In which Onyx is mean, except not

There is not a day that goes by that I don't end up thinking how much I love Onyx and how goddamn lucky I am to have found him. Today I was telling him about an article I read for class about arranged marriages in India. We agreed that while it seemed an efficient system, we were both glad that our American social structure was not the same. If it had been, we would probably not have even met each other, much less ended up as happily married as we are. We have a lot going on for us, and can consider ourselves extremely lucky on a number of points. The most important of which, of course, is that we do have such a healthy, wonderful relationship.

And the sex doesn't hurt. Neither does the polyamoury.

I gotta say, being a girl, periods suck. If you're not a girl, you probably don't understand how much I want to chloroform the ovary gnomes and make those bitches stop twisting up my insides. This month, worse, because Krysta has finally synchonized with me, so I can't even fuck her or encourage Onyx to fuck her and keep the both of them happy. And not being able to do anything for some reason brought out the mean, horrible, terrible, vicious tease in my husband. This week he has done more of that than usual, sending me to work both aroused and upset that I could not throw him down and fuck his brains out right then and there.

Yesterday was a good example. Here's what happens. As part of my preperation to go to work, one of the first things I do is to put my hair (which falls to two-thirds down my back) up in a ponytail. Recently Onyx told me that he really likes my hair like that and thinks it's extremely cute. Then upon my questioning he admitted that that's why he keeps wanting quickies just before I go. Because the ponytail is cute. And yesterday was no exception. I put my hair up, brushed my teeth, put my contacts in, and put on my uniform. Onyx was at his computer, as usual, through all of this. I picked up my purse and keys, and then realized that it was still too early to leave. I didn't have a chance to decide my course of action, however, because Onyx got up out of his chair at that point and walked straight over to where I was standing in front of his dresser.

He grabbed my head with both hands and pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss. I fell back against the dresser, then snaked one hand around his waist while the other slid up his chest and around his neck to the back of his head. He moved one hand to encompass my waist, to pull me in closer. Soon he had both hands around me, my other hand wrapped around his shoulder to claw at his back. I moaned just slightly, his signal that I was right where he wanted me. And that's when he stopped kissing me. But he didn't separate our bodies. He didn't loosen his hold. He put one hand back on the back of my neck and grinned. Leaning forward again, I could feel his hot breath on my cheek as he whispered, "Don't you want it?" And I did. By this time, I could feel his hardness against my thighs, and it was making me hot.

He continued, moving his whispered breaths from my cheek, to my ear, to my sensitive neck and shoulder, back up again, lingering ever so slightly at my lips which so longed to be kissed. As he talked, he thrusted his body against mine, mimicking the actions I only wished we were excercising. "You do, don't you?" he asked, but he didn't have to. I had been reduced to short, gasping sighs that resembled laughing, but really I was beginning an ascent I hadn't expected. "You want me in you? To feel me thrusting, my cock throbbing inside you?" He continued, but I couldn't hear him anymore. The power of his words had already driven me to orgasm. Damn, that man is good at what he does.

He finally broke his hold of me. Grinning evilly, he told me to have a great night at work. And, once I found my legs again, I left to do just that. Needless to say, I plan to fuck him silly when I get done and he gets home from work...