the bet

We were talking about Carl Friedrich Gauss, the mathematician who discovered when he was a boy the formula for adding up the numbers from 1 to 100. Do you know this story?

This was when he was just a little kid, my husband said.

No way was he just a little kid! I said.

And so we made a bet. I bet he was more than ten years old, while my husband bet that he was less. We shook hands. The bet was our standard bet: one million dollars. But I wanted to have sex, so I made a suggestion.

How about if I win, I get to have sex with you. And if you win, you get to have sex with me? We laughed and agreed. He went to look it up.

What are you learning? I asked.

He was in third grade, my husband told me. I thought I had lost, because I wasn’t 10 until the fifth grade.

Then my husband started to laugh. You’ll never guess! he said. Gauss was 10.

Well, then we both lost, I said. Let’s have sex anyway.

So we were in bed naked, cuddling in the cold, happy and smiling. But I was not really horny. He suggested we look at pornography, but I said no.

One or the other of us got the idea that he should go down on me, but my period was still finishing up, so he got some plastic wrap at my request, because I didn’t want him to eat my blood.

Put some lubricant on my clit first, I said. I lay back on the bed with my legs spread wide.

The moment his fingers smeared the lubricant on my clit, I was entirely aroused. That’s what you should do if you want to make me horny, I said, and it felt so good that I had difficulty consenting to him going down on me, but he did.

His tongue played with my clit. He licked hard. Fast and slow he went. I was whimpering within seconds. I caressed my tits and went deeper and deeper into the feelings.

Don’t stop, I said. Stop stopping, I said. He was torturing me by stopping every few seconds, when I was at the edge of coming, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

I felt the eventuality build inside of me, but I was impatient. I wanted to come to my own aid. I was climbing the mountain an inch at a time.

But I knew he wanted to make me come entirely by himself, so I submitted to his will and lay there, rubbing my nipples furiously, imagining him fucking me aggressively, imagining his cock thrusting into me over and over again, being pinned, imagining him coming, imagining coming with him, concentrating on the quick way he flicked my clit with his tongue...

...then grinding myself in his face, all rational thought impossible as I became an animal entirely focused on orgasm that was about to hit me, whiney and getting screamy...

until finally it was about to arrive, and I was overcome, crying out and shrieking, his tongue relentlessly continuing to pound my clit as I writhed and felt the ecstatic equivalent of panic, when the feelings are just too much but all I want is for them to continue. The orgasm flowed through my body like water, and all the strain was over.

He continued to lick me for a long time, as I lay there completely relaxed. The intense feelings were replaced with a deeply satisfied peace.

Finally I pushed him off of me, and he kissed me and held me. The plastic had shifted in all the excitement, but there wasn’t really any blood. What do you want to do now, I asked, and he wanted to beat off on me while I tugged at his balls.

So he got lubricant and beat off. I put lubricant on his balls too, and pulled on them. Ultimately, he came on my tits.

fucking on a cold afternoon

Today he was taking a break from training for work, and we lay in bed. It was a cold afternoon, but the window was open, and leaves were blowing in the wind.

We cuddled, and we kissed. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and moved his hand to my breast. I grabbed his cock through his clothes—it was hard—and asked him if he wanted to be close. He did.

We took off our clothes and lay together under the covers, snug and cozy, masturbating together. My clit felt wide, juicy, alive. Do you like masturbating with me? I asked, and he said yes.

He got a condom, positioned himself between my legs, and slipped into me. I pulled the covers around us to keep us warm. I held him and caressed his head and neck. He thrust himself into me sweetly.

I pushed my tits together so he could get a good view. He sucked one nipple then the other as he fucked me. One of the angles he chose put a lot of pressure on my clit, and it felt so good that I started whimpering. God, I said. I love you. I trust you, I said. I belong to you. You can do whatever you want to me.

He wanted to make me come, I could tell. I whimpered more as the sex felt better and better. I was at the edge of coming and wanted it so bad. He would speed up, but fast isn’t what I wanted.

I held my tits and touched my nipples. We were getting hot and sweaty, so I threw off the covers, and the cool air was on our skin. I caressed his back and gently dug my nails in when the fucking felt extra-good. I might come, he warned me as he pumped himself inside me.

That’s good, I said, and he did. I grabbed him and held on tight as he cried out and fucked me hard. His hand went to the condom, and when he pulled out, my hand went to my clit immediately. I rubbed it and stroked it fast. He was between my legs still, with his hands on my breasts, and he brushed his fingertips back and forth on my nipples quickly. My head was thrown back, and I felt a little afraid as I realized an intense orgasm was building. I heard myself whimpering loudly as I tried to hold it off for a few seconds longer.

Then it hit me, and my entire body tensed as the hot, delicious waves pounded through my body. I heard myself crying out the way I have been, lately, trying to stay quiet but a little out of control.

My body remained tense as I continued to rub my clit slowly and continued to come, until the feelings tapered to a more ordinary feeling of happiness, and I was filled with a calm and used up, finished feeling and the desire to hold onto my husband, rub my face on his face, and tell him, You’re my husband, you’re my partner, you’re everything to me.

lust

We were cuddling in bed. Are you horny? I asked. My clit was alert and interested. I squeezed my thighs together to increase the ache. I felt tipsy, though it was the middle of the day, and I don’t drink.

Then he was lying on his back, and I went down on him. His cock was small at first. I like to make it big in my mouth—I like to take it the full range from small and soft, to big and gagging. I went down on him with enthusiasm. When it made me gag too much, I used my hand for a while, then back to sucking his dick again.

Get a condom, I told him. I sucked his dick until he seemed very ready, then put the condom on him and fucked him. I put my hands on the bed above his shoulders and fucked him with long, complete strokes. I put my hands on his shoulders and fucked him fast and shallower. I leaned back and sat on him, making little motions, watching his face and listening to the speed of his breathing to make sure he really liked everything I was doing, learning about him all the time.

When I had my hands on the bed above his shoulders, he stared at my tits and played with them, sucking my nipples, which I loved. I had my right foot on the floor, and that was good, but it taxed me, so I rolled off him to my side of the bed.

He got some lubricant and touched my clit. It was sweet as I rested. Then he wanted to fuck me some more. I lay there masturbating. Tell me when to turn over, I said.

Turn over, he said. He put a new condom on and entered me hard. As usual, the first penetration from behind feels exciting and surprising, and I make a sound that communicates that to both of us.

He fucked me like mad, just pounding me, then slowing to almost a tease. This cycle happened over and over again. I listened carefully to his sounds and the squeaking of the bed. I loved to hear him so happy. He sounded uninhibited and completely lost in the act of sex. My pleasure was so increased by knowing he was well. He’s been so stressed out and moody lately that I feel intense sex is one of the best things I can do for him.

I’m going to come, he said, and his cries intensified, and his fucking became more deliberate and shuddering. His hand went to the condom. He kept fucking me that way for a little while, wanting the moment to continue.

Then I masturbated. He fucked me with the blue vibrator from behind as I rubbed my clit. When I finally came, it was as intense as the day before, and I was making high shrieking sounds as the waves hit me hard and in quick succession.

We only had a little while to cuddle afterwards because I needed to take a shower and go to a religious meeting, the one where we ask to be purified of the stain of lust. I don’t know if this disconnect between my sex life and outside religous life can continue.

porn viewing and what happened after

Yesterday, we watched straight porn together for the first time. We had looked at gay porn together, before. I had to be very brave to watch this straight porn with him. Somehow my porn viewing seemed more real, now that I had a witness. It was emotionally difficult, especially afterwards, feeling the gnaw of guilt after a life of being told how tamped down and unimportant my sexual feelings were supposed to be if I wanted to be a moral, respectable woman. By viewing this porn, I was defying all of that, and should I be embarassed or ashamed? I know rationally that my habits are healthy, but it scares me sometimes to step so far away from what my family and culture have trained me to be.

On another, more animal level, we were just horny to the point of drooling. I rubbed my clit with my right hand as I jacked him off with my left, watching the hottest of the porn I had found on my own, over the past few weeks: enthusiastic couples doing it in hotel rooms, a young three-some in Germany.

Slow down, he kept cautioning me, so he wouldn't come as I touched his cock. I had to stop a few times myself so I wouldn't come, until finally we were flushed and shakey and made our way to the bedroom.

He fucked me from behind so deeply, we were gasping. My cunt had never felt so slippery--it felt like he wasn't even wearing a condom. We were out of our minds.

My cunt ached with the need to come. I reached my right hand to my clit and gave a few rubs until I was crying and making high-pitched shrieking sounds as I came, one of the most intense orgasms that I remember, as he pounded me from behind.

Then he came too, as out of control as I had been, bucking and crying out.

We cuddled for a long time, exhausted and spent: that strange feeling when reality hits you, and slowly you're a human being again. It's okay to leave the trance when I'm in his arms, we're sleepy, and we're filled with religious peace.

fall

It was night. We had only the small lamp shining. We were talking in bed--I don't remember what it was about.

I touched his cock through his green knit boxer shorts, and it got hard right away. I unbottoned the opening of his shorts, and his cock stuck straight up. I carassed it and rubbed it with spit on my hand. I held his balls and touched the base of his cock with my fingertips. I traced the ridge where the head meets the shaft. I stoked it slowly and long, and then I jacked him off quick and shallow. I played with it for a long time, and he was completely still, motionless as a statue, until finally he moved to take off his clothes, and I took off mine.

He opened a condom and fucked me. His cock was plunging into me in all different ways. I would change the angle of his entrance, and he would go fast then slow. He came to a complete stop so he wouldn't come and then started again.

I pushed my tits together, and he stared as he fucked me. He sucked one nipple, fucked me fast, sucked the other, fucked me fast again.

I would do anything for you, I said.

What I really meant was that I would do anything if he would just keep fucking me like that. I felt deeply satisfied with his partnership. I felt no other man or woman could interest me in any way if he just kept fucking me forever.

The cat was crying. Should we just ingnore him? he asked.

I said no, and he let the cat out. When he came back, he plunged into me again right away. He fucked me beautifully, and we looked into eachother's eyes.

His motions became more foreceful and needy. My eyes were closed, and my head was back. I'm going to come, he said, and he did. His eyes were closed now, as I watched the pain-like expressions on his face, so much beauty.

He held me and played with my nipples as I masturbated. I imagined him fucking me from behind--I imagined it was the next day, and I was getting fucked again, but harder and more aggressively.

I imagined my clit as a vibrant center of my being to rub and rub until the pleasure exploded inside me. He looked at me with tenderness as I looked into his eyes and shared the feelings with him as I came and my body was shuddering.

We cuddled for a long time and then got up to have more night. I made coconut and carob cookies, and before we went to sleep, we wrote poems.