Angry
by Kyle Whitney

That night, we went to bed angry.  We laid each with our back turned to the other, both unable to sleep but unwilling to continue the fight.  I felt her shift and fuss --stressed, like me, and unable to relax.

For several minutes she was still, but then she slipped out of bed and abruptly walked out of our bedroom.  I listened for sounds from the bathroom, but heard nothing.  I sat up, straining to hear any noise.  Was she crying? 

I lay back down, deciding I didn’t care what she was doing.  I closed my eyes and several long minutes passed.  What the hell was she up to?

I got out of bed, taking care to do so silently.  I tiptoed to the doorway and listened again.  I held my breath.  There was something, it was coming from the living room.  I moved down the hallway, shifting my weight carefully, avoiding the places where the floor might squeak.

Just shy of the threshold to the living room I leaned out away from the wall and could see her lying on the couch.  Apparently she didn’t want to sleep in the same bed with me.  Fuck her, then.  I was ready to return to my bed when I noticed movement. 

She lowered her knees, and by the faint moonlight I could see that her hand was down the front of her pajama bottoms.  Her arm jerked vigorously as she masturbated.  But this wasn’t the sensual, teasing way she used on those occasions when she allowed me to watch her.  This was purposeful and almost brutal. 

My cock grew stiff instantly.  I felt suddenly bad that I had driven her to this, but at the same time I couldn’t turn away.  I pulled my cock out of my boxers and watched her.  She worked her hand rapidly between her legs, breathing quickly, but not moaning like she did when putting on a show for me.

What I was witnessing was purely for her.  She attacked her pussy, seeking relief, needing to give herself something that wasn’t about or for me.  She knew how much I loved to watch her touch herself, and she was taking satisfaction from denying me this.  Or so she thought.

She stopped suddenly, then punched the sofa pillow.  For a moment I thought that she had heard me.  I froze, my pulsing hard cock in my sweaty grip.  She pulled off her pajama bottoms, threw them aside, and unbuttoned her top.  I could just barely see her roughly pinching and pulling at both her nipples, harder than I would ever imagine doing.  I continued stroking myself.

She licked the two middle fingers of her right hand and reached back down to her pussy.  Her hand circled there a few times, then she stretched her arm in a way that told me she had pushed those