Rotation

Wendy awoke thinking, "Great. It's Sunday" and promptly went back to sleep.

On Sundays Phil brought her a mug of steaming hot coffee and warm blueberry muffin in bed.

The sound of Phil pulling on the drawstring to open the concertinaed blackout blind brought Wendy to consciousness again. After anchoring the drawstring, Phil carefully closed the gap in the full net privacy curtains. The room was barely lit by the blue tinged early morning light.

Wendy sat up against the headboard as she savored the delicious smell of the dark roast coffee. Phil went to his side of the bed, turned on his bedside light and started their usual playlist of smooth jazz. He too returned to bed. They both drank their coffees and ate the warm buttered muffins in silence, consumed by their own private thoughts.

"As usual, that was lovely. Thank you, Phil." Wendy stretched and then wriggled down under the warm covers. She rolled on her side facing the pale light of dawn through the window.

Phil turned the sound of the music down to a point where it was hardly audible. He turned off the light before following Wendy's lead to snuggle under the blankets. Phil spooned his wife of twenty-five years. Their mutual warmth drew them both down into a pleasant comfort cuddle.

Wendy anticipated Phil's actions from the many Sundays they had followed the same routine. Phil's hand reached down to the hem of Wendy's flannel nightdress and started to pull it up. She helped by lifting her hips, so the loose garment was bunched under breasts.

Phil's hand travelled up to her breasts under the nightgown and started to massage them. Wendy positioned one of her hands on the pillow just in front of her face. As Phil worked her breasts, she squeezed the foam pillow and thought that the sensation must be similar to Phil's.

He then turned his attention to her nipples. Wendy thought, "Right on cue." In her mind she turned the pages of Phil's playbook. Reflexively, her nipples sharpened from the attention they were getting. As had been the case for many months, the nipples were sending out no discernable signals to the rest of her body.

Phil pinched and rolled the nubs between his forefinger and thumb. Wendy felt some pain. It was of the kind hurt the brain receives when stubbing one's toe. Simple uncomfortable pain, no pleasure. She did not complain or even react. She would let Phil have his fun. He deserved it for bringing the coffee.

Wendy correctly predicted that after the work on her breasts his hand would move down to her butt to massage it. She like the butt massage simply because it did not hurt. Then his middle finger moved on to trace the crack.

The finger found her anus. The prodding and twitching of Phil's finger only reminded Wendy that she needed to get back onto her probiotic regime. She had been a bit constipated recently.

Wendy moved her top knee further to her chest to facilitate Phil's next move. His finger traced further forward to meet Wendy's tight labia. Separating the outside folds, he moved his digit into the warm damp valley.

Having a well lubricated vagina was not always an advantage. It sometimes leaked. On this occasion, it was a benefit. Phil's finger slipped in and out. He curled the finger. Wendy was loath to tell him that this move only worked when approached from the front, but from behind it just felt a bit weird and uncomfortable.

Phil moved to the main event. Grabbing his firm woody, he navigated it towards the target. Wendy's rectum received the first bump before the tip was redirected further forward. She lifted her leg. She reached down to pull the labia apart. Her action increased the size of the target. Phil hit a bull's eye. Wendy closed her eyes and settled down.

After five minutes of being piston fucked, Wendy opened her eyes to observe the full moon through a nearly transparent part fold of the net curtain. She watched the moon slowly transverse behind an opaquer fold. Wendy had a revelatory moment. It was the earth's rotation that made the moon appear to move relative to the curtain.

At that very moment Phil came. She responded with some Kleagle crunches that squeezed Phil's cock to give a passable impression of an orgasm.

He asked, "How was that for you, hon?"

"Honestly, the earth moved."

"Really?"

"Yes. Hon, it moved."