It all started on New Year’s Eve when my husband and I were celebrating our 5th wedding anniversary. Celebrating really isn’t the right word. It was more like ignoring our anniversary. In fact, I don’t think we really ever said “Happy Anniversary” to each other the entire day. Instead, we were fighting. And by fighting I mean, we just really weren’t getting along. We were faking as much as we could for the family, but the sadness was unshakable.
My husband and I have had a rather beautiful marriage up until now. We’ve been great communicators and congenial partners. Our values are similar, our goals are similar, our ambition is similar. Our sex life is satisfying and regular although he desires it more than I.
It’s a second marriage for us both which statistically is not in our favor, yet I feel like the added experience of what didn’t work previously has made us individually more realistic of the issues we bring to the table.
But people change, relationships shift and saying “I do” is committing to a journey unknown. It might be amazing… or it could be hell. I think most people experience a little of both.
“I don’t know you.” That’s what I said to him on New Years Eve. We were talking calmly in our room as our extended family busied around our home readying themselves for the festivities.
He and I don’t tend to yell at each other. That’s not our style. We spoke slowly, thoughtfully, emotionally making our third and final attempt to resolve an issue that had been plaguing our partnership for the last few months. Tears started to fall.
For the last five years, he and I could easily navigate the waters of disharmony. It’s probably one of the reasons I married him. He could actually say, “I’m sorry, honey. I’ll try not to do that anymore.” Extended fighting wasn’t part of our repertoire.
But this time was different. He starred at me with two stone cold eyes and defended his actions against my hurt yet again. It was the third time in three days.
His body was stiff. He face was angry. And while he didn’t say get over it, he didn’t say he was going to do anything differently. Neither was I. It was a standoff. And the little castle of sweetness that had been the perfection of our marriage started to erode. That’s when fear jumped in.
“I feel so scared.” I told him. He looked scared as if he was just as alarmed as I. Tears filled his eyes.
It was a moment of despair. I stopped looking for an apology and started looking for meaning, hope, a glimmer of sunshine. I glanced at our wedding album that was on the nightstand. God, what happened?
We stopped talking. What else was there to say? I’m not begging and he’s not budging. The sadness engulfed me. Acceptance is miles away.
I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his masculine body. I needed to feel his warmth. I needed a kiss. I wanted his body inside of mine. Why? Hell if I know. Maybe that’s all we could do to find common ground to begin reassembling our castle. But it didn’t happen on New Years Eve.
It happened on New Year’s Day. January 1, 2019.
I was lying on top of him, my back to his chest, my hair in his face, his chin nudging my neck and his hands groping my slender waist. My legs were spread wide open, his dick was deep inside of my body. You could hear the wetness. My God I was so wet. His hands moved from my buxom breast to my tiny little button of ecstasy between my legs.
“I need you.” I moaned.
“I need you, my queen. I need your body, your pussy. I need you to give yourself to me. I need it everyday.”
“Everyday?”
“Everyday. You should be getting all of my cum. Every single drop should go inside of you. Your mouth, your pussy, other men should smell me on you. I won’t masturbate anymore.You’re my sexy little personal whore. “
There’s a reason we don’t make love everyday. Many reasons in fact. I’m a busy girl and his appetite is huge. Why would I agree to such a thing? What’s in it for me?
Having sex everyday would be a new years resolution or more likely a new years challenge. I don’t know if I can really hold up my end of this bargain, but when his dick is deep inside of me, I melt into a puddle of yummy feminine goddess pleasure. I’ll say yes to anything. “Yes sir, my king, every single day.”