Emmeline's lips twisted into a smile that touched down somewhere along the border between wry and rueful as she pulled off the county road and onto the short dirt track heading up to the house in the woods she and her husband called home. A good half-dozen trucks stood parked just off either side of the driveway under the canopy of trees, thankfully far enough away to allow her to navigate her own battered sedan without issue, and she knew exactly what that meant even before she heard the sounds of loud music echoing from the open windows. Of course Hank had decided to invite the boys over again while she was off working the night shift. And of course they were still here when she got home.

It wasn't even like she could be mad. Hank wasn't like a lot of men when it came to throwing parties; he and his friends always made sure to tidy up their own messes, and to be honest the place was usually cleaner when they were done than it was when they got there. And it wasn't like Emmeline didn't enjoy seeing their friends and neighbors. But she'd just put in a double in the emergency room, and even though it was a quiet night with only a few patients and nothing more severe than Old Man Johnson whanging his head on the underside of his car and getting a nasty cut, she was still brutally exhausted. She needed to sleep, and that meant having to go in and be the party pooper for seven or eight guys who probably hadn't even gotten to their hangovers yet.

Emmeline didn't want to do it. She wanted to sleepwalk straight through the living room to her cozy little bed, snuggle up to Hank for about twenty minutes until her husband's comforting presence dropped her into slumber the way it always did, and not wake up for about sixteen hours or so. She wanted the first day of her four-day weekend to be blissfully untroubled by thought, and that wasn't likely to happen with the boys over no matter how sweet they were. But it was either go in and break up the fun or sleep in the car, and Emmeline had taken too many naps in her car during long shifts at the hospital to want to do it when her own bed was only a few dozen yards away. With a sigh, she levered herself up and out of the sedan and headed for the door.

She didn't expect anyone to notice her entrance, but Hank was waiting for her just inside with a sheepish smile on his face and a loving embrace that almost made up for the gaggle of men in the living room. "Now I know you're tired, sweetie," he said, his tone immediately so placating that Emmeline found the muscles in her shoulders unknotting almost before he finished his first sentence. "It's been an awful long night, and we both know you're not used to working those graveyard shifts. I promise you, me and the boys are going to do everything we can to make sure you get plenty of sleep, sleep, sleep."

Emmeline felt herself sag limply into her husband's arms, and she had just enough time to register something warm and familiar not just about the words themselves but about the calm, soothing way Hank said them before her eyes rolled back until only the whites showed and her eyelids fluttered shut and her entire head flopped forward onto Hank's shoulder in boneless relaxation. She heard her husband's friends saying something enthusiastic to each other, but the conversation didn't really register in her mind and she soon lost track of everything except Hank's comforting presence. He always made her feel so... so cozy like that.

It reminded Emmeline so much of curling up in bed with Hank at the end of a long day that she almost felt like she was falling dead asleep on her feet, and it was something of a minor miracle that he managed to get her all the way into the living room and over onto the big soft rug in front of the fireplace before her legs gave out completely and she sank to her knees with a long, drowsy sigh. She couldn't even imagine trying to rise again, not with the weight of so much exhaustion pressing down on her, and the only reason her head stayed up at all was because her husband lifted it up and balanced it so it didn't topple forward or back.

"How's that, babe?" Hank asked, his voice pleasantly gentle in her ears. "All nice and comfy?" Emmeline couldn't nod, even that tiny motion felt too much like effort when she couldn't even keep her jaw from going slack and vacant, but she let out a little grunt of amiable acceptance. She really did feel comfortable in this pose, almost like she could simply fall asleep right like this for the whole night--well, the whole day, by this point. It was practically sunup now.

Really, it was amazingly comfortable when Emmeline took a moment to think about it. It felt just as relaxing as lying in her own bed with her own husband, like... like... her mazy, muzzy thoughts drifted back to a dozen years ago, right after their marriage when she was fresh out of nursing school and Hank had just gotten his degree in communications from Alabama State. They both agreed they didn't want kids, not when they had a new mortgage and a passel of student loans to pay off, but they were newly married and randy as fuck for each other and Emmeline knew damn well from work just how often birth control failed. They needed something to do to get each other off that didn't involve screwing.

Hank bought Emmeline her first vibrator two days into their honeymoon, and he never once let her use it on herself--every time it went inside her, it was with his hands guiding it and his voice talking dirty as hell to her while he teased her clit until she whimpered and moaned and begged him for more. He always did have such a sexy voice, it was one of the first things that attracted her to him, and the way he coaxed her into one climax after another in his sultry baritone drawl left Emmeline stupid horny whenever they got the chance to be alone together. He made pretty good use of that communications degree even before he got his job at the local radio station.

And in return, she.... Emmeline's jaw hung open a little wider, drool dripping onto her uniform as she recalled all the ways she got to know exactly what to do to get her husband's rocks off without letting him into her pussy. He tucked the vibrator up between her legs and talked dirty to her every time she sucked him off, and it wasn't long before she started to get her own pleasure mixed up with those urgent, needy thrusts into her mouth as he fucked her face and told her what a good girl she was. Sometimes she fell asleep on her knees, drifting off into that cozy warm pleasure while her lips did just what they needed to do without any involvement from her brain at all. Those were some happy goddamn memories.

They didn't exactly feel like just memories, though. Emmeline could picture Hank's cock so vividly behind her closed eyelids that she could almost swear she was tasting his salty precum on her tongue, and breathing in the musk of his balls with every thrust straight down her well-trained throat. That was probably all part of the dream, though. Emmeline had fallen asleep again, just like she always did when the boys were over and Hank was there to remind her how drowsy she got for him, and now she was having one of her sexy blowjob dreams while she knelt there with her eyes shut and drool coating her chest. Damn. She was probably making a huge mess of her uniform, too.

Strong hands undid the buttons one by one and pulled it away from her body and down her limp, dangling arms, then lifted her up just long enough to slip her skirt and panties off. Emmeline let out an oddly muffled sigh of relief that she wouldn't get anything on them.

With her clothes out of the way, Emmeline could relax into the pleasant dream of wrapping her lips around her husband's cock and sucking the jizz straight out of his balls like a good girl. Twelve years of marriage to Hank had done a lot for her oral skills, to say nothing of her enjoyment of guzzling dick, and it wasn't long before she could hear an urgency to his hoarse breathing that told her she needed to get ready to swallow soon. He was going down her throat with every thrust now, but Emmeline had gotten the gag reflex trained out of her ages ago. She was... f-fuck, she was a perfect little suckslut for her man.

Emmeline didn't wonder why that little notion felt like a phantom buzz right on her clit, any more than she wondered how Hank got so hard again so fast after pulling out of her wet and willing mouth with the last few trickles of his cum smearing across her drooling lips. She simply assumed she was dreaming again, and the tiny confused fragments of consciousness that realized how real it all felt wound up pleased beyond measure to imagine her oral talents so quickly bringing her husband back to full mast again. The best sucksluts were always ready to offer themselves up as many times as it took to satisfy.

By the fourth time her mouth was filled with warm stiff cock, Emmeline knew it absolutely had to be a dream--the most Hank ever managed was three times in an hour, and that was back when they were both young and horny and the way her eyes rolled back in her head while she sucked was enough to get him to spring an erection just looking at her. It couldn't be real, even if the tension in her jaw argued otherwise.

Not that Emmeline minded. She'd developed some pretty good muscles there over the years.

She lost track somewhere around the sixth... or maybe it was the seventh... time Hank pushed his cock between her lips, miraculously hard again and somehow a little bit longer and thicker this time. But it didn't matter. The nice thing about sucking dick was that it didn't require a whole lot of thought, and Emmeline was so sleepy by now she could barely even think about what was happening to her. She could kneel on the living room rug for hours if that was what it took to make sure she drained those balls completely, drool and semen dribbling out of her mouth and onto her heavy tits as she let her mind doze off into vacant bliss to the thrum of the phantom vibrator against her clit. She could do this all goddamn day.

And maybe she did. Emmeline lost track of time the same way she lost track of the number of times she felt a load of hot jizz spurting into her mouth, the same way she lost track of the conversation around her, the same way she lost track of all the other times this happened when Hank had the boys over and Emmeline found herself so unaccountably sleepy. All she knew was that it felt good to offer herself up like a good girl, like a good suckslut, and that made her feel so blissfully fulfilled that she drifted off into a warm drowsy haze of peace and pleasure that ended with her husband wiping her clean with a wet washcloth before lifting her up bodily in his strong arms and carrying her to bed. When she woke up, the boys were gone, the place was neat and tidy... and her favorite rug was drying on the clothesline outside.

But that was what she loved about her husband. He always tidied up... and he always took good care of his possessions.

THE END