Tag Archives: love his cum

Somewhere on Cloud Nine

I’m so glad I’ve let this situation just be what it is instead of trying to fix it. In fact, I’m going to pat myself on the back for the patience.

Last night was another disappointment in the bedroom. We had time all last night to make love but my husband choose to spend it elsewhere crumbling into bed at 10pm tired and closed off. He did accomplish intercourse by the definition of the word although it was short-lived and awkward. Literally I coughed him out of me and fell asleep. Promise, it wasn’t sabotage but quite literally an ill-timed feather in my throat! And it took all of the strength I had to not criticize him for the lack of energy and lecture him again on my needs.

Depend Solely on Me

I’ve lost count of the days without sex. Was last night day 10 or 11? My focus seems to have shifted from quantity to quality, from shear connection to deep intimacy. We didn’t make love because my husband set me up. He recommended we watch a movie which always puts him to sleep, and by the time the movie ended, he was snoring like a baby, and I was energized from the story. Total opposites, we are, but it works somehow.

He woke me up this morning tonguing my pussy. As much as I wanted to tell him no, I couldn’t. He has me in the palm of his hand, sexually that is, and I will do whatever he wants.

My Bustling Cackle

We laid in bed last night connecting. I told my husband my big dreams again, this time clearer than ever before. “I want to have a late night talk show with lots of laughs and drama and glam and fun,” I beamed looking up at the ceiling fan in our dimly lit room. “It’ll be a weekly show, well written by strong yet fiercely feminine women and distributed on Netflix or Hulu or something like that. Our audience will be professional women who are seeking more joy in life.”

He might have fallen asleep somewhere between women and joy, but my bustling cackle of a laugh stirred him back to our room and into the conversation. “Oh yeah?” his automatic reply, “Sounds like you’re getting ready to leave me!”

No, No, No More

He came in me not once but twice last night, and I was a ravage beast, fucking him like a whore in heat and begging for more, more more. The back massage worked and what I ended up with when we were laying down in bed was my old husband again, the horny one dying for pussy.

“I haven’t orgasmed in 36 hours,” he said wanting me to feel sorry for him.

“I haven’t orgasmed since Friday or Saturday or… I forget now,” I tease back, “It’s just been so fucking long.”

Greeting the Day with It

My husband has got to be one of the sexiest men in the world. I think his masculinity is what does it. He’s rough and tumble with a hint of class. He’s always on a mission, making calls, building things, directing logistics, and buying materials. That’s what I saw out of the window Saturday morning.

I was sipping coffee and enjoying the fact that I’d slept in. My body was refreshed and soft like I’d been kissed by the youth fairies and could take my time starting the day. My husband was already in his weekend work attire of blue jeans, work boots, and a blue Hawaii t-shirt. I heard him through the glass tell his son something like, “When I move the truck, you need to watch this latch to make sure it doesn’t slip” and “I’ll meet you at the work site in 10.”