This story will tell you about my wife April's first adventures after our marriage.
First let me tell you that, like many women, she is her own worst critic. She is hyper critical of her own looks, but is also aware of her affect and effect on most men of a certain age. Yes, they notice her, and yes, they want to have her.
She is a very nice package of looks and personality. Curvy, creamy body topped by long blondish hair with auburn highlights. And an engaging personality that relaxes and arouses any man around her for long. Her throaty, titillating laugh at any sexual entendre or risqué humor should be everyone's hint at her erotic potential.
Many might think these to be the subjective exaggerations of a man in love. That may be true. But let me assure you, my friends, of my objective sampling of the worlds' women. I call myself Skip on here because I skipped from woman to woman for a decade or so. Not by design, but by fate, I have had the pleasure of literally hundreds of women. I was a very serious young man and sincerely hoped to be true to one love for my whole life. That romantic dream was dashed and I set upon the sexual adventuring of a broken hearted libertine with a vengeance throughout my prime. Very few women denied me. If they had a cash register for a heart, perhaps they discarded me first. But I am still the secret smile on their lips when they review their own sexual history. I mention my own past simply to assure you of my opinion of April. Of all the women, I have ever known, she is the best. And by far the best in bed.
But her own history is quite different than mine. Yes, she had her youthful flings and post divorce adventures. But for the most part, her life has been one of dedication to marriage, children, and career. Only lately, has she had time enough for lust.
We met and became lovers in our forties and married soon. As time and money pressures have eased, we have explored each other endlessly. Her physical ability to have multiple orgasms, and oral expertise often drain us so completely that, for a day or two, we need to recover. But we still talk about sex, about what we did do, and what we wish we had done. And sometimes speculate about what we might do still.
She has often told me about her friend Franco. He has known her for years, always lusting after her, flirting at work, or taking her to an occasional party or concert. Never getting anywhere with her physically, but to his credit, never giving up hope. When I pressed April on why she never gave in, it was an interesting answer. While he was an appealing guy to most women, tall, attractive, professional and constantly horny, April did not really desire him physically. She enjoyed teasing him and leading him on more than she thought she'd enjoy the actual sex with Franco. She said it was like a cat toying with a mouse. She didn't really want to eat him. When I asked what made him give up, April told me that he never had. "Don't get mad, but he still texts and calls occasionally."
