"Are you sure?" she whispered again in my ear. The room was dimming as the afternoon sun began it's early winter retreat. Her curly hair brushed softly against my freshly shaven head.
"Yes," I demanded as we laid next to each other, fresh from our post-yoga shower. Though the house hadn't warmed up yet, the heat under the covers were all we needed, except for her knee-high socks to keep her toes warm. We were not ready to get dressed just yet.
"I need you to say it," she whispered with one hand holding her head and her other hand politely gripping my hardening dick. My hands were occupied as well, one in her hair and the other at the small of her back. I traced circles in both as I pretended each were something else.
"We talked about it in the car home and in the shower. You think I'm backing out now that you've got my dick in your hand," I stated matter-of-factly as my voice echoed from her shoulder to her neck.
"I just need you to say it now," she warmly responded as she began stroking my dick the way I was stroking her hair. Our rhythm was always nice, but today there was something easy in the air. A sense of calm that greets excitement.
We lay caressing each other for a few minutes while we listened to the fireplace crackle. The room was warming.
"Boo, I want you to gently place your fingers in my ass while you suck my dick," I finally whispered. You could feel her thighs tremble with each syllable. She melted at the words.
I don't think it was for power, though that may have been part of it. She simply wanted to be certain this wasn't her idea that I was being dragged into. She wanted to know that I wanted her to do it. That was very important. Saying the words out loud was a commitment.
And this was quite a commitment. We'd joked about it for several years, but she would always steer clear when things got too close. She would also tease me about fucking her in the ass, but we knew she wasn't ready for it. I'd sometimes joke before our Friday yoga class that those tights made me want to discover something new in her LuLuLemon.
Today was different because I unintentionally let her know it didn't need to be mutual.
Our yoga instructor often heard our mature conversations and would playfully hush us. "Get a room, not a mat," she'd toss in the air as I smirked at my wife's downward dog.
"Does your wife know you are constantly eyeing her?" she joked as we all prepared for class.
"She likes the attention," I replied as I placed my mat directly behind my wife's. She smiled but never acknowledged the conversation.
"But she's not eyeing you like you're some piece of meat," our instructor responded trying to cause a stir.
"Satisfaction is not a sport of equality. Just because I'm doing it doesn't mean she's got to," I replied as I began to stretch. "And you may want to check your glass house, Ms. Pot," I finished as she laughed looking through the studio windows. She had recently started dating the swim instructor who just happened to walk by at that moment - though the pool was clear on the other side of the gym. Now that she had a steady beau in her life our classes were more intense and more relaxed at the same time. She hungrily stared as her man strolled by.
"Touché," was her only response. Well, that and the brutal class we endured next.
Then it started in the car.
"So not all lust is created equal," my wife lobs out of nowhere. She was busy merging onto the highway, so I wasn't even sure she was speaking to me at that moment.
"I'm sorry," I replied.
"You can do things I'm not that into and vice-versa?" she thoughtfully vocalized as though a bigger picture had been painted already.
"Are you talking about me staring at you in those yoga pants?" I nervously chuckled, knowing I needed to peel each layer slowly.
"Like you don't stare at me when I'm on death's bed with the flu," she pounced back. "What I'm asking is if it would be okay for me to do things without you having to do it, too," she offered this carefully prepared statement. She may not have finished law school, but her word manipulation was no joke.
"Example?" I offered to buy my mind some time.
"Umm, well," she began as though this conversation was totally from the hip. "What if I wanted to kiss a complete stranger, but I didn't want you to do the same. Would you be okay with that?" Her words hung in the air waiting for my response. I needed to calculate an answer that she wasn't prepared for.
"Can I watch you?" I smiled as she accidentally changed lanes to everyone's surprise.
"Sure, whatever. But you can't kiss a stranger, too," she stated as though it was a question.
I know this wasn't about kissing some stranger. I was clueless as to where this was going but I was completely intrigued. After 6 years of marriage, every new twist is a welcome distraction. "I guess we can always discuss boundaries," I offered. "But I can see how you might be happily interested in kissing a stranger while equally repulsed by me kissing Salana Lathan," I added knowing she knows my not-so-secret attraction for the film star. "Technically a stranger."
"Sure," let me know we weren't at the end of the verbal contract. "So, you know how you joke about, well," she paused. She checked her mirrors and headed for the slow lane 2 exits before our house. I braced myself. She took a deep breath.
"Fucking me in the ass?" she said with both of our eyes focused on the road.
"Well," I smiled thinking about all of her trash talk about wanting me to go 'there' but nothing but protest anytime we actually approached that path. "I guess I'm okay if you don't fuck me in my ass," I started but quickly understood my misinterpretation as the words fully exited my mouth. She knew I would be okay if things went in that direction. She had something else in mind.
"You want to fuck ME in MY ass?" I realized aloud. Then the thought of her harnessed with a dildo yipeekieyeahing my ass had me frozen. I'd do anything for my wife, but this was a big leap.
"Actually, just a couple of fingers," she softened her voice, knowing her real proposition would be far less extreme than whatever I was thinking. "A blowjob and heavy lube, wouldya say?" she nervously giggled as she gave her pitch.
I was still relaxing my sphincter from the vision of her going 10 inches into me from any angle. As much as it never occurred to me that my wife would want to place something in my ass, I fully understood that people around the world were casually doing this for pleasure every day. If a couple of fingers in my ass would get my wife off, why not. But before I could say a word she began to explain herself.
"See, I suck your dick because I like doing it. Honestly, it gets me hot. But I let you come in my mouth because I love how it makes you feel," she said as she squeezed the steering while tightly. "So I keep looking for ways improve my, let's just say, skills."
Now I was totally engulfed in her explanation. She could have driven for another 10 exits and I would not have noticed. Fortunately she found our exit and waited at the light.
"We've tried almost all of the ways to make those blowjobs . . . better," she offered knowing that I'd never complained about anything other than wanting more. "Mints, ice, heat, diet, whatever. But the one thing I keep wanting to do every time I see your face writhing in ecstasy is to wiggle these babies in your ass," she said as she raised her index and middle finger above the steering wheel.
