"Wrap your legs round my back" he grunted as he fucked me.
I did as he asked. It was a little better for the penetration was deeper, but I knew that I was still a long way from an orgasm.
This hadn't happened in our twenty three year-long marriage until a few months ago, but this was now the third or fourth time my husband was having difficulty making me cum.
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It had been a long day and I was very, very tired. As soon as I got back to my room I flopped down backwards on the bed and closed my eyes and just lay there. My feet were aching, my back was aching and I had the beginning of a headache. I felt hot and dirty and my whole body was uncomfortable, as if it had been squeezed inside my dress all day.
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Sex with my wife had been as hot as ever since my first massage with Alex. I wouldn't say the experience has directly made our sex life any better or worse but I do feel a more confident.
My concern that is would alter my sexuality was unfounded. I still found my wife extremely attractive and arousing. My wife has a great body and I look upon it with lust every time I see her.
I was comfortable that I wasn't gay; despite having had what one would have to admit was a gay experience.
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I knew before it was over that I had to write this story, to cement the memory in my mind. To somehow make this surreal experience that once resided only in my darkest fantasies even more real. This was a once in a lifetime experience that's simply too good to let fade with time. So here's my story...
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It started off as a stupid joke, one of those things sororities want entering freshmen to do during rush week. All the older sisters in the house I was most interested in voted that all the new freshman pledges would have to try anal sex before the end of the semester. If we wanted to join up, we'd have to take it up -- up the ass, that is.
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Marie rolled onto her back and stretched sensually. Her back arched as her hands and arms reached out above her head, her hard nipples, perched at the tip of her firm breasts, reaching up towards the sun. She relaxed, resting back on the towel that was still cool despite the heat of the late afternoon sun, her hands still above her head, her breasts taut on her chest.
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He poured the warm oil across her shoulders and it slid down the curve towards the small of her back, drawn to the crease over her spine. Gooseflesh rose out of pure sensual bliss.
That and the thoughts that sliding oil inspired: What if his hands, now warm and large and resting over her shoulder blades, thumbs turned inward, were to continue downward, the thumbs meeting in the center, the hands coming together as her waist narrowed before....
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I was so glad to be on the way home. It wasn't a particularly long or difficult date; I was just ready to be home – home to my loving wife of fifteen years. I know it's a cliché, but my wife really is my best friend. They say that a strong marriage is built on good communication. Well, we have a very strong marriage. We talked about everything – all the time. We would send each other short e-mails or text messages several times a day and usually when my wife came home from work we would often sit on the couch just talking for 30-45 minutes as we decompressed (I get home an hour before she does most days).
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You come home from work and find me waiting for you. I am wearing a French maid uniform with white thigh highs and black stiletto heels. I lead you to the bathroom where a robe and toiletries are ready for you. Relaxing music is playing.
"We have about half an hour until dinner is ready, Sir."
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"Drink then?" Steve asked for the third time.
"Mmmm," came the semi-conscious reply. He was bored, thirsty, and bored. He got off his sun lounger and wandered off to the bar at the other side of the pool, grabbing an eyeful of the blonde in the black bikini, as he walked past, from behind the cover of his shades.
Unbeknown to him the blonde had watched his departure from behind her own shades. She had chosen a spot in the sun next to this nice British couple on purpose - they looked like fun.
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