Disclosures: the Iss of Intimacy

By Lacy

My husband hates cunnilingus. He'll do it if I beg, but he just doesn't have a taste for it (sorry; I just had to toss in the pun). Even if I offered to suck his cock for twice the time he works on my clit, he just doesn't want to do it.

I used to press him about why he didn't like it. Once he complained, "You have a strong scent down there that I just can't handle." That's the wrong thing to tell any women. We didn't speak for a week, and I made things worse went I retorted, "I've had lots of guys tell me they loved the flavor of my pussy." Still, the make-up sex didn't include him going down on me.

I don't want this to sound as if he isn't a good husband or that our sex life is bad. He's a great guy and in most other ways a terrific lover. However, the one thing that really gets me off, is to have a tongue stoking my clitoris and stimulating the lips of my labia. There's something about another person's face being between my legs and feeling a flexible tongue flicking my sensitive equipment and a pair of lips giving me the most intimate of kisses that brings me the best orgasms.

I've talked to many other women about it (we bring it up more than most men would suspect), and we are all fans of the practice. Several have told me they really prefer it to intercourse. I've actually fantasized about being eaten when my husband, Palmer, is fucking me.

Just one more complaint before I get on with the rest of my story. If Palmer is reluctant to lick my puss before sex, he absolutely would never consider it after. "It's too messy down there," he'd grumble, even though he caused that mess and left me without completely getting off.

Post-coitus is the best time to get a woman off with a little tongue dance over the clit. I had a boyfriend back in college that loved eating after intercourse. Those are still some of the best O-faces I ever produced. Too bad Rich was such an asshole otherwise. Sometimes I think great lovers and decent guys are mutually exclusive.

Which brings me to how I solved my need for oral stimulation. About six years into my marriage, I decided, that if Palmer wasn't interested in rocking the little man in the boat, I'd find a man that was. I wouldn't care if he was a jerk or not. I just wanted someone with a vigorous tongue and capable lips.

Logistically, finding a place for my trysts wasn't all that hard. Palmer and I own several furnished rental apartments as a side business and there's always one or two unoccupied.

The challenging part was finding a partner. I work in an office and asking around would be about the same as standing on the desk in my cubicle and shouting over the wall, "Do any men here want to lick my pussy? I'll trade head for being eaten." Given the rumor mill going where I work, word I was looking for extracurricular sex would get out nearly as fast.

I'm somewhat ashamed to admit it, but I chose to resort to the Internet for my first contact. I knew I'd need to sort through lots of replies when I put the ad up that had the heading: "Woman Wants Oral" but I had no idea what I was in for. In the ad, I knew I'd have to offer a reciprocal blowjob to entice a pussy eater, but I made it emphatically clear oral was as far as things went.

Within an hour of posting my ad, I'd received over a hundred replies. The ones without pictures attached immediately went unopened into the trash bin. A few dozen had just pictures of cocks. Since I'd insisted on face shots, and most men have smart phones these days capable of taking selfies, those who couldn't abide by my simple request joined the others in the trash bin. If a woman is asking for pussy licking, wouldn't it make more sense to at least send a picture of the tongue?

I whittled it to three likely candidates who did send face shots and e-mailed back to them. I figured one of them would come across a normal and not be a scammer. To my surprise, all three seemed initially acceptable. Two admitted to being married; the other was single and in college. All three were enthusiastic adherents of oral sex in both directions, which presented a conundrum making a final choice. However, when I thought about it; I wasn't looking for love or a relationship, and they understood exactly what I wanted, why not try all three separately?

I arranged my first meeting with one of the married men. Michael and I met at a coffee shop that afternoon. He introduced himself and I shook his hand and replied, "Hi; I'm Lacy."

He seemed almost as nervous as I was, which made things easier. I was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a plain red T-shirt. I have light brown hair that I'd tied back into a ponytail. I'll admit it, because if we did get down for oral, it made things less complicated not to have my hair getting in the way. I believe that may be why women invented the pony tail. (The next time you see a woman with her hair tied back, consider that she may be subliminally asking for oral sex).

We bantered with the usual talk of two people meeting for the first time, then Michael said, "Forgive me for being blunt, but why the interest in cunnilingus with a stranger? You're a very attractive woman; I'd think your husband would be begging to please you."

"Thank you for being open about it," I replied. I was relieved one of us had the guts to proceed to the reason we were here to the forefront. "My husband doesn't care for it and it's something I love. He's great on everything else, but I just can't get him to do it for me. "

He nodded his understanding. He was a nice-looking man, that I estimated to be about ten years older, but he was in decent shape and most importantly seemed normal. I tossed it back to him, "Why, besides being a male, are you looking to have just oral sex with a strange woman?" I nervously corrected my last question. "A woman who is a stranger. I'm not strange, you just don't know me."

Michael chuckled at my obvious jumpiness, and I joined him in the humor of the situation. I felt compatibility with him and decided he'd be acceptable.

"My wife, stopped being interested in sex, oral and otherwise, a few years ago. I still love her and we had children together, but I do like sex," he said. "I haven't done this before, which I'm sure you may find hard to believe, but when I saw your ad, I thought this wouldn't really be cheating."

I looked at his face. He appeared to be shooting straight with me. "Didn't we once have a President who got into big trouble thinking the same thing?" We both had a good laugh, then I gave him directions to the apartment two blocks away.

Ten minutes later we each pulled up outside apartment #348, and I unlocked the door. Palmer was more than happy to have me show the unit to a potential tenant, since he hated that part of the business. I thought as we walked inside, this was a perfect way to meet with future cunt lickers. Eventually, Palmer might wonder why it took so many viewings to rent the unit, but for now this would work nicely.

Michael moved closer and looked as if he was about to kiss me, but could tell from the look on my face, it wasn't desired. "Sorry, I'm used to starting off that way. It's fine if you want to just get down to business."

We walked to the master bedroom. My shoes and pants came off, and I stood before him in my panties and tee. I debated if I should remove the shirt and my bra. I hadn't planned out that much of the detail. I kept them on, but did give him a hug, just before I sat on the bed and removed my panties.

I'd shaved my puss that morning. It looked fresh and glistened from the rub of baby oil I'd applied earlier.

"Do you mind if I take off my pants now?" It seemed weird to have him ask, but the entire scenario seemed a bit off.

"Why don't you get naked? I'm being too formal." I chided myself for being too mechanical and removed my top. It worked, his cock sprung to attention, and I began to experience a trickle of juice in my vagina. I spread my legs and he sat on the floor in front of me and buried his head between my legs. Here we go; I thought, as if I were going on a roller-coaster ride.

In a way, roller coaster was an apt metaphor. No sooner had his tongue waltzed over my clit that I felt a thrill of excitement rush through my loins. I grabbed his head and held on as he worked me. His tongue became an active explorer of my crotch and where wasn't anywhere it seemed afraid to venture. I began to bite my lower lips as waves of the sweet sensation enveloped me. I came in a rush of frenzied of delight I hadn't known in years, and I cried out with an abandon that I shouldn't have expressed to a stranger, but at that moment, I didn't care. I just wanted to enjoy that moment of pure pleasure, for as long as I could.

He continued to kiss my nether lips as I begrudgingly regained my senses. "On my fucking god, that was fantastic. Thank you."

He pulled away from by legs, his mouth covered in my nectars and said, "I can tell you enjoyed yourself." I caught my breath and was grateful he allowed me the time to recover.

I owed him big time for getting me off so well. I moved him onto the bed and removed my bra in front of him. Even though I was apprehensive about doing it, I allowed him to caress my breast. While they are just an average size, they are nearly perfectly formed and oh so very supple. His erection seemed to throb as he handled them and squeezed playfully at my nipples.

I sat cross-legged on the floor and worked his cock into my mouth. He had an average-sized penis, about the same size as Palmer's, but had a different taste and texture. I worked it slowly into my mouth and applied my tongue to stimulate the head. I wished I'd had the same dexterity as Michael's mouth; the man was a true artist his wife just doesn't appreciate.

I worked his testicles gently and listened as his moans increased. Soon he erupted in my mouth and another issue I hadn't considered demanded an immediate decision. I decided to swallow his spunk and managed to get the glop down in two deep gulps.

We dressed and at the door, he said, "Thank you, Lacy. I really enjoyed this. I hope we can do this again, soon."

We shook hands and he returned to his car, while I make a sweep of the apartment to make sure no incriminated evidence was left behind. It felt odd not to kiss someone I'd been so intimate with minutes before, but I somehow rationalized I wasn't being completely disloyal to my husband since it was just oral sex. He never wanted it anyway, so where was the harm?

A day later, I had another appointment to show the vacant apartment to Gregg. I was more excited than on the previous day. Gregg was black and when I was single, I'd dated a black guy, and the sex was always exciting. I sat pondering what getting some dark meat again would be like until Gregg entered the door. He looked exactly like his photo, and he appeared to have an ease about the situation, but not so much that he came across as a player.

This time I'd dressed in a short skirt and a pair of high-heeled strappy sandals. Gregg was a tall man and mentioned that he turned on by long slinky legs. Palmer wondered why I went to all the trouble to change my toenail polish to a bright red, but I explained it away as the latest fashion trend for the summer.

Gregg smiled and ran his eyes up and down my legs when I stood to shake his hand. From the look on his face I imagined he'd have been willing to lick my snatch right on the spot. Our conversation didn't last long; we were both too engrossed in getting down to our oral agreement.

By the time we enter #348, I was beginning to soak my panties under my little denim skirt. I directed him to the bedroom, and he pulled off my miniskirt. I kept my panties on, for the moment, and still worn my high-heels, but immediately lost my top to expose my braless tits. Since I'd allowed Michael to handle them the day before, I thought it only fair to allow Gregg to same opportunity. I'm light-skinned and his dark hands wandering over my boobs nearly pushed me over the edge of organism right there.

I reclined on the bed and moved my legs to allow him to get rid of my panties. Instead, he buried his face into the fabric, and I felt him gently nibble me. I came with a loud, uncontrolled scream and lay panting.

"Think you can go for another?" he asked, just before he pulled my underwear down over my shoes.

"You can do that?"

"My tongue can go all day," he said with a beaming grin.

I readied myself, and he dove into my dribble muff. I should have been embarrassed by the amount of juice I'd produced, but I got no complaints. He worked me with an astonishing arsenal of techniques I'd only read about in certain women's magazines, that I considered to be pure fiction. Perhaps he was the author of those articles. I was already too absorbed in the revelry taking place between my loins; I wasn't able to ask.

I came once more in one of the most intense climaxes I've ever experienced and let him know that when I moaned loudly. He thankfully showed me no mercy when he continued on and took me to another less commanding, yet no less satisfying, plateau.

Even winded and with my head still spinning, I wanted to give back to him what I could in mouth to cock pleasure. His penis was the largest I'd ever encountered, and I struggle to fit it into my smaller mouth. He pushed my head down on it and more of his giant cock went down my throat that I thought I could handle, but I got it down my throat and used my oral skills to pleasure that monster.

He shot down my throat in two penetrating blasts, and for added measure hit me with a third wave of ejaculation. I coughed down what I could, but some semen dribbled from the corners of my mouth and landed on my boobs. He watched and grinned while I massaged his jizz over my breast.

He left soon after, and I promised he'd be allowed back to demonstrate more of his oral skills I had yet experienced. I returned to the bedroom and lay prostrate on the mattress for at least twenty minutes recovering from the assault my pussy and oral cavity had enjoyed that afternoon. I woke to the feel of my own hand rubbing my clit and I brought myself to another mild climax before I dressed and returned home to my clueless husband.

"Any luck in renting the unit?" he asked as I walked in the door.

"He was definitely interested, but wants to come back later for another look," I replied.

That night, I had sex with Palmer in his preferred missionary position and another incredible orgasm. I extolled his ability to bring me off, and he seemed so pleased with his prowess. If anything, I rationalized, getting outside cunnilingus had vastly improved our sex life.

Two days later, I met my third candidate, Derek, at my now usual coffee shop. He was an athletic young man, who wore a college soccer jersey. I actually made him show me his ID to prove he was over the age of 20. I dressed older that someone twenty-nine years would normally would have, but he seemed intrigued by the idea of getting off a MILF and I'd decided it would be an exciting role-playing game. I imagine the nine years difference between us would seem considerable to him, but I wanted him to feel as if I were a true cradle robber.

This time I wore a knee length skirt, black pumps, seamed nylons, a pair of wire-rim glasses that I don't need and my hair in a tight bun. As we conversed, I crossed and uncrossed my legs several times and watched as he looked on longingly at my gams through the narrow slit in my skirt.

"I take it you've never managed to fuck one of your instructors at college, have you, Derek?"

"No, but I've failed a few examines from being so distracted wondering what's under Ms. Hodgkiss' tight blouse," he said in a half playful tone, that told me it came from a true story.

I leaned to get my coffee and provided a full view of my cleavage under my stark white half-unbuttoned linen blouse and white full bra. "Perhaps they look like these, Derek. You need to concentrate on what's important." I took a sip from the cup and left a red lipstick mark on the outer rim. He licked his lips as he stared at the stain.

"So what should I concentrate on Ma'am?"

"It's all in how you can provide pleasure to Ms. Hodgkiss' hungry pussy. You may need special tutoring on how to do that."

We met for a special teaching session at #348. The bedroom served as our study hall. I removed only my skirt and panties. My stockings we held up by garters and I kept my top and heels on. "You have eaten pussy before, haven't you, Derek?"

"Yes, Ma'am, but those were just sorority girls. They don't appreciate a good cunt lick."

I held a ruler in my right hand and slapped his bare ass with it. "You shouldn't use the word cunt in front of a woman, Derek. It's disrespectful. Pussy or vagina is acceptable. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now start licking my cunt and make me cum."

"But you just say not to use that word."

I gave his ass another smack with the ruler. "I said, you shouldn't use it." Women use the word all the time, but when it's said by a man, it's an insult; I instructed him.

Derek worked on my pussy, and I could tell he had limited experience, but in his favor, lots of eagerness to learn. I called out instructions. "Now roll the tip of your tongue over my clitoris. In nice gentle flicks and circle, the lips of my vulva. Yes, that's good, but maintain continuous strokes."

He made a few mistakes, but brought me to a decent climax. I pushed his face into my pussy. "I'm coming. Kiss me down there and use your lips. Oh, yeah, you're learning. Kiss it, kiss it, you little fucker."

After I opened my eyes, I looked down to find that Derek had come without being touched. Perhaps a good teacher would have been sympathetic, but I'm completely uncertified, so I said, "Wouldn't Ms. Hodgkiss be highly disappointed if you came before she had a chance to examine your stiff member in her slutty mouth?"

"Yes, ma'am. She'd flunk me."

"Well, I'm not going to fail you, but you need to be taught a lesson."

My student was placed across my knee and received six good solid whacks with the ruler. I had him stand in the corner and rub the red marks on his butt while I finished dressing.

"You'll require further instruction," I said as he left. He promised to study hard for our next session. Overall, I'd have to give him a C+, by have hopes he can improve his grades.

Since then, I've seen those three men on a fairly regular basis. Each one excited me for a different reason, and I love the variety.

Just this week I received an e-mail from Gregg. He said that he'd told a couple friends, and they'd like to join us for an extended oral orgy. I wondered if I'd be able to stand that much stimulation. Of course, I'll give it a try. My oral needs are now being taken care of nicely.

Palmer could be happier. I've stopped asking him to perform cunnilingus, and he's never seen me so excited by his usual missionary work. It's as if the foreplay has already been done for him. I'm always ready to go whenever he wants a regular fuck. He has no idea why, but he's convinced himself; he's improved dramatically as my lover.

I realize that what I've been doing is a form of cheating, but don't feel all that guilty. I've never had intercourse with another man since I've been married, and my needs are met. My advice to husbands is that if you don't want your wife going elsewhere for satisfaction, you should seriously consider kissing something other than her mouth.

The End