He held my body so tight last night, both of his hands wrapped around cupping the opposite breast, his tender breath on my neck, his hard dick on my butt, and his love engulfing me with the sweetest presence and intensity.
There was so much desire between us. I felt the surge when I tossed my head back and our lips met in one delicate kiss. He squeezed my bosom even tighter.
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.
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.
I’m not going to lie. I did not want to do my job last night, not one bit! And my job wasn’t as easy as simply opening my legs like it normally is. My job was to give my husband a mind-blowing, cum-extracting blow job. It’s his payment for bi-monthly spray tans he gives me, […]
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.”
