Mary and Daphne #142 (Patreon)

“You make the cutest orgasm noises sometimes,” my very pretty wife said to me. She’s tall and has a very athletic but slender figure for a computer jockey. It’s probably why she feels confident enough to say stuff like that, post-coitally on blanket in front of the fireplace no less!

“I do not!”

Ya know, sometimes I just object to what she says sorta by reflex. I mean, what, do I wanna be someone who makes ugly orgasm noises? Of course not … Hey, you don’t think me saying no and objecting to stuff reflexively is because I’m a brat, do you? I don’t think so. That may be a trait or even an act of brattiness, but acts of brattiness do not equate to acting bratty, and acting bratty does not equate to being a brat so … I’m not a brat. Good. Very reassuring and thanks for nothing.

Back to our marital … floor. “I swear you actually squeaked.”

“Well, you made me.”

“Heck yeah I did,” she replied to me and rolled us over so we were on our sides looking in each other’s eyes. It’s a nice position to be in cuz I like snuggling my wife and as a bonus cuz my butt was pointing toward the fire, and I like having a warm butt. I’d say not to tell Mary, but she knows how much I like a warm butt. She knows darn well, and she knows other stuff … and things too.

She had this lascivious gleam in her eye. She’s always being all lascivious and gleamy around me. I leaned forward and rested my forehead against her chest just below her collarbones, and she kissed the top of my head, and she would probably tell you I went, “Eee-hee!” But she says lots of stuff and also, yes, that’s a thing I did.

“You really are squeaky today. I’ma start calling you my little squeak toy.”

“Then I’m gonna start calling you my big bad wolf.”

“Do wolves play with squeak toys?”

“When they don’t have other wolves to play with.”

“I don’t want another wolf to play with.”

“Because you like pouncing on defenseless woodland creatures like myself. We’re like one of those Instagram famous predator-prey couples, like a she-wolf who’s friends with a bunny.”

“You haven’t worn your bunny tail in a while,” she said while running a finger down the length of my arms and taking my hands in hers when she got to them. “You can wear it to dinner if you want.”

“I’d rather wear it at home where you can gently pull on it when I’m not expecting it because reasons.”

“I’m gonna fall asleep like this,” she said as she laid her head on the pillow because yes, we made a sex nest in front of the fireplace and tricked it out pretty good … Or really just a blanket and pillows in front of the fireplace.

“Good,” I told her (very bravely), “cuz then I can sneak around behind you and be the big spoon.” And then, because I’m a smartaleck, which is different than being a brat (it is too! really!), and knew she was going to say it, I timed it perfectly and said, “You’re too little to be the big spoon” right when she did. I grinned at her with mischief dancing in my eyes cuz they do that sometimes. Heehee!

“Such a sassy girl. We should get you in a diaper.”

“For that? Seriously?”

“You’re not in trouble, sweetie. You just need to pee after sex.” See, Mary didn’t need to pee … well, I mean, not a bad idea but not quite as essential because, um, I was the one who had a … reasons.

Anyhoo, I reminded her, “We have three rooms in the house with a contraption just for that purpose.”

“Yeah,” she said, ignoring what I said, “we’ll get you into one of those thinner diapers …”

“Doesn’t make it better.”

“… and I’ll just hold you in my lap, maybe bounce you on my knee until you potty. You like straddling my knee, don’t you? Going for a little ride?”

Ah. Now I see where she’s going with this. All caught up. “Um, I forget,” I said because I can play the game too, “Maybe we should try it a time or three without the diaper just to be sure I like it.”

“And have you make a mess on my knee?”

“I’m not gonna pee on you,” I said and rolled my eyes. Not one of our kinks, but then, she was just teasing me.

“And I didn’t say ‘pee,’ did I?”

Hoo boy. Well, just damn. “Aw geez,” I said.

“What?”

“We’re gonna be late for dinner.”

“It’s not for six hours.”

I shook my head because this was just terrible. “I know, and we’re gonna be late and walking funny.”

Mary mock gasped and poked me in my side where I’m ticklish. “You dirty little turkey!”

“I am not a turkey!”

“Does that make you a silly goose?”

“If you had your way with the pet names, I’d be a Turducken by now.”

“Ha! Roll over.” Which I did. Mary made herself the big spoon, and I had the fire on my face, and Mary curved around behind me.

“Are you cold,” I asked her from the best spot on the whole planet between her and the fire.

“Just my back half,” she chuckled and rolled away from me to find the edge of the blanket and pull it over us as she curved back around me. “There. Comfy?”

“Mhmm. We’re gonna fall asleep like this.”

“I know.” She kiss-kiss-kissed my shoulder and worked her way up. A tingle went up my spine as she did, and we both sighed as she placed her lips once more against my hair.

“I like spending holidays with you,” I said.

“Me too.”

“My Mary.”

“My Daffodil.”