His Sorry Messed Us Up

“I’m so sorry, babe,” my husband says this morning in bed. We both are on our side and looking each other straight in the early morning eye. “I think I drank too much last night.”

“You think?” I teasingly snapped back. “Why didn’t you just come home when I did?”

“I didn’t think I stayed that much longer, but something about a burning a fire and sipping a few drinks made time fly by.”

An Ancient Rapture

“I need some pussy,” my husband whispered in my ear last night. I was already asleep not because it was that late, but because I was that tired. I’ve been more tired than usual this week.

“Oh, ok,” I woke up slightly remembering that he and I had yet to make love that day. Glad I’m not the only one to keep this challenge alive. My husband is blessed (or cursed) with the physical need to release sperm from his body every 24 hours at least. Like clockwork, he doesn’t just want sex, he needs it like I need sleep.

Swallowing a Rhyme

I’ve spent all evening in bed.. pecking away at my laptop, sipping some pinot, skipping yoga, and thinking up fun ways to spread my legs tonight.

I’m horny. I’m not even going to deny, and pretty soon my husband will be coming home with the kids. I’ll let him feed and clean up. Maybe I’ll don a new little lingerie piece? I can’t wait to feel him inside.

How should we do it tonight? Should I tell him about last night’s model? I do need to warn him that my upcoming monthly visit from Aunt Flow might certainly change our recent repertoire. Guess that means I’ll be doing a lot of blow.

Free at the Fashion Show

He jacked his dick off in my mouth yesterday morning. Check (for him), but by the time I got home from a fashion show late last night, my husband was sleeping like an angel. No sexy time for me, unless you count the silliness going on at the show. Then maybe Stella Stories can take a trip outside of the my goddess palace for today to visit the people and places that make up my world.

In my world, I’m a star. There’s no bones about it. You might not know me, but I assure you plenty of people do. And most of them like me too, including my friend who runs the fashion show.

Suck It Like a Good Girl

I spritzed on perfume in our luxurious bathroom. He sprayed his cologne in our walk in closet. We met in the middle of my goddess palace.

“Let’s practice our dance, Stella,” My husband said as he reached out his hand to mine. “You handle the music, and I’ll handle you.”

I blushed and reached for my phone. I was naked still, wearing only my sparkly nude tango heals. The only light in the room came from the two bed side lamps and a flicker of my favorite candle on the coffee table.

Whether or Not You Want to

Well that didn’t last long… the twice-a-day sex my husband proposed yesterday. Filled with such desire after secretly reading my online stories, he planned both an evening and morning routine for us for the rest of the year. But this morning he didn’t touch me.

“You’re cut off,” he said as he dressed.

Twice-a-Day Whore

“So the girl down the street has a tighter pussy, huh?!?”

I’ve been caught. I blush. My husband has been reading my posts.

“No. Please. Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” I’m embarrassed to think of how much he knows about my nasty fantasy life now. I put my hands over my ears, but he goes on.

“The three guys knew about the four guys from earlier. You little fucking whore.” My husband was laying in bed with his phone in his hand. My website was on the screen. His dick was raging hard like a thick stick.

Bad Girl

I was a bad girl last night.

A few girl friends came over, and we drank several bottles of champagne between us. By the time my husband got back, I was what you might call tipsy. Not drunk, no I’ve only been truly drunk a few times in my life, but I was definitely feeling a bit more chatty than usual. My cheeks were rosier too. My laughs were louder. Then I wanted to dance.

The Fuck Me Text

lease come fuck me. I need you now. That’s what my text message said to him.

On my way, was his reply.

When my husband walked in the door to my goddess palace (that’s what I call our master bedroom), he found me lying on the bed, legs spread, tits hanging out, pussy covered in coconut oil and my fingers playing in her yummy lips. It was 4:30 Thursday afternoon.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at the scene as he walked to the sink to wash his hands. I didn’t say anything either.

Rubbing My Button

He slid himself in again, this time easier than before. Between the spitting and the fucking and the rubbing and the stories, I was feeling more stretched out. His dick reached the back of my pussy and rubbed my g-spot. His strong arms on either side of my ears flexed as he buried his entire dick inside. There was nothing left. All of him was in all of me.

I cam. Couldn’t stop it. All of my pleasure released into the room and I groaned loudly. My ears started to muffle as they generally do when I climax. Everything is right with the world.