Fifty Shades of Play

A loosened grey tie, reminiscent of the one on the cover of Fifty Shades of Grey.

She waits alone in a darkened corner of the room, almost hidden to the naked eye. Silent and vulnerable. She knows I am there, but we must wait for our opportunity to present itself. Outwardly, I appear relaxed as I sip ruby-red wine, its lingering taste on my lips reminding me of past conquests. But there is something burning deep within my soul. I ache for her; my desire almost getting the better of me on several occasions, as the minutes turn into hours. But we must wait. My wife is sitting next to me and is showing no signs of turning in for the night.

Throughout the evening, we exchange furtive, admiring glances. I shall not give up. Not tonight. We have come so close to acting on our primal instincts in recent weeks, before guilt prevented me. I cannot, will not let this opportunity evade me again. This is going to happen. Tonight. I feel like I am going to explode, such is the growing sense of anticipation. I’ve got a new toy for us to share. It promises untold pleasure and pain.

I don’t know why I feel so nervous about the act that I know will follow; we have previous. Various stolen moments in which we have acted out innumerable depraved scenes. But they were long ago. This feels like the first time. I feel that my desire is palpable; I must subdue it until the moment is right, lest my intentions are detected.

Finally, my quarry surrenders to tiredness and leaves the room. At long last we are alone. Together. My heart rate accelerating and breath hitching, I greedily seize my opportunity. I approach her from behind. She remains silent. I reach out and delicately caress her perfect, spread-out form. She stays still, submissive. My hands glide masterfully across her smooth contours and she shudders to life. She opens up for me. I whip out the main content of my package, my hand barely able to grasp its entire circumference, and gently but firmly insert it into her yielding slot. She hums with pleasure, her emerald-green eyes flashing me a look that says “take control of me.”

My fingers dance across her as I reach out to push her buttons and pull her triggers. It’s been such a long time, but the muscle memories come to the fore; we go into overdrive. This game is not going to last for long; forget all the build up, I want instant gratification.

There is considerable banging and screaming. All too soon, I have shot my load. To my abject horror, my wife is standing in the open doorway. Oh my! She has witnessed the carnage that has unfolded. In the sanctity of our own front room. I feel a deep sense of shame, but retain a strong feeling of deep-rooted satisfaction. She fixes me with an intense gaze. “Have you finished playing Call of Duty yet?” she enquires, cocking her head to one side. “The kids are stirring.”

I miss my Xbox…

This post is part of a great idea of Mummy 365. She is getting 50 bloggers to join forces to scribe Fifty shades of Parenthood. 

Comments

  1. Ruthie

    Who the hell is E.L. James?! Tom, literally in stitches (I think my work colleagues are slightly perturbed, but as they are all men, they might relate to this version of your ‘Fifty Shades…’ plotline!)
    Brilliant!! 😀

  2. _Mushypea

    Who’d have thought you could have such intense feelings for an Xbox? I was trying to guess what you were writing about all the way through this post – brilliant!

  3. Karin @ Mummy365

    Wow! Phew! That was one heck of a story! Impressive…your Xbox is very lucky! 😉 Thanks so much for joining in on #50shadesofparenthood. I don’t think we’ll make it to 50 but it’s been fun along the way! 😉

    Karin @ Mummy365

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.