Husbands and Wives: GWM Wanted

Sweat dripped from Sam's brow and joined the slick perspiration covering Mark's overheated flesh. A duet of grunts and heavy breathing accompanied the rising pressure in Mark's groin. He tried to hold out, to force his orgasm back until Sam was ready to join him, but it was getting more and more difficult. The sight of Sam's whipcord lean body towering over him, the shift and play of lithe muscles in Sam's chest and arms flexing under smooth, damp skin the color of sun-kissed sand made Mark's sac pull taut against the base of his shaft. Sam's good looks and his heated gaze were enough to make Mark want to come. The addition of Sam's thick cock barreling in and out of his ass, brushing his sweet spot with every stroke, and it was more than Mark could take. He teetered on the edge of release, keeping it at bay through sheer force of will until it felt like his balls would burst from the need to unload. All his dick called for was one touch -- one little rub -- and he would hurtle over the precipice.

"Come," Sam whispered. "Come for me, Mark. Let me feel it."

Mark moaned and nodded, unable to form coherent words. His dick engorged to the point of pain, he released one of his legs and grabbed his cock, stroking from base to tip and back in rapid succession. Tension coiled in his groin and unleashed with a snap of pleasure strong enough to make him shout his lover's name in the heat of the moment. Every muscle in his body clenched as seed splattered his abs and spilled down over the hand still pumping his prick.

"Christ," Sam moaned, his rhythm faltering. After several jerky strokes, his thrusts picked up speed and began to batter Mark's ass all over again. With a long cry, Sam bent over Mark and shoved home with a final, deep lunge. He grunted and held still, his face scrunching up as his dick jerked inside Mark, spilling his load.

They stayed locked together, riding out the aftershocks until Sam grew heavy and Mark needed to de-pretzel himself in order to get air. He nuzzled Sam's neck and pushed at his side. "Move, love. I can't breathe."

Sam released Mark's legs and slumped forward, sharing a sloppy kiss before he withdrew and rolled over onto his back beside Mark. "God, that was good."

"Uh huh," Mark replied, his mind too satiated to come up with anything more verbose. Instead of speaking, he reached over and twined his fingers with Sam's.

Sam gave Mark's hand a squeeze and let go. He rolled from the bed and stood, stretching his arms above his head as he opened his mouth in a wide yawn. Mark's gaze traveled the line of his husband's body, lingering on the hollow of his throat, where he liked to be kissed, to the flex of firm pecs topped with tiny, beaded copper nipples. His attention wandered further down to the rugged washboard surface of slanting oblique muscles and lower still to the smooth plane of silken skin above a trimmed circlet of brown hair around Sam's cock and the heavy weight of his balls.

Mark licked his lips and considered pulling Sam back into bed with him for another round.

Sometimes it was hard to believe he was lucky enough to have caught Sam's attention in the first place, much less having been his one and only lover for fifteen years. Sure, their five-year union wasn't exactly recognized by the government, but it was real in every other since of the word -- including the way their sex life had slacked off not long after their commitment ceremony.

He'd never quite believed it when his straight buddies had teased him and claimed the sex would stop after he and Sam said "I do." They had already been together for ten years when they'd decided to make honest men out of each other, but his friends had been right. They'd gone from going at it just about every night to a couple of times a week, and then even less. Now, Mark was lucky if he and Sam made love once a week. Even then, more often than not, it was a quick session right before work, kind of like this morning.

"So," Mark said, trying to postpone Sam's leaving. "What do you have planned for today?"

"Hmm?" Sam said, over his shoulder. "Oh, well, I'm going to go for a run, and then I thought I would head into the office and work on grading some of the papers I have waiting on me."

"Is it really necessary to spend all evening at the college? Couldn't you bring them home and work on them here?"

"What difference does it make?" Sam pulled a white jock out of the dresser and stepped into, adjusting the straps around his ass. "It isn't like you're going to be here, are you?"

"No, I guess not." Mark sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as he listened to Sam rustle through the dresser. He glanced up in time to see Sam pull on a pair of skintight running shorts in bright neon yellow. "You know, if you give me time to have a cup of coffee, I could come jogging with you."

"No." Sam shook his head. "I know how you are. You say that now, but after the first cup you'll remember something that needs to be done and then something else. By the time you're ready, I could have gone and been back. Besides," Sam said as he pulled a white T-shirt over his head, "since when are you interested in running with me?"

He wasn't interested in running; he just wanted to spend a little more time together. Not that he was going to say that out loud and make himself sound like a clingy asshole. "Never mind. It was a stupid idea."

"All right. Well, I guess I'll see you when I get back?"

"Sure." Mark sat up. "Be careful."

"I will, darlin'. I'll see you later." Sam waved as he walked out the door.

With a sigh, Mark slumped back on the bed and pulled a pillow over his head. Barely sixty seconds later, he heard the front door slam closed as Sam left the house.

It seemed as if they'd somehow lost the ability to make extra time for each other along the way. He was just as guilty of it as Sam. First, it'd been extra work to make partner at his law firm. Once he'd accomplished his goal, he'd been forced to work twice as many hours in order to keep his promotion. If you factored in all the time he'd been spending at the gym -- because the Big Five-O was just around the corner, and he had no intention of turning to flab once it arrived -- it seemed as if he and Sam were merely greeting each other in passing as they rushed off toward altogether separate lives.

Almost like they were roommates with benefits rather than partners.

A huge weight of desolation settled in the pit of Mark's gut and began to fester. Something had to change -- and soon -- or he feared for the state of their relationship. Short of kidnapping Sam and demanding they spend more time together, he wasn't sure precisely what to do about it. All he could do was hope that by the time he figured out a solution, it wouldn't be too late to fix things.