Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
It took a couple of minutes to come down. She looked at me.
“OK, you wanted me to, and I did it. I took two cocks at once, maybe even three for a minute there, but I am not doing it with someone else. I mean, that was incredibly hot, but it also was incredibly hard, hard to do physically, my legs, my mouth, my back are really tired. This was so much farther out than anything else you had me do this week. And accommodating your passion and mine is hard enough! I can’t imagine welcoming the passion of one or two other men as well. I’d have to be super vulnerable, just like today, super exposed, and where would it lead? Would I still be able to love you after you made me take three guys, two or three or ten times each? Would I fall in love with one of them? I don’t want to subject myself to that much exposure.”
“As I said, Joanie, I can’t make you do anything. You would have to totally cooperate, and you seem pretty clear that it will never happen. Anyway, that was so intense, I’d probably have a heart attack if you did it for real.”
“Well, well, there’s once small little piece of reality piercing your sex addled haze. You do have to be careful what you wish for! One more day, Sam, then it is over. Really over, because I have to get back into professional mode, and I can’t be a whore in the same context.”
“Joan, you aren’t a whore. I’m your husband, not some John.”
“Actually, Sam, I think I am, this week. You’ve kept me, you’ve paid for everything, and I’ve done whatever you wanted, without restriction. I’ve fucked you on demand, sucked your cock five times a day, paraded around town practically naked, gotten myself off over and over again, let you take a thousand pictures of it all….things I would never even think of, much less actually do. Its been fantastically satisfying sexually, it’s true, but that doesn’t really matter–just because behavior like this is in me, it doesn’t mean that it is of me. Its way too imbalanced–it’s too much to expect of me, to become, what did you call me? ‘A quivering ball of orgasm’ at the drop of a hat. What I did for you this week evens the scales for the past ten years. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful that I could give you this, but it isn’t me.
“What I just did, fucking that thing while blowing you, milking your cum out, dripping it down my face like that? Way out there. Just because I liked it doesn’t mean it was something I should do more of. It took the entire week to get me here. And I can’t believe that you still get another day. I don’t know what I can do that will top that.”
“I don’t think there is anything that could top that, Joan. Maybe you can do it again tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “I can’t imagine doing that again.”
“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t, but I promise you we’ll let tomorrow take care of itself. It’s hard to hear what you just said. I know you did this for me, but you were so willingly engaged with it all– it’s not fake. It is an aspect of you that needs nurturing and expression. Please accept this week as beneficial reality that can be approached closer in regular life, enjoying oral sex in particular. We’re getting xslot old, and yet my passion for you is unabated. At this time in our lives, there is so much that could happen, illness, grief–I could have prostate surgery tomorrow and lose my potency forever. I have to treat you as a gift, and this week is a total celebration. We’ve been through a period of years where we’ve just had this pretty vanilla sex on Saturday morning. Sweet, loving, wonderful intimate sex, but not very passionate or creative.
“Today, this week, I feel insanely fulfilled, but I know what worries you about me–that I’ll never be satisfied, that I’ll always want more, more, that I’ll diminish what you have given me this week. I will not ever do that to you again. You have fulfilled me, you do fulfill me, and I can’t deny it. The pictures will remind me, indeed, you have given me everything. You have successfully destroyed any last possibility of blaming you for my frustrations. Thank you.”
Her face had softened during this speech.
“You’re welcome. You can imagine how freeing it is to hear you say that, but I do hear the other part as well. I acknowledge this was real, and I will try to remember, to let it in more at home. It won’t be easy for me, though, once regular life sets in.”
We both were lying on the deck, staring at the sky. I got up and filled the hot tub. We lay in the tub for a long time, without speaking, arms intertwined, her hand on my cock, mine on her clit, overwhelmed by the power that had been unleashed this afternoon. It felt sacramental, somehow. We recovered a bit by the time we went out to dinner at the simple family pizza place on Main Street, and the spiritual power of our union was supplanted by a quiet, joyful, fulfillment, Joan wore a black, knee-length muslin skirt with slits up both thighs, and a bra top with a sheer open shirt over it. No underwear, of course, but it was her most conservative outfit of the entire week. The vibrating egg I had planned to use tonight remained in the room; being together this deeply replaced any need I had to manufacture passion. For tonight, she was orgasmed out, and I had actually had enough myself. We didn’t talk much during dinner, but afterward, she took my hand as we strolled up and down the street.
“I hope you don’t feel bad about me,” she said, “that experience this afternoon, as incredible as it was, was also alienating: I just don’t want to be that far out of myself again. I do love you. You were right that I did need to give you something you needed, but I hope you are OK with where I am.
“I’m too overwhelmed to fuck you now, and may not be able to tomorrow. I cant imagine being easy after what i did this afternoon, but I promise I will have time like this with you again, and I won’t make you wait for years, either. But don’t expect this afternoon again, OK?”
“I’m going to try not to expect anything the next time, so you can surprise me!”
Joan did remember to take her clothes off when I started opening the patio gate, and remained naked until we left the next morning. We did our teeth and fell into the bed, cuddling close, whispering loving xslot Giriş words to each other, and were sound asleep ten minutes after we got back to the room.
The next morning I took one last dose of Viagra and drank my coffee, outside with my book, waiting for her to wake up. She deserved that consideration! The dildos were still sitting out there from the day before. I smiled, my cock twitching at the memory, and took them inside to rinse off at the sink. The noise woke her up a bit. I poured her a cup of coffee and put it on it nightstand, then went back outside and laid the dildos out to dry in the sun.
I hear a rustling, and looked up and saw my naked wife standing in the doorway, steaming cup in hand.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I said, “How are you feeling?”
I made room in my chair and she came and sat in front of me, leaning back against my chest. I wrapped both of my arms around her.
“I’m feeling pretty good, not too sore,” she said. “I’m about as far away from work as I can possibly get, although I’m already starting to think about it again.”
“Uh-oh,” I said. “You’ve got twelve more hours on this track. I wonder if i can think of anything to distract you?” and with that, I reached started lightly touching her nipples. Sighing, she reached up and wrapped an arm around my neck.
“I can’t believe it after yesterday, but I think I actually am ready for you again. Last night I wouldn’t have imagined it! Can I at least finish my coffee first?”
“You just go right ahead, Joanie, don’t mind me,” I said, without letting up on my touching at all. She struggled to drink her coffee as her nipples visibly hardened.
“Oh hell, Sam. You won’t stop that? That’s just mean. I’m putty in your hands! I’m not going to make it through this cup!”
“Well, you don’t really have to, now, do you?” I took the cup from her.
“I guess not. You got to drink yours, though, so you’re all bright eyed and bushy tailed, and you’re just pushing me down into a total hormonal quagmire.”
“Oh, poor baby. You are awake, though.”
“I guess I am. What should I do now? How about this?”
She reached over and picked up the vibrator.
“That’s a great idea, Joan!”
She turned it on, and began running it over her clitoris and pussy lips. She pressed her back against my stiffening cock as her breath quickened yet again. The vibrator started penetrating her. Her hips moved in time with the rhythmic stroking of the vibrator.
“God, Sam, I’m going to come again! I bet I’ve lost ten pounds of fluid this week. Maybe I can go into the weight loss business. Ahhhh, ohhhh, ummm.”
I could see the juices flowing out of her as her pelvic muscles tightened around the device. She held it lightly in position with her right hand as she rubbed her clit with her left. Her orgasm returned, and went on and on.
“Wow, “Joanie’s Fuck-off-your-fat Farm and Orgasm Factory! But you are amazing, amazing! You are just picking up from where you left off, eh?”
Panting, she said, “I’m as turned on as I was, Sam, but I really want to make love to you. If this is our last morning this xslot Güncel Giriş is the memory I want to carry away with me.”
I was overwhelmed with love for this complex, passionate woman and told her so. She slid to the ground, turned around and took my cock in her mouth, slurping and licking and sucking. She used her hand and slid it up and down, squeezing the base of my cock when I’d start to shake, then putting me back in her mouth after my volcanism subsided a bit.
When I just couldn’t get any stiffer I gently pushed her off me and stood up, leading her the three steps to the pad in the sun, straightening the towel as I laid her down. She reached out to me with arms and legs and heart, and I slowly slipped inside like we had all the time in the world. We did. Eventually, I could feel my orgasm building up; the last one of my special week. She could feel it, too.
“Sam, I know you probably want to come in my mouth, and you can if you really want, but please stay here. I want to feel you cum inside me, now.”
It was what I wanted, too. I shot off deep inside her, felt her cum simultaneously as it mixed with mine. I lay down on top of her for just a second, releasing all my weight, crushing her dear form, then easily rolled off.
“Oh Joan, that was so sweet. You look so beautiful lying here. How about if you stay right here, and I pack?”
She laughed, “OK, you probably want me to do stuff, too, don’t you.”
“Truthfully, just seeing you there was enough.”
OK, that maybe was a little white lie. But she couldn’t really stop herself either and lay there for us both, naked until the end, dildo in hand, quietly masturbating until it was time to go.
How did I pack? Not very neatly!
She showered and I hung her clothes, the outfit from last night, by the gate so she was nude until the last possible moment. She put on the skirt but left off the camisole, just slipping on the very sheer overshirt, and stayed that way for me all the way to the parking lot at the Napa Premium Outlets where she finally covered her breasts for the last time.
And after that, it just seemed to be over. I spent a shitload of money on new clothes for her. It was the least I could do, eh? We got home an dealt with the mail and opening our house again, and fell off early in a happy embrace. Unbelievably, the next morning she came downstairs in her nicely tailored wool pants, silk shirt and white doctor’s coat, ate her fruit and yogurt and kissed me goodbye as if the past week had never happened! Women really are amazing.
It took me longer to settle down, but I got to work in the afternoon. I was sort of shattered by the experience, was conservative in bed for the next few weeks, giving her space, and soon enough our normal patterns reasserted themselves, and the week was a memory. I made a separate DVD of her masturbating, the sweet fun of that first night in the black dress overcome by that incredible final afternoon, and although I look at it or the other one almost daily, she has steadfastly refused to be so graphically reminded what she is capable of. But occasionally, when we’re fucking on those vanilla Saturday mornings, she rolls me over and climbs on top, fucking my cock, rubbing her nipples and touching her clit, her eyes closed, a passionate but dreamy look on her face, I know she is remembering the week she was all mine.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32