Sofa so Good

My wife and I are in our late 50s and live in a suburban community on the east coast. The kids are grown, and gone. So we have the good fortune to be able to have sex any time we choose.

But even with the house to ourselves, life and work still get in the way. So we don't get together as often as we might like.

Some nights we try to finish up our evening early and meet in bed for a standard roll in the sheets. But at other times we deconstruct the experience, offering each other reciprocal oral. It's nice to just be able to focus on receiving pleasure every now and then. Not to mention watching the other person receive the same experience a few minutes later.

Tonight, my wife, whom we'll call "S," gets to go first. We'd chosen the living room to listen to some music and focus on her. I put on a playlist of boozy, hazy music (Lana del Rey and the like) and we snuggled up together on the sofa.

S had her head in my lap as one song faded into another. She was lying on her left side, which gave me access to the right side of her head and body. She loves to have her hair and skin stroked. Nothing gets her motor running more than an extended session of physical touch.

As the songs came and went, I stroked her hair, her face, her shoulder and the swell of her breast. Eventually, I started sliding my hand down to the curve of her ass. She was wearing a thin, cotton nightshirt, with nothing underneath. And while her breast felt amazing in my hand through the soft material, her ass feels even better, being skin-on-skin.

I'm pretty sure she'd let me do this to her all night. But directly, her body begins to display telltale signs of arousal. Mostly, this involves small, almost involuntary squirms. I've no way to know for sure, but I suspect she likes to experience the growing wetness between her legs.

When she ratchets up the squirms and starts to arch her back, that's my sign that other parts of her body now require attention. I ease her up, coax her onto her back, and slide up to her. I settle in between her thighs, and inhale her scent.

I make my tongue as broad, soft, and wet as I can, and completely cover her sex with it. Neither one of us moves for a minute. Then, I slowly pull my tongue upward, enjoying the first long stroke of her delicious pussy.

She responds, sinking into her own body, and I begin to play with her folds while massaging her clitoris with varying strokes of my tongue. She used to remain quiet while receiving oral. But lately, she's been more exploring her vocal side. This, of course, makes me very happy. After a while in this rhythm, I slide a finger inside as I continue exploring her. This combination eventually starts to bring her closer to the edge.

But we don't finish yet. Because that's a job for our friend Mike.

Magic Mike is a large, microphone-shaped, Panasonic Magic Wand vibrator. He has one job, and he is very good at it.

The powerful machine starts its insistent buzz, in a pattern of S's choosing. Immediately, she disappears to a place far away. Within a few minutes, she is gripped by a violent, shaking orgasm. The waves keep coming. Soon, she waves me off. But every time she thinks she's finished, Magic Mike has a way of pulling yet another orgasm out of her. It's the best $100 we ever spent.

Eventually she collapses into a whimpering puddle on the couch, her pussy sated.

After a few minutes of lying still and barely appearing to breathe, she rejoins the living with a post-orgasm afterglow on her face and asks, "Now, what would you like?"

I love this version of S: sex-drunk, and with a wanton look on her face that says, "I want something of yours inside something of mine, right now."

But I have other ideas. Because one of my very favorite things is spontaneous, organic oral sex. And given we both already know it's going happen, we'll first need to spend some time not doing anything before we slip back into it. So my preference is to start with some kind of distraction, like listening to

music. Or better yet, watching TV.

We opt for the latter, which necessitates a move to another room.

"What would you like to watch?" she asks.

Whatever you like, I answer. But bonus points, of course, if it's spicy. And if that's the criteria, she knows just the thing. She boots up Netflix and turns on the first season of Bridgerton.

Bridgerton, if you haven't seen it, it period porn for women. It's respectable, because there's plenty of plot as cover. And the show would totally work, even without all of the sex. But suffice to say that S is very happy the sex is featured so liberally.

I've no doubt she has fantasized of being fucked silly by an attentive Simon Basset, AKA Regé-Jean Page. And I'm quite okay with that. If I'm being honest, I would love for her to feel free to explore sexual fantasies. Even better, I'd love for us to explore them together.

Other than the sex scenes, Bridgerton is not necessarily my cup of tea. But whatever gets her going is more than fine by me. And, of course, any time she'd like to watch it with her head in my lap, then it's must-see TV.

My own fantasies often involve consensual switching swaps, or visiting a sex club, or something like that. I'm not sure I could ever actually do it. But in the abstract, there's little that excites me more.

In the early 2000s, Cinemax produced a hard-R series called, "Skin to the Max." It featured footage from sex clubs around the world, with each episode focusing on two stories of people in two different cities with specific fetishes. An episode might feature a Parisian couple who was into exhibitionism, and then another couple trying a bi-curious threesome in Barcelona.

I'd love to have a monthly episode screening session. But that's another story, assuming it ever happens. (If it does, I'll write about it!)

Tonight, S has cues up a well-chosen (and, I suspect, well-worn) episode in Bridgerton's first season. Having just enjoyed a convulsive orgasm, she's already in the right frame of mind. But Simon Basset further works his reliable magic, and S's hand is soon stroking my thigh.

I'm already in the mood as well. But not because of Simon. Rather, because I love to go down on S. I love the taste, and feel, of her pussy on my tongue. I enjoy making her come, and feeling her juices all over my face. It's such a primal experience.

As her hand continues to lightly stroke my thigh, my cock gets impatiently hard. All I can think about is her mouth around me, with that wet, delicious suction.

For many years in our marriage, S wasn't really into oral, and it showed. Over time, that caused me to lose interest as well, as the desire component is a huge part of the experience for me. Fortunately, she's recently started to get more enthused about the idea. At least it seems so from the receiving end. As a result, she is steadily becoming much better at giving head. Now, I often find myself fantasizing about the feel of her mouth on me. Especially when we are watching TV together at night.

Alas, usually she is busy folding clothes, or mending socks, or otherwise occupying herself. She says that just idly watching TV feels like she's wasting time.

But tonight, my cock is the co-watching activity. Soon, her hand finds it and she starts to turn up the intensity. And then all I can think about is being in her mouth.

Eventually, she slides her head down to my lap and starts to nuzzle me with soft, wet lips. I love this almost as much as being inside her mouth. She explores and caresses my head with her tongue, twirling around it like a lollipop. This is when I really start to sense and feel her desire. (Also, why I love getting head from her after she's already come.)

Intercourse is nice. But assuming your partner is into it, there's no substitute for oral sex. There's a kind of connected intimacy you can't replicate. You can easily fake being into intercourse. Not so with oral.

When she finally takes me inside, it feels like my cock is in her mouth because she wants it there. Waves of pleasure and connection course through my body.

She continues sucking me, creating that delicious wet friction. My mind starts to wander. Not about the weather, or anything else unrelated. But rather, just how much I'd love to switch up and fuck her right now. It's always the same dilemma; if only there was a way to experience both sensations at once.

Even though very much on-subject, this is a distraction nonetheless. For me, it's the Catch-22 of oral sex. If it's really good, I feel the overwhelming desire to switch to intercourse. But the TV helps to keep me distracted from the distraction, if that makes any sense.

Directly, she moves from my lap and drops to her knees in front of me. This signals a changing of gears. She licks her hand, then takes my dick into her mouth while simultaneously stroking my shaft with her slippery wet fingers.

I'm in heaven, and soon can feel my orgasm building.

But this brings another dilemma: I want to come in her mouth. But I also want to pull out, take my dick in my hand and come on her tits as she cups them in her hands. She has such beautiful breasts. Always has. And I want to come on them, marking her in the process. Again: primal.

But that's not going to happen this time. Because she's picking up the pace, and I'm nearing the point of no return. Sometimes, when I'm about come in her mouth, I fantasize about coming on her tits while she offers them to me along with deep eye contact. And that combo usually sends me right over the edge.

Between the feeling of her mouth and the finishing-on-her-tits fantasy screening inside my head, I come hard. She takes all of me, swallows, and then quietly waits for my brain to come back online.

I don't know what it is about the TV watching -> thigh rub -> head nuzzle -> blowjob that's so exciting. Is it the structured spontaneity? The slow-burn suspense? The added, voyeuristic layer of watching another couple on the TV?

I'm not sure. All I know is that whenever it happens, all I can think about is, "When can we please do this again?"

And maybe, next time can we do it while virtually visiting a chic sex club in Paris?

(But in that event, we'd definitely have to fuck as well.)