It’s the opposite of lust around here and it feels a lot like real love with a splash of intermittent fear. The fear comes from worrying about the lack of desire both from myself and my husband.
We laid in bed last night and kissed. I rubbed his back and chest and we laughed about him being a “fat cat” despite his slender build. Like the cartoon Garfield, my husband was completely satisfied and ready for a nap! After a few moments, though, I could tell he felt the silent pressure.
“You know, babe, we didn’t fuck in the dressing room on Tuesday because it just didn’t feel right,” my husband said last night in bed. It was late, maybe close to 11pm and he was laying on his chest while I rubbed his back. Lovingly I scratched his skin with my long nails and listened […]
The dress is navy blue with gold paisley overlay in the bodice and big fancy ruffles on the bottom. It appears as if I’m walking on air when I glide through the room. “I think I’ll start the night in this one,” I said turning to me husband for approval. My skin was tan, and […]
The kissing was so passionate, like we connected lip to lip and fireworks went off all around us. It was sweet and succulent as I nibbled ever so delicately on him breathing enchantingly and delivering myself fully to the moment.
Last night was the night of breasts. I pushed my buxom chest against his as we locked mouths and felt his fingers run down my back. Eventually they found my nipples and stayed there for awhile squeezing and rubbing gently. Warm erotic feelings pulsed through my body and out my mouth as my tongue made love to his.
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.
He was on top of me and my knees were pushed into my underarms. The room was bright and the bed was cozy cozy cozy. My pussy felt warm and inviting despite the lack of four play. She knows her job and does it well. I didn’t want to get up this morning at all. […]
My husband returned home from a full day out at the property. He’d been on the tractor all day smoothing dirt and getting ready for more to arrive. When he came in, we chatted as he bathed. Our conversation was a bit uncomfortable and lacked its usual flow like neither of us were interested or perhaps crazy about what the other was saying. I understood him at least, yet I questioned whether he understood me.
Sensing the dissonance, I hopped off the counter and went back to the living room to read giving him the space to both finish his bath and decide to join me. I waited 10 minutes, then 20. At some point I did see him walk by the open bedroom door which meant he did know where I was.
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!”
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.”
So I tried, Dear Reader, to rouse my husband from his pain induced coma last night, but to no avail. It’s not that he was that loopy or uninterested even, but rather that I felt uncomfortable with the situation and truly wasn’t that horny! We’re now up to a total of missed sex 6 days in our 2019 daily sex challenge.
He got out of bed in the evening to eat some dinner and hang upside down on his inversion table which helped take pressure off his back. I could see some relief in his labored walk. My husband also raided the sweet cabinet like a junk food junky needing a sugar fix. I think he ate an entire pint of ice cream, a handful of chocolate bars, and some Oreos. It was definitely not on his back pain diet, but at least he seemed to be coming out of his deep tension cocoon from hell.
