Sleeping On The Couch

I had just gotten home from the bar. It was late and I was tired.
"Where were you?"
"I was at the bar," I said.
"With who?"
"Why does it matter?"
"I guess it doesn’t, nothing does," she said in a nasty tone.
"Alright." I sat down on the couch beside her. She was a good woman; short, brunette, with big tits, a big ass, and a tiny waist; just how I like it. I picked up the remote for the TV and changed the channel.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"What?"
"I was watching my show."
"I hate that show."
"I don’t give a shit. You go out all night drinking and come home and expect to run this place like I don’t even exist. I only exist when you’re horny."
"Are you asking me to fuck you?" I said. I was a cheeky bastard.
"Oh go to hell!" She stormed out of the room. Finally, I thought. I never enjoyed talking to her after the bar. She hated when I went to the bar.

After an hour of watching meaningless television I went upstairs to the bedroom. There she was, already asleep on her side of the bed.. I got in as softly as I could and put my arm around her. She moved to the edge of the bed so I couldn’t reach her. It was a big bed.
"Come on babe, I’m sorry."
She didn’t answer.
"Let me make it up to you."
She turned towards me, still on the edge of the bed. I looked into her eyes.
"You’re as beautiful as the day I met you." I said, mildly sarcastic.
"I hate you," she said, as a slight smile grew on her face.
I threw the sheets off the bed. She was naked.
"Hey! It’s cold!"
"Don’t worry babe, Ill warm you up." I crawled down and spread her legs.
“My god is that ever beautiful!” I shouted.
“Would you hurry up down there!” she screamed. Before I could say anything more she grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face right in there. No time to waste.
"OOOHHHH!" she moaned. "OHHH YESS! YESSS!” My tongue worked magic.
I could never fully concentrate while pleasuring a woman. I mean, I was there physically, but mentally I was usually somewhere else. I started to think about what women really want. It seemed so easy to fix things. Men don’t need to buy them gifts, write them poems, be there when they are sad, offering a shoulder for them to cry on. All we needed was a tongue and a little attitude.

It took 10 minutes, a sore neck, and a cramped tongue to get her to finish.
“Good thing nothing comes out when you finish,” I said.
“Do you have to ruin this moment for me every time? And by the way, not all women are the same. Some women have ‘stuff’ come out when they finish. You’re just lucky, even though you don’t deserve to be lucky.”
“Who does deserve to be lucky?”
“I don’t know. But I know its not you.”
“So is it my turn?”
“Your turn? I thought you were making up to me for acting like a jerk before?”
“I was. But now I’m hard, horny, and tired. So get to work babe! I want to get to sleep some time tonight!”
“You’re such an asshole! I’m not giving you shit!”
“Fine, be a cunt.” I got out of bed and left the room. After I rinsed my mouth out in the bathroom I went into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. There was one left. Damn, I am lucky after all. I walked over to the table and sat down to look out the window. I could see a couple people walking down the street under the moonlight, laughing and drinking a bottle of rum or whiskey; some kind of dark liquor. There’s a few more lucky son of a bitches. Now, I thought, which couch would be most comfortable to sleep on tonight?