Chapter 38: Chapter 38

I could even count with my hands the number of pushes he did before his eyes rolled upward. For the first time, I felt the bliss of a hard member invading in and out of me. However, the pleasure was short-lived and even placed me in discomfort. I had almost reached the peak of fulfillment, but he suddenly stopped, basking in the triumph of his release by himself.

He stayed for a while until the last drop of his juice seeped into my sweet cave. Then, he pulled me up and hugged me tight while I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“It was so good, babe, thank you.”

Instead of getting mad, I pitied him. If it were not for his disorder, he would have enjoyed it better than this. And I would have been happier and satiated. Yet, he was already enjoying those quick and hurried methods of satisfaction.

“Zed, I’m not done yet. Can you help me?”

He froze for a while, but a flicker in his eyes told me he understood what I meant. He picked me up and carried me in a bridal style, and placed me on our wooden table. Folding my legs again and parting them wide, he bent down his head between my thighs and plowed my little farm with his tongue. But I wanted the fulfillment of penetration, to feel a resemblance of his hardness, so I demanded again.

“Use your finger,” I groaned, arching my hips forward.

Thrusting his pointer finger in and out soon after, I still wanted more.

“Make it two, please.” I was no longer ashamed of begging. For the many days that he deprived me of my fulfillment, my needs and hunger became deeper.

“Roll my button with your other fingers.” And he did what I said.

“Aahhh!” I could not help screaming as I started to ride in the tide of intense pleasure. The ministration of his fingers also quickened and went deeper, matching the tosses of my body and the depth of my nails on his shoulders. After a while, I finally stopped moving, allowing my involuntary spasm of pleasure to set in.

After the pulsation on my clit stopped throbbing, I lay limp on the table, spreading my arms in exhaustion. Zed picked me up again and placed me on the sofa.

“Rest, first,” Zed said after I felt the sofa’s soft cushion on my back. He then planted a kiss on my forehead. “You must be very tired.”

“Okay,” I replied softly, but little did he know that I was enjoying the bliss of sexual fulfillment.

“I love you."

“I love you, too," I replied, watching him turning away from me.

Realizing that he satisfied me this way, I decided to change my method. If I couldn’t expect him to do what I desired, then I must act on it. Instead of grieving for his incompetence, I should find ways to solve my issues. And that was to do mental stimulation.

If I would set my mind ahead, I wouldn’t have goosebumps when he couldn’t keep himself from touching me directly on my sensitive parts. And since taking a longer time in stimulating those areas would make him go limp, I better make the process quick. I knew this was not the right way to help him resolve his dysfunction. Because doing this would feed his weakness. He would not learn to control his mind and hold on until I could join the bliss.

Yet, I didn’t want to grow cold on him. I didn’t want this embarrassment to ruin our bond. I had vowed to love him for better or for worse, for good times and bad times, and to stay by his side, in sickness, and in health. And I wanted to live with that commitment with happiness in my heart and not with resentment for being sexually unfulfilled.

I had accepted that I couldn’t have everything I wanted in a man because no one is perfect. And I knew that I was so blessed to have someone as caring and as thoughtful as Zed. He was almost perfect—fine-looking, a great speaker, a good planner, and a good provider. He only had one flaw, and that was his dick that went limp in less than a minute.

If ever I would make this a big issue in the future and decide to leave him, how would I explain it to my family? Wouldn’t it be shameful to say that I left him because I am not sexually satisfied? Wouldn’t they slander me for leaving a man like Zed just because of unsatiated lust?

“Dear, let me clean you up,” Zed’s voice broke into my train of thoughts. I looked at him and saw that he was bringing a basin of water again.

“Don’t bother. I can go to the bathroom and wash,” I said shyly. I didn’t want him to think that I was already enjoying my role as a pampered, pregnant wife.

“No, you’re tired. Let me do it."

He parted my thighs, wiped my crotch with a lukewarm and soapy towel, then wiped it again with another non-soapy towel. After he pat-dried it with another cloth, he then changed my undies and put on my denim shorts.

That gesture moved me again. I was like a fragile figurine that he handled with utmost care. And I was like a precious princess in his kingdom.

“Zed, thank you,” I said, grabbing his face towards me.

“For what?” he asked, looking at me tenderly.

“For the good sex and for the aftercare.”

He chuckled. “You like my fingers inside you?”

He sat down next to me at the edge of the sofa, lifting my legs and put them in his lap. His fingers then moved on my feet, giving me a massage.

“I would have loved it better if it was your hard pet, but since you couldn’t hold it longer, your fingers are fine with me.”

Zed winced, and I could tell that he was ashamed. “Zed, we are husband and wife. We could help each other. I need longer foreplay to fully turn me on, but you couldn’t hold on. So, I will prepare my mind from now on. And so that I could still enjoy your hardness.”

He nodded and reached out for my hand. Pressing it against his palm was his way of showing that he was thankful.

“But I would be happier if you would do some ways to heal and improve. You may try all your means with me; I am willing to cooperate.”

He pressed my hand harder, but still, he didn’t say a word.

“Another thing, can we be fully naked next time? Let’s enjoy the pleasure it brings.”

“I’m sorry.” I knew he felt guilty. Just like a while ago; my blouse was still in place. He didn’t even touch the soft cups that could have brought me to a higher level of pleasure.

“Can we eat now?” I giggled, breaking the seriousness of our discussion.

He smiled lovingly. “Of course. I cooked your favorite food.”