Jane's not pregnant

Jane's also not talking to me. Well, that's not exactly true. She is now... but...

This past weekend found us at home, alone, on Sunday afternoon. Lilly (Jane's sister... who's living with us... if you're attempting to keep track of the players) took Miller to the park. We'd already taken Drew and Ralph back to their mother's house, so it was just Jane and I at home. Alone. I suggested we have a little afternoon delight.

Jane thought I was kidding.

I went up to the bedroom and climbed into bed, waiting for her. I think I took my pants off and was holding Mr. Winky when she finally came in the room. I think she then realized I hadn't been kidding.

So, we messed around, and then I got a little playful and decided Jane needed to be straightened out a bit. She didn't want me spanking her, so I got some old ties and tied her, spread-eagle, to the bed. Oh, did I mention she'd just changed the sheets -- new sheets she'd just purchased this week. Nice sheets.

I wasn't sure what to do, and then I remembered this penis ice cube thing in the freezer. I went down to get it. Six inches of ice cock. I played a bit with it, stuffing it into Jane, and then decided she needed something more. So I broke out the purple monster...

The damn batteries were dead. Corroded, as a matter of fact. I had to leave Jane, with the ice cock jammed in her, to go downstairs and find batteries. When I came up, I had with me a popsicle, too. So, I started playing with the popsicle, the purple monster, the ice cock, and my own cock.

I'd stick the popsicle in her drenched pussy, pull it in and out, and then, just as she was screaming about the cold, I'd pull it out and slide my stiff cock in her. The sensation of cold hot was just incredible.

After I finally came, I decided Jane needed a good fucking with the purple monster. When she finally came, she arched off the bed, the ties straining; she screamed so loud I was sure the neighbors were going to call the police.

In the end, she was covered in blue from the popsicle, all over her breasts, her belly, her legs, and her pussy. And she was quite spent.

That was Sunday.

Monday found me at work (where else would I be, right). Jane called to chat. I was between machine set-ups, so I had a couple of minutes. And she started telling me about Lilly... that Lilly had just gotten back from her new boyfriends and he'd done her good and her ass was raw from the spanking he'd given her (the "dirty little slut" that she is) and she was now standing there, in the dining room, and she was shaved bare. I got this image of Lilly, her lithe body and her shaved pussy and her fuckable ass, and I got a little hard-on just thinking of that image...

That was Monday.

I don't remember Tuesday, but Wednesday found me having woken up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess, and when I went downstairs and was confronted with the mess -- including the dirty dishes that Jane had said the night before she'd do -- I guess I just broke. I said a few things, taking digs at Jane's housework. That wasn't the thing to do. She started throwing things, including a couple of high-heeled shoes. Thankfully, she wasn't throwing them at me, although I was afraid she was going to. Like the time she threw the frozen sausages at me. I ended up going off to work thinking I should stay away forever.

When I got back that evening, she wouldn't really talk to me. She'd told me earlier we were going to have meatloaf for dinner. I'd been looking forward to meatloaf all day. I arrived home a bit before 6:30 to discover that she and Lilly and Miller had all eaten, and it wasn't meatloaf but Sloppy Joe meat and I could just eat alone, thank-you-very-much.

That sucked, let me just tell you.

Thursday, Jane was talking to me, sort of. I least she laughed several times when I made a funny.

But no sex since Sunday. And likely not to get any for a long, long time.

Maybe Lilly needs a strong hand on her ass?

P.S. Yes, the f*cking nuts never got mailed. I don't think they need to, as Beth (sometimes referred to as She Who Must Not Be Named has dropped off the face of the earth. There's no need to actually mail the nuts. Beth -- and all the other women -- are non-issues. They are, how's it go, dead to me.