Hubby is out and about with friends tonight and I'm at home being Mom. Well, I'm always Mom, but you know what I mean. I'm caring for the kittens.
He texted me a few minutes ago.
"I forgot to tell you, I took a pill. :-D"
Of course it's obvious what pill he was talking about because he never gets all smiley over his blood pressure pill or his vitamins.
His text was Hubby-speak for "Let's have sex tonight."
What happened to the days of cuddling and talking and sex arising as a spontaneous result of desire? Most of the spontaneous thing left when kids came along. Now, it all comes down to a medical announcement.
Great. I guess the few hours of being with the kids between now and when he gets home is supposed to be the foreplay.
I hate to project negatively, but if tonight is anything like the last several times a pill was taken, it won't be anything to write home about. Know what I mean? It's not all his fault, either. It takes two for sex to be as boring and routine as ours. I've tried to initiate new things, but we always end up going back to the same old thing. I could do a better job of faking excitement, I suppose, but that's very hard to do with a man who won't kiss you.
I've talked about, and many of you have experienced, the pain of rejection when you tell your spouse you'd like to have sex and he (or she) rebuffs your advances. It sucks. But trying to build up some excitement during the act and to have that ignored is a kind of rejection, too. Who knew it would be possible to feel rejection during the act of sex? Well, it is.
In those situations, is that act of intercourse better than not having sex at all? I don't think so. Not having sex with the person you love can be frustrating and upsetting, but having soulless, completely unpassionate sex can be worse because you go into it thinking you have a chance for some intimacy when in reality it's just something physical. Two animals copulating. Wow. Who wants that? Many may choose to live with it, but who would want that kind of a sex life?
Not me.
I'm sure it doesn't help that I have experienced what real passion and intimacy are, so the comparison makes "pill nights" feel even more empty.
I'm sure I'll hear from people who have no spouse or partner telling me that I should be grateful. I am grateful, very grateful, for my husband. I love him very much. He means the world to me. He's the father of my children. But I'm not going to pretend I'm grateful for spirit killing sex. No way. That's like saying that you're grateful for financial problems because at least it means you have something to lose.
Above all, I am frustrated. How can two people who love each other as much as we do, who have been committed to each other for so long, who have been through hell and back together, who can talk to each other about just about anything be so incapable of making an intimate and satisfying sexual connection? I don't get it. There was a time when it was there. That's why we continue to chase it and try, I think.
I've thought about talking with him about it .....again.....but how do you tell someone you love that you feel so distant from them during sex that it's painful? That you feel closer to them and more connected when they're sick and puking their guts out than you do during sex. That you feel closer to them just about anytime than you do during sex. How do you do that? And how do you change it? We've tried the books and videos and all the professional advise over the years. It helped a little. The best post-children sex we ever had was the night he learned I had been cheating. That lasted for a few months. He was making an effort to compete, I think, and if he would keep doing that our sex life would be good. Not great, but good. But he fell back in the old routine and I let him....and here we are.
When the pill text came, I just looked at it for a moment and felt the flood of emotions wash through. Then I responded with a cute little texted kiss, exactly what was expected of me. I'll take a shower later on and pick up the bedroom, and pull out some lube and some toys (that won't be used). I'll go through the motions of getting ready. When he comes home, I'll decide. Do I try to spice things up with enthusiasm and sheer will and risk feeling that during-the-act-rejection? Or do I just go with the flow and see if something magically changes?
It's not that I don't like sex. To the contrary, I love it! But sex without enthusiasm and passion is not what I want. I can get that from someone from my AM phone list very quickly, without the emotional struggle of wishing it were better.
At this point in my life, I want more.
Showing posts with label hubby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hubby. Show all posts
Friday, July 18, 2014
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
Knock at the Door
It all started with a knock at the door.
My son looked out the front window and shouted to me that it was a friend of Daddy's. I opened the door expecting it to be one of Hubby's buddies. Instead, I was looking at Hubby's favorite playmate from a few years ago. Twenty-something. Blonde. Not gorgeous, but not unattractive. I just stared at her.
She looked like a deer in the headlights. She stuttered and finally managed to ask if Hubby was home.
That's when I realized what was going on. Hubby had taken my car to the shop to have some work done. So, it was the middle of the day on a weekday and only his car was in the driveway.
She wasn't expecting me to be home. She thought she'd find Hubby there alone. Un-fucking-believable.
I told her that he wasn't home. She asked if she could have his phone number because she lost it. Seriously. She asked ME for my husband's phone number. I told her I couldn't do that, but if she gave me her number I could call him and pass on her message. I grabbed some paper and wrote down the number.
Let's back up for a moment. You may remember that Hubby came clean about his extracurricular activities a couple of years ago when one of his skanks tried to blackmail him. She wanted cash in exchange for not telling me about their affair. He decided to tell me rather than pay her, which was the right thing to do, of course. As we talked about it, I learned that he had been seeing several women for a long time. The one standing in front of me was his favorite and the only one that he used to bring into our home for sex.
Not only did he bring her to our home, but he fucked her in our bed - many times. That was a big deal for me. I was (and am) ok with him playing with other women, but not in our home and not in our bed. It's a simple matter of respect for me. He agreed he would never do it again, yet her she was standing on my porch at a time when he should have been home alone.
After she gave me her number, she didn't know what to do. She apologized for bothering me. I told her it was no bother at all. Then, after another awkward moment or two, she turned and walked away.
I was too angry to call Hubby, so I texted him. "M just showed up at the door and asked for you. She asked for your number but I refused and I got her number instead. xxx-xxx-xxxx. She would like you to call her. When you speak with her, please tell her I never want to see her at my home again.When we talk later, you may want to be prepared to answer some questions. What the fuck was she doing here?!? Why did our son know her?? He called her 'Daddy's friend'.Are you still seeing her? Remember our deal? If you screw around then I can do it openly, too. You should think about these things before you come home."
Within 15 seconds of hitting Send, my phone rang. It was Hubby.
"I have no idea why she came to the house," he said. "I haven't seen her for a couple of years and I told her never to come to the house." He sounded a bit frantic.
"I suggest you make that clear to her again."
"Do you believe me?" he asked quietly.
I thought about it for a moment. Then I answered, "No, I don't believe you, but that really doesn't matter. I don't want her anywhere near our home and I don't want her anywhere near our son. You need to make sure she complies."
He agreed and said he would call her and straighten things out.
About ten minutes later, the phone rang again. It was him, but I didn't answer. Whatever he had to say, it could wait until he got home in a couple of hours.
I spent some time thinking about what had happened, trying to figure out what I was feeling. I was definitely angry, not because of the likelihood that he was still seeing her, but because she came to the house. Because I opened the door and there she was. Because Hubby had obviously had her over when my son was home. Because I just didn't want to deal with her. I shouldn't have to deal with her. If I could keep my playmates completely away from him, why couldn't he manage to do the same for me?
Yeah, I was angry.
When Hubby got home, he told me that he called her and she started apologizing as soon as she answered the phone. He said she promised she would never come by the house again, under any circumstances. He said she came by because she thought he'd be there alone and she was interested in starting things up again.
That was already obvious to me, but I was glad he was honest enough to say it.
We talked a bit more about my anger that our son knew her. He apologized and said he knew that was wrong and he shouldn't have had her over when our son was home.
And he swore repeatedly that he hadn't been with her for a couple of years. I finally stopped him because I was tired of talking about it. I didn't believe him anyway and no amount of talking would change that. Besides, as I said before, it really didn't matter. I didn't (and don't) object to him having sex with twenty-something playmates. I'm not that young anymore and I certainly can't offer a 25 year old pussy. If he wants to get that, he can. But he needs to follow the rules and be discreet.
The last thing I said to him that night when we got in bed was that I don't ever want another visit like that. He agreed. Then he asked if I wanted to fool around. Seriously. After all of that, he asked for sex.
I was stunned, silenced in disbelief. Then I thought about it and answered.
"Sure, why not?"
My son looked out the front window and shouted to me that it was a friend of Daddy's. I opened the door expecting it to be one of Hubby's buddies. Instead, I was looking at Hubby's favorite playmate from a few years ago. Twenty-something. Blonde. Not gorgeous, but not unattractive. I just stared at her.
She looked like a deer in the headlights. She stuttered and finally managed to ask if Hubby was home.
That's when I realized what was going on. Hubby had taken my car to the shop to have some work done. So, it was the middle of the day on a weekday and only his car was in the driveway.
She wasn't expecting me to be home. She thought she'd find Hubby there alone. Un-fucking-believable.
I told her that he wasn't home. She asked if she could have his phone number because she lost it. Seriously. She asked ME for my husband's phone number. I told her I couldn't do that, but if she gave me her number I could call him and pass on her message. I grabbed some paper and wrote down the number.
Let's back up for a moment. You may remember that Hubby came clean about his extracurricular activities a couple of years ago when one of his skanks tried to blackmail him. She wanted cash in exchange for not telling me about their affair. He decided to tell me rather than pay her, which was the right thing to do, of course. As we talked about it, I learned that he had been seeing several women for a long time. The one standing in front of me was his favorite and the only one that he used to bring into our home for sex.
Not only did he bring her to our home, but he fucked her in our bed - many times. That was a big deal for me. I was (and am) ok with him playing with other women, but not in our home and not in our bed. It's a simple matter of respect for me. He agreed he would never do it again, yet her she was standing on my porch at a time when he should have been home alone.
After she gave me her number, she didn't know what to do. She apologized for bothering me. I told her it was no bother at all. Then, after another awkward moment or two, she turned and walked away.
I was too angry to call Hubby, so I texted him. "M just showed up at the door and asked for you. She asked for your number but I refused and I got her number instead. xxx-xxx-xxxx. She would like you to call her. When you speak with her, please tell her I never want to see her at my home again.When we talk later, you may want to be prepared to answer some questions. What the fuck was she doing here?!? Why did our son know her?? He called her 'Daddy's friend'.Are you still seeing her? Remember our deal? If you screw around then I can do it openly, too. You should think about these things before you come home."
Within 15 seconds of hitting Send, my phone rang. It was Hubby.
"I have no idea why she came to the house," he said. "I haven't seen her for a couple of years and I told her never to come to the house." He sounded a bit frantic.
"I suggest you make that clear to her again."
"Do you believe me?" he asked quietly.
I thought about it for a moment. Then I answered, "No, I don't believe you, but that really doesn't matter. I don't want her anywhere near our home and I don't want her anywhere near our son. You need to make sure she complies."
He agreed and said he would call her and straighten things out.
About ten minutes later, the phone rang again. It was him, but I didn't answer. Whatever he had to say, it could wait until he got home in a couple of hours.
I spent some time thinking about what had happened, trying to figure out what I was feeling. I was definitely angry, not because of the likelihood that he was still seeing her, but because she came to the house. Because I opened the door and there she was. Because Hubby had obviously had her over when my son was home. Because I just didn't want to deal with her. I shouldn't have to deal with her. If I could keep my playmates completely away from him, why couldn't he manage to do the same for me?
Yeah, I was angry.
When Hubby got home, he told me that he called her and she started apologizing as soon as she answered the phone. He said she promised she would never come by the house again, under any circumstances. He said she came by because she thought he'd be there alone and she was interested in starting things up again.
That was already obvious to me, but I was glad he was honest enough to say it.
We talked a bit more about my anger that our son knew her. He apologized and said he knew that was wrong and he shouldn't have had her over when our son was home.
And he swore repeatedly that he hadn't been with her for a couple of years. I finally stopped him because I was tired of talking about it. I didn't believe him anyway and no amount of talking would change that. Besides, as I said before, it really didn't matter. I didn't (and don't) object to him having sex with twenty-something playmates. I'm not that young anymore and I certainly can't offer a 25 year old pussy. If he wants to get that, he can. But he needs to follow the rules and be discreet.
The last thing I said to him that night when we got in bed was that I don't ever want another visit like that. He agreed. Then he asked if I wanted to fool around. Seriously. After all of that, he asked for sex.
I was stunned, silenced in disbelief. Then I thought about it and answered.
"Sure, why not?"
Thursday, June 5, 2014
My Little Slice of Heaven .....and Other Randomness
My "little slice of heaven." That's what I call my woohoo, and none of you guessed it! You came up with some fun guesses, though. My favorite was "Batter's Box," submitted by my buddy, Max. I wish I could reward Max with some time of his own in my Batter's Box, but he lives a few thousand miles away. Such a shame. ;-)
I've been spending more time with Spartacus lately than I usually do. For those of you don't know, Spartacus is my favorite vibrator. He's quite loyal and always there for me, and he never disappoints. It's never the same way twice with him, which is a concept that seems to elude Hubby.
So here I've been over the last month, hornier than I have been for a long time, and....well, nothing. Almost nothing. Hubby is....well.....he's who he is. JJ is busy. T is also unavailable, although we did have some very nice phone sex recently. That was lovely. C is monitored more closely by his wife than are most inmates in a maximum security prison. D is on vacation. And SNS Guy remains two thousand miles away. What's a hungry Kat to do? I've attacked poor Hubby a couple of times out of pure frustration, but the lack of passion there really doesn't do much to quench my thirst, if you know what I mean.
So I just give Spartacus a new set of batteries and make do. Hubby gave me some rechargeable batteries and a new charging station recently. That helps. Always thinking about saving money, dear Hubby.
I put lube on the family shopping list last week and Hubby asked what is was for. I answered, "If you don't know, then it has been waaaaaaaay too long......"
He continued to stare at me, so I said, "Spartacus is thirsty."
His eyes widened a bit with recognition and he replied with, "Oh. Ok. Is there any particular variety that Spartacus wants?"
"Spartacus likes what you like," I answered with a devilish smile.
"Oh." And that was the end of the conversation. {{{sigh}}}
On another topic......I'm in the process of writing a smutty romance novel. I've shared several chapters with a few friends, including SNS Guy and Married Guy, but I'm stuck now, not because of writer's block, but because I'm so busy with work and family that finding time is very difficult. I know you understand because the same issue has kept me from writing here as often as I would like.
As I make progress on the novel, however slow that progress may be, I've learned that I'm much better at writing smut than I am at writing romance. I can write a hot sex scene, but guiding characters through sharing their deepest feelings is much more difficult. probably because sex is much easier for me than sharing feelings.
When I told my therapist about the book, she said, "Feelings? Romantic feelings? You're really going to write about that?" And then she smiled that hideously condescending smile that she takes on sometimes. She invited me to share some feelings I've had recently.
(crickets)
If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me how I feel about something, I'd be rich. The last time I was with T (who she knows as Xavier, just because we all live in the same town and I wanted to be sure that his identity was safe), she asked what feelings I had for him. There was a long silence. Not an uncomfortable one, just a long one.
"I like him very much. I'm not in love with him. I enjoy his company. I get annoyed when he pulls away from me like I'm a threat to his freedom, but I can live with that."
It's at that point that she usually points out to me which of the things I've just said were really thoughts or attitudes, but not feelings. Now she just has to repeat the word, "Feelings."
"Ok, ok, I said. Affection. Occasional rejection and annoyance. Comfortable. Caring? That's all I got. Except for the fact that he turns me on sexually like you wouldn't believe. I hear his voice and I'm wet and ready. Where's that on the feelings chart?"
It reminded me of the first time Hubby and I went to marriage counseling. He said something and the counselor looked at me and said, "So, Kat, how does that make you feel?" And Hubby started laughing. The counselor was shocked and started to tell Hubby how inappropriate it was to laugh at me, but Hubby explained, "She can't tell you how she feels. At least not on the spot. She'll have to answer you next week." He was right. I'm much better at identifying feelings now than I used to be, but it can still be a challenge for me.
Anyway, my instinct is to have my two main characters fucking all the time - at least as often as I want to, which is a lot. Fucking on the bus, on the bed, on the kitchen table, in the elevator, in the car, in the shower. But in a smutty romance novel, there must be some romance, so I need to build them up to fucking with some romance and feelings. Ugh.
In the prowling world, the romance and feelings often, although not always, follow the initial sexual encounters. That, I understand.That, I can describe quite well.
Maybe that's the novel I should be writing.
I've been spending more time with Spartacus lately than I usually do. For those of you don't know, Spartacus is my favorite vibrator. He's quite loyal and always there for me, and he never disappoints. It's never the same way twice with him, which is a concept that seems to elude Hubby.
So here I've been over the last month, hornier than I have been for a long time, and....well, nothing. Almost nothing. Hubby is....well.....he's who he is. JJ is busy. T is also unavailable, although we did have some very nice phone sex recently. That was lovely. C is monitored more closely by his wife than are most inmates in a maximum security prison. D is on vacation. And SNS Guy remains two thousand miles away. What's a hungry Kat to do? I've attacked poor Hubby a couple of times out of pure frustration, but the lack of passion there really doesn't do much to quench my thirst, if you know what I mean.
So I just give Spartacus a new set of batteries and make do. Hubby gave me some rechargeable batteries and a new charging station recently. That helps. Always thinking about saving money, dear Hubby.
I put lube on the family shopping list last week and Hubby asked what is was for. I answered, "If you don't know, then it has been waaaaaaaay too long......"
He continued to stare at me, so I said, "Spartacus is thirsty."
His eyes widened a bit with recognition and he replied with, "Oh. Ok. Is there any particular variety that Spartacus wants?"
"Spartacus likes what you like," I answered with a devilish smile.
"Oh." And that was the end of the conversation. {{{sigh}}}
On another topic......I'm in the process of writing a smutty romance novel. I've shared several chapters with a few friends, including SNS Guy and Married Guy, but I'm stuck now, not because of writer's block, but because I'm so busy with work and family that finding time is very difficult. I know you understand because the same issue has kept me from writing here as often as I would like.
As I make progress on the novel, however slow that progress may be, I've learned that I'm much better at writing smut than I am at writing romance. I can write a hot sex scene, but guiding characters through sharing their deepest feelings is much more difficult. probably because sex is much easier for me than sharing feelings.
When I told my therapist about the book, she said, "Feelings? Romantic feelings? You're really going to write about that?" And then she smiled that hideously condescending smile that she takes on sometimes. She invited me to share some feelings I've had recently.
(crickets)
If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me how I feel about something, I'd be rich. The last time I was with T (who she knows as Xavier, just because we all live in the same town and I wanted to be sure that his identity was safe), she asked what feelings I had for him. There was a long silence. Not an uncomfortable one, just a long one.
"I like him very much. I'm not in love with him. I enjoy his company. I get annoyed when he pulls away from me like I'm a threat to his freedom, but I can live with that."
It's at that point that she usually points out to me which of the things I've just said were really thoughts or attitudes, but not feelings. Now she just has to repeat the word, "Feelings."
"Ok, ok, I said. Affection. Occasional rejection and annoyance. Comfortable. Caring? That's all I got. Except for the fact that he turns me on sexually like you wouldn't believe. I hear his voice and I'm wet and ready. Where's that on the feelings chart?"
It reminded me of the first time Hubby and I went to marriage counseling. He said something and the counselor looked at me and said, "So, Kat, how does that make you feel?" And Hubby started laughing. The counselor was shocked and started to tell Hubby how inappropriate it was to laugh at me, but Hubby explained, "She can't tell you how she feels. At least not on the spot. She'll have to answer you next week." He was right. I'm much better at identifying feelings now than I used to be, but it can still be a challenge for me.
Anyway, my instinct is to have my two main characters fucking all the time - at least as often as I want to, which is a lot. Fucking on the bus, on the bed, on the kitchen table, in the elevator, in the car, in the shower. But in a smutty romance novel, there must be some romance, so I need to build them up to fucking with some romance and feelings. Ugh.
In the prowling world, the romance and feelings often, although not always, follow the initial sexual encounters. That, I understand.That, I can describe quite well.
Maybe that's the novel I should be writing.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Two Couples and a Hot Tub, Part 2
If you missed Part 1, you can read it here.
---------------------------------------
After a few moments, Hubby turned his attention to Susan's boobs as she rode him. It felt a little surreal to see him with someone else, like I was watching two people I didn't know.
Bud reached over, grabbed my wrist and pulled me over to him and I just let myself float as he was directing me. He sat me on his lap and starting touching me, sliding his hands all over my body. He lingered at my breasts. I moaned when he pinched one of my nipples.
"You like that?" he asked me.
"Yes," I purred.
"Would you like it a little harder? Like this?"
He pinched my nipple harder. I nodded yes. He pinched harder and harder until I started grinding my pussy against his leg. He smiled.
"Well, well, well," he said. "You like a little pain. That's wonderful." Then he released my nipple and began sucking on it as he moved his had between my legs and started rubbing my clit. It was clear he knew what he was doing because I was ready to come in about 30 seconds. He kissed my neck and I relaxed, ready to come. I turned to look at Hubby and Susan and it was clear that she was coming, and they were kissing passionately.
It felt like I was hit with a lightning bolt of jealousy. I gasped and my eyes were instantly filled with tears. I was confused. I wasn't jealous a moment ago. I had been fine. What happened? I knew it was seeing the kiss that pushed me over the line. It was so very intimate. Why was I fine with him fucking another woman, but not kissing one?
The tears in my eyes were about to burst forth into full on weeping when Bud turned me around, put his hands on either side of my face and redirected me. He looked directly into my eyes and told me it was ok, that Hubby loved me, that I didn't need to be jealous or afraid. The tone in his voice was so calm, so reassuring. He held me and shifted so we were directly across from them in the tub and my back was to them. He kissed me gently and went back to playing with my clit. I took a deep breath and focused on the pleasure. He quickly had me right back to where I was before I saw Hubby and Susan kissing.
I could feel that Bud was hard again. I reached down and felt his cock. Very thick, 9 or 10 inches. I looked at him and smiled as I lifted myself up and took him inside me. I put my feet on the side of tub on either side of him so I could slide up and down his shaft without any part of me touching him except my pussy. He moaned loudly and then groaned, "yes, yes, yes, yes."
My orgasm sprung on me quickly. I squealed and pressed down against him, shuddering. He grabbed my hips and started moving me up and down on his cock quickly. I was still coming when he finally exploded into me. I rested my head on his shoulder as we both came down.
Then I heard Susan say behind me, "Well, it looks like they had fun." I lifted myself off of Bud and floated over to sit in Hubby's lap without looking at Susan. He wrapped his strong arms tightly around me and whispered in my ear, "Are you ok?" I nodded yes. I thought I was ok, I guess. I had a flurry of emotions floating around, all dulled by the blanket of physical pleasure I was experiencing.
Bud suggested we go back into the house. I was all for a change of scenery. Susan handed me a towel as I got out of the tub. Hubby grabbed his clothes and mine and we went inside.
There was a fire burning in the fireplace. Hubby spread one of the towels on the floor in front of the fire and we laid down on it. Susan and Bud sat on the couch. We were all still naked, but it was warm in the house so it felt comfortable. Bud and Hubby were talking about cars and other stuff I didn't care about so I was just enjoying the fire. Soon, Susan slid off the couch and was kneeling in front of Bud, sucking on his cock. Bud stopped talking and leaned back.
Hubby leaned over me and kissed me. For a moment, my mind rushed to thinking about how I saw him kissing Susan, but I wasn't there for long. In about a minute he was rolling me over and telling me to get on my hands and knees. Before I was even fully in position, he drove his cock into me hard. He had one hand on my hip pulling me back onto him and the other arm was wrapped around me so he could finger my clit. That's when he started talking dirty to me. "You were a naughty slut tonight weren't you, Kat? You like to be given to other men, don't you? I didn't know I was planning to marry such a whore."
That was the first time any talk of marriage had come up. I started bucking back against him. I screamed as I came and he lifted his hand and brought it down hard on my ass. I was surprised, but not at the fact that he spanked me, but at how it made me come harder just as I thought I was done. At that point, Hubby grabbed my hips and fucked me hard until he came.
After, I curled up in his arms and I felt myself drifting off to sleep, aided by the warmth of the fire. I don't know how long I was asleep, but I woke to Hubby shaking me, telling me it was time to go. I heard him tell either Susan or Bud, "No, I think Kat's done for the night. Maybe another time." I wondered what had been suggested, but I was too tired to ask. Hubby slipped my sundress over my head and walked me to the car. He went back into the house to gather up our shoes and my purse. I opened my eyes long enough to catch him kiss Susan goodbye.
It didn't bother me at all.
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
I Got Lucky!!!
Yes, it's true. After weeks of no sex at home, I finally got lucky with Hubby last night. All the stars aligned - neither of us sick, neither of us too tired, the kid in bed and asleep on time, and both of us in the mood at the same time. Yes, it felt like a miracle.
The interesting thing is that we did exactly the same thing we always do (he fingers me until I come, I suck his cock as long as he wants, he fucks me from behind), but because it has been awhile, it wasn't boring at all. It was kind of hot. Hubby? Hot? Yes.
And while I am very fond of my buddy Spartacus, there's nothing like having a real, live cock inside me and getting a nice hard fucking.
Afterwards, I said, "We should do that more often."
"Definitely," he responded.
Maybe I'll get lucky again soon.
The interesting thing is that we did exactly the same thing we always do (he fingers me until I come, I suck his cock as long as he wants, he fucks me from behind), but because it has been awhile, it wasn't boring at all. It was kind of hot. Hubby? Hot? Yes.
And while I am very fond of my buddy Spartacus, there's nothing like having a real, live cock inside me and getting a nice hard fucking.
Afterwards, I said, "We should do that more often."
"Definitely," he responded.
Maybe I'll get lucky again soon.
Monday, November 11, 2013
Two Months? Really?
To be more accurate, it has been about a month and half since I posted, but that's still a l-o-n-g time. I wonder if anyone is still out there. Anyone?
The only explanation I have is that the blog has not been high on my list of priorities. Family and work come first, and they have been commanding most of my attention over the past few months.
And I also haven't had much to say about prowling. The last extramarital sex I had was in mid-June when I met SNS Guy. Yes, that's five months of fidelity. Five months of nothing but Hubby.
It's not that anything is wrong with Hubby, but I've said it here before - going back to nothing but the same routine sex, same positions, same thing...the same thing we've done for 25 years - is difficult. No, it's more than difficult. It's stifling.
I wonder sometimes if I could be ok with it if I had never known the likes of W, J, JJ, SNS Guy and the others, but I don't think so. I started prowling so I could fill that void in my life. Now, though, I know what I'm missing. So, I put one foot in front of the other and try to just walk through it. Each day and week and month of "just walking through it" kills some of the passion and desire in me.
Have you ever seen the movie Pleasantville? In the film, the black and white world of a small, restrained town slowly turns to color as the residents experience joy and real pleasure of all kinds. We cheer for them as the color bursts forth, freeing them from their old life and way of looking at the world. Prowling was a lot like that for me. Parts of myself that I had never known and other parts of me that I knew about but was too afraid to let loose just burst into color. I felt alive. Fully alive.
The last several months have been the beginning of the reversal of the process. The world is slowly becoming more grey. I'm alive and well and reasonably healthy. All is well with my family. There are challenges to face, but there always are. Hubby is finally happy because I'm compliant with his monitoring requirements and he's confident I'm not prowling. So, he's content and I'm fading a little more each day.
That sounds sad and pathetic, doesn't it?The truth is that it's really not as bad as all that. It is. It's no way to live.
I'll never understand why people who claim to love us so much feel the need to keep us so tied down. Fear is a powerful motivator, I suppose.
A friend of mine encouraged me to share this with you. I was just going to stay quiet forever, or until my world started turning to color again, but he's right. Keeping it to myself helps no one. And nothing changes if I don't change it.
An image of a tiger in a cage (Kat in a cage?) comes to mind. When the tiger is first captured, he pushes against the bars and roars and paces back and forth waiting for a chance to escape. Eventually, though, he just lays down, not even getting up when the cage door opens. He just gives up.
Time to get up and start pacing again.
The only explanation I have is that the blog has not been high on my list of priorities. Family and work come first, and they have been commanding most of my attention over the past few months.
And I also haven't had much to say about prowling. The last extramarital sex I had was in mid-June when I met SNS Guy. Yes, that's five months of fidelity. Five months of nothing but Hubby.
It's not that anything is wrong with Hubby, but I've said it here before - going back to nothing but the same routine sex, same positions, same thing...the same thing we've done for 25 years - is difficult. No, it's more than difficult. It's stifling.
I wonder sometimes if I could be ok with it if I had never known the likes of W, J, JJ, SNS Guy and the others, but I don't think so. I started prowling so I could fill that void in my life. Now, though, I know what I'm missing. So, I put one foot in front of the other and try to just walk through it. Each day and week and month of "just walking through it" kills some of the passion and desire in me.
Have you ever seen the movie Pleasantville? In the film, the black and white world of a small, restrained town slowly turns to color as the residents experience joy and real pleasure of all kinds. We cheer for them as the color bursts forth, freeing them from their old life and way of looking at the world. Prowling was a lot like that for me. Parts of myself that I had never known and other parts of me that I knew about but was too afraid to let loose just burst into color. I felt alive. Fully alive.
The last several months have been the beginning of the reversal of the process. The world is slowly becoming more grey. I'm alive and well and reasonably healthy. All is well with my family. There are challenges to face, but there always are. Hubby is finally happy because I'm compliant with his monitoring requirements and he's confident I'm not prowling. So, he's content and I'm fading a little more each day.
That sounds sad and pathetic, doesn't it?
I'll never understand why people who claim to love us so much feel the need to keep us so tied down. Fear is a powerful motivator, I suppose.
A friend of mine encouraged me to share this with you. I was just going to stay quiet forever, or until my world started turning to color again, but he's right. Keeping it to myself helps no one. And nothing changes if I don't change it.
An image of a tiger in a cage (Kat in a cage?) comes to mind. When the tiger is first captured, he pushes against the bars and roars and paces back and forth waiting for a chance to escape. Eventually, though, he just lays down, not even getting up when the cage door opens. He just gives up.
Time to get up and start pacing again.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
The Coupon
As Hubby and I were going to bed last night, I floated a few signals about having sex, like I always do, and he showed no signs that he was interested. So I finished my bedtime routine, turned off the tv, turned off the light and climbed into bed.
After about 2 minutes, the light came back on and Hubby said, "I think I'd like to collect on that blow job you owe me."
"What blow job?" I replied.
He proceeded to remind me of a day a few weeks ago when he had helped me set up a bunch of tables and chairs for a community event. It was my responsibility, but his help cut the work in half for me, so I thanked him for his help and told him I owed him a blow job. That very night, I gave him a BJ and I thought I had kept my promise.
"I gave you a blow job that night and several times since then. Don't any of those count?" I asked.
"Nope," he said. "A coupon is still good until you use it. I didn't ask for it any of those other times, but I'm asking for it now."
"I see. So you want to redeem your blow job coupon tonight."
"Yes."
"I there anything in it for me," I asked.
"You already got something for it. I helped you move all that stuff. Besides, you love giving head. You'll get something out of it. And why are you resisting? You usually jump at the chance."
He was right. I wasn't actually resisting. I was just clarifying the coupon redemption rules. That's me. I always need to clarify things.
"Ok," I said, "Let's do it then."
He pulled off his boxers and grabbed the peppermint lube. No lube is needed for a BJ, of course, but he knows I love the peppermint and he likes the added enthusiasm I bring to it when he uses the peppermint lube.
I moved into the position and took him into my mouth. For that first stroke, I went down on him very slowly. When I felt his head at the back of my throat, I pressed down so I could take him even deeper. He moaned loudly. I swallowed a few times, until I needed some air, then I pulled back again, just as slowly as went down.
"Fuck," he sighed. "Feel free to do that again."
So I did, several times. When I felt him close to coming, I changed it up, moving a little faster, but not sucking as tightly, squeezing his balls.
I changed my approach thee times, each time when I felt him ready to explode. Finally, the third time, he grabbed my hair and pulled me off of him. Then he said, "I want to fuck you now."
"But this still counts as your blow job coupon redemption, even though you chose not to come in my mouth."
"Shut up about that! Get on your hands on knees."
Being thebitch brat that I am, I said, "Not until you agree that the coupon has been redeemed."
As I said that he was rolling me over, pulling my hips up and positioning between my legs. "Fine, fine," he muttered, and then he drove into me hard. The force pushed me forward, but he roughly pulled me back toward him and tightened his grip on me.
I squealed at the first stroke and put a hand on the wall in front of me to steady myself.
He fucked me forcefully for about 15 seconds, and then he moaned loudly and came.
A moment later he pulled out, reached over to the shelf beside the bed, grabbed a small towel, and handed it to me. I cleaned up a bit there and then headed to the bathroom to finish cleaning up. When I came back to bed, he was asleep.
I looked at him as he slept. We've had a lot going on lately and he's been dealing more than his share of stress, but he looked so calm and peaceful at that moment. I felt a wave of love for him sweep through me.
I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote, "Coupon! This entitles Hubby to a free blow job. Just for being you. I love you. Kat" I slid the coupon under his pillow, curled up next to him, and drifted off to sleep.
After about 2 minutes, the light came back on and Hubby said, "I think I'd like to collect on that blow job you owe me."
"What blow job?" I replied.
He proceeded to remind me of a day a few weeks ago when he had helped me set up a bunch of tables and chairs for a community event. It was my responsibility, but his help cut the work in half for me, so I thanked him for his help and told him I owed him a blow job. That very night, I gave him a BJ and I thought I had kept my promise.
"I gave you a blow job that night and several times since then. Don't any of those count?" I asked.
"Nope," he said. "A coupon is still good until you use it. I didn't ask for it any of those other times, but I'm asking for it now."
"I see. So you want to redeem your blow job coupon tonight."
"Yes."
"I there anything in it for me," I asked.
"You already got something for it. I helped you move all that stuff. Besides, you love giving head. You'll get something out of it. And why are you resisting? You usually jump at the chance."
He was right. I wasn't actually resisting. I was just clarifying the coupon redemption rules. That's me. I always need to clarify things.
"Ok," I said, "Let's do it then."
He pulled off his boxers and grabbed the peppermint lube. No lube is needed for a BJ, of course, but he knows I love the peppermint and he likes the added enthusiasm I bring to it when he uses the peppermint lube.
I moved into the position and took him into my mouth. For that first stroke, I went down on him very slowly. When I felt his head at the back of my throat, I pressed down so I could take him even deeper. He moaned loudly. I swallowed a few times, until I needed some air, then I pulled back again, just as slowly as went down.
"Fuck," he sighed. "Feel free to do that again."
So I did, several times. When I felt him close to coming, I changed it up, moving a little faster, but not sucking as tightly, squeezing his balls.
I changed my approach thee times, each time when I felt him ready to explode. Finally, the third time, he grabbed my hair and pulled me off of him. Then he said, "I want to fuck you now."
"But this still counts as your blow job coupon redemption, even though you chose not to come in my mouth."
"Shut up about that! Get on your hands on knees."
Being the
As I said that he was rolling me over, pulling my hips up and positioning between my legs. "Fine, fine," he muttered, and then he drove into me hard. The force pushed me forward, but he roughly pulled me back toward him and tightened his grip on me.
I squealed at the first stroke and put a hand on the wall in front of me to steady myself.
He fucked me forcefully for about 15 seconds, and then he moaned loudly and came.
A moment later he pulled out, reached over to the shelf beside the bed, grabbed a small towel, and handed it to me. I cleaned up a bit there and then headed to the bathroom to finish cleaning up. When I came back to bed, he was asleep.
I looked at him as he slept. We've had a lot going on lately and he's been dealing more than his share of stress, but he looked so calm and peaceful at that moment. I felt a wave of love for him sweep through me.
I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote, "Coupon! This entitles Hubby to a free blow job. Just for being you. I love you. Kat" I slid the coupon under his pillow, curled up next to him, and drifted off to sleep.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
What Do You *Really* Want?
I have a pet peeve that is growing larger by the day. I get annoyed when people say they want something from a partner, and then follow the statement with a qualification.
For example, a man says to a woman, "I just want to hold you," and then he continues with "but if you want to do more, that's good, too." The first part of the sentence is a total lie. He doesn't just want to hold her. He makes that clear with the second part of the sentence. He said it to try to communicate that he appreciates her for more than sex, but he accomplished the opposite.
Then there's Hubby's famous, "I want you to be happy, but I don't want you to have sex with anyone but me." I looked him in the eye and said, "You don't want me to be happy. You want me to behave the way you want me to behave, and you want me to be happy doing it. That's what you want." He agreed. When you love someone, the first half of one of these sentences hurts because you know it's not true. I'd much rather he say, "I love you, and I want you to find a way to be happy only having sex with me." That makes his wants clear and still communicates that I'm important to him.
Here's a common one. "I want you to feel free to say what you think and feel, but.........." You can fill in the rest of the sentence after the "but" with all sorts of things, but it doesn't really matter. What is actually communicated ranges from "I'd rather you not express your thoughts and feelings about this topic," at best, to "I wish you would shut the fuck up about your feelings. I can't handle them anymore and I don't care," at worst.
There are many more examples I could give, but I think you get the point.
I wish people would just say what they really want. Men think they are softening the blow of what they are saying after the but by including the first half of the sentence. In reality, it heightens the anxiety about what's following and what it may mean.
I know some people may say, "That's just semantics," or "Women over think everything." The first objection is simply not true. The second one is probably true to some degree, but if you want to play with us you need to speak our language. And maybe it's not that women over think everything, but that men under think it all.
The truth is that it's not about thinking as much as it's about communication, how what you said has been received. When the communication is clear, everything is a lot easier.
For example, a man says to a woman, "I just want to hold you," and then he continues with "but if you want to do more, that's good, too." The first part of the sentence is a total lie. He doesn't just want to hold her. He makes that clear with the second part of the sentence. He said it to try to communicate that he appreciates her for more than sex, but he accomplished the opposite.
Then there's Hubby's famous, "I want you to be happy, but I don't want you to have sex with anyone but me." I looked him in the eye and said, "You don't want me to be happy. You want me to behave the way you want me to behave, and you want me to be happy doing it. That's what you want." He agreed. When you love someone, the first half of one of these sentences hurts because you know it's not true. I'd much rather he say, "I love you, and I want you to find a way to be happy only having sex with me." That makes his wants clear and still communicates that I'm important to him.
Here's a common one. "I want you to feel free to say what you think and feel, but.........." You can fill in the rest of the sentence after the "but" with all sorts of things, but it doesn't really matter. What is actually communicated ranges from "I'd rather you not express your thoughts and feelings about this topic," at best, to "I wish you would shut the fuck up about your feelings. I can't handle them anymore and I don't care," at worst.
There are many more examples I could give, but I think you get the point.
I wish people would just say what they really want. Men think they are softening the blow of what they are saying after the but by including the first half of the sentence. In reality, it heightens the anxiety about what's following and what it may mean.
I know some people may say, "That's just semantics," or "Women over think everything." The first objection is simply not true. The second one is probably true to some degree, but if you want to play with us you need to speak our language. And maybe it's not that women over think everything, but that men under think it all.
The truth is that it's not about thinking as much as it's about communication, how what you said has been received. When the communication is clear, everything is a lot easier.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Stealing Anal
I was awakened at about 3:00 a.m. this morning by a hard cock rubbing against my back side. That's not a bad way to wake up. Since we were new together, if Hubby couldn't sleep, he would wander over to my side of the bed and start rubbing against me. Sometimes he'd slide it in me, sometimes just against me, but he'd do his thing until he came and then he'd roll back onto his side of the bed and sleep.
My response depended on many variables. If I didn't wake up, I did nothing, of course, but I'd find the evidence of what happened in the morning and I'd usually ask him how it was. You may wonder how I could sleep through sex stolen in the middle of the night, but that was common for me during what I call, "The Decade of Exhaustion." That's the period of time in my life when I was working more than full time, going to graduate school, and I caring for a very small child at home. If I was fortunate enough to fall into a deep sleep, itself a miracle, there wasn't much that could wake me up.
If I did wake up, I'd do one of two things: 1) Ignore it and try to sleep anyway (because didn't he understand that I just got the baby to finally go to sleep and hour ago and I had to be up in 2 hours!!???), or 2) Join in the fun (Sleep is overrated. Sex is great.).
Last night This morning I woke to the feel of his cock against me. I slipped another step into consciousness and noticed that his cock was lubed because I could feel the slickness as he slid against me. I was really tired and trying to decide if I'd be able to get back to sleep if I just ignored him.
Then I felt a little more pressure and my eyes popped open.
Is he really trying to steal some anal? I asked myself.
Yes, that's exactly what he was trying to do. With each stoke he was pressing against my ass with just a little more pressure, stretching me just a tiny bit, then more, and more.
I didn't move. I wondered how far he'd take this.
A few strokes later, the head of his cock popped in. I bit my lip and held my breath, willing myself not to move or make a sound, in spite of the pain. He froze, like the way a child sneaking into the kitchen at night to steal a cookie freezes when the floor squeaks. He waited. Then his cock involuntarily throbbed, and I.....
.....burst out laughing.
"Did you really think you could steal some anal without waking me up?" I asked him.
He said, "Oh, you're awake," and he grabbed my hip and drove himself all the way inside me. I gasped and grabbed onto the side of the bed to steady myself while he pumped me hard. He came quickly, pulled out, cleaned himself off, and rolled over to go to sleep.
Wide awake by then, I rolled over with him, snuggled up against his back and started talking to him....about last night's baseball game, about my plans for today, about our son's academic progress, about the status of our bills, about my current work project. I could tell he was trying to sleep, but I just kept talking.
Finally he rolled over and said, "Kat! It's the middle of the night. I need to sleep. Why are you doing this?"
I kissed his neck softly and whispered in his ear. "Because stealing anal isn't free."
My response depended on many variables. If I didn't wake up, I did nothing, of course, but I'd find the evidence of what happened in the morning and I'd usually ask him how it was. You may wonder how I could sleep through sex stolen in the middle of the night, but that was common for me during what I call, "The Decade of Exhaustion." That's the period of time in my life when I was working more than full time, going to graduate school, and I caring for a very small child at home. If I was fortunate enough to fall into a deep sleep, itself a miracle, there wasn't much that could wake me up.
If I did wake up, I'd do one of two things: 1) Ignore it and try to sleep anyway (because didn't he understand that I just got the baby to finally go to sleep and hour ago and I had to be up in 2 hours!!???), or 2) Join in the fun (Sleep is overrated. Sex is great.).
Then I felt a little more pressure and my eyes popped open.
Is he really trying to steal some anal? I asked myself.
Yes, that's exactly what he was trying to do. With each stoke he was pressing against my ass with just a little more pressure, stretching me just a tiny bit, then more, and more.
I didn't move. I wondered how far he'd take this.
A few strokes later, the head of his cock popped in. I bit my lip and held my breath, willing myself not to move or make a sound, in spite of the pain. He froze, like the way a child sneaking into the kitchen at night to steal a cookie freezes when the floor squeaks. He waited. Then his cock involuntarily throbbed, and I.....
.....burst out laughing.
"Did you really think you could steal some anal without waking me up?" I asked him.
He said, "Oh, you're awake," and he grabbed my hip and drove himself all the way inside me. I gasped and grabbed onto the side of the bed to steady myself while he pumped me hard. He came quickly, pulled out, cleaned himself off, and rolled over to go to sleep.
Wide awake by then, I rolled over with him, snuggled up against his back and started talking to him....about last night's baseball game, about my plans for today, about our son's academic progress, about the status of our bills, about my current work project. I could tell he was trying to sleep, but I just kept talking.
Finally he rolled over and said, "Kat! It's the middle of the night. I need to sleep. Why are you doing this?"
I kissed his neck softly and whispered in his ear. "Because stealing anal isn't free."
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
How's the Weather Back There?
Hubby and I had been planning sex for a few days, but every night something or someone intervened and ruined our plans. The night before last, it was me. I fell sleep. It happens.
Last night, though, it looked like it was actually going to happen. I was finished with my shower and I pulled out Spartacus and cleaned him up, just in case. Hubby checked on our youngest and locked up the house.
He climbed into bed and we both slid toward the center of the bed until we met. Our legs intertwined as we kissed. I could feel us both relaxing, releasing the stress of the day. In the last couple of years he's gone from being a non-kisser to an o.k. kisser. At least he was willing to try.
He reached over and grabbed some lube, put some on his hand, and slid his hand between my legs. There was absolutely not need for it, but I didn't say anything. Why spoil his fun?
I reached over and grabbed Spartacus. Hubby smiled, kissed me again, and pulled his hand up to my right breast while be started kissing my left. I pushed the button on the vibe and slid it through the slickness to my clit. The intensity made me flinch. He checkled and then reached back for some more lube. I was wondering what he was thinking until I realized it was the peppermint lube he was holding and then dribbling on my nipples. Then he went after my tits hungrily, lapping and sucking on one, then the other, then back again.
I turned up the speed on Spartacus and was just about cum when he said, "Is it raining yet? Do you know?"
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Do you know if it has started raining, yet?" As soon as he finished the question, his mouth went back to work on my nipple.
My hand stopped moving.
"Seriously?" I said. "You really want to talk about the weather right now? NOW?!"
This struck me as such a great example of sex in a long term marriage. Sometimes you're into it. Sometimes you're not. It's not unusual to think about other things but saying them out loud during the act is a bit rude. Unfortunately, that's how married couples can be to each other sometimes. We forget about the other person's feelings because we're so wrapped up in ourselves at times. I was pretty sure, though, that he wouldn't want to talk about the weather when it was "his turn."
He apologized and we got refocused. But now I couldn't cum. Every time I was close I started thinking about the weather. No lie. UGH!
So I faked it. I hate doing that. I rarely do. But I did. I figured I'd take care of myself later, if I needed to and I was pretty much not into it anymore anyway.
Since I was "done," he wanted his so I scooted down and took his cock into my mouth.
What a minute!" I said. "Where's that peppermint lube? I want some!"
He laughed and tossed it to me. I told him that I wanted to watch him put it on. There's something very sexy about watching a man slowly stroke himself. I leaned back and watched, twice telling him, "More...."
When I was ready, I took him in my mouth and started sucking him slowly, moaning with a girl-like glee as I lapped up the peppermint lube. It wasn't long before he tapped my shoulder and told me to turn around.
I got upon my hands and knees and looked back at him. He grabbed my hips and slid his cock inside me. Ohmygod it felt SO good! Usually when we get to this stage, I've already cum once, but this time I was still horny and I wanted it badly, so I started rocking back against him right away.
I thought I was going to cum, but then I heard it. The rain. I could hear the rain on the roof. Then I couldn't stop laughing and I asked him, "Can't you hear the rain?"
"No," he answered. "And stop laughing. Don't you know it's just wrong to laugh when you're in bed with a man." He was still pumping me while he said that, and I was still laughing.
When I could tell he was about 15 seconds from cumming, I looked back at him and said, "Hey! How's the weather back there?" By then I was laughing hysterically and there was no way I could stop.
Hubby groaned loudly, slapped my ass HARD and growled, "Dammit, Kat!" He reached forward and pushed my face into the pillow, which just made me laugh harder. Then he grabbed my hips with both hands and went at me hard and fast until he came. I popped my head up and said, "Don't you wanna talk about the weather?" and he threw another pillow at my head.
"Having a good time?" he asked as he climbed off the bed and grabbed a washcloth to clean up with. "Yes, I am," I said between bursts of laughter. "This is better than sex!"
He just shook his head and walked into the bathroom. I saw his shoulders shaking as he laughed while walked away.
By the time he came back to bed, I was done laughing, but I was still smiling. He crawled into bed, kissed me and we snuggled up together.
He whispered into my ear, "So, is it supposed to rain tomorrow?" We both started howling, laughing as quietly as we could, pressing our mouths against each other to smother the sound so it wouldn't wake up the boys.
We fell asleep like that, tightly held in each other's arms with smiles on our faces.
Last night, though, it looked like it was actually going to happen. I was finished with my shower and I pulled out Spartacus and cleaned him up, just in case. Hubby checked on our youngest and locked up the house.
He climbed into bed and we both slid toward the center of the bed until we met. Our legs intertwined as we kissed. I could feel us both relaxing, releasing the stress of the day. In the last couple of years he's gone from being a non-kisser to an o.k. kisser. At least he was willing to try.
He reached over and grabbed some lube, put some on his hand, and slid his hand between my legs. There was absolutely not need for it, but I didn't say anything. Why spoil his fun?
I reached over and grabbed Spartacus. Hubby smiled, kissed me again, and pulled his hand up to my right breast while be started kissing my left. I pushed the button on the vibe and slid it through the slickness to my clit. The intensity made me flinch. He checkled and then reached back for some more lube. I was wondering what he was thinking until I realized it was the peppermint lube he was holding and then dribbling on my nipples. Then he went after my tits hungrily, lapping and sucking on one, then the other, then back again.
I turned up the speed on Spartacus and was just about cum when he said, "Is it raining yet? Do you know?"
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Do you know if it has started raining, yet?" As soon as he finished the question, his mouth went back to work on my nipple.
My hand stopped moving.
"Seriously?" I said. "You really want to talk about the weather right now? NOW?!"
This struck me as such a great example of sex in a long term marriage. Sometimes you're into it. Sometimes you're not. It's not unusual to think about other things but saying them out loud during the act is a bit rude. Unfortunately, that's how married couples can be to each other sometimes. We forget about the other person's feelings because we're so wrapped up in ourselves at times. I was pretty sure, though, that he wouldn't want to talk about the weather when it was "his turn."
He apologized and we got refocused. But now I couldn't cum. Every time I was close I started thinking about the weather. No lie. UGH!
So I faked it. I hate doing that. I rarely do. But I did. I figured I'd take care of myself later, if I needed to and I was pretty much not into it anymore anyway.
Since I was "done," he wanted his so I scooted down and took his cock into my mouth.
What a minute!" I said. "Where's that peppermint lube? I want some!"
He laughed and tossed it to me. I told him that I wanted to watch him put it on. There's something very sexy about watching a man slowly stroke himself. I leaned back and watched, twice telling him, "More...."
When I was ready, I took him in my mouth and started sucking him slowly, moaning with a girl-like glee as I lapped up the peppermint lube. It wasn't long before he tapped my shoulder and told me to turn around.
I got upon my hands and knees and looked back at him. He grabbed my hips and slid his cock inside me. Ohmygod it felt SO good! Usually when we get to this stage, I've already cum once, but this time I was still horny and I wanted it badly, so I started rocking back against him right away.
I thought I was going to cum, but then I heard it. The rain. I could hear the rain on the roof. Then I couldn't stop laughing and I asked him, "Can't you hear the rain?"
"No," he answered. "And stop laughing. Don't you know it's just wrong to laugh when you're in bed with a man." He was still pumping me while he said that, and I was still laughing.
When I could tell he was about 15 seconds from cumming, I looked back at him and said, "Hey! How's the weather back there?" By then I was laughing hysterically and there was no way I could stop.
Hubby groaned loudly, slapped my ass HARD and growled, "Dammit, Kat!" He reached forward and pushed my face into the pillow, which just made me laugh harder. Then he grabbed my hips with both hands and went at me hard and fast until he came. I popped my head up and said, "Don't you wanna talk about the weather?" and he threw another pillow at my head.
"Having a good time?" he asked as he climbed off the bed and grabbed a washcloth to clean up with. "Yes, I am," I said between bursts of laughter. "This is better than sex!"
He just shook his head and walked into the bathroom. I saw his shoulders shaking as he laughed while walked away.
By the time he came back to bed, I was done laughing, but I was still smiling. He crawled into bed, kissed me and we snuggled up together.
He whispered into my ear, "So, is it supposed to rain tomorrow?" We both started howling, laughing as quietly as we could, pressing our mouths against each other to smother the sound so it wouldn't wake up the boys.
We fell asleep like that, tightly held in each other's arms with smiles on our faces.
Monday, January 14, 2013
The Black Lace Chemise
I'm sick. And it's not the "Gee, I feel a little tired...I wonder if I'm coming down with something" kind of sick. Just in case you didn't know, working moms are tired all the time. If that were a sign of illness we'd all have to get to the Mayo Clinic right away.
No, this the coughing-up-crud, green-stuff-bursting from the nose, head-about-to-explode, cranky-as-a-cornered-raccoon kind of sick.
Not sexy.
Not sexy at all.
It sucks.
Hey, why is it that words associated with bad things also can be associated with blow jobs? That sucks. That blows. Hmm.
Did I mention that my head is fuzzy and I can't focus for very long?
Anyway.....
I was lounging in bed yesterday, hoping that being horizontal would magically lift the virus from my body (it didn't work) and reading a lingerie catalog. For the ladies in the room, let me share with you that shopping for lingerie probably should not be done when you're feeling like crap, laying in bed with your husband, wearing a dirty t-shirt, the old panties with the hole in the waistband that you never wear outside of the house, and the mismatched wool socks you stole from your husband's dresser. That's not when you're feeling the most sexy.
As I flipped through the catalog, I found a nice little all lace chemise. It covered everything but was completely see through. Very nice. I showed it to Hubby.
Kat: What do you think about that?
Hubby: What for?
Kat: For me!
Hubby: For you? Why?
Kat: So I can look sexy and lure you into my bed for some wild sex.
I sneezed. Snot flew. Hubby handed me the box of Kleenex.
Hubby: Kat, there is nothing you could wear, say, or do right now that would make me want to have sex with you.
Kat: (Wiping my nose) Oh.
Hubby: (Looking closer at the catalog) That looks like that black lace catsuit that girl who came and danced for us at the house wore. Remember that?
Kat: Of course, I remember. While you were rubbing your dick against her, I was talking to her about going back to school. Do you remember that?
Hubby: No. Why would I remember that?
Kat: Well, do you remember the pictures we took from that night? The ones of you fucking her?
Hubby: What?! We took pictures??!!! Are you sure?
Kat: (sneezes again) Of course I'm sure. I took them. Polaroid. You carried them around in your briefcase to show all your friends for about five years.
Hubby: Really? Why don't I remember that?
Kat: Seriously? I'm supposed to answer that question? If you don't remember the pictures, then you probably don't remember that she was sick that night, sneezing, blowing her nose. She had a really bad cold.
Hubby: No, I don't remember that, but why would it matter? A cold wouldn't affect me wanting to fuck her.
Kat: (looking up at Hubby in disbelief) Right.
Hubby: But man, Kat, do you remember how hot her pussy was peeking through the crotch of that catsuit when she bent over? Oh my god that was amazing.
Kat: Yes, she was very hot. I liked her.
Hubby: And I almost came when you started sucking her tits. Remember that????
Kat: (more sneezing, more snot, more tissue) Yes, I remember.
Pause
Hubby: Kat?
Kat: Yes?
Hubby: I know you don't feel well, but would it be ok if I just fucked you really quick? You don't have to do anything, just roll over - facing away from me.
I didn't say anything. I just pulled off my holey panties and rolled over and lifted my behind up for him. I sneezed into a pillow. Yuck. Then I realized it was his pillow. Sweet.
He was right. It was quick, but it still felt pretty good. Any other time I could have fingered myself while he was in there and cum just as quickly, but I wasn't feeling sexy at all.
I have absolutely no problem being a fuck receptacle when he's in the mood and I'm not. In fact, I appreciate his understanding and the fact that he didn't want me to try to pretend to be into it. I don't like faking it. I really don't.
Afterwards, I used the holey panties to clean up.
Hubby: You really should get rid of those.
Kat: But they make such a good handkerchief.
I blew my nose into them and threw them into the trash. We both laughed.
He went back to shopping online. I went back to the catalog.
Kat: So you never told me what you think of this chemise.
Hubby: (smiling a wicked smile and pinching my tit) Get it.
No, this the coughing-up-crud, green-stuff-bursting from the nose, head-about-to-explode, cranky-as-a-cornered-raccoon kind of sick.
Not sexy.
Not sexy at all.
It sucks.
Hey, why is it that words associated with bad things also can be associated with blow jobs? That sucks. That blows. Hmm.
Did I mention that my head is fuzzy and I can't focus for very long?
Anyway.....
I was lounging in bed yesterday, hoping that being horizontal would magically lift the virus from my body (it didn't work) and reading a lingerie catalog. For the ladies in the room, let me share with you that shopping for lingerie probably should not be done when you're feeling like crap, laying in bed with your husband, wearing a dirty t-shirt, the old panties with the hole in the waistband that you never wear outside of the house, and the mismatched wool socks you stole from your husband's dresser. That's not when you're feeling the most sexy.
As I flipped through the catalog, I found a nice little all lace chemise. It covered everything but was completely see through. Very nice. I showed it to Hubby.
Kat: What do you think about that?
Hubby: What for?
Kat: For me!
Hubby: For you? Why?
Kat: So I can look sexy and lure you into my bed for some wild sex.
I sneezed. Snot flew. Hubby handed me the box of Kleenex.
Hubby: Kat, there is nothing you could wear, say, or do right now that would make me want to have sex with you.
Kat: (Wiping my nose) Oh.
Hubby: (Looking closer at the catalog) That looks like that black lace catsuit that girl who came and danced for us at the house wore. Remember that?
Kat: Of course, I remember. While you were rubbing your dick against her, I was talking to her about going back to school. Do you remember that?
Hubby: No. Why would I remember that?
Kat: Well, do you remember the pictures we took from that night? The ones of you fucking her?
Hubby: What?! We took pictures??!!! Are you sure?
Kat: (sneezes again) Of course I'm sure. I took them. Polaroid. You carried them around in your briefcase to show all your friends for about five years.
Hubby: Really? Why don't I remember that?
Kat: Seriously? I'm supposed to answer that question? If you don't remember the pictures, then you probably don't remember that she was sick that night, sneezing, blowing her nose. She had a really bad cold.
Hubby: No, I don't remember that, but why would it matter? A cold wouldn't affect me wanting to fuck her.
Kat: (looking up at Hubby in disbelief) Right.
Hubby: But man, Kat, do you remember how hot her pussy was peeking through the crotch of that catsuit when she bent over? Oh my god that was amazing.
Kat: Yes, she was very hot. I liked her.
Hubby: And I almost came when you started sucking her tits. Remember that????
Kat: (more sneezing, more snot, more tissue) Yes, I remember.
Pause
Hubby: Kat?
Kat: Yes?
Hubby: I know you don't feel well, but would it be ok if I just fucked you really quick? You don't have to do anything, just roll over - facing away from me.
I didn't say anything. I just pulled off my holey panties and rolled over and lifted my behind up for him. I sneezed into a pillow. Yuck. Then I realized it was his pillow. Sweet.
He was right. It was quick, but it still felt pretty good. Any other time I could have fingered myself while he was in there and cum just as quickly, but I wasn't feeling sexy at all.
I have absolutely no problem being a fuck receptacle when he's in the mood and I'm not. In fact, I appreciate his understanding and the fact that he didn't want me to try to pretend to be into it. I don't like faking it. I really don't.
Afterwards, I used the holey panties to clean up.
Hubby: You really should get rid of those.
Kat: But they make such a good handkerchief.
I blew my nose into them and threw them into the trash. We both laughed.
He went back to shopping online. I went back to the catalog.
Kat: So you never told me what you think of this chemise.
Hubby: (smiling a wicked smile and pinching my tit) Get it.
Friday, December 21, 2012
Hubby's Least Favorite Restaurant
I was having dinner with Hubby last night in the same restaurant where I asked him for an open marriage about a year and a half ago and he shut me down. To be more accurate, that was where I first asked him for an open marriage. I've asked several times since then, but none of those had the same impact as the first time. It had such a profound impact on him that he refuses to sit in the same booth where we sat that day. I think that's a little silly, but I'll sit wherever he wants.
Anyway, we were there last night and the topic of three-time Olympian Suzy Favor Hamilton came up. As you may have heard, she has been working as a high priced call girl, oops...I mean, escort....in Vegas (and around the country) for the last year. She was caught and exposed, and the reason she gave for her activities was that it helped her deal with depression, the stress in her life, and some difficulties in her marriage.
Here's how part of my conversation went with Hubby:
Kat: Really? Sex with strangers as a treatment for depression and stress? So, why did I go with therapy? Sex would have been more fun.
Hubby: Don't even think about it. You're not an Olympian.
Kat (ignoring Hubby's comment): And therapy costs money. What she did made money.
Hubby: Spend that same amount of time on the business and you'll make even more. Then you can pay for the therapy I'm going to need as a result of the stress of this conversation.
Kat: But then we wouldn't have to have an "open marriage" because it would be my job. I think it's a win-win.
Hubby (getting frustrated): We don't have an open marriage and we're not going to have an open marriage!
Kat: I know. I was just thinking that I was fucking around for free and she was getting paid. Just seems like a more efficient approach........
Hubby: What is it with this restaurant? I hate this place.
Anyway, we were there last night and the topic of three-time Olympian Suzy Favor Hamilton came up. As you may have heard, she has been working as a high priced call girl, oops...I mean, escort....in Vegas (and around the country) for the last year. She was caught and exposed, and the reason she gave for her activities was that it helped her deal with depression, the stress in her life, and some difficulties in her marriage.
Here's how part of my conversation went with Hubby:
Kat: Really? Sex with strangers as a treatment for depression and stress? So, why did I go with therapy? Sex would have been more fun.
Hubby: Don't even think about it. You're not an Olympian.
Kat (ignoring Hubby's comment): And therapy costs money. What she did made money.
Hubby: Spend that same amount of time on the business and you'll make even more. Then you can pay for the therapy I'm going to need as a result of the stress of this conversation.
Kat: But then we wouldn't have to have an "open marriage" because it would be my job. I think it's a win-win.
Hubby (getting frustrated): We don't have an open marriage and we're not going to have an open marriage!
Kat: I know. I was just thinking that I was fucking around for free and she was getting paid. Just seems like a more efficient approach........
Hubby: What is it with this restaurant? I hate this place.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Hair Pulling Sex God
I wasn't really in the mood for sex, but I wanted it anyway. Wait, that's not entirely true. I'm just about always in the mood for sex, but last night I wasn't feeling an urgent need. I was just feeling that gnawing undercurrent of craving that I live with all the time. I was really into the idea a few hours earlier before Hubby started telling me who my friends should be.
Seriously, we were having a discussion about Daunt and Hubby started talking about who I should, and shouldn't, have as friends. He even named some women at church that he thought I should befriend. I found it interesting that he left out all the women he screwed over the last five years, and I thought I'd really have something in common with them.
But I kept my mouth shut and let him talk. However, on the inside I was saying, "Gee, Honey, in this century women are allowed to pick their own friends. And, by the way, we get to vote now, too!" I knew I was getting catty so I just let conversation die.
At bedtime, it was clear that Hubby was not going to initiate anything, so it was up to me to make it happen or go to bed frustrated - again.
I took my shower and went to bed, pulling the covers all the way back so I was laying naked on top of the sheet. Then I reached into the drawer next to the bed and pulled out Sparticus and put it on the bed next to me. I waited.
Then I texted him and told him to come to bed. And I waited.
Eventually, he wandered into the room and a smile swept across his face as he saw me.
"It's about time," I said. "What does a girl have to do to get a good fucking around here?"
He said, "Exactly what you're doing. But give me a minute. I want put the trash cans out first."
Wow. I guess the trash couldn't wait for 30 minutes. To be fair, I know that Hubby is totally oblivious to the effect that it has on me when he says things like that. If I thought it was on purpose, that would be one thing, but this is just who he is. It really makes me wonder how he convinced me to marry him way back when I would not have ignored comments like that.
Anyway, he came back in about 5 minutes, and climbed into bed. I asked him if he would mind at least washing his hands since he had just handled the trash. He grudgingly agreed.
When he came back to bed, I was ready. No, I was more than ready. I had spend the majority of the time I was waiting thinking about JJ, and what he would be doing in this situation. I am 100% sure that he would say that the trash could wait.
Hubby grabbed the lube from the nightstand. I told him, "You're not going to need that."
"Oh?" he replied as he reached down between my legs and slid a finger inside me.
"Oh! I guess we don't need this," he said, tossing the bottle of lube aside. "You should have told me you were this ready. I would have put off taking out the trash."
Oh no, I thought. Don't even go there. Did you really just say that???
I decided to ignore the comment. I grabbed Sparticus and put it in his hand. We were back on track quickly. He slid the large shaft inside me slowly and turned it on. I gasped. It felt better than I was expecting. Then he turned on the little vibrator and pressed it against my clit. An intense jolt of pleasure shot up my back and I squealed a bit. Hubby chuckled and turned the vibrator down just a bit. Ah.....perfect.
I closed my eyes and remembered the last time I was alone with JJ. We stood kissing for a long time as he slowly undressed me. I sat on the edge of the bed and took off his shorts and sucked on his cock for awhile. His cock was beautiful. Hard, glistening, dripping with precum, delicious. He leaned me back on the bed, pulled my legs up and entered me. I felt that same amazing sensation I felt every time he entered me. I looked up at him and watched his face as he fucked me. I remember thinking that I'd freeze that moment in time if I could. I'd have to settle for burning it forever into my brain. It didn't take me long to come. He came soon after and seeing the look on his face as he came gave me another kind of pleasure.
I held that thought as I took the little vibrator from Hubby's hand and started holding it myself. He kept working the big shaft of Spartacus and he leaned over and began sucking on one of my nipples. Three seconds later I was coming hard - moaning, shaking.
A minute or so later, he pulled Spartacus out of me and tossed it aside. He got up on his knees on the bed with his cock erect and jerking a little. I knew what that meant. I rolled over onto my side and up onto my elbow and took him into my mouth. I started sucking him slowly, but very deeply, taking him in as far as I could. Every third stroke I'd hold for a beat or two with the head of his cock in my throat. He moaned. That was exactly the response I was going for.
He got harder and I could tell that he was going to come soon. Just as I was getting ready to make that happen, he tapped my shoulder twice. That's our sign for "Stop now. I want to do something else." I have no idea how that signal came to be for us, but it's very clear. The shoulder tap means "stop immediately," so I did, and I looked up at him.
He said, "I want you from behind." I smiled. My favorite.
As I positioned myself, my mind flashed again to the last time I was with JJ. In that room, there was a mirrored wall at the head of the bed, so I could watch him move behind me and I could watch him fuck me as much as I wanted. I pushed back the emotion I was feeling about him right then. I missed him.
But there was no mirror here. That's not the only thing that was different. Hubby is not as thick as JJ, but he's a shade longer, so the cock inside me felt completely different - amazingly good, but different. Also, JJ pounds me hard and fast, which I absolutely love; Hubby is slow and deliberate, usually making me do most of the work. So there was no fantasizing about JJ at this point. That was clearly not him behind me.
I wanted to come again. I tried to. I moved a little faster. Hubby slowed me down. I tilted my hips so I could feel his cock in just the right spot. Hubby grabbed my hips and re-positioned me. Bummer.
He came quickly. I couldn't see him, but I could hear the satisfaction in his voice as he moaned loudly while he released into me.
He held there for a while. I remained still, giving him all the time he wanted to feel it. Then he reached forward and gently tugged on the hair on the back of my head, and we both burst into laughter.
When Hubby first learned about my cheating, we had many long talks about what was missing in our sex life. One of the things I shared with him was that I loved having my hair pulled. We talked about it at length. He tried a few times, but it was a feeble attempt. In fact, it made me laugh more than it turned me on. Sometimes he'd pull it after I had already come. It was clear he wasn't into it and he just wouldn't pull hard enough. The problem is that he can't bring himself to hurt me physically - even if I want him to. So, what started out as him trying to do something different sexually, something that I enjoy, turned into a joke between us.
He pulled out of me slowly. I rolled over. He leaned over and kissed me and said, "I love you, more than you'll ever know."
I replied, "I love you, too, you hair pulling sex god."
His face lit up and he wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead. I snuggled against him, really glad that he had taken the trash out earlier so he didn't have to get up now. This was a moment to burn into my brain and remember forever.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Doubt
One of the things I've known for a long time is that I had no doubt at all if this prowling lifestyle was right for me. Some things were missing from my marriage - mostly sexual, but not all sexual - that I could get outside the marriage. When I had those things, I was happier with my life in general, including with my marriage.
The things that were missing were not an indication of a shortcoming on my husband's part at all. They are just the natural results of many long-term marriages - lack of passion in the bedroom, boring sex, a sense of suffocation from being fused to another human being for so long. There was no "my life" anymore; it was "our life." I didn't have friends; we had our friends.
Our names start with the same letter so half the time (literally, about half the time) people call me by his name. But most people who know us both (which is almost everyone we know) don't even both to call me by an individual name. It's like we are one unit and our name is a run together version of what used to be our individual names (Mr.-Kat-and-Kat) or just the initials, "Are K&K going to be there?"
When I started prowling again a couple years ago, after an 8-year hiatus from the lifestyle in an attempt to "be good," what I really wanted was some breathing room. I loved my husband (I still do). The lack of passion between us left me wondering what kind of love I had for him, but there was never any doubt that I wanted him in my life.
But after that 8 years, the lack of passionate sex and the K&K straight-jacket were killing me. What happened is exactly what had happened before. I went outside the marriage, found what I needed, felt great, and all was well. For a while. Then I found out about hubby's cheating. And he found out about mine. My reaction to his was to ask for an open marriage. His declined my request. Apparently, he was ok with sex outside of the marriage as long as it was for him and not for me.
His reaction to learning about me was to have a breakdown. Knowing I cheated (and he has no idea of the extent of it) pulled the rug out from under him and rocked his emotional world. It has taken many months for him to regain his footing. In the meantime, I've been on a very tight leash, which of course has made me feel more confined. What he was doing as a way to cope with his feelings and hold onto me was exactly the thing that made me want to get away from him and get some space.
And while I'm getting some space, why not have some fantastic and passionate sex at the same time?
There's a reason I'm recapping this story. Stay with me.....
Things are changing. He's trying to give me some room to have at least a little bit of a life of my own. He's trying very hard to make sex more satisfying for me. Is it all that I want? No. Not even close. But it's better. When I look into his eyes now, I don't see him looking through me. I see him looking at me. Unlike in the past, when he's with me, he's present. And lately, I have been, too.
This man has been with me for 25 years, through good times and bad. And I mean really bad. We've hurt each other. We've helped each other.We've got a quarter century's worth of shared history between us. He's willing to let me call the shots. I can have whatever freedom I want. All he wants is for me to stop having sex with other men. That's it. That one thing.
He won't leave me if I keep having sex outside the marriage, but it makes him terribly unhappy and anxious. It makes him terrified that I'll meet someone else I like better and leave him. So, if I can just do that one thing for him, he'll work on the rest for me. Specifically, he'll take off the leash he's had on me for 25 years.
What does all this mean?
It means that, for the first time in the 20 years that I've been prowling, I have some doubt. My certainty that this prowling lifestyle is right for me is wavering. For the first time, I'm considering if I can give my husband the one thing he wants.
Can I look at fidelity as a gift rather than as a noose?
Can I be happy with a life of mediocre sex?
Can I stop looking at men as potential sex partners?
If he gives me what I want most (some freedom and independence), will I be able to give him what he wants (fidelity)?
I don't have any answers. I only have doubt.
The things that were missing were not an indication of a shortcoming on my husband's part at all. They are just the natural results of many long-term marriages - lack of passion in the bedroom, boring sex, a sense of suffocation from being fused to another human being for so long. There was no "my life" anymore; it was "our life." I didn't have friends; we had our friends.
Our names start with the same letter so half the time (literally, about half the time) people call me by his name. But most people who know us both (which is almost everyone we know) don't even both to call me by an individual name. It's like we are one unit and our name is a run together version of what used to be our individual names (Mr.-Kat-and-Kat) or just the initials, "Are K&K going to be there?"
When I started prowling again a couple years ago, after an 8-year hiatus from the lifestyle in an attempt to "be good," what I really wanted was some breathing room. I loved my husband (I still do). The lack of passion between us left me wondering what kind of love I had for him, but there was never any doubt that I wanted him in my life.
But after that 8 years, the lack of passionate sex and the K&K straight-jacket were killing me. What happened is exactly what had happened before. I went outside the marriage, found what I needed, felt great, and all was well. For a while. Then I found out about hubby's cheating. And he found out about mine. My reaction to his was to ask for an open marriage. His declined my request. Apparently, he was ok with sex outside of the marriage as long as it was for him and not for me.
His reaction to learning about me was to have a breakdown. Knowing I cheated (and he has no idea of the extent of it) pulled the rug out from under him and rocked his emotional world. It has taken many months for him to regain his footing. In the meantime, I've been on a very tight leash, which of course has made me feel more confined. What he was doing as a way to cope with his feelings and hold onto me was exactly the thing that made me want to get away from him and get some space.
And while I'm getting some space, why not have some fantastic and passionate sex at the same time?
There's a reason I'm recapping this story. Stay with me.....
Things are changing. He's trying to give me some room to have at least a little bit of a life of my own. He's trying very hard to make sex more satisfying for me. Is it all that I want? No. Not even close. But it's better. When I look into his eyes now, I don't see him looking through me. I see him looking at me. Unlike in the past, when he's with me, he's present. And lately, I have been, too.
This man has been with me for 25 years, through good times and bad. And I mean really bad. We've hurt each other. We've helped each other.We've got a quarter century's worth of shared history between us. He's willing to let me call the shots. I can have whatever freedom I want. All he wants is for me to stop having sex with other men. That's it. That one thing.
He won't leave me if I keep having sex outside the marriage, but it makes him terribly unhappy and anxious. It makes him terrified that I'll meet someone else I like better and leave him. So, if I can just do that one thing for him, he'll work on the rest for me. Specifically, he'll take off the leash he's had on me for 25 years.
What does all this mean?
It means that, for the first time in the 20 years that I've been prowling, I have some doubt. My certainty that this prowling lifestyle is right for me is wavering. For the first time, I'm considering if I can give my husband the one thing he wants.
Can I look at fidelity as a gift rather than as a noose?
Can I be happy with a life of mediocre sex?
Can I stop looking at men as potential sex partners?
If he gives me what I want most (some freedom and independence), will I be able to give him what he wants (fidelity)?
I don't have any answers. I only have doubt.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Vacation Sex
I'm on vacation for a couple of weeks. That's why you haven't heard from me lately, but you're never far from my thoughts, Prowlers.
Unfortunately, the reason you haven't heard from me so far is the same reason why I was pretty sure there would be no vacation sex for me. I'm never alone.
Never. Alone.
All day I'm trapped in a mini-van with my husband and offspring, with the exception of occasional sightseeing stops, and all night I'm trapped in a hotel room with my husband and offspring. I don't do well without alone time, but living in close quarters with a group of males is particularly trying at times. But that's a story for another day.
Anyway, tonight we got back from dinner and the boys decided to go down to the pool. The minute the door closed behind them I ran to the door, pushed the security latch closed so it couldn't be opened even with a key, and started peeling off my clothes as I headed toward the bed, shouting at Hubby, "Come on! We have at least 30 minutes. Let's go!"
I flopped on the bed naked and looked at him expectantly. He said, "I really want to get these bags organized so the van will be easier to pack tomorrow. Maybe later."
I sat straight up. "Are you fucking kidding me? There is no 'later' and you know it. This is the first time we have been alone in five days and who knows if we'll have another chance like this."
"You'll survive a couple of weeks without sex. You've done it before."
"Fine," I said. "I'll just play with Spartacus." And I reached into my suitcase and pulled out my favorite toy.
Not even looking up from his task, he shook his head, saying, "I can't believe you brought that thing."
I didn't answer. I just spread out on the bed and turned on Spartacus. I closed my eyes and disappeared into my fantasy world.
"Dammit, Kat!" I could hear that Hubby was a bit annoyed.
"Don't interrupt," I moaned.
The next thing I knew, Hubby was on the bed next to me, kissing my neck, and attempting to pull Spartacus out of me. I could feel his hardness pressing against my leg.
"No, no, no," I said. "You had your chance. You gave up your turn to Spartacus. Now you have to wait."
I smiled and went back to what I was doing.
Hubby groaned, "Tell him to hurry up. I want my turn," just before he took one of my nipples into his mouth.
After that, it took no time at all for me to cum hard. Just to yank his chain a little, I decided to say, "Oh, Spartacus!" as I came.
He growled and slowly pulled Spartacus out of me and rolled me over. I lifted myself up onto my knees and elbows just in time for him to slide deep inside me. After a few strokes he pulled out and said, "I don't want anybody's sloppy seconds. You gave your pussy to Spartacus, so I'll take your ass." Before he was half way through with that statement, his cock was already in me. I squealed (it really did hurt) and instinctively tried to pull away, but he grabbed my hips and pulled me back against him forcefully.
"Oh no. You started this. You're gonna finish it." Then he pounded me hard, forcing me to push against the headboard just to keep from being slammed into it.
He groaned loudly as he came. When he pulled out, I whined a little wishing it could have lasted longer.
He got up, cleaned up a bit and went back to his packing task as if nothing had happened. I jumped into the shower, pleased that I managed to get a little vacation sex after all. Then I took the security lock off the door and started writing this. Five minutes ago, the door burst open and the room was full of boys again.
My youngest jumped onto the bed and said, "Mommy, you should have come swimming with us! We had so much more fun than you did!"
I tried to keep my smile from betraying what I was thinking.
"I'm sure you're right, Sweetie," I replied. "Tell me all about the fun you had."
While he was talking, I noticed Hubby was smiling.
He said, under his breath, "You guys didn't have more fun than I did."
My oldest heard his little comment and said,"Dad! That is so gross! We can't leave you two alone for even a few minutes."
Well, there goes my chance for any more vacation sex.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
The Best Birthday Gift Ever
I went out to lunch today with Cara, Beth, and Hubby. It was sort of a birthday lunch and Cara told me she was bringing a gift. That was enough to get me excited; I love birthday gifts! But this was especially exciting because I know that Cara makes her gifts by hand, so whatever it is, it's always special and one of a kind.
Hubby and I were there first, but Cara and Beth arrived soon thereafter. After the greetings and pleasantries, Cara handed me a beautifully gift wrapped box which I promptly unwrapped by ripping the paper off it very much in the way I like to rip the clothes off a man just before we...you know.
When I opened the box, I saw a set of kitchen towels that Cara had personalized for me by sewing on some special appliques. They were very cute Dick & Jane towels. I loved them!
My first thought was, "How cute! And how perfect!" I was thinking of the fact that I was a teacher at one point in my life and that I am actually old enough to have learned to read using the Dick and Jane books.
Then I looked closer and thought, "Oh my gosh! These really are perfect for me!"
But that thought was followed immediately by, "OH MY GOD!!! Hubby is here! Why did she give me these in front of Hubby???"
Take a closer look:
The first one says, "Come and play, See Dick."
The second one says, "Come, Sally, come! Oh, Dick."
The final one says, "See Dick and Jane go up and down."
So there I was holding these towels, almost speechless, wanting to comment about the obvious message communicated by the text but knowing that this could be really weird. I chose to go with my default response, which is to act like nothing is out of the ordinary.
I thanked her profusely. I talked about how much I loved them (which is 100% true). I showed them - very briefly - to Hubby, and then I put them back in the box while the conversation continued to how Hubby and I had both learned to read with the Dick and Jane books and how old that makes us. Then we moved on to talking about something else.
Hubby gave no indication that anything was unusual about the gift, but now I have another dilemma. If I take them home to use them, he will clearly figure it out when he looks at them closely. If I don't take them home, he'll definitely think something is up. For now, they are resting quietly on my desk waiting for me to figure out what to do with them.
But I really love them! They are perfect for me....and so fun! Cara definitely knows me well.
I really do love Dick.
Hubby and I were there first, but Cara and Beth arrived soon thereafter. After the greetings and pleasantries, Cara handed me a beautifully gift wrapped box which I promptly unwrapped by ripping the paper off it very much in the way I like to rip the clothes off a man just before we...you know.
My first thought was, "How cute! And how perfect!" I was thinking of the fact that I was a teacher at one point in my life and that I am actually old enough to have learned to read using the Dick and Jane books.
Then I looked closer and thought, "Oh my gosh! These really are perfect for me!"
But that thought was followed immediately by, "OH MY GOD!!! Hubby is here! Why did she give me these in front of Hubby???"
Take a closer look:
The first one says, "Come and play, See Dick."
The second one says, "Come, Sally, come! Oh, Dick."
The final one says, "See Dick and Jane go up and down."
So there I was holding these towels, almost speechless, wanting to comment about the obvious message communicated by the text but knowing that this could be really weird. I chose to go with my default response, which is to act like nothing is out of the ordinary.
I thanked her profusely. I talked about how much I loved them (which is 100% true). I showed them - very briefly - to Hubby, and then I put them back in the box while the conversation continued to how Hubby and I had both learned to read with the Dick and Jane books and how old that makes us. Then we moved on to talking about something else.
Hubby gave no indication that anything was unusual about the gift, but now I have another dilemma. If I take them home to use them, he will clearly figure it out when he looks at them closely. If I don't take them home, he'll definitely think something is up. For now, they are resting quietly on my desk waiting for me to figure out what to do with them.
But I really love them! They are perfect for me....and so fun! Cara definitely knows me well.
I really do love Dick.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Work, Sex, Communication....and Marital Discord
I know I haven't been posting regularly, Prowlers. I'm sorry about that. Trust me, I really want to post often, but sometimes life just gets in the way. This time, it has been work that has interfered. As many of you know, I own a small business and the buck stops with me, as they say. I've been working long hours and not having time to do any of the things I really enjoy.
And that includes sex.
Marital sex is complicated enough under the best of circumstances, but when you throw in crazy work hours and work-induced exhaustion, it's even worse.
For example, I worked a 15 hour day yesterday (yes, on Sunday), came home, fixed dinner for the family (late), cleaned up, got the little one bathed and to bed, showered myself and went to bed. Don't even get me started on why I had to make dinner when Hubby and my adult son were home all day lounging around; that's really another conversation entirely, but it is related to the exhaustion factor.
In spite of all of that, I was up for sex. Heck, I'm always up for sex. In fact, I primed the pump, so to speak, in the shower and it wouldn't have taken much to make me very, very happy, relaxed, and ready for my six hours of sleep.
I got in bed, and there was Hubby. Sweet Hubby. Hubby had a dilemma. He knew I've been working like crazy and he doesn't want to pressure me into sex when he knows I'm tired. Of course, he had no problem with that over the dinner issue, but I digress.....again.
He also knows that, generally speaking, I want sex all the time. He's not particularly interested in sex.
He's confused. He has a dilemma. What to do? What to do?
So, he says, "I can do you if you want. I don't want it, but I can do you if you want."
Wow. What a way to get a gal's pussy quivering....NOT.
I would have enjoyed sex, even as tired as I was, but I was too tired to deal with "duty sex" and the emotion that it stirs up in me. And I was way too tried to have the conversation that usually goes along with duty sex (explaining to Hubby, in language that men understand, why his offer is not alluring in any way).
I responded, "No, thank you." That's it. A simple, "No, thank you."
Hubby knew he was in trouble. He was ready for, "Sure, let's fuck!" or a conversation of some kind, but "No, thank you" in that situation is wife-speak for, "Don't do me any favors, you son-of-a-bitch. And don't touch me, either."
I rolled over and was in the process of falling asleep (because I really was that tired), but he wanted to talk. Uuugghhhhhh. So, we talked about the duty sex offer. We talked about how many hours I've been working and how he wants me to work less. We talked about how I'd like a little help around the house. We talked about how he misses me because I'm gone so much. We talked about how little sex we've had recently and his fear that it means I'm getting it elsewhere (which is true, but not lately. Why? Because I'm working too much!).
By the time the conversation was done, I was wishing I had ignored my abhorrence of duty sex and just said, "Sure, let's fuck!" We would have been done a lot sooner. A lot sooner.
It occurred to me this morning that this bout of marital discord could have been avoided with just a little bit better communication before we got into bed. All I had to do was indicate that I wanted it or not and Hubby never would have been forced into his atrocious duty sex offer which started the downhill spiral. While I was tired, I wasn't too tired to say, "Let's get it on" or "Let's skip sex tonight, ok?" That's all it would have taken.
But I didn't say anything. The real problem wasn't that I have been working too much (although that is a problem). The real problem was communication....again.
So, today I decided that I was not going to make the same mistake. I sent Hubby the following series of text messages throughout the day:
7:00 a.m. - Please be advised that I would like a nice hard fucking tonight.
10:00 a.m. - Still want to cum. Don't forget.
11:00 a.m. - Did I mention I'm not wearing a bra today?
12:30 p.m. - I'm looking at the picture on my desk of our trip to Florida. Remember making love in the hot tub?
2:30 p.m. - (No words, just a picture of my tits I took in the bathroom with my phone.)
4:00 p.m. - I'll be home by 7:00. Can you get dinner started? That will leave me more energy to give you a nice long blow job later.
5:30 p.m. - Do we have to wait 'til bedtime? Can't we just duck into the back room for a few minutes while the kids are watching TV? Better yet...let's do that AND do it at bedtime, too!
6:30 p.m. - Did I mention that I'm horny and I would love some hot sex with you tonight? Be home soon.;-)
Think he got the message?
I'll let you know. It's time to head home.
And that includes sex.
Marital sex is complicated enough under the best of circumstances, but when you throw in crazy work hours and work-induced exhaustion, it's even worse.
For example, I worked a 15 hour day yesterday (yes, on Sunday), came home, fixed dinner for the family (late), cleaned up, got the little one bathed and to bed, showered myself and went to bed. Don't even get me started on why I had to make dinner when Hubby and my adult son were home all day lounging around; that's really another conversation entirely, but it is related to the exhaustion factor.
In spite of all of that, I was up for sex. Heck, I'm always up for sex. In fact, I primed the pump, so to speak, in the shower and it wouldn't have taken much to make me very, very happy, relaxed, and ready for my six hours of sleep.
I got in bed, and there was Hubby. Sweet Hubby. Hubby had a dilemma. He knew I've been working like crazy and he doesn't want to pressure me into sex when he knows I'm tired. Of course, he had no problem with that over the dinner issue, but I digress.....again.
He also knows that, generally speaking, I want sex all the time. He's not particularly interested in sex.
He's confused. He has a dilemma. What to do? What to do?
So, he says, "I can do you if you want. I don't want it, but I can do you if you want."
Wow. What a way to get a gal's pussy quivering....NOT.
I would have enjoyed sex, even as tired as I was, but I was too tired to deal with "duty sex" and the emotion that it stirs up in me. And I was way too tried to have the conversation that usually goes along with duty sex (explaining to Hubby, in language that men understand, why his offer is not alluring in any way).
I responded, "No, thank you." That's it. A simple, "No, thank you."
Hubby knew he was in trouble. He was ready for, "Sure, let's fuck!" or a conversation of some kind, but "No, thank you" in that situation is wife-speak for, "Don't do me any favors, you son-of-a-bitch. And don't touch me, either."
I rolled over and was in the process of falling asleep (because I really was that tired), but he wanted to talk. Uuugghhhhhh. So, we talked about the duty sex offer. We talked about how many hours I've been working and how he wants me to work less. We talked about how I'd like a little help around the house. We talked about how he misses me because I'm gone so much. We talked about how little sex we've had recently and his fear that it means I'm getting it elsewhere (which is true, but not lately. Why? Because I'm working too much!).
By the time the conversation was done, I was wishing I had ignored my abhorrence of duty sex and just said, "Sure, let's fuck!" We would have been done a lot sooner. A lot sooner.
It occurred to me this morning that this bout of marital discord could have been avoided with just a little bit better communication before we got into bed. All I had to do was indicate that I wanted it or not and Hubby never would have been forced into his atrocious duty sex offer which started the downhill spiral. While I was tired, I wasn't too tired to say, "Let's get it on" or "Let's skip sex tonight, ok?" That's all it would have taken.
But I didn't say anything. The real problem wasn't that I have been working too much (although that is a problem). The real problem was communication....again.
So, today I decided that I was not going to make the same mistake. I sent Hubby the following series of text messages throughout the day:
7:00 a.m. - Please be advised that I would like a nice hard fucking tonight.
10:00 a.m. - Still want to cum. Don't forget.
11:00 a.m. - Did I mention I'm not wearing a bra today?
12:30 p.m. - I'm looking at the picture on my desk of our trip to Florida. Remember making love in the hot tub?
2:30 p.m. - (No words, just a picture of my tits I took in the bathroom with my phone.)
4:00 p.m. - I'll be home by 7:00. Can you get dinner started? That will leave me more energy to give you a nice long blow job later.
5:30 p.m. - Do we have to wait 'til bedtime? Can't we just duck into the back room for a few minutes while the kids are watching TV? Better yet...let's do that AND do it at bedtime, too!
6:30 p.m. - Did I mention that I'm horny and I would love some hot sex with you tonight? Be home soon.;-)
Think he got the message?
I'll let you know. It's time to head home.
Friday, May 18, 2012
The Other Husband
I knew it would happen eventually, but I wasn't prepared for it. Hubby did all of his fooling around locally - with women I know. These are women I see around town regularly. One is the mother of a child at my son's school. Others attend my church.
There's really nothing to say or do when I have a "slut sighting," as I call it, except smile sweetly and get the hell out of there as soon as possible.
What I wasn't prepared for was an encounter with a husband or boyfriend of one of Hubby's playmates. I was innocently walking around the block at lunch time to shake off some work stress and Mr. M walked out of a business onto the sidewalk and right into my path. I stopped for a moment, startled. he said, "Oh! Excuse me!" and then he looked up and saw who I was and then he looked startled, too.
It was one of those slow motion moments - two people staring at each other for what seemed like forever but it probably was only a second. I turned away first, said, "Sorry" quickly, and started walking away.
What is the polite thing to say in such a situation? As some of you will remember from some earlier posts, I have been to charm school three times. I know the rules of etiquette. I've read all the famous books on the subject, but I don't remember a chapter on "What to say to the husband of the woman your husband was fucking for several years." The only thing I knew for sure was that when such a moment arrived, I was not going to let myself say "I'm sorry" as a reflex because I don't owe an apology for my husband's behavior. Ok, I might say "I'm sorry this happened to your family," but that's it.
I was two steps away, thinking I had made a clean getaway when I heard, "Excuse me, Kat...." Damn. I turned around and raised my eyebrows, giving the nonverbal "what can I do for you?" signal. All I knew for sure at that moment was that speaking as little as possible was probably my best bet.
"Mrs. M told me what happened," he said. "With your husband, I mean."
Gee, I'm glad you clarified that, I thought.
"Oh. Okay," I said. So far, the 'woman of few words' plan was working well.
"Are they still.....involved?" he asked.
"I don't think so," I answered,"but I really don't know." I tried to turn and walk again, but then he said, "I didn't know, you know. I had no clue. Did you know?"
That's when I saw the pain on his face, in his eyes. My heart broke for him. Damn, I thought. There's no clean getaway here.
"No, I didn't know. I didn't have a clue, either. In fact, a couple of friends of mine asked me if I thought he was fooling around and I swore that I was sure he wasn't, so that shows you what I know. It wasn't just you."
He asked me to sit with him on the nearby bus bench and talk, and I agreed. I'm not sure why I agreed. I felt badly for him. I felt like I owed him some time, although I don't know why. He told me what he knew about it and he asked questions. He was unaware that his wife wasn't the only one. He was unaware that to Hubby it was not an emotional affair at all, that it was only sex. He was unaware that they did their fucking in my bed. He was unaware that his wife had taken money for her "services." I was unaware that sometimes her child was with her, sitting on the couch in my living room while mommy and her friend played in the back room. I was unaware that to his wife it was most definitely an emotional affair and she thought she was in love with my Hubby. I was unaware that Mr. and Mrs. M were struggling to keep their marriage together and it didn't look like they were going to make it.
Thirty minutes later, I think we both felt like we'd been put through an emotional wringer. I couldn't believe that I had been afraid of an attack. This man wasn't on the offensive at all. He was simply trying to make sense of it all and keep his family together. He was broken.
He asked, "Have you ever thought of cheating, too?"
I hadn't lied yet. This was no time to start, but I kept my answer simple.
"Yes."
"Me, too," he said, "but then I'd be just like her."
I smiled and said, "Only if you did it for money in my bed." We both laughed. He cocked his head a little and looked at me. I think he was trying to figure out if I was just trying to lighten the mood or if I was flirting. It was a little of both, to be honest.
We chatted a little more and then I told him I had to get back to work. He asked if we could get together for lunch next week. I told him that I was busy at work and wasn't available, but then he asked about the following week. As I agreed, I already knew that I'd probably cancel. Unlike my Hubby, I don't play with folks from town (Okay, there was Young One, but he was an exception - in several ways). I don't think that's what Mr. M had in mind, but it was a chance I didn't want to take.
We said goodbye and I continued my walk. I wanted to slap Hubby at that moment and tell him, "Look what you did to that man?!" But that would have been a bit hypocritical, wouldn't it? I was going to go home later and tell him about the encounter and ask him if he ever thought about Mr.M, the other husband.
There's really nothing to say or do when I have a "slut sighting," as I call it, except smile sweetly and get the hell out of there as soon as possible.
What I wasn't prepared for was an encounter with a husband or boyfriend of one of Hubby's playmates. I was innocently walking around the block at lunch time to shake off some work stress and Mr. M walked out of a business onto the sidewalk and right into my path. I stopped for a moment, startled. he said, "Oh! Excuse me!" and then he looked up and saw who I was and then he looked startled, too.
It was one of those slow motion moments - two people staring at each other for what seemed like forever but it probably was only a second. I turned away first, said, "Sorry" quickly, and started walking away.
What is the polite thing to say in such a situation? As some of you will remember from some earlier posts, I have been to charm school three times. I know the rules of etiquette. I've read all the famous books on the subject, but I don't remember a chapter on "What to say to the husband of the woman your husband was fucking for several years." The only thing I knew for sure was that when such a moment arrived, I was not going to let myself say "I'm sorry" as a reflex because I don't owe an apology for my husband's behavior. Ok, I might say "I'm sorry this happened to your family," but that's it.
I was two steps away, thinking I had made a clean getaway when I heard, "Excuse me, Kat...." Damn. I turned around and raised my eyebrows, giving the nonverbal "what can I do for you?" signal. All I knew for sure at that moment was that speaking as little as possible was probably my best bet.
"Mrs. M told me what happened," he said. "With your husband, I mean."
Gee, I'm glad you clarified that, I thought.
"Oh. Okay," I said. So far, the 'woman of few words' plan was working well.
"Are they still.....involved?" he asked.
"I don't think so," I answered,"but I really don't know." I tried to turn and walk again, but then he said, "I didn't know, you know. I had no clue. Did you know?"
That's when I saw the pain on his face, in his eyes. My heart broke for him. Damn, I thought. There's no clean getaway here.
"No, I didn't know. I didn't have a clue, either. In fact, a couple of friends of mine asked me if I thought he was fooling around and I swore that I was sure he wasn't, so that shows you what I know. It wasn't just you."
He asked me to sit with him on the nearby bus bench and talk, and I agreed. I'm not sure why I agreed. I felt badly for him. I felt like I owed him some time, although I don't know why. He told me what he knew about it and he asked questions. He was unaware that his wife wasn't the only one. He was unaware that to Hubby it was not an emotional affair at all, that it was only sex. He was unaware that they did their fucking in my bed. He was unaware that his wife had taken money for her "services." I was unaware that sometimes her child was with her, sitting on the couch in my living room while mommy and her friend played in the back room. I was unaware that to his wife it was most definitely an emotional affair and she thought she was in love with my Hubby. I was unaware that Mr. and Mrs. M were struggling to keep their marriage together and it didn't look like they were going to make it.
Thirty minutes later, I think we both felt like we'd been put through an emotional wringer. I couldn't believe that I had been afraid of an attack. This man wasn't on the offensive at all. He was simply trying to make sense of it all and keep his family together. He was broken.
He asked, "Have you ever thought of cheating, too?"
I hadn't lied yet. This was no time to start, but I kept my answer simple.
"Yes."
"Me, too," he said, "but then I'd be just like her."
I smiled and said, "Only if you did it for money in my bed." We both laughed. He cocked his head a little and looked at me. I think he was trying to figure out if I was just trying to lighten the mood or if I was flirting. It was a little of both, to be honest.
We chatted a little more and then I told him I had to get back to work. He asked if we could get together for lunch next week. I told him that I was busy at work and wasn't available, but then he asked about the following week. As I agreed, I already knew that I'd probably cancel. Unlike my Hubby, I don't play with folks from town (Okay, there was Young One, but he was an exception - in several ways). I don't think that's what Mr. M had in mind, but it was a chance I didn't want to take.
We said goodbye and I continued my walk. I wanted to slap Hubby at that moment and tell him, "Look what you did to that man?!" But that would have been a bit hypocritical, wouldn't it? I was going to go home later and tell him about the encounter and ask him if he ever thought about Mr.M, the other husband.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Frustrated Kat
Hubby came to me yesterday with a very concerned look on his face and he asked if we could talk. Those are ominous words. "Can we talk?" Honestly, I wanted to say, "Do we have to?" but what came out of my mouth was, "Of course. What's up?"
I held my breath until I heard him say, "What's wrong? You don't want sex anymore."
First of all, that's how my hubby is. If something is amiss for a week or two, it's "forever." That's the way it will be for the rest of our lives.
Second, I told you yesterday that I've been on a deadline lately. Not only has that work kept me away from you, Prowlers, but it has also been making me get up early and get to bed late. I haven't been home as much, and when I have been home, I've been tired.
But not want sex anymore? Oh, please.
Apparently he noticed that his new-found love of anal has been leaving me...uh....unsatisfied. That's a good sign, but he was concerned because I wasn't pushing for it. The truth is that I have simply been too tired to have that conversation one...more...time.
So, I've been taking care of things myself, if you know what I mean.
I've been pretty open and blunt recently since we got things out on the table, so I just told him the truth - that it has been easier to handle it myself than to negotiate "getting mine" when he has been so happy about exploring anal. However, I added that his selfish sex season would be ending as soon as I got beyond by current deadline.
But he wasn't really concerned about me "getting mine" at all. He wanted to know if I was getting it somewhere else since I wasn't getting it at home. I really wished he would just ask the question straight up, but he didn't, so I threw him a line -
"And no," I said, "I haven't been having sex with anyone else during this period, except myself, of course."
I wanted to scream, "My vagina hasn't felt a live cock for weeks!!!! Ok, 10 days, but it feels like weeks. You have apparently forgotten that I'm female - I might as well be some guy since all you want is my ass, and JJ has been too busy for me lately. And you think I don't want sex???"
But I didn't say any of that. He felt reassured, and it ended there.
Last night, I got us to bed a little early, and I snuggled up against him, kissing his neck, tracing my finger along his inner thigh.
I asked, "So, you implied earlier that you wanted me to be more interested in sex, and I am, so......." I put his hand on my wet pussy to prove it.
And he told me he was tired and not feeling very well.
"Raincheck?" he asked.
"Of course, Honey," I responded.
Then I grabbed Spartacus and headed to the other room.
Yes, I am a frustrated Kat.
I held my breath until I heard him say, "What's wrong? You don't want sex anymore."
First of all, that's how my hubby is. If something is amiss for a week or two, it's "forever." That's the way it will be for the rest of our lives.
Second, I told you yesterday that I've been on a deadline lately. Not only has that work kept me away from you, Prowlers, but it has also been making me get up early and get to bed late. I haven't been home as much, and when I have been home, I've been tired.
But not want sex anymore? Oh, please.
Apparently he noticed that his new-found love of anal has been leaving me...uh....unsatisfied. That's a good sign, but he was concerned because I wasn't pushing for it. The truth is that I have simply been too tired to have that conversation one...more...time.
So, I've been taking care of things myself, if you know what I mean.
I've been pretty open and blunt recently since we got things out on the table, so I just told him the truth - that it has been easier to handle it myself than to negotiate "getting mine" when he has been so happy about exploring anal. However, I added that his selfish sex season would be ending as soon as I got beyond by current deadline.
But he wasn't really concerned about me "getting mine" at all. He wanted to know if I was getting it somewhere else since I wasn't getting it at home. I really wished he would just ask the question straight up, but he didn't, so I threw him a line -
"And no," I said, "I haven't been having sex with anyone else during this period, except myself, of course."
I wanted to scream, "My vagina hasn't felt a live cock for weeks!!!! Ok, 10 days, but it feels like weeks. You have apparently forgotten that I'm female - I might as well be some guy since all you want is my ass, and JJ has been too busy for me lately. And you think I don't want sex???"
But I didn't say any of that. He felt reassured, and it ended there.
Last night, I got us to bed a little early, and I snuggled up against him, kissing his neck, tracing my finger along his inner thigh.
I asked, "So, you implied earlier that you wanted me to be more interested in sex, and I am, so......." I put his hand on my wet pussy to prove it.
And he told me he was tired and not feeling very well.
"Raincheck?" he asked.
"Of course, Honey," I responded.
Then I grabbed Spartacus and headed to the other room.
Yes, I am a frustrated Kat.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Home for Lunch
I looked at the clock earlier today and noticed that it was almost lunch time. I sent Hubby a text.
Kat: Are you at home?
Hubby: Yes. Why?
Kat: I was thinking of coming home for lunch....and a little "lunch."
Hubby: But we had "lunch" last night.
Kat: I know, but I'm hungry again. ;-)
Hubby: Ok. Which lunch do you want first?
Kat: What do you think?
Hubby: I'll be in the bedroom.
When I arrived at home 10 minutes later, my 8 year old was in the living room watching TV. I had forgotten that he was out of school early all week.
"Hi, Mom," he said. Dad's back in your bedroom. He says he's taking a power nap."
"Oh, what a good idea! I think I'll take a power nap, too," I said.
As I was heading down the hallway, I heard him call after me, "I'm setting the alarm on my iPod for 20 minutes. Power naps are supposed to be short. Then I want lunch."
"No problem, little man," I shouted as I slipped into our bedroom and closed the door behind me.
I kicked off my shoes, pulled up my skirt, and started pulling off my panties - all at the same time.
I told Hubby, "Your youngest son says we have 20 minutes....and he set his alarm."
"So now he's my son? I'll lock the door," Hubby said as he moved quickly to secure the door.
By the time he got back to the bed I was already in bed with my skirt hiked up around my waist. I didn't think I needed to take anything else off, at least not for a quickie.
I curled up next to Hubby and started kissing him. He reached over to the nightstand to grab some lube.
"You're not going to need that," I purred.
He smiled. "Ok. We'll see about that," and he moved his hand between my thighs. We continued to kiss while he slid a couple fingers between my pussy lips. He smiled into our kiss. "My, my," he said. "You feel very hungry."
I giggled and opened my legs for him. His fingers found my clit right away and he had me in that sweet pleasure place very quickly. I rocked my hips, pressing against his hand, trying to control the rhythm, but he was having none of that. He just kept working my clit slowly at the tempo he wanted.
The kissing continued as he played with me. Deep passionate kisses, not our normal fare at all, but very, very nice.
I really was very "hungry" so I knew it wouldn't take long for me. In about 3 minutes, I started screaming in his mouth as I came, and he held onto me tightly and said, "God, Kat, I love you so much....."
Breathlessly, I moaned, "I love you, too, Hubby..."
I curled up in his arms for a few minutes, just letting the little waves of pleasure ripple through me. After a little while, he pulled his arm out from under me and got up onto his knees. He pulled down his sweat pants and his cock was hard and at attention.
I sat up a little and leaned on one elbow while I reached around him with the other arm and pulled his hips closer to me as I took him into my mouth - completely in one long, deep stroke. He moaned loudly as the head popped into my throat.
He was right about us having had "lunch" last night. I gave him head then, too, but that was different. Last night, I worked him very slowly and deeply and maintained full control the whole time. Today, he was thrusting into my mouth, fucking my mouth hard, entwining his fingers into my hair and pulling me onto him as he thrust into me. I focused on keeping up, breathing when I could, and pressing down with my soft palate every time he pushed himself far inside my mouth, back to my throat, which was almost every thrust at one point.
I could feel him getting close to orgasm when he stopped and pulled his cock out of my mouth.
"I want to fuck you," he said.
Breathlessly, I responded, "Do we have time? Power nap. 20 minutes, remember?"
"When you told me he set his alarm for 20 minutes, I set mine for 19," he said. "Now get on your hands and knees."
"Yes, Sir!" I said, laughing as I re-positioned quickly.
He grabbed my hips and slid his cock inside me quickly. Usually, we both like a slow, deep entrance, but time was an issue right then. I have to say that quick and hard felt pretty nice.
Within about 2 minutes, I started to get that tingly feeling, which surprised me because I didn't expect to come twice. I started pressing back against him as he pounded me, hoping I could get a two-fer, thinking that maybe, if we could just keep it going a little longer......
I pushed back hard and wrapped my feet and ankles around his thighs as I came, trying to keep him deep inside as I came. He complied and didn't move for about 30 seconds, letting me shake and claim every shudder that I could.
When I relaxed, he grabbed my hips and started fucking me hard and fast. It felt like that reignited my orgasm which started to roll again. I grabbed onto the edge of the bed and surrendered to it.
When he came, he plunged into me deeply, groaning and digging his fingers into my skin.
After about a minute, he pulled out slowly and lay down next to me. I rolled over onto my back and snuggled up next to him.
"Wow," he said.
"Nice lunch!" I replied.
Then his alarm went off. He turned it off, got up, and unlocked the door quickly. He came back to bed and we pulled the covers up over us. Shortly thereafter, we could hear our son's iPod alarm going off in the other room, and then the house rumbled as he ran down the hallway and burst into our room.
"Wake up! Power nap is over!" he yelled, half shouting and half laughing.
Hubby and I acted like we were startled from our sleep.
Stretching his arms and yawning, Hubby said, "What a great nap."
"Get up!" cried our son. "It's time for lunch!" Then he ran out of the room again.
I looked at hubby wickedly, grabbed his inner thigh and said, "You heard him. It's lunch time."
Hubby laughed. "It's the other kind of lunch time, you naughty girl." And he got up and left the room, too.
I stretched out on the bed, relaxing for a minute until I heard the little man yell from the other room, "Mom! get up!"
I smiled and thought about how fortunate I was. Right at that moment I had everything I could ever want.
My next thought was that I should come home for lunch more often.
Kat: Are you at home?
Hubby: Yes. Why?
Kat: I was thinking of coming home for lunch....and a little "lunch."
Hubby: But we had "lunch" last night.
Kat: I know, but I'm hungry again. ;-)
Hubby: Ok. Which lunch do you want first?
Kat: What do you think?
Hubby: I'll be in the bedroom.
When I arrived at home 10 minutes later, my 8 year old was in the living room watching TV. I had forgotten that he was out of school early all week.
"Hi, Mom," he said. Dad's back in your bedroom. He says he's taking a power nap."
"Oh, what a good idea! I think I'll take a power nap, too," I said.
As I was heading down the hallway, I heard him call after me, "I'm setting the alarm on my iPod for 20 minutes. Power naps are supposed to be short. Then I want lunch."
"No problem, little man," I shouted as I slipped into our bedroom and closed the door behind me.
I kicked off my shoes, pulled up my skirt, and started pulling off my panties - all at the same time.
I told Hubby, "Your youngest son says we have 20 minutes....and he set his alarm."
"So now he's my son? I'll lock the door," Hubby said as he moved quickly to secure the door.
By the time he got back to the bed I was already in bed with my skirt hiked up around my waist. I didn't think I needed to take anything else off, at least not for a quickie.
I curled up next to Hubby and started kissing him. He reached over to the nightstand to grab some lube.
"You're not going to need that," I purred.
He smiled. "Ok. We'll see about that," and he moved his hand between my thighs. We continued to kiss while he slid a couple fingers between my pussy lips. He smiled into our kiss. "My, my," he said. "You feel very hungry."
I giggled and opened my legs for him. His fingers found my clit right away and he had me in that sweet pleasure place very quickly. I rocked my hips, pressing against his hand, trying to control the rhythm, but he was having none of that. He just kept working my clit slowly at the tempo he wanted.
The kissing continued as he played with me. Deep passionate kisses, not our normal fare at all, but very, very nice.
I really was very "hungry" so I knew it wouldn't take long for me. In about 3 minutes, I started screaming in his mouth as I came, and he held onto me tightly and said, "God, Kat, I love you so much....."
Breathlessly, I moaned, "I love you, too, Hubby..."
I curled up in his arms for a few minutes, just letting the little waves of pleasure ripple through me. After a little while, he pulled his arm out from under me and got up onto his knees. He pulled down his sweat pants and his cock was hard and at attention.
I sat up a little and leaned on one elbow while I reached around him with the other arm and pulled his hips closer to me as I took him into my mouth - completely in one long, deep stroke. He moaned loudly as the head popped into my throat.
He was right about us having had "lunch" last night. I gave him head then, too, but that was different. Last night, I worked him very slowly and deeply and maintained full control the whole time. Today, he was thrusting into my mouth, fucking my mouth hard, entwining his fingers into my hair and pulling me onto him as he thrust into me. I focused on keeping up, breathing when I could, and pressing down with my soft palate every time he pushed himself far inside my mouth, back to my throat, which was almost every thrust at one point.
I could feel him getting close to orgasm when he stopped and pulled his cock out of my mouth.
"I want to fuck you," he said.
Breathlessly, I responded, "Do we have time? Power nap. 20 minutes, remember?"
"When you told me he set his alarm for 20 minutes, I set mine for 19," he said. "Now get on your hands and knees."
"Yes, Sir!" I said, laughing as I re-positioned quickly.
He grabbed my hips and slid his cock inside me quickly. Usually, we both like a slow, deep entrance, but time was an issue right then. I have to say that quick and hard felt pretty nice.
Within about 2 minutes, I started to get that tingly feeling, which surprised me because I didn't expect to come twice. I started pressing back against him as he pounded me, hoping I could get a two-fer, thinking that maybe, if we could just keep it going a little longer......
I pushed back hard and wrapped my feet and ankles around his thighs as I came, trying to keep him deep inside as I came. He complied and didn't move for about 30 seconds, letting me shake and claim every shudder that I could.
When I relaxed, he grabbed my hips and started fucking me hard and fast. It felt like that reignited my orgasm which started to roll again. I grabbed onto the edge of the bed and surrendered to it.
When he came, he plunged into me deeply, groaning and digging his fingers into my skin.
After about a minute, he pulled out slowly and lay down next to me. I rolled over onto my back and snuggled up next to him.
"Wow," he said.
"Nice lunch!" I replied.
Then his alarm went off. He turned it off, got up, and unlocked the door quickly. He came back to bed and we pulled the covers up over us. Shortly thereafter, we could hear our son's iPod alarm going off in the other room, and then the house rumbled as he ran down the hallway and burst into our room.
"Wake up! Power nap is over!" he yelled, half shouting and half laughing.
Hubby and I acted like we were startled from our sleep.
Stretching his arms and yawning, Hubby said, "What a great nap."
"Get up!" cried our son. "It's time for lunch!" Then he ran out of the room again.
I looked at hubby wickedly, grabbed his inner thigh and said, "You heard him. It's lunch time."
Hubby laughed. "It's the other kind of lunch time, you naughty girl." And he got up and left the room, too.
I stretched out on the bed, relaxing for a minute until I heard the little man yell from the other room, "Mom! get up!"
I smiled and thought about how fortunate I was. Right at that moment I had everything I could ever want.
My next thought was that I should come home for lunch more often.
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