My husband was on his back when I joined him in bed last night. We talked like lovers do about our day, what we loved about dinner, and the sex we had the night before.
“Your face was buried in my pussy, sweetheart. It was terrific! I wrote all about it on my blog,” I said rubbing his chest up and down taking into account the length of the generally long hairs that cover his body. They are shorter now. He must have done a quick shave.
He ate me out for an hour at least, licking my clit and fingering my pussy. I liked the short strokes pressing on the back side of my clit. My husband calls that the little dick guy. I don’t know exactly which of his fingers he was using, but it felt kinda like a thumb. […]
You know sometimes you just next to stay home, watch Netflix, and drink wine and let your usual yoga class slip by unattended. That was my night last night except that I also cooked dinner in my new InstaPot, red beans and rice with grass fed turkey sausage. It took a few glasses of wine before I could figure out how to use the darn thing without hurting myself.
While it heated up, I whipped up some mashed cauliflower with real mozzarella cheese. My husband loves that stuff but I accidentally ate it all between sips of my pinot. Oops. Not sure eating an entire head of cauliflower is healthy however you want to spin it. I believe that everything is good in moderation, which also means that everything is bad if taken to the extreme.
Nope. Not a housewife. Decided last night abruptly after watching a video that inspired the living daylights out of me. The sensation has been brewing, first as question then as a possibility, and most recently as a statement. I’ve found myself trying on the title, like it’s a pageant sash, throwing it into conversation and […]
Not a word was said. I walked up to my side of the bed and began to disrobe. First went my pants. I unzipped and tore them off. Then I pulled my shirt off my head. I was left standing in the dimly lit bedroom in just a lace bra and panties, cream colored to […]
So what that he fell asleep soon after dinner. We’ll have sex in the morning, I tell myself. And I dose off into sleep world myself. It is soft and light and dreamy and wonderful.
At some point in the night I felt it.. fingers on my pussy. And not just any ole fingers, but the rough assertive fingers of my husband. He had spread my legs with one of his hands and was poking around for evidence of my midnight desire.
“I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you, honey,” he whispers in my direction. It’s 3am and our room is as dark as it is quiet.
