Long day yesterday and boy did a lot of things culminate in one night.
As part of a background, on Friday I bought a bunch of new pedicure materials. I ordered some great clear makeup cases with locks on them with the intent of putting all of the pedicure tools in one (toe spreaders, buffers, nail edge cutter, cuticle clipper, cuticle pusher, cuticle cleaner, double edge cleaners and scrapers, files, etc.) and all of the polishes in the other. I also bought some new cuticle remover (Blue Cross) and some nifty little single polish holder that is rubber, so you never have to worry about the bottle tipping over. I used her account to order the materials, so I had to tell her to not be worried when she received an email from the company I bought them from. She was happy about the presents. She was happier that my plan was to organize, and of course that the purchases were for her benefit.
She also began telling me how slammed she was with work and other things that day. She also texted me telling me her and her work partner needed to go to a work event on Friday, but afterward they wanted for the four of us (me, my wife, the partner and her husband) to go to dinner.
After that exchange, she also began explaining how a sudden meeting needed to take place and there were going to be problems with pick ups of the kids because she had to go to that meeting. I offered to leave work early to pick up one of the kids from school for her. This relieved a bunch of pressure from her because she would have been worried the entire time she was doing what she needed to do. While she was there, I asked if she wanted me to make reservations for dinner. She enthusiastically stated yes and told me to contact her partner. After my discussions with the partner, I made the reservations per her request.
I then picked up the one kid and she was able to take her time and then go to the other school for a different event with another kid. While there, I texted her if she had anything planned for dinner. Her response: "I wish I did."
Nothing was defrosted or available, so I began rummaging through the house to figure out what to make. I found some tomatoes, mushrooms, and fresh basil, so I knew I could do something. I kept looking and found risotto. With those ingredients, wine, chicken stock, Parmesan cheese, and garlic, I made a wonderful risotto.
If you've ever made risotto you know that you need to be stirring it constantly while slowly adding the stock having it absorbed and repeating until it's ready. You need to immediately serve it once it's ready. So I began to text her asking when she was going to be home so I could time it right. At first, she said she'd be home in 10 minutes so my plan was to keep gently cooking it until she arrived. At 15 minutes later, I asked her eta again and she said she was heading home. That should be at most a 5 min trip, so I stopped cooking, had the table ready and the food served. 5 minutes passed and the kids were starving, so I let them eat. 5 more minutes passed and I didn't want the dinner to be bad for her, so I gently urged her to get home soon.
When she arrived home about 5 more minutes later, we kissed and sat down to dinner. The kids were already on thirds, but the food was still in good shape. As we were eating, we discussed my texts a bit and I explained how I wasn't trying to rush her, just that I wanted the dinner to be good for her. Her response: "You're so cute, getting all upset about the dinner going bad."
Immediately after dinner, she received a phone call for work she had to take, so she went to our office and I cleaned the kitchen. All of the dishes and cleaned the entire area. When she came back down, I was finishing and she said "look at you doing all the cleaning. Sorry that I just came home, ate, then had to take the call and did not help with cleaning up." I explained I totally understood and was happy cooking and cleaning. As I was finishing, she kissed me and said "My little househusband." (which, unfortunately, I'm not. I've told her most recently that I would love to quit my job, stay home and take care of the kids and the house. She knows it would be great too, because she knows I'd be in better shape and she'd always have great dinners ready for her.)
After all the kids were asleep, she looked for the open bottle of wine, but I explained that I had used it to cook. So I went to the fridge and opened the bottle for her. When doing so, I noticed one of our wine opener corkscrews was slightly bent, so I went to my shop and fixed it. This was part of my plan - about a month ago she mentioned that she wanted to make a list of the things that needed to be fixed, but she never did. Over the weekend I totally cleaned the bathroom, vacuumed our room and fixed two things in the house without being asked, which she was extremely happy about. So when I fixed the corkscrew, her response was "wow, look at you. You're on fire."
After pouring her a glass of wine, she said "Do you want to play Scrabble or something tonight? Ah, forget it. I'm totally fried. Maybe I'll just let you do my toes."
Whenever she says those things, I never know how to respond. My feeling is one of joy, wherein I'd like to profusely express to her how I would love to do her toes, but I always get the feeling that when I respond in that manner, it makes her uncomfortable. It's a battle in me. I want to express to her how much I love it so she will want to do it more, but I realize that it will probably have the opposite effect. Therefore, I simply said I would be up for doing her toes, but then noted that only a portion of my recent purchase had arrived. Not everything had arrived. She wanted to have them done, so upstairs we went.
Her toes were a dark color that is popular these days and it took a long time to remove all of the polish. I asked her what she was going to wear on Friday night, but she wasn't sure. It wasn't going to be a bold color though, so I went with a dark red, something I thought could go with any outfit really. The entire time I was working, she was on her phone working, or looking at Facebook, and then reading on the Ipad. We were also talking about other stuff.
I didn't do a great job - I think the color I used was old and it didn't flow on the nails that well. It took a long time. By the time I was done, it was passed our normal bed time.
After the nails dried, she was in the bathroom washing her face while I was cleaning up and she casually said "Now you need to learn to do facials." I immediately got a little excited, but I also not only have no idea how to do a facial, but I expressed to her that if I screwed up on her toes it was not big deal, but I didn't want to ever do something wrong when giving her a facial! She agreed and immediately said she was only kidding. I will have to figure out how to do a home facial. It won't be nearly as good or as complicated as she could get done at a salon, but I should be able to come up with some quick routine that I can do every week. If anyone has any suggestions on this, please let me know.
Later that night, we did end up making love. Me on top and as we were doing it, she began spanking me. And I mean spanking me hard. The hardest she's ever smacked me. Ooohhhhhhh, it felt so delicious. I couldn't see, but I'm sure it was red. It was so great and something completely unexpected.
With me still on top, I sat up and spread her legs so I could get to her clit. While fucking her, I used my thumb and finger on her clit and brought her off. I had been really holding back my orgasm, but once she came I was able to let loose after a few more thrusts. We stayed with me inside her for a while, kissing and resting.
You all know that I have that typical male desire to eat the creampie before cumming, but then lose all desire immediately after cumming. But this time, since we had spent some time with me still in her and time had passed, I started to get the feeling again. I moved back up and began raising her legs back, pushing her butt up so that when I pulled out the cum wouldn't all fall out onto the bed. I was about to pull out and dive in, but as I was doing that, she said "oh, no, don't even think about it. I already had a great orgasm, I don't need anymore and it's late. It's time to go to bed." And with that, she moved out from under me, put her underwear on and went to the bathroom. I was soooo close, but was fine with her decision.
As much as I sometimes think that we are not in a WLM because she does not specifically express it, does not use that term, does not implement it more, and even feels guilty or bad when I do all the cleaning or other work for her, the more I think about what happened last night, the more I know we are in her version of a WLM. And I went to bed happy last night. Very very happy.