Wife went full Super Sex Saiyan on me after I got into a fight (and won)

First of all, this isn't a flex about getting into a fight and winning. [Narrator: it is]

Up until two weeks ago, I had never been in a fight as an adult male. I wouldn't have been in THIS fight if the asshole hadn't cold-cocked me. Also, I probably wouldn't have won if the dude wasn't half drunk. So please, no /r/iamverybadass jokes. I am not a badass by any stretch of the imagination.

So a couple of Fridays back, my lovely wife and I went to a bar for drinks with a friend from her office and her (asshole) boyfriend. Now ex-boyfriend, by the way. I took an instant dislike to the dude. He was loud, opinionated in all the wrong ways (i.e. opposite of *my* opinions), treated his girlfriend like crap (made a lame joke about how one of her boobs was noticeably smaller than the other, was dismissive of her opinions, etc.). And he drank a LOT. Like it was a work/social type of thing, where my wife was trying to add a nice lady from her department into our circle of friends. At least that part of the evening was a success, btw.

As we were leaving, he tried to reach over and grab my wife's half-empty beer glass, presumably to finish it off. My wife had similar thoughts and was going to take one last sip. So she grabbed it away from him and jokingly said "hands off, buddy!" Not in any mean way or anything. Just like she wanted that last sip of her crappy IPA or whatever.

I didn't realize how drunk he was, so it was a complete surprise when he slapped the beer out of her hand and then pushed her shoulder hard enough that she fell backwards. It just came out of nowhere. Who shoves a woman to the ground for not letting you have the last of her beer? It boggles! So anyway...

Oblig Fight Scene Narrative:

Crowded sports bar went suddenly silent. I stepped between them and said something like "what the fuck? why'd you do that?" He doubled down with a two-handed push on my shoulders. Luckily I was in a fairly stable stance so I remained upright. I yelled at him to get the hell away and then turned to help my wife up from the floor. Then, boom- I feel a fist connect with the back of my head. I don't think it actually hurt, to be honest. I saw red, though. Like, I never understood that saying but now I do. I stood back up (sorry about leaving you on the ground, Hon!) and then just started pounding on the dude. I took one- ONE- boxing class in college. I remember exactly two things, like you have to jab a bunch of times and then punch. Sorry, phys-ed prof. I just windmilled the fuck out of it. I might have connected three or four times, but hey- the guy was wasted and I was experiencing a major adrenaline overdose. It was all over in less than a minute. He fell on the ground and started puking up two pitchers of beer and most of a full plate of hot wings (that he had bogarted all night, so karma *does* exist). The bartender yelled "hey! that's enough!" which called me back from my paleolithic rage fugue, and then backed off.

The guy stayed down long enough for me, my wife, and her co-worker friend to leave together. I have no idea how the asshat got home, but part of me hopes he tried to drive and got a DUI (but like, in the parking lot of the bar so that nobody was endangered). I'll skip the description of the ride home, other than to say that it was mostly about my wife consoling the co-worker over what was to be the upcoming dissolution of her year-long relationship. Main theme: good riddance to bad rubbish.

Honestly, I was expecting a stern talking-to when we got home. I was prepared to beg forgiveness and promise to never do that again. Instead, I was jumped by whom I can only assume was the horniest woman on the planet at that exact moment. She dragged me by my arm into the bedroom and started yanking clothes off of me in Hollywood steamy sex scene mode. Normally, we just casually undress. Maybe once, she might have done a little strip tease. We're the "might as well fuck since we're already in bed" types. Not that night. There was actual button ripping. Sayonara, favorite dress shirt!

We rarely make out. We made out that night. Hot, like "I am trying to devour your entire head, starting with your tongue" type of making out. I think I lost a crown. At one point, she noticed that my hands were bruised and I had somehow managed to get blood on one of them (the left, which is weird because I'm right-handed and don't remember getting a good hit from the left).

She licked the blood off my knuckles. I kid you not. She literally licked it off. No words. Just "grab hand, bring it up to her mouth, swirl tongue around" - all while looking me right in the eyes. First impressions: it was kind of hot, although my brain did momentarily try to fire off a buzz killer "is that medically safe?" thought.

Foreplay for us is usually some light finger banging and a little mutual oral to help get the juices flowing and the flag standing at full mast. Tonight, I was treated to a ten minute down-below extravaganza of oral consumption that made me worry that I might end up an eunuch. After that, I was pushed down (not realizing the irony/parallel to the earlier events of the evening) and then ridden like a Prussian charger in the Battle of the Katzbach (Fun Fact: this post is the first and only time I have put my History degree to any practical use).

I've never been able to finish in that position, so I bucked my hips, flipped her over on her back and started pounding. Hard. We're normally pretty gentle in bed, but that night I was damn close to violent. I slammed- SLAMMED into her. Hard, fast, and furious. Like Blücher at the Battle of the Katzbach. (idk, it just seemed appropriate).

Like the Battle of the Katzbach, it was- OK, enough of that.

She came so many times I lost count. Toward the end, one really good thrust would send her right back over the cliff. Not being in possession of a magic reset button like hers, I just got the one prize, but it was a doozy. I started fucking hard and fast and then practically threw out my back with the one that set me off. It was one of those that makes you see the little traces of whiz-bangs in your eyes. The kind of orgasm where your entire body, not just your dick, feels like it just came.

I thought it was over at that point, but my wife climbed out from under me and then pushed me back and -for the first time in her life (she admitted later)- cleaned the combined cum and pussy juices off my cock. That part lasted a while. Longer than I thought it would. I swear, she cleaned my good bits so well that you could have eaten sushi off my ballsack and used my cock as a store display for donuts without getting dinged for a health code violation.

Also novel to the point of being unique, she spent almost an hour doing what I can only describe as "post-sex cock cuddling" with her head in my lap, just occasionally giving me a tiny little suck or kissing the head. The whole time, she sort of "cupped" my balls in her hand too.

The next day, I got a -not unique, but fairly rare- "wake up" blowjob that ended up with a quite satisfying and VERY graphic cum-swallowing episode. "That's your reward for defending me," she said right after. The rareness isn't getting a BJ. She's very generous in that regard. But she's not a morning person (code for "she's a raging bitch monster before her first cup of coffee). So waking up to a mouth on my cock was a surprise. I could probably count the times she's done that on one hand (the left. the right one is usually occupied on other things when I recall those special treats).

In conclusion, I take no particular pride in beating the shit out of a half-drunken asshole. I never even intended to retaliate physically for him pushing my wife to the ground. But based on her response, I have no regrets. Plus the dude deserved it.

tl;dr: drunk asshole pushed my wife and coldcocked me. I responded by beating him up (with lack of skill and absurdly poor form). This made my wife so horny that she fucked me to the point of near unconsciousness.

Bonus update: I just found out that the ex boyfriend was also a co-worker, now fired. Details unclear. I assume the story came out at work or something. Part of me hopes it was because he ate all but three hot wings that I specifically told the waiter was "for the table."