Sometimes, it really is better to give than to receive.

Meg had spent the past decade giving for our growing family. Despite our issues in the bedroom over the years, I could recognize how incredibly selfless she was on a whole, particularly when it came to our children.

Now, entering her third trimester, her sex drive was still strong but her energy levels had severely dipped. This left her in flux between insatiable horny, but too tired to do much about it. She was trying to keep on top of things as best she could, and I was trying to help out as much as my work schedule allowed, but her exhaustion was evident as she sat despondent at the dinner table, staring at a dinner she had insisted on making.

"Why don't you go take a bath, babe? Just relax for a while", I offered from across the table, above the din of our children's conversation.

"That sounds amazing, I think I will. You good here?" she replied.

"Yep, I have refereed many a mealtime - go soak, and take your time."

I rallied the troops for post-meal dish duty, and we cleaned up the living area before I turned on cartoons for the Littles and set about my true intentions.

I went into our bedroom, and heard the gentle sloshing of water, occasionally interrupted by running water as Meg topped off the heat of her soak. It sounded like she was really settled in. Perfect.

I set about arranging our room how I knew I'd need it. An old quilt across our bed to protect the comforter. Tea candles lit on the bedside tables, dresser and window sills. A pair of Bose 700's sitting next to the pillow. A bottle of warm oil on the nightstand.

I entered the adjacent master bathroom calmly, and Meg lifted her eyes to meet mine inquisitively. I pre-empted her question with "The kids are fine. Season 2 of the Octonauts will keep them occupied for a while"

"I'd better get the kitchen cleaned up before I run out of steam completely then", she said, pulling the drain on the tub and sitting up with effort.

"It's done. So is the laundry. Everything is swept, and there is nothing for you to do but follow me", I said, as I grabbed her towel and held it up for her. Taking my hand, she stepped out of the tub, the water clinging to her skin as I wrapped the towel around her and began to dry.

As she went to take it from me, I pushed her hand away and continued working my way down her body. She stood still as I gently wiped and patted her from head to foot, before wrapping a fresh one around her torso for warmth and leading her by hand into the bedroom. An eyebrow shot up when she saw my arrangement, and with a smirk I said "Lay down. It's time for you to get pampered."

She lay on her back across the old quilt, adjusting the pillow to her liking. I placed the headphones on her and turned on a soft thunderstorm audio with noise canceling fully activated. Silence comes at such a premium in a busy household, and her body visibly relaxed as she settled in to her new horizontal throne.

I set to work with the oil, starting with her left hand as I seated myself, still fully clothed, on the bed next to her. I worked through the webbing of each finger, across her palm, into her wrist and up her forearm - my movements were slow and deliberate, and after several minutes, I felt the tension melt away before laying her arm gently on the bed beside her and working the same process in the other side.

Then I moved to her feet, spending minutes on each, as she flexed them into the pressure and let out small, stifled grunts as I worked through her arches.

"That feels so good", she commented, unaware how loud she was being due to the headphones. I gave a gentle double squeeze of acknowledgement but didn't say a word as my hands began working up the backs of her calves, gravity helping me apply pressure as I kneaded them in my palms. Each new area received the same treatment - a gentle, almost featherlight touch to apply the oil, followed by a gradually increasing application of pressure to areas that felt tense or knotted. Her body would tell me when the mission was accomplished, and I'd move on.

I grabbed her left leg at the ankle and behind the knee and bent, rolling her hips open, before placing a pillow to support her leg and giving the right leg the same treatment. She was now laying completely open before me, her pussy beautiful and on full display. I saw her eyes flutter open momentarily, and I intentionally avoided them as I continued my massage over her kneecap and down her thigh. Once both legs had been covered, I began running my hands from inner kneecap up towards her center in long, slow, firm strokes.

I stopped maybe 3 inches shy of her pussy, but I couldn't take my eyes off it. I had no intention of sexualizing this encounter, despite the erection straining uncomfortably within my sweatpants. But after several minutes of this, I saw a different type of tension building in Meg. Her hips reflexively lowered at the top of my stroke, inching my fingers closer to her pussy. I maintained my form with ritualistic precision, allowing her to move into my motion rather than pressing the envelope myself. Gradually, she worked her way down until my fingers were tracing deep in her inner thighs, just outside of her pussy lips, which were now noticeably swollen.

Burying my thumbs in the crevice of her thighs, I placed my fingers atop her mound and began very gently massaging the creases of her hip joints. I was very intentionally not touching her pussy directly, but as she began to move her pelvis, incidental contact was unavoidable. The dull flush on her chest and in her cheeks signaled the release she was beginning to crave in earnest.

I moved my thumbs inwards and applied gentle pressure to her labia, from bottom to top in a steady motion. Her mouth lulled open as her brow furrowed slightly. I repeated the motion, and her breath caught momentarily. On the next pass, I gently spread her labia, and saw her clit protruding from it's hood, glistening and begging to be touched. Her wetness was very evident now, and the smell of her sex mingled with the scented candles to form an intoxicating aroma.

"Please"

It was barely more than a whisper, and I'm not sure she consciously uttered it. She certainly couldn't have heard herself. Another pass over her labia, spreading them wider and peering into her pleasure center. My cock throbbed in my sweatpants, and I wanted nothing more than to rip them off and dip into the nectar now pooling at the base of her opening - but this wasn't about me.

I gently placed my hand over her pussy, trapping the warmth and moisture emanating from her for a moment. Her hips met my touch instinctively, pressing my palm into her mound and inviting me to continue. I massaged her labia for a moment before dipping a finger slowly inside of her, eliciting a soft gasp. I left it there inside of her while flattening my palm parallel to the bed. With the thumb of my other hand, I pressed against her occupied opening and then stroked upwards. The first contact with her clit sparked a too-loud moan, and I hesitated, listening to the children.

No knock. All clear.

I kept my thumb in contact with her clit as I slowly began massaging the inside of her pussy until I felt the texture change. I circled my finger inside of her slowly, watching her body respond, feeling her clit throb beneath my thumb. As I resumed the gentle stroking with my thumb, I slipped a second finger inside of her and just maintained steady pressure on the spongey patch of her inner wall. My movements were tantalizing, devoid of any urgency or destination. As had been the case with the ligamentst of her feet, her body was telling me what she needed, and it would tell me when she was done.

Her hips were moving in a steady rhythm beneath my gentle stroking. I let my fingers rest atop her mound, my thumb angled down to maintain contact with her clit, and let her set the pace. With my other hand, I began pressing and releasing her g-spot in rhythm with her movements. Her hands clutched the quilt beneath her, and as her body tensed, I continued the circles across her clit and the rhythmic pressure within her pussy until...

"OH MY GOD"

Her hips bucked violently off the bed, heels digging in where I had placed them, and I struggled to keep my fingers embedded inside of her as her orgasm tore through her with force. She clenched her cheeks in the air, and I adjusted my angle to thrust my fingers against her inner wall while stroking her clit through the bliss. The waves continued to wash over her as a trickle of fluid flowed down my hand and onto the quilt.

As she lowered her rear back to the bed, I withdrew my fingers and tasted the nectar. Delicious as always. I resumed my massage of her inner thighs as though we hadn't taken a detour.

My hands had other places to visit, and we weren't done yet.