We went to visit some family for the Thanksgiving holiday for a few days, and you know that what that means. Vacation sex!
We came prepared. I packed Spartacus. Hubby packed some lube.We planned it for the first night we were here, but after getting everyone packed in the morning, loading the van, driving for 6 hours, and carrying all the luggage up a flight of stairs and unpacking, we were pretty tired. We agreed on a rain check.
So, last night, I jumped into the shower before bedtime (my normal routine) assuming that I'd be getting lucky. I washed myself very well and thoroughly. I shaved my legs. I shaved and trimmed in some other places, too. I threw on my nightgown and headed to the bedroom.
Hubby was already in bed looking at his smart phone. I stood next to the bed on my side and pulled off my nightgown, dropping it with some flourish on the floor. He didn't move. He didn't even look over.
Ok, I thought, that's ok. I'll try a more direct approach. I don't really know a more direct approach for letting a man know you want some sex than standing in front of him naked, but I knew I could try some things.
I climbed into bed and scooched over to his side....until I was stopped by something.
The room we're sleeping in has the bedroom set that my aunt and mom slept in when they were girls.The bed looks like a king size bed, but it's not. It's really two twin beds with the box springs connected in the center Each bed is made separately and the top sheets and blankets are tucked it, so getting to Hubby's side of he bed required pulling out the sheet and blanket on my bed and then doing the same thing to his. Then I could attempt to snuggle up to him without falling between the two mattresses.
Suddenly, it felt like an obstacle course. Isn't sex supposed to be easier?
Before I got to work, I glanced over and hubby was searching for something on e-Bay. He still hadn't even glanced my way.
I started untucking the sheets and blankets. It wasn't easy. Whoever made this bed last used a military-like precision with the intent that it not untuck very easily. Oh yeah, that was me. I had made the bed that morning. I made a mental note not to do it so well for the rest of the visit.
I finally got it done. Hubby still hadn't noticed. I slid next to him and kissed his neck.
"Hello there, " I said, in my sexist voice.
"Hi," he replied. "Just get done with your shower?"
I wanted to say, I've been done for 20 minutes, but I've spent the last ten just trying to get to you. But I didn't. Instead I said, "Yup, and now I'm ready for you."
"Can you give me a minute? I'm trying to find that thing I told you about earlier," he said without taking his eyes off the screen. In fact, his eyes hadn't left the screen the entire time I was in the room.
"Sure," I whispered in his ear. I just lay there waiting for a couple of minutes, then I decided that he could still do what he was doing while I undressed him a bit and got started. I reached down and found the drawstring on his pajama pants and untied it. I slipped my hand under the pajamas, expecting to find the thing I was looking for, but I felt some long underwear instead. I slipped my hand under the long underwear, and I felt his boxers.
WTF? I thought. How many layers of clothing is he wearing? I pulled the covers back a little bit and reached under the sweatshirt he was wearing and I could tell that he was wearing a t-shirt and a long-sleeve shirt under that sweatshirt.
That's when it hit me. He had no intention of having sex tonight. In fact, it looked like he was doing everything he could to discourage me.
That's when I knew I had a decision to make. I could just roll over and go to sleep. I could "take care of myself," either in bed or the bathroom, or I could press onward with the hope that I could get him in the mood for sex. The last option is dangerous. It's where the potential for rejection lies and I really didn't want another rejection experience, but I also knew that picking the last option was the only chance I'd have for getting any sex.
Yes, I was very horny, but that rejection thing is a bitch. I hear men talk about it frequently, how they hate being rejected over and over by their wives until they quit trying. As a spouse of a man who has cheated - a lot - his rejection feels very much like it's about me, even when it's not. He can say that it's because he's tired or not in the mood (for godsake, I thought all men were almost always in the mood??), but it resonates in my heart as "He doesn't want me. If one of those other women were here, he'd probably be in the mood."
That's what started running through my head as I was trying to make my decision about what to do next. I have promised myself that I'm never going to just give up, but pushing forward is an emotional risk that could change the whole tone of the vacation for me.
I made my decision. I slid my hand under the three layers of clothing (yeah, it's cold here, but not that cold) and grabbed his cock and whispered in his ear, "Your minute is up."
He finally turned and looked at me. I smiled. Then he apparently noticed that I was naked.
"Ohhh, I forgot.," he said. "Why didn't you say anything?"
My first thought at that moment was not a very charitable one, but I knew it wouldn't get me laid. So I just said, "I don't know," but I followed it up with, "I'm going to cum in a few minutes. Will it just be me and Spartacus, or will you be joining us?"
He chuckled and put his phone away. Then he began the slow and methodical task of taking off each piece of clothing (six separate articles), folding each one and putting it on the dresser next to the bed. I looked over at my nightgown strewn on the floor and wondered for a moment how we made it 25 years when we are so different in so many ways.
He climbed back into bed and slipped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. Then he kissed me sweetly, gently. This is more like it, I thought.
I was enjoying the feel of his warm skin along the length of my body when I felt his hand slide between my legs. The second he touched my clit, my body jerked a bit. He smiled.
"Ready for action, are you?," he joked.
"Shut up," I replied, and I tilted my hips forward, pressing my pussy against his hand. By that time, I was very, very wet and, yes, ready. He started fingering me, but I wanted something more intense, so I reach up to the cupboard in the headboard and pulled out Spartacus. I turned on the vibrator and started using it on myself, still kissing him.
He moved his hand to give Spartacus more access, moving that hand to my breast. He started pinching my nipple, alternately rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and twisting it just the way I like. Then he pulled away from our kiss and started sucking on my other nipple. I turned the vibrator up to the high setting.
In about a minute I was coming hard, shaking, trying not to make noise. As my orgasm subsided, I turned Spartacus off, tossed it aside, closed my eyes and just enjoyed the sensation of the pleasure pulsing through me.
I know this sounds terrible, but I really could have just rolled over and gone to sleep right then. Of course, I would never do that, and I couldn't have done it anyway because I opened my eyes to find that Hubby had re-positioned himself so his hard cock was right by my mouth. Hmmm. Subtle, isn't he?
I rolled onto my side and took his cock deeply into my mouth. He gasped. I love that. I love being able to take a man's breath away with my mouth.
I suckled him slowly, purposefully. Long, slow, deep strokes. I took my time. After about 30 seconds, I took his balls into my hand and squeezed them gently, sometimes holding them firmly, other times squeezing and releasing in time with the rhythm of my mouth on his cock.
I decided to practice a new technique I'd be working on. I figured out a way to take him into my throat and swallow repeatedly, essentially fucking him with my throat and soft palliate - while still being able to breathe. The "being able to breathe" part is the important thing. I've been able to do the deep throat thing for years, oops....decades, but I'd always have to come up for air at some point. I finally figured out how to do it and breathe at the same time, but it's not easy, so I've been practicing....and getting better at it each time.
I took a deep breath, pressed down and swallowed..... again, again...
"Oh, yeah....." he moaned. I could feel his cock throbbing, getting even harder.
Just as I was getting into it and I was pretty sure he was about to come, I felt him tap my shoulder - the signal to stop because he wanted to fuck me.
I stopped and looked up at him and said, "Really?" He smiled and told me to get on all fours. Of course, I complied quickly. That's when I realized how squeaky and creaky the old bed was. Every little movement made noise, and now I knew that we were really going to start making some noise.
I had barely made it up to my hands and knees when he entered me. It was sudden, forceful, urgent. This time I gasped. I started to move with him, but he told me to be still. I'm not sure if he wanted to be in control or if he was just trying to keep the noise of the squeaky bed to a minimum. It didn't really matter. I started to come again in no time.
I moaned and he reached forward and pushed my face down into the pillow. Ok, quiet it is, I thought. I bit my lip and tried to focus on staying still and quiet as my body shook with pleasure. Hubby finished with a flurry of thrusts that made the squeaky bed bang against the wall.
He held himself inside me for what felt like a long time before pulling out and collapsing next to me. He reached over and took my hand, squeezing it gently. I turned and looked at the clock. It was after midnight.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Hubby," I said.
He looked and me, smiled, and replied, "Happy Thanksgiving to you, too, Kat. I love you."
I love him, too. Very much.