Angry

That night, we went to bed angry. We laid each with our back turned to the other, both unable to sleep but unwilling to continue the fight. I felt her shift and fuss--stressed, like me, and unable to relax.

For several minutes she was still, but then she slipped out of bed and abruptly walked out of our bedroom. I listened for sounds from the bathroom, but heard nothing. I sat up, straining to hear any noise. Was she crying?

I laid back down, deciding I didn't care what she was doing. I closed my eyes and several long minutes passed. What the hell was she up to?

I got out of bed, taking care to do so silently. I tiptoed to the doorway and listened again. I held my breath. There was something, it was coming from the living room. I moved down the hallway, shifting my weight carefully, avoiding the places where the floor might squeak.

Just shy of the threshold to the living room I leaned out away from the wall and could see her lying on the couch. Apparently she didn't want to sleep in the same bed with me. Fuck her, then. I was ready to return to my bed when I noticed movement.

She lowered her knees, and by the faint moonlight I could see that her hand was down the front of her pajama bottoms. Her arm jerked vigorously as she masturbated. But this wasn't the sensual, teasing way she used on those occasions when she allowed me to watch her. This was purposeful and almost brutal.

My cock grew stiff instantly. I felt suddenly bad that I had driven her to this, but at the same time I couldn't turn away. I pulled my cock out of my boxers and watched her. She worked her hand rapidly between her legs, breathing quickly, but not moaning like she did when putting on a show for me.

What I was witnessing was purely for her. She attacked her pussy, seeking relief, needing to give herself something that wasn't about or for me. She knew how much I loved to watch her touch herself, and she was taking satisfaction from denying me this. Or so she thought.

She stopped suddenly, then punched the sofa pillow. For a moment I thought that she had heard me. I froze. My pulsing hard cock in my sweaty grip. She pulled off her pajama bottoms, threw them aside, and unbuttoned her top. I could just barely see her roughly pinching and pulling at both her nipples. Harder than I would ever imagine doing. I continued stroking myself.

She licked the two middle fingers of her right hand and reached back down to her pussy. Her hand circled there a few times, then she stretched her arm in a way that told me she had pushed those two fingers inside her. Instead of the slow, tender motions I anticipated, she began pounding at herself.

Her whole body clenched as she repeatedly slammed her fingers into her pussy. Her relentless pace increased and she fucked herself even harder. I couldn't believe how intense she was. The heel of her hand slapped hard against her clit, making a noise that I would have been able to hear from the bedroom. She wanted me to know she was pleasuring herself. She wanted to torture me with the knowledge that she was naked, and masturbating, and fucking herself without me.

I wanted to go to her then. I wanted to say I was sorry and plunge my cock into her swollen, wet cunt. I wanted her to take me into her mouth while she furiously fucked her fingers. I wanted to be a part of her angry, spiteful passions. But I held back, not willing to give her the satisfaction. Instead, I would take what I wanted from her, use her self-serving display for my own pleasure. I jerked my cock with one hand, and cupped by balls tightly with the other.

She pulled her knees up toward her shoulders, her feet in the air. The slick, sucking sounds of her pussy were exquisite. Still she beat away at herself, just as quick and as hard as she could. She pulled her fingers out and slapped her cunt, then slapped it again, even harder. I had never seen her do this before. It was amazing.

After a few more quick smacks, she put all her fingers together, and slipped them into the opening of her pussy. She strained and arched her back as she pushed her fingers farther and deeper. Her hips turned toward me for a moment and I could see that she was slowly forcing her entire hand into her cunt. Her face was contorted with effort and pain. Why was she doing this to herself?

She rolled back and with one last effort buried her hand up to her wrist in her cunt hole. She writhed and rocked, humping her hand with a look of pure ecstasy now on her face. Oh my god, I had never been as turned on by her as I was at that moment.

Her other hand was now down there as well. Her fingers pressed against her clit as she rubbed it fast and hard. She emitted a series of sharp gasps. She was close to coming. She frigged herself more and more aggressively, lifting her ass up off the sofa and thrusting violently. I could see every muscle in her body convulse and tighten at once and she struggled to noiselessly ride out what had to be the most intense orgasm I have ever witnessed.

At that same moment my balls clenched. I looked down and watched the head of my cock swell just before a spurt of cum shot out. I hunched over my hand and filled my palm with hot semen. I looked up and saw that she had collapsed back onto the sofa. Her hand was no longer crammed in her cunt, but still it lingered down there.

She continued to finger herself lightly and I watched her body quiver as she almost casually coaxed one delicate orgasm after another from her abused pussy. Finally she relaxed, spent and limp. I crept back to the bedroom with my hand full of spunk. I pulled a shirt out of the hamper and wiped myself clean, then slid into bed. It was several minutes before she returned to the room and climbed in next to me.

We were both silent. Each intimately aware of the other's wakefulness. I resisted, but as the images of her punishing her pussy played over and over again in my head, something inside me caved. I turned, and cautiously wrapped my arm around her. I felt her body tense with my touch, and for a moment I thought she would reject my apologetic gesture.

After a moment, she took my hand and raised it to her nose and sniffed. There where the scent of my spent load was fresh and strong. She relaxed then, knowing she had won. Her tongue glided across the palm of my hand, and she followed this with a soft kiss where minutes ago I had held a pool of my own cum. She nestled my hand atop her breast, and a I settled in against her back, matching the contours of my body against hers.

That night, we went to sleep, no longer angry.