold out so long when you’re under me.

  Andy understood that Payton wasn’t frigid and never had been. She was simply too consumed with family and work to see what she was doing to not only herself, but to their sexual relationship.

  He remembered the many times he quelled his own needs, trying to get her to respond to his gentle ministrations, his adoring hands, and his wild kisses. When he asked if she liked something in particular—like sucking on her breasts, or if he worked her clitoris to assure she would come when he was inside her, she would simply shake her beautiful blonde head on the pillow and tell him to hurry up.

  A couple of times over the last year, he persuaded her to watch porn with him, but eventually her cheeks would flame with embarrassment and she would ask him to shut the television off before the kids woke up.

  Andy sat up, punched his pillow one more frustrated time, and settled back into the softness. Over the last couple of years, they had lost the special sexual communication they’d always had between them. Now he was at a loss as to what to do to make things better for his wife.

  Chapter 7: Payton’s Problem

  Payton poked her head through the baby’s doorway and was assured that Sara slept soundly. A few more steps brought her to the boys’ bedroom. They too, were sound asleep. Glancing at the floor, she tiptoed past the twin beds, spent five minutes picking up the toys strewn across the carpet, then turned and pressed soft kisses on each of her sons’ forehead. A moment later, she exited the room and retraced her way past the master bedroom suite. Andy lay motionless in the rumpled bed.

  Hmmp—so much for another round. Good, I’m too damn tired anyway…and, besides, there’s a quicker way… She continued down the wide hallway.

  Payton closed the bathroom door behind her, turned the lock as she switched on the light, then spun the dimmer knob until the room was bathed in a soft glow. She moved to stand before the rectangular mirror above the vanity. Her gaze studied the reflection in the mirror. Indecision sparked momentarily in the blue eyes that stared back at her before her bathrobe was slowly opened to reveal heavy breasts with huge dark pink nipples, a flat stomach, and gently curving hips.

  As her hands fondled the breasts reflected in the smoky glass across from her, Payton’s mind wandered. She loved Andy with a passion. He was a great father, a husband who supported her in everything she did, and a wonderful provider.

  His one fault, though, led to these sporadic nightly forays in the bathroom. For some reason, he wasn’t the best of lovers anymore; he never gave her time to catch up with him. Just when she felt she was ready to meet him, he came and the session was over. Consequently, she had to take care of her own orgasm or spend another hour in his arms. If Andy came once, then resumed another session of sex, he could go on forever. These days, she just didn’t have the energy.

  The times she actually came when his erect, long cock was in her were few and far between. He simply never waited for her anymore. He would be done, and she would be ready to go.

  Payton’s bright gaze followed her hand in the mirror as it left her breast and traveled along the smooth tautness of her abdomen. Her fingers brushed across the golden curls of her pubic hair. Her stomach muscles immediately clenched and her mouth dropped open in response. She knew if she inserted a finger into her pussy, still wet from Andy’s semen, it would only be a matter of seconds before she would be grinding against her hand.

  My mother would die if she knew I masturbated on a regular basis. She tossed away the thought. In this room, behind the locked door, she could be whatever she wanted to be and find her own pleasure.

  She ran her right palm lightly again over the curly pubic hair, whisked a finger quickly across the moist folds of her body, and teased an erect nipple with the fingers of her free hand. The action was enough to make her sag against the tiled wall behind her.

  Payton was tuned now to the simple erotic pleasure of kneading her hands up and down the front expanse of her well-shaped
body. She observed her breasts swing gently in the mirror as she bent forward to stroke the skin of her firm inner thighs, always hesitating at the opening of her pussy. She teased herself mercilessly by refusing to dip her finger into the moist darkness. Her clitoris throbbed with the burning need to come.

  She turned completely away from the mirror, looked back over her shoulder, and lifted the heavy mane of blonde hair, letting the silky strands fall sensuously across her shoulders. Payton reached behind her and massaged the round spheres of her tight ass that Andy loved so much. She closed her eyes and pretended the sensuous strokes were her husband’s hands that now caused her to drip with excitement. Her body screamed to have something inside it.

  Unable to wait any longer, Payton flipped back around to face the mirror and shoved a finger of her right hand into the slippery heat of her vagina. The index finger of her left hand became Andy’s in her mind, and she flicked her clitoris until a low moan escaped from between her lips. Another deep groan echoed off the tiles. She became weak-kneed and came immediately in hot waves that ran from her fingertips up through her belly.

  Payton collapsed to the carpet-covered floor, leaving her finger inside her body in order to feel the last hot throbbing vibration of her climax. She clenched and unclenched her pussy lips around its slender length until at last her heart slowed and she was able to breath normally again.

  Her head lolled against the wall and a sigh escaped from her lips. If only Andy could make me feel this way…I would have the perfect marriage again.

  Payton pondered her situation. She found it hard to believe that any woman would have to masturbate on a regular basis to get off—especially when a hunk of a man like Andy lay waiting in her bed.

  She flushed slightly with guilt. Is it really Andy who isn’t a good lover, or is it me? It’s so hard to switch gears at the end of the day. Payton rubbed her forehead, trying to find the courage to admit the real problem.

  It was she who had to spend a few minutes in the bathroom after he came in her. Andy always gave her a chance, but in reality, for some odd reason, she couldn’t get past the thought of endless files in her desk or mapping out rides for the kids to various school events. It wasn’t until she entered the serenity of the dimly lit bathroom and concentrated on her body, that she was able to relax.

  Something had to be done to fix this—and it would be up to her. It amazed Payton that Andy could enter a room and just his appearance would set her heart on fire. The women she worked with nearly swooned like Southern belles when he visited her at work. Most times, he was simply surprising her with a luncheon invitation, or had found the time during the day to drop off a rose for no reason whatsoever.

  His dark swarthy looks, muscular chest, and arms that bulged beneath his shirt drove them all wild. Those silly women always asked what it was like to be screwed by him. She’s sit silently at her desk, refusing to answer, amazed at their bluntness. Many times she could hear them in their cubicles giggling that he made their panties moist, that just the sight of him made them horny as hell. They all thought she was the luckiest woman in the world…

  And I would be if I was simply better in bed or could at least find a way to get synchronized with him.

  Payton pushed herself up from the floor, wrapped her robe around her slim body, clicked off the bathroom light, and returned to the master bedroom. She slid beneath the covers and relished the immediate warmth of her husband’s body. He lay on his side and faced the wall. Tentatively, she wrapped her arm around his muscular chest and breathed in the scent of his skin. Andy automatically grasped her small hand in his large one and tucked it close, then sighed contentedly in his sleep.

  Andy, I promise you that I’ll try to make things better for us…

  Chapter 8: The Guilt

  The following Thursday evening, Payton trudged up the stairs to flop into bed. The horrendous week was nearing an end. Somehow, she’d managed to revise another budget proposal over the course of three days when the first one was rejected.

  “That rotten bastard,” she mumbled to the stairwell. “‘Sure!’ he says, ‘Our Payton didn’t realize…blah, blah, blah.’ What our Payton really didn’t realize is that she doesn’t have a life anymore.” She was so tired from the fourteen-hour days that she was numb. “If that asshole hadn’t accepted this last proposal, I think I would’ve punched him in the face.”

  She opened the bedroom door and spied Andy, who was sound asleep amidst the rumpled sheets and blankets. Her gaze took in the dirty pair of socks strewn across the dresser and his slacks in a pile on the floor.

  Payton was just about to wake him up and give him hell, but instead flopped into a chair and stared at him. His thick, dark hair was tousled against the pillow. Her gaze followed his broad, naked shoulders, and then down the smooth line of his back to where a hint of his buttocks peeked above the edge of the sheet.

  She leaned back, ran the fingers of both hands through her blonde tresses, and sighed heavily. In another life, she would strip naked, jump in bed beside him, and probably play with his penis until his erection woke him up. Now? No way would she chance waking him. All she wanted to do was sleep the blessed sleep of the dead.

  Payton couldn’t discount how sweet Andy was the entire week. Her gaze dropped back to the wrinkled slacks on the floor. So? What if he didn’t hang them up? Every night this past week, he’d cooked the meals for the kids, cleaned up the dishes, and even washed clothes and never complained once. Payton knew he did those things to make her life easier. Her husband understood the stress she was under.

  And what do I do? Nothing—absolutely nothing. Not even a thank you kiss.

  Payton battled with herself. She should climb in beside him and give him some great sex. A tiny smile appeared on her lips. Wouldn’t that surprise the hell out of him?

  Her mouth opened in a gaping yawn. “But, not tonight.”

  She heaved herself from the chair and crossed to the master bathroom. It wasn’t long before she came back through the doorway with one of Andy’s t-shirts on and climbed into the bed.

  As she pulled the bedspread over her shoulders, Andy raised his head from the pillow. He’d never even heard her come in.

  He rolled to his opposite side, drew her close, and spooned around her. “Hi, Baby. Are you just getting in?” He nuzzled the thick length of her hair.

  “Yeah. I finished the proposal. Now all I have to do is stay awake for eight hours tomorrow and it’s the weekend.”

  “Good for you. I know how tough the week has been for you. You called that you would be late. Did you even eat supper?”

  “Brenda and I had takeout. It didn’t pay to come home until we had everything ready for the presentation tomorrow.”

  A wind-up clock ticked on the bureau.

  “Andy?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for helping around the house this week.”

  His hand moved up to grasp her breast. He kissed her neck. “No problem.” He breathed deeply. “Your hair smells great.” His hand left her breast and ran across the curve of her hip.

  Payton tensed when he rested his palm against her covered crotch.

  “I missed you this week.” His voice sounded slightly tentative in the darkened room.

  Andy rose on his elbow and nibbled at her exposed neck. His finger slipped inside the elastic at the top of her leg and caressed her pussy.

  Payton didn’t move. “I’m really tired, Andy.”

  “Come on, Payton. I’ve hardly seen you all week.” His finger found her warm, moist hole. A split second later, he withdrew it and rubbed her clit.

  Payton grabbed his forearm and yanked his hand out of her underwear. “Not tonight.”

  In a flash, he dragged her on top of him and fit her pubic mound against his erection. Andy squeezed her ass gently. “I want to fuck you, Payton. I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

  She used her arms against his broad chest to push herself off his body and grabbed the bedspread ag
ain. “I’m not in the mood. I’m tired, dammit.”

  Andy opened his mouth to throw a comment back at her, but snapped it shut before anything came out. He wouldn’t endear himself by bitching about not getting laid.

  A heavy sigh left his lips. He rolled over and punched the pillow before he buried his head in it.

  * * * * *

  Music blasted into Payton’s consciousness. She lifted her head from the pillow, squinted at the clock, then reached out an arm to bat at the offending noise. Her fingers finally connected with the snooze bar and suddenly the horrible woman who screeched at the top of her lungs went away. Payton rolled slowly to her back and fought the idea of having to get up for work. She was dead tired.

  She lay in the bed, trying to come up with yet another reason why she could dump work for the day, knowing no matter how she argued with herself, that like a good girl, she would get up and start some breakfast for her and Andy before the kids hit the floor running.

  Payton slung her arm over her eyes and wiggled back into the soft pillow. Just five more minutes. That’s all I want.

  Fifteen minutes later, Andy came into the room wrapped in a towel and eyed his snoozing wife. “Hey, Payt—you better get up or you’re gonna to be swearing.

  She pulled the blanket over her head, rolled into a ball, and mumbled something unintelligible from beneath the covers.

  “Come on, babe. One more day. You can sleep in tomorrow.” He strolled past the bed, swatted at the general area of her butt, and was rewarded with a responding grunt. Andy dropped his towel on the floor and dug through his drawer to find a clean pair of boxers. “Pa-a-a-y-t-o-o-o-n, I know you’re in there,” he warbled in a falsetto voice over his shoulder.

  “Oh, shit,” she sighed tiredly.

  Andy smiled to himself when he heard the huge sigh that followed her curse and stuck his long legs into his underwear. “’Oh shit’ what?”