She Lets Go

She has no idea how desirable she is. How incredibly, deliciously desirable she is. She's every guy's fantasy and nightmare combined.

From time to time, I only get glances of her body and her wonderland of pleasure. She's a petite 5'2"ish, 115 pound frame, EXACTLY like I like them. Perky, hand-filling breasts. Firm, responsive nipples. Round, soft buttocks. Silky skin. And a knockout face with a sweet smile.

She thinks she picked me, but truth is I couldn't help it. I was drawn to her gorgeous gaze and charming, disarming demeanor. From the very first smile I could tell her sensuality was fighting its way out.

Her sensibility and insecurity fought well. It took 14 years and two kids for her true eroticism to begin awakening. And awaken she did.

Occasionally I would get glimpses into her eroticism. Like the first time I flicked my tongue over her responsive clit. She initially resisted the idea of oral pleasure. Her legs stiff, straight and rigid like the bulge in my pants. But all it took was the wave of pleasure to rush over her then she opened up her legs, giving my eager mouth access to her tasty sex.

Or when I slipped my finger into her dripping wetness while we sat on a beach trip (before kids). A few thrilling moments of that and she was butter, melting in my hands, moaning in public, gushing onto my hand. We raced back to the hotel room for a body-slamming fuck on the corner of the bed.

Another early relationship moment confirmed my suspicion. We had broken up and were getting back together. On the phone, we had a conversation about getting tattoos and the thought of her sweet ass bent over pulled my earnest hands deep in my pants for relief while we talked. I knew I was missing her and she was missing me.

On the way down to her house I fantasied about pounding her soaking-wet pussy with a big dildo, which I never done before with anyone. I resisted the urge to stop at the sleazy adult store, but my thumping heart and throbbing crotch overrode my grey matter. I came out with a pink 8" dildo and hid it under the front seat of my car.

After she got in, we had been kissing and talking. Our arousal levels were sky high with anticipation. As I drove, I told her to look under the seat, and she saw it. I wasn't quite sure how she would react, but I knew we needed to try it. Her reaction was so mind-blowingly sexy. While I drove my car, she drove me crazy. She lifted her luscious hips, squirmed her panties off, spread her legs--giving me full view--and slowly filled her beautiful pussy with our new friend. I nearly creamed my pants. When she pulled it out, it glistened with her juices. I wanted to pull over and fuck her brains out but I was too nervous and my car was too small to enjoy her sensuality and give her the erotic attention her hot body was squirming and screaming for.

We went back to my room, and we passionately pleasured each other for a couple of hours. She straddled my face and took my dick in her steamy mouth.

I made love to her creamy crotch with my mouth and pummeled her velvet vagina with the dildo until she violently cam again and again, squirting over and over onto the tube-filling toy. She moaned on me, muffling her orgasms and slurping on me. She sounded, tasted and felt like nothing I'd ever experienced.

From that moment on I knew I had a sensual, smoking hot, orgasmic woman on my hands.

Her eroticism couldn't hide from my determination. I was Indiana Jones and her, that unrestrained powerhouse of a secret sexy wife, was my hidden treasure. All mine. Mine for the taking, from our soft, slow and throbbing love-making memories to our rip-our-clothes-off, full-face pussy sucking and body-slapping fuck sessions. (Oh gosh, I'm about to cum just writing this). She was mine for pleasuring.

When she surrenders to her eroticism, she becomes a more incredibly beautiful, desirable and sensual lover. And she has no idea. That's the dichotomy. Innocent and lovely, all the while teasing and tempting. Her subtle day-to-day sexiness hides this erotic superpower persona.

Now, if she ever knew the true power she held over me, how her hot sex vixen side dominates my thoughts, then all my manly veneer would be dissolve like honey in steaming water fresh from the stove.

I've always been a lover who revels in the pleasure of my woman, mentally capturing her curves, her subtle moves, her accompanying moans. The texture of my wife's vagina is unforgettable. Smooth during penetration, becoming vise-like when she cums. And she cums often, generously and hard. Her pussy is beautiful. Inviting my gaze. The lips are perfect; they are tender and sticky, clinging to my tongue when I am allowed to linger there. And linger there I do. It's my favorite place to be. There making love to my wife with my face buried in her luscious flower. Usually I only stop upon her horny insistence and seductive invitation to enter her.

When she's dripping wet, rolls over crawls on all fours and motions for me to penetrate her, my heart skips several beats.

She's irresistible, sexy, sensual and perfect. I crave her orgasmic moans more every day. I could continue to describe the erotic way she arcs her back as I fill her from behind, the gasps she makes as I rub her clitoris until she comes on me again, how she reacts when I pull firmly on her aroused nipples or the look of desire as she mounts my cock. I love the look in her eyes when her lust takes total control. She is extremely sexy and spectacular. A sight I long to see, her lips I crave to taste, her orgasm I desire to devour.

There are many more memories to cherish and write about. She has recently become more forward and generous with her sex, and I can tell there is a growing awareness of her erotic sensuality and the immense pleasure it brings to us both.

A new toy is in the mail. New erotic memories are in the making. New fantasies need exploration. New levels of pleasure are on the horizon. The real limitation is her imagination.