sun bathing, deep throating

This afternoon I took a shower and then lay naked on the bed. The way the afternoon light in winter enters the bedroom, I can take a sun bath. I lay on my back and opened my legs so the sun could shine onto my cunt. I daydreamed and relaxed. I looked at my breasts, belly, and arms in the light.

I felt happy and drunk on the sunlight. My cunt glowed with heat, and my eyes were half-open. I saw prism-rainbows on my eyelashes, and the warmth of my cunt went beyond warmth and became pleasure.

I reached my hand between my legs to feel the heat. The outer lips of my cunt felt so alive to my touch. I thought, I should become a nudist, because it felt so good--I wanted to feel the sun on my private places every day.

In this way, I thought about my husband. We're planning to take some new nude pictures of one another, and this light will be just perfect. I remembered the last time we had sex, two nights ago, and it was like this.

We were cuddling and close. It was night, and we were in bed. I went down on him. I sucked his dick, and it seemed my destiny, to suck his dick indefinitely. I felt that I existed to suck his dick.

So I had him in my mouth, and I took him as deep as I can. He was going down my throat, and I felt so close to him--I had never felt so close to him. I kept him deep inside of me, and I fucked him with my throat.

His cock was coated with the super-slick, thicker spit that's only in the back of my throat. I made him go from deep in my throat to even deeper. I opened myself to let him in. His cock was slick and felt vibrant.

He groaned and gasped. I wondered how long I could do this. I rubbed my clit with my right hand and kept myself at the edge of coming. I licked the underside of his cock and listened to him. I heard him carefully. I would bring myself to the edge of coming and back off, bring myself to the edge again.

I imagined his cock as I went down on him. I forced him deeper down my throat and tried to understand how close to coming he was. I tried to take on his feelings while keeping mine too.

After a certain amount of time, I was feeling greedy. I didn't think I could take any more of this, and I found myself gagging on his cock. Little tears were at the corners of my eyes. I made him leave my mouth and throat. I jacked him off with the thick slickness that coated his cock. Would I make him come?

No, he didn't want to come then, or I wasn't doing it right, and instead he reached his hand to my cunt. He fingered me gingerly and intently for just seconds, until I was right on the edge and over it, crying out and bucking. The satisfaction flowed through my body.

He still needed to come. He lay on his back, and I showed my breasts to him while he jacked off. I felt loved to see the look of admiration on his face. After so many years, he still finds me fascinating to look at.

When he was close, I insisted on being the one with agency and grabbed his cock, pumped it hard and fast, and heard his cries while I watched the white liquid spurt onto his abdomen over and over again. The come was all over his dick and very much a mess.

I looked at his face and appreciated his beauty as he recovered himself. We held one another for a long time, and I told him how when his cock was far down my throat for so long, I had never felt so close to him. He didn't seem to understand or fully appreciate my words. But I didn't care, because what I felt was real.

'twas the night before Christmas

Christmas Eve, he announced that he wanted to masturbate together. I was pleased and impressed because he initiates only rarely.

So we went to bed to jack off. We cuddled first, then got some lubricant and had at ourselves. I watched his cock in his hand. He looked beautiful, and I enjoyed the feeling of having no responsibility. I didn't have to do anything for him, only for myself. His pleasure was all his own. But we watched one another.

His cock in his hand looked more and more beautiful to me. I found myself longing to know what it felt like. I love my body, love being a woman, my cunt and its little clit. But I longed to know how it feels to have something that big, to wrap my hand around, to get a good hold of. I imagined it carefully. I rubbed myself while pretending to be him.

Somehow we got the idea that he should fuck me from behind while we lay on our sides. The idea was that since we're lying down, it takes less energy (he still wasn't feeling 100%, overly-exhausted from working way too many days in a row).

So we lay on our sides, and he got a condom and fucked me from behind. He gave it to me hard, and I loved it, to feel that gorgeous big cock inside of me after watching it so empathetically for so long. I took it and fucked him back.

It felt nasty, naughty, something forbidden about it--I couldn't tell you why. Maybe the way he thrust seemed selfish, or I was in a mood to feel used. I felt like a bad girl, doubled over on my side while my husband fucked me a bit roughly, but in a good way. The nastiness felt real and very comforting.

He fucked away at me, and his breathing got harder. I heard him say, I'm going to come, and he came inside of me, moaning with abandon, happy.

Then I masturbated again, and at the correct moment, he put his hand to me and made me come. The feelings were intense and brief, like being struck by lightning.

I was happy too. It was a wonderful way to get sleepy. This sex at night is really a good idea--I don't know what we had against it. And a fine merry Christmas.

yes, we came for peace

We came for peace, last night, but we didn't do any of the visualization. I hope it still helps.

My husband was feeling sick at work, exhausted for no reason, and when he got home, I made dinner, we ate, we went to bed. He was lying there with his "I'm sick" expression. We cuddled, and I moved his hand to my breasts. We kissed.

I moved my hand down to his balls and stroked them lovingly. He lay there on his back, tired and quietly happy. His balls are large and gorgeous. God was generous.

I moved my hand to his cock and touched it softly as it grew large and hard. I liked the contrast between his apparent passivity and the involuntary vigor of his cock.

I dove under the covers to go down on him. I lapped the underside, made a lot of friction with my lips, went fast and shallow, then slow and complete. I got him excited, but he was quiet.

Do you like what I'm doing to you? I asked.

It feels so good, he said. His eyes were closed.

I went down on him some more, then got a condom and climbed on. I was in no hurry. The room was dimly lit, and we had nothing to do.

I rode him gently. I put an extra pillow under his head, and he played with the breasts that were right in front of his face. He sucked my nipples and pawed at me. I rode while he amused himself, and I watched his contented expressions.

I would let his cock inside of me only a tiny bit for a few thrusts, then abruptly take the whole thing in. I kept it in deep and fucked him hard, so it went from deep to deeper, and he moaned.

Then we moved together in a daze. He strained to get himself deeper inside of me, and I started to moan too. A feeling passed over me that we were in a very ancient place. The rhythm of it felt sustaining and healing. My legs ached.

He gave me the look that meant I needed to stop or he would come, and I smiled and fucked him harder. I watched his face and listened to the sounds that meant he was having the most pleasure possible.

Then I masturbated until I was ready, told him to do it, and felt very strong feelings as I came in his arms.

new sex blog blessings

A friend has started a new sex blog, and I'd like to invite you to visit.

http://navelsandnipples.blogspot.com/

I happen to know that this particular friend is a brilliant writer and artist, and I wish the new blog a long, happy life.

transformative and healing rough sex for his birthday

Yesterday it was his birthday. When he got home from work, I made a delicious dinner, he took a shower, and we went to bed. It was cold in our apartment. We cuddled and talked under three blankets, naked and happy.

Then I dove under the covers to suck his dick. It grew from small to large in my mouth. I took my time and enjoyed myself. I’ll fuck you all night, I told him. We had nothing to do until he had to be at work the next morning.

I would pause in my pursuit of going down on him and jack him off quickly, so fast that my hand would be a blur. I could tell he really liked it.

Then I would lower my mouth to his cock again and suck, bobbing my mouth up and down the length of him, licking and lapping where the head meets the shaft on the underside, seeing how far I could get it down my throat, listening to his gasps, hard breathing, whimpers, and moans.

We were in the semi-dark. Only small paper lantern christmas lights lit the bedroom. We were happy and comfortable. I felt very myself.

I took a break and had him touch my tits. I put his hand between my legs and made him rub my clit. He asked if he should get some lubricant, but then his fingers found how wet I was, and he rubbed me with my own wetness.

I was so aroused, and he was too. The way he touched my cunt made me go into a world so hazy--yet I felt alert also, and very conscious of everything about him: his cock pressing against my arm, his warm breath, and faint smell of our favorite soap on his skin.

I dove under the covers to suck his dick again. I fucked him with my mouth. I want you to tell me what to do, I said. Would you do that for me?

Yes, he said.

Could you tell me sort of aggressively? I asked.

Yes, he said.

Suck my cock, he said, as I went down on him fast and hard. Suck it, he said. Suck my dick. You have no idea how I felt when he said this to me. My cunt was buzzing with arousal, and the lust felt so strong, it was like pain.

More aggressively, I whispered.

Suck it! he said. Suck my cock! His voice was steady and commanding. I whimpered with the excitement of it as I gave him what he asked for. (In regular life, I have no interest in being told what to do and in fact would be furious, but this act was accessing some intense psychological desire to feel my husband’s sexual power in blatant way. I didn’t know I wanted this.)

Suck the dick, he said, and I obeyed him, ecstatic, slowing down when necessary so he wouldn’t come. Suck it slow, he said, and I slurped at it, so slowly yet not gentle, very intense and rough somehow, in response to his performed roughness.

Again I came up for air, and he held me and played with my nipples as we caught our breath. What do you want to happen next? I asked.

I want to fuck you, he said.

I belong to you, I said. You can do anything you want with me.

I going to fuck you and make my cock feel good however I like, he said.

That’s what I want you to do, I said. I’m yours.

He went to the bathroom, and I got a condom out of its wrapper and put it on the corner of the bed. I lay there rubbing my clit.

Kneel, I told him, when he came back to bed. I rubbed my clit with my right hand and jacked him off with my left. He touched my tits. Jiggle them, I told him, because I know he likes to see them move like that. Look at my tits, I said, and he moaned.

His cock was large in my hand, so alive and real. It seemed to push at me with an energy of its own. It seemed animal and somehow mysterious, more sacred and magical than usual.

Are you ready for me to fuck you? he asked.

I want it. I’m so horny for you, I said, and I felt like I was admitting it. I was so horny, it was almost embarrassing. I didn’t remember ever feeling so horny in my life.

He got the condom, and when I looked at him near me on the bed, he seemed to glow with a profound attractiveness. You have never looked more beautiful to me, I said. It had never been more evident that he’s my dearest example of god.

He put the condom on his cock and jammed himself inside of me. We were high on the feelings of that penetration. Our sounds were persistent. He fucked me hard, and his face showed the intense emotion he was feeling. He was almost wincing with it, and I was too. I grunted and gave myself over to the sex. Do you want it? he asked. Do you want it?

Yes, I said. Please. Please, please, please give me your cock. I begged him for it as he pounded himself inside of me. He had never been more desirable.

Then he grabbed my wrists and pinned me down on the bed. Our cries intensified. Is this what you wanted? he asked.

Yes, I said. I want it. Please give me your cock.

Take it, he said. Take it! He fucked me aggressively, yet luxuriously, unhurried.

Look at my tits, I said, and his groans became louder as he watched them move rhythmically in response to the force of his body with mine.

We fucked in this way for a long time. It was rough and delicious. We were in a world where only sex existed. I begged for his cock, and he gave it to me. The sex went on and on. What a birthday—this was before cake.

Between gasps he told me he might come. We paused.

Do you want me to turn over? I asked.

He said yes, and I went on all fours. He fucked me harder than ever. His cock was so deep in me, and ramming me with such force. We were crying out, and he said, I’m going to come, as his cries got loud and he found the highest point of pleasure, and his release. I felt so much empathy that I was making sounds like his, as if I were coming too.

We lay down together then, and I rubbed my clit as he told me sweet things about what we had just done. He touched my breasts, and my feelings were becoming more strong and powerful. You do it, I said, and he took over rubbing my cunt.

I knew I couldn’t keep from screaming, so I grabbed the nearest pillow and pressed it to my mouth, listening to the muffled yells and then muffles screams as my body was not quite my own but completely overtaken by the most powerful waves of pleasure I have ever felt. Everything was a blur of fiery feeling.

Slowly I regained everyday consciousness. We held eachother, and I couldn’t stop stroking his shoulders and neck. I asked him if everything we’d done had been okay. Something had felt unsafe, how animal I’d felt, and I needed reassurance that I hadn’t done anything wrong. He was very kind to me and told me how everything that had happened was good and in fact just what he wanted.

I felt safe to tell him, That was the best sex of my life. That’s the fuck I’ve been waiting for my entire life, and I felt that our seven years together had been preparing us for this particular evening. We could never have had such an honest, present experience without everything we had been through already, knowing one another so well, and all the hundreds of times we had had sex previously.

He agreed. And I told him, I feel like a new person now. I felt like I had started a new life.

orally fixated

Lately I have been orally fixated and going down on him a lot. We have a way in bed where I'm going down on him upsidedown, like 69, but instead of him going down on me, he's rubbing my cunt with his hands, my clit specifically. I like having his dick in my mouth upsidedown for a change.

We were doing it in this way Tuesday evening, and the way he went at my clit was just admirable, valliant--and very effective. I sucked his cock and licked the ridge, and pounded him into my throat. I imagined him coming, shooting all his semen down my throat, imagined the sounds he would make, until I was whimpering and making impulsive, quick motions with my hips, and my cries were muffled by his cock in my mouth. I came and sucked, hoping he would come at the same time, half-crazy with the intensity, but he didn't come. I continued to suck good-naturedly as he kept rubbing for a long time, and I calmed down.

Then he beat off on my tits, and I grabbed his cock for the finish. He's beautiful.

On Wednesday night, I got my wish--this time, instead of going down on him in a standard sort of way, I was rubbing his cock with my tongue, lapping at it, where the head meets the shaft, and then with my right hand, rubbing the other side quickly. He lost it. I listened to his groans as he came, tasted the semen, empathized with his ecstacy as the semen flowed over my tongue, lips, and chin.

Last night I was in the mood for something different and decided there had to be a way to use the knealing chair to our advantage. So we went to the livingroom, and I folded myself over it so he could fuck me standing, and it felt lovely, but I knew his leg-muscles couldn't take much of it, because the height wasn't perfect.

Then he sat on the knealing chair, and I went down on him. I slurped and bobbed my mouth up and down his cock quickly. Then I tried to climb on, but again the height wasn't right. Perseverently, I turned around and fucked him that way. It was a variation on a standard porn position, like reverse cowgirl, only knealing chairs aren't standard--I was bent in half, with my hands on the floor for support, my legs spread, my cunt riding his cock as he, delighted, just sat there moaning.

I liked the angle. I liked being in control. I liked to feel the strength of my arms and legs as I supported myself in this bent-double way. I liked the way he was vulnerable and helpless, motionless, moaning in happiness.

I'm going to come, he said, as I sped up.

Good, I said, and I listened to the cries he made and intensified my fucking as he went over the edge for me.

I continued to fuck him for a long time, his hand to the condom, and then we went to bed, where it felt so intimate and safe after the more public space of the livingroom. I masturbated as he fucked me with the blue vibrator and sucked my left nipple.

I love the moment when I know coming is inevitable. I relax somehow--I know it will happen, and it's just a matter of how, how long I can hold it off, if I want to, and curiousity about how it will feel, how strong it will be today.

At the moment I did come, my legs involunterily flew open a bit wider, my back arched, my head thrashed--it was in my entire body, intense and one more reason to live.

more porn

I value the reminder my friend Shelley provides me, that porn can become an obsession, and how unreal depictions can shift what turns a person on to something impossible in real life. How porn can train a person to unrealistic expectations. How porn can isolate. And how porn can ratchet up what it takes for someone to get off.

Toward the end of my first marriage, I turned to porn a lot for comfort, and it wasn't good porn either. I was lonely and miserable at the time.

I don't think I'm in danger of using porn in an unhealthy way nowadays because I'm careful to pay attention to the way I feel. I use porn only in a way that makes me feel happy. Also, if I feel I'm over doing it, I take a break.

There's nothing like real life, and the vast majority of what's important to me can be found only in real life. Love, for example. Smell--the smell of my husband's neck, his balls, his hair. It makes me horny to be listened to, intimate conversations, vulnerability, being close friends for a long time. Long hugs and holding hands. How it feels to be liked. Eye contact, having my hair touched. Porn gives me nothing of this.

But it's good to be reminded that porn is powerful, and I should be careful, so thank you for thinking of my well-being.