16th

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Like clockwork. You’d think a friggin’ PhD in psychology would know how to remedy the situation but somehow it only heightened the intensity. He knew it. He knew it completely.

Innocently enough this stupid thing started out as a celebration. We’d been living together for about a year when we noticed our fire had fizzled. Grad school was killing me and his hours at the gym were adding up. In love, yes. In synch, no.

So we did what I swore I’d never do: we scheduled sex. We had to. Too many times I’d fall asleep in his arms after grading papers or he’d have no energy after teaching multiple schedules and clients because another manager was sick.

So we scheduled sex.

It actually worked for the first couple of months. We made time for each other and knew how important it was for our growth as a couple. What those sessions lacked in spontaneity was balanced by how prepared we were. New positions and toys found a home in those episodes.

We soon discovered that we had more sex in general because we were less worried about not having sex at all. I knew that would happen eventually, but I was grateful that it happened as soon as it had. I also expected that at some point the stress of meeting our sexual calendar was going to cause a riff.

And it did.

Though we’d gotten back into our fuck groove, we left one day on our sex schedule – the 15th. No matter what was going on in our hectic lives, we’d do the deed on the 15th. Simple as that. Even that day I gave my speech at the national conference in Milwaukee, he drove up to fuck me an hour before I went on stage to discuss the obsessive compulsory in the digital age.

Best talk I ever gave.

Like Pavlov’s Dog, the chime on my phone that announced the day as the 15th of the month, I became immediately horny. Horny as fuck.

It didn’t matter in July when we had no AC. We fucked like rabbits. That September my older sister crushed the family with news of her divorce and I still needed an orgasm. And then in October, we’d gotten a little tipsy after his promotion party. Twice. Though we’d 69’d the day before, when the alarm went off my body was still expecting dessert that day.

Yes, I knew the streak would end eventually. The point of the schedule canlı bahis was to get us back in the habit and it had more than served it’s purpose. But I couldn’t turn off the alarm. And the alarm started the flood. And in December the waters were running high and Greg didn’t bring the arc.

He let me know two days before that the district manager asked for an unscheduled tour of the three gyms he supervised. Greg was up for another promotion and we knew moving to Chicago was a possibility. This was his big chance to impress his boss, so he worked late for a couple of nights. He’d be running around the city on the 15th, but was confident he’d be home to celebrate with me by midnight.

With the combination of his promotion and my scheduled adventure to Dicktown, my day could not have gone any slower. His constant texts throughout the day to let me know how smoothly things were going only heightened my anticipation. My most embarrassing moment: I had to change my underwear at work because I was so fucking wet.

The unbelievable part was that we’d had amazing sex the previous 2 nights. Well, one amazing night and then a quickie the night before his interview to calm his nerves so he could sleep. Orgasms nonetheless!

I knew he’d be home late, so I made myself a salad and tried to work on my thesis. I’d kept the music upbeat so I could focus, but then I got the text.

“Hope Northwestern likes you. We’re moving to Chicago! Home in an hour.”

I screamed at the top of my lungs. I was so excited for Greg. For us. I called my mother in celebration until I heard the keys in the front door. If the phone chime was an alarm clock, those keys were the church tower.

Greg had the biggest smile on his face. I was so happy for him. Until he said, “Can we just go to sleep, babe?”

I could see that he was exhausted and my brain understandably answered, “Of course” as I turned off the lights and lead him to bed. He immediately fell asleep, snoring for the first time ever and my heart made me wrap my arms around him.

My pussy, however, was still on overdrive. Thank God Greg was too tired to notice my tossing and turning the entire night. Outvoted by my brain and heart, my pussy was going to be an unhappy loser.

As I thought bahis siteleri about taking the situation into my own hands, my internal struggle began to unfold. Somewhere along the night, my pussy had convinced my brain that Greg couldn’t have been that tired and made my heart believe that true love would have consummated such a monumental occasion.

Selfish, we all woke up a little testy.

As Greg began to wake, we decided that we wanted no parts of his excitement or apology. We marched ourselves to the shower under the premise of an early class we needed to prepare for. We quickly lathered, scrubbed and rinsed because we knew Greg would be following shortly.

We were right.

Just as the last bubble soap left my toes, the shower curtain pulled open. 6’2″ of chocolate muscle stood naked while beautiful white teeth mumbled, “Morning, boo.”

In protest, we gave a quick kiss on the lips as we exited the hot water in search of a towel. We were cordial, but far from inviting.

“Sorry I fell asleep on you,” Greg apologized as he closed the shower curtain. “I was just sooooo tired.”

As I dried off I could feel my nipples begin to tingle. I closed my eyes, but I could see the soap bubbling over Greg’s chest and arms. I could feel the hot water bouncing between his thighs. I leaned against our bathroom counter as I wrapped my towel tighter around my chest, neglecting to cover the cuppage of my ass cheeks and the tuft of hair between my thighs.

I’m not sure how long I was in that trance, but at some point I noticed the lack of movement in the shower. I slowly looked back to see Greg’s head peeking at my glistening ass. His stare didn’t match mine, as his eyes were transfixed on the parting of my thighs as I rested against the counter.

And that’s when I heard it.

That sound of a well oiled dick being gripped by a strong and powerful fist as it works its way up and down a hardened ebony shaft. My eyes could see only Greg’s head as he leaned back to see my ass pushing away from the counter.

The mutiny had begun. While my brain and heart were attempting to hold out, my pussy had already summoned my right hand to join her in a circular rhythm that matched the ‘fap’ echoing from behind the shower curtain. bahis şirketleri My toes inched further away from the counter as I lifted my ass just enough to give my clit what she was impatiently waiting for all day.

The steam in the bathroom had completely fogged up the mirrors, but I could still see Greg’s eyes watching my hand as it vigorously thrashed my swollen mound. His pounding became more violent as the curtain was a little more open than before. He’d shifted the shower head toward the wall and now the curtain was open just enough for me to see his biceps and forearms as they methodically rocked up and down.

My towel had already fallen below me but was held above the floor by my leaning against the counter. I knew that if I lifted up enough to release the towel, my breasts would beg for me grab them and I would lose all control.

Then I heard the beautiful rhythm of Greg’s dick stroking start to degrade as he was undoubtedly feeling his cum develop. That signaled my pussy to act in kind as my knees began to buckle. I pushed further away from the counter top and the towel fell to the floor. My breasts needed grabbing so I rested my head against counter while my hands tended to my clit and nipples.

“Uggghhhhhh,” replaced the ‘fap’ as I focused on my clit. My brain, heart and pussy were surprised by my mouth as I went from a quiet hum to a violent loud scream. As my knees buckled, I screamed louder. And I screamed more. I started to shake. And scream. And shake.

I could hear the silence from the shower. I could feel his hand on my back and his limp dick rubbing against my thigh. But I couldn’t stop rubbing myself. I couldn’t stop screaming. I couldn’t stop shaking.

Oh my God. I wanted to stop. The counter was cold and my thighs were weak.

But I couldn’t stop. I hated him so much because I knew he was smiling as he held me up. I couldn’t stop rubbing my pussy. I started to bite his arm. I started to cry. I was fucking uncontrollable.

And then, without warning, I collapsed in his arms. He wrapped a towel around me and took me to our bed where I laid in a fetal position as the room spun. He quickly joined me after he dried off and laid next to me.

We laid silently for a solid ten minutes.

As my body recovered from my condition, I jokingly questioned, “Is the 15th no longer a thing?”

Greg laughed a little as he twisted his fingers through my wet curls. “Forgive me,” he added, “I think I like the 16th more.”

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