power shift

I’m laying in bed with a book. A trashy, steamy romance novel. M comes in the room. “I think I found you a girlfriend.”

He asks me to come out to look at these emails he’s been sending back & forth with a girl he found on CL. He’s lied about our ages since she was looking for people older than we are. I highly doubt I can pull off being 36. I barely look 30, or so I’m told. But she’s good looking, has great photos, seems to be able to write an email without shortening you to u and are to r.

I tell him I’d like to talk to her myself, he thinks that’s a good idea. She is also married but was looking for a couple to play with, and her husband might eventually join in. Again, I’m kind of surprised that M is interested in this scenario, but I’ll go with it.

He puts my hand on his crotch. He’s getting hard, just thinking about what we might do with her. I remind him I’m not up for much action right now, but I’ll give him a handjob. “With tongue,” I add. I assist him in removing his shorts and boxers, and up springs his enormous cock, ready for me. Ready for her, too, it appears. I lay across his lap, licking the head of it gently. The skin is silky on the shaft, and when I wrap my hand around him, my thumb & middle finger don’t touch.

Kneeling on the floor on a pillow, I start working a bit harder. My shirt & bra come off and as I raise up to kiss his mouth, the space between my tits is filled with cock. As it should be.

When we get to the bed, he stands beside it and I lay down so he can fuck my mouth. After a bit he asks me to get the lube and vibrator. M’s ass is mine tonight. He bends over the bed and I pour lube down his crack. As I work one finger in, I reach below with a lubed up hand and stroke his cock and balls. I find myself bending over him, almost as if I were fucking him from behind. I glance over to the mirror, which he sees me do. “You like this, don’t you?” he asks. “I do.”

I’ve gotten the vibe in now, and am pushing it in and pulling it out as fast as I can manage with the lubed up hands. He is moaning in a totally new way. He wants to stand back up, and so I lay down, reaching my hand between his legs to fuck his ass with the vibrator and using my other hand to stroke his cock over and over. As he comes he groans and lets loose an enormous amount onto my tits. After a few seconds, he takes the vibe into the bathroom, washes it and his hands, and collapses back onto the bed. “How was that?” I ask. “We’ll talk about it later. Too soon,” he mumbles and he instantly falls asleep.

 

wait, what?

So, the date. After a bunch of miscommunication, we finally got a sitter for Friday night. It wasn’t someone who we could have had spend the night, so mega-uber-super-awesome date night will have to wait for another time. I can’t tell you what we did, since that will tell you where and who we are; but it was great. There was free wine, let me just throw that out there. We got home, paid the sitter, and quite rapidly found ourselves undressed and fucking furiously.

The next day, as we nursed our tired, hungover bodies, we sat next to each other on the couch. Out of the blue, M says maybe we should go to <insert name of swingers club one city over here> sometime.

*record scratching*

A swingers club? Us? Later on we looked at the website, which is pretty detailed and user friendly for newbies. I’m not sure we’d EVER get to a point of doing any kind of swapping, but he did point out it might be a good place to finally satisfy my lady-lust. We’ll see. But the conversation got started, and almost all our conversation on just about any topic since has been more open, productive, and healthy. That’s a nice side-effect.

And last night we made out like teenagers on the bed and then I gave him a hand- and tit-job. We almost never ‘just’ do that kind of thing. Is this yet another fresh start? Time will tell.

 

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break

It’s pretty rare that M will refer to something he’s read here. He reads, usually, but has remained fairly hands-off. Last night, after filing our taxes (a chore that turned out to be easy, even giving us a few laughs), M disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes, purportedly to look for a book he wanted to start reading. I looked over and he seemed to be fiddling with the bedcovers, which I thought was odd. He came back out and sat down on the couch, and said, “I’m sorry I gave you whiplash last week.”
“Thanks, I guess.”

We looked at a few naked pictures of Violet + Rye. I am typically only able to use onomatopoeia to describe their hotness. He then led me into the bedroom, and roughly shoved me face down onto the bed. My mind immediately started fogging up. My hands were tied above my head, each to a corner of the bed, where his earlier preparations had left us a rope secured for each hand. My clothes were off somehow. He was all over me, fingers, tongue. I briefly popped back into full consciousness when he stroked my sides in the way that makes me remember the ugliness. I jerked away almost violently. He moved onto other areas. The pleasant fog re-descended.

Over lunch  today I told M that I felt that because this is new for both of us that there’s some learning we both have to do. He can be kind of… bull-in-a-china-shop on occasion, forgetting his strength and weight and where he is in space. There were a few moments of “OUCH” in the midst of all the pleasure. But we found our angle, and rhythm, and it was good. There was spanking, with hands and paddle as he fucked me over the edge of the bed. I loved it.

But then, suddenly, I snapped into awareness and needed to take a break. I told him this and crawled up the bed (I’d been untied at this point) to shiver and weep in the fetal position. It bothered me that he just stood there, watching. Finally I gathered up the strength to extend an arm to him and he was instantly at my side, stroking my arms and hair and face as I came back to the surface completely.

He kissed me, and then he was on top of me, thrusting into my still-wet pussy. After a time, his orgasm triggered mine. He rolled off and after a bit, we drifted off to sleep together in the bed for the first time in a while.

reset

Everything I read about depression and having an exacerbating event (like the near wrecking of our marriage followed swiftly by the miscarriage) says that a person might need to only take meds for a short time, to reset and get back into a healthy thought pattern and brain chemistry.  I’m hoping that this is the case for me, and that I’m not headed for a lifetime of being medicated.

M and I needed a resetting, too.  Last night after it’d been a very dark day, I went to the gym for nearly 2 hours.  I truly punished my body, probably overly so, seeing as how I’m essentially physically useless today.  I came home, got dinner done and the kids settled.  We actually went to bed at close to the same time.  And then we fucked.

He kissed me, a lot.  I felt his cock pressing against me and he rolled me on top of him.  Someone asked me the other day what the biggest area of improvement on my body is since starting the gym in September, and I hesitated to tell them the truth, which is that my ass is pretty damn spectacular at this point.  M was reaping the benefits by gripping me there pretty firmly.  His cock felt amazing inside me, and we rocked like this for a while.  We flipped over and were face to face for a while. I like being face to face.  He has such a sexy face.

He turned me back onto my stomach.  I reached back behind me and guided him in. He doesn’t usually talk much during sex, but he kept telling me how good my ass felt against him.  I loved hearing it.  He went faster and faster and finally pulled out and shot his load all over my backside.

This morning my ass was all he could talk about. If that isn’t enough motivation to keep doing what I’m doing, I don’t know what is.

 

sequel

Ever since Natasha and I became friends, she’s been asking for M & I to arrange a sequel to this post.  What can I say?  She’s a total lush, doesn’t want to get her own sexy sex blog, and so she peer-pressures innocent ladies like me to get hammered, have a wild and crazy fuck, and then write about it.  Because I am an awesome friend, I decided to try and accommodate her desires and do just that.

Beyond the fact that it was an amazing fuck, M and I just had a really fantastic time together last night.  He had worked hard, had gotten a lot more done over the past 2 days than he anticipated and was feeling good about that.  I’d had a rough afternoon and was teetering on the edge of allowing myself to fall into that dark place I get sucked into.  The end of my workday was challenging – I was waiting to hear back from someone on something important and never could get connected there, the kids had been particularly (for them) disobedient and, let’s be totally honest, annoying… I was tired.

So once the kids were in bed, I poured a drink.  A large one.  M was tired of the vodka bottle in the fridge, it’s a strange height that doesn’t fit on any shelf.  He declared that I was to finish what was left.  I told him if I did that, I’d be on the floor, would he pick me up?  M: “No, but I will fuck you.”  My jaw dropped.

He wanted to send an email, take a shower, make his lunch for tomorrow.  Then he’d help me finish the bottle.  So I made myself another very large beverage, leaving some for him, and hung out on Twitter with my pals.  M typically has little patience for this, but last night he had the Christmas spirit (or something) and was particularly charming and witty and interactive and participatory.  He’d finished all his things to do, and was being goofy with me and my friends.  I told him to go drink his drink, and to hurry up because he’d promised to fuck me.

He left the room, and went to our bedroom.  In his hands when he came back were the ridiculous Kama Sutra book and the dvd we’d watched on our anniversary.  We lasted about 5 minutes into one of the dvd scenes before he was teasing my nipples.  He forwarded it to the lesbian scene.  Now we’re talking.  In my loose-tongued state, I told him just how much I’m still interested in finding a woman to fuck.  He is on board.

He lifts me up, bends me over the arm of the couch, and starts fucking me.  Spanking me.  He spanked me so hard I wanted to say our safe word.  But I forgot our safe word.  So I pushed him away from me and told him to stop, which he did.  We started fucking again and I turned my head to the side, watching the women on the screen, and I start running my mouth again. Telling M how much it turns me on, the thought of doing that with someone.

We make it to the bedroom, and I ask him to just get on top of me and let’s fuck.  So he does – and it’s SO good.  Soon he wants more friction, which he gets by turning me over on the edge of the bed.  Here’s where some details go hazy, but I definitely remember shouting something to the effect of “I want you to fuck me like this while I lick a pussy!!”  Yeah.  So.

After we’d both had enough fucking and reached orgasm(s, for me), we laid there, talking, laughing.  M suggested we don’t fuck again until Saturday night, when he’s going to spray come all over my face.  I agreed to this, despite how I will feel by Friday without sex for so many days (I know, I know – many of you want to tell me to shut my mouth for that one).  I agree because he’s been giving me exactly what I need the past couple weeks, and I want to do the same for him.  He’s been planning ahead, making the moves, and generally surprising me with his level of desire and creativity.  Reed says I’ve trained him.  I think we’ve just finally gotten on the same page.  I love being here, being with M.

order of operations

We’d decided I was gonna get something on Friday night.  He’d gotten blown and jerked off that morning.  (Yes, even after fucking Thursday night, he wanted more.  a girl could get used to that.)  Both of us were frustrated at the loooong week we’d each had.  The 1/2 bottle of wine left in the fridge was consumed with dinner, one large glass each.  Kids were put to bed.  For once we both felt like drinking more, and so M went out to the store, returning with whipped cream vodka & sprite.  We each had a healthy dose.  Hilarity ensued on Twitter. I made someone who makes me laugh a lot laugh the hardest he had all day (so he said). An episode of True Blood went by and then we headed to bed.

I’d grabbed the vibrator – I’ve got my period and for some reason this time he was feeling squeamish.  I figured I would use that, he’d play with my boobs or whatever, and that would be that.  And so that’s how we started off.  For some reason I decided to turn over onto my stomach, and he cannot resist a good game of grab-ass.  And despite my attempts at denying the truth, my ass does look pretty awesome right now thanks to the gym and its function as one of my anti-depressants.  Before I knew it my underwear were yanked down, he’d gotten out the lube and had started getting us ready for an ass fucking.  The vibrator was still on my clit, and M moved on top of me and pressed in slowly.  After a minute or so he was steadily pulling & pushing, and I was floating.

I don’t remember how long it took me to come, longer than usual, I guess.  It felt great, though, for both of us.  After I had, I asked him to stop, it was getting to be too much to take.  The windows are open now since it’s finally cooled off a bit, I had started to feel self-conscious about the noise I’d been making.  I laid there on my stomach with him next to me, rubbing my ass some more.  And then the spanks started.  I don’t know why we did things in this order, and there was no expectation of this being a prelude to more fucking, but he would spank, then rub, spank, then massage, over and over.  It felt amazing. And then I drifted off to sleep and slept wonderfully.

Ass fuck, orgasm, spanking. I could grow to like this order.

fulfilled

This.  He did it.  And it was fucking incredible.

After the shatpank started to dissipate, and I finally slept a couple of hours, I was a bit more level.  Anyone who’s read even half my blog posts will notice that I take the highs exceptionally well and the lows extremely poorly.  Middle ground isn’t a place I find often.  M hugged me as we woke up, asked if I was all right.  He started to nuzzle my neck.  And then he started whispering things in my ear.  I didn’t think it was still possible that my husband of 10 years could make me blush.  Apparently I was wrong.

We got out of bed and get showered, dressed, kids taken care of.  I’ve planned to work from home, but I have to drop the kids off at the sitter’s.  I get back to the house and he’s just leaving.  “Page 94.”, he whispers.  Of course I go find that ridiculous book, and page 94 has some kind of sitting up position, not my favorite.  He was just saying a random number.

I settle in to work on crap that needs doing.  Reading, emails, answering questions.  Text message: “Check your other email.”  Ah, the one I only use to email my favorite friends.  He’s sent me a totally hilarious but still very hot animated gif of a position he wants to try.  Turtle.  I email him back.  “YES PLEASE.”

Text message: “Get on chat with me.”  What?  We haven’t done that since we were first dating, when he was a 12 hour car ride away.  He types very slowly and makes really funny typos.  One of the first emails he ever sent me contained the phrase “I have the same fars*, douths**, and frustions*** as you.”  (*fears **doubts ***frustrations)  This ought to be good.  And it actually is good.  He’s trying to work me up, as if at this point he needs to.  He still makes funny typos.  “I want to feel your bobs.”  But laughing with him turns me on.

He goes back to work, I keep getting stuff done.  It’s around 3:30.  I’ve got to leave the house at 5:00.  He texts me again.  “You online?”  I reply, “yeah, but I’ve got to finish this up and head out.”  “No, get naked on chat with me.”  WHAT?   Who is this person?  Obviously by this point I’m aware that he’s doing his version of my fantasy day.  But he’s still surprising me.  “I can’t honey, but I’ll talk to you for a sec.”  I send him.  The front door opens.  It’s M.  He couldn’t wait.  The kissing is so deep I think I’m going to pass out.

We’re on the bed, he is already fucking me.  I barely remember getting there.  It’s incredible.

He collapses onto my back when we’re done.  He tells me I’m beautiful.  That he loves how my hair looks right now, my skin is glowing in the afternoon light, that even my wedding ring is more lovely on my finger than usual.

I dress and walk out of the house, grinning like an idiot.

And then this morning we’re at it again.  Quickly, this time.  Seven delicious, perfect minutes.

I think I can officially stop complaining about his libido now.  I love him so fucking much.

headboard

We don’t have one at home.  We never have.

We get to our cabin, walk through it to check it out and both of us notice it at the same time.  M looks at me with a glint in his eye.

Two days later, the glint becomes a bigger gleam.  He’s on top, having already untied my bikini top and pulled it off.  My nipples are still hard from swimming in the cool spring, and he’s got one in his mouth.  My hands are on his head, running down to his shoulders, when he sits up, stops me.  He opens the drawer beside the bed, pulls out two bandannas.  Locking eyes with me, M ties one wrist, then the other to the slats of the headboard, and moves back down my body.

I liked it, for a while.  I typically hate being teased or denied something, but it was kind of hot to cede control a little bit.  But soon it got to be too much, and I asked M to let me loose.  When he did, I felt an uncomfortable tension leave me, and we got back to business.