We attempted to make love twice yesterday. By attempted I mean that he physical “stuck it in” but sex didn’t last more than maybe 10 seconds before it ended in a mutual standoff.
The first time was in the morning. I walked into the bedroom to throw my clothes on, yet detoured to the bed for a quick cuddle with my husband. He misread my body language and went right for the good stuff before I could communicate my needs. I needed to leave in three minutes and his desire seemed half-hearted at best.
He parted my legs and pushed his way inside, but “no” shutted out of mouth so fast, it slapped the hard right off his dick. My husband crumbled into a pile of masculine whatever on my side.
“Well, you surely know how to kill the mood,” he muttered.
“What mood?” I asked giving him that look of confusion.
Then in bed at night after a terrific dinner of sushi and tantalizing conversation, we tried one more time to make love.
I was naked and cuddled up next to him. We were kissing and chit chatting and touching each other lovingly. It was obvious that we should be fucking, but my brain and body couldn’t get on the same page.
It was 10:30pm and my husband had to get up by 5am to go fishing. He hasn’t been out in the vast sea in three months and was excited about his upcoming Saturday excursion. The weather was lining up perfectly too! He needed to get to sleep soon.
“I am dying for us to make love,” I said pushing his dick out of my pussy. “But I need hours of your time, not minutes.”
“We’re going to be together forever, Stella,” he laughed and then I did too. “We have all of the time in the world to fuck fast and to make love slow.”
We giggled for several moments on that one. For some reason, it was cute. We were cute, happy and completely at peace with what was turning into yet another evening of no hot sex.
The funny thing about both attempts was that neither of us was mad at the other one. Not at all! We kissed each time, said I love you and went our separate ways secure in our relationship. Perhaps he masturbated, perhaps not. I love him regardless, and he told me twice that I am utterly amazing. We cuddled like kittens and fell asleep. It’s been a funny week.