"Married for nearly 15 years and you haven't changed a bit!"
I smiled at what was intended as a compliment. Dave was an old high school sweetheart that was trying to score points. I married the summer after I graduated from High School. Dave was one of a few who were left disappointed that they did not get a chance at me, with me, in me. I knew that. But, of course, High School reunions are the place for reminiscing.
In between the burst of his compliment and my polite, humble smile, there was that moment many women like me understand. We work hard to stay in shape, to take care of the God-given curves we are blessed with. As Dave's eyes eagerly affirmed the fruit of my labors, I felt that inner conflict of being both affirmed and objectified.
"Thanks, Dave. You look great yourself." That was it. I don't really remember much of what we said after that.
Hours later, back at the hotel, as my sweet hubby pawed at my naked body as if he had never fondled me ever before in his life, I knew he had enjoyed the night's visions as well. There were plenty of my former classmates who were eager to show off more than a mid-thirties lady should. At least in my opinion.
But as my husband fondled and suckled on my breasts; even though we were in a hotel where the sex can be much hotter; even though I had been the target of many complimentary eyes that evening; even though my husband was more horny than any of those former classmates were back in our High School days; Dave's comment was like a loud ringing in my ears that I could not shake.
"Married for nearly 15 years and you haven't changed a bit!"
As I leaned back on the mattress, I spread my legs almost mindlessly, in line with what had unfolded countless times before. I knew, as he sucked my nipples, what was coming next. One kiss lower, then another. Sometimes five, other times four or six, but always in that range. Migrating lower.
I laid there staring up at the ceiling, Dave's words echoing in my mind, as I almost moved my lips silently in sync with my hubby as he moaned, "Oh baby, your pussy tastes so good."
Tonight it had only taken four kisses before I felt the heat of his soft tongue slither between my folds. After a few more licks and some well-experienced talents of suction on my labia, I responded with a moan and sigh - as if on cue.
It was time to slowly lift my hips upward ... feel his tongue worm deeper inside of me ... then back down ... three-four-five kisses on my clit... then as he slithered back down ... I lifted my hips upward ... his tongue worming deeper ... then down ... kisses on my clit ... then lower ... hips up ... tongue deeper.
It always felt good to cum. This night was no different.
Then of course, he rolled me over. It was as if we had practiced the routine so many times that we could perform with Olympics-like precision.
Flat on my tummy ...
Hubby straddling me ... spreading my legs further apart ...
That predictable pronouncement that I was about to feel him enter me as he moaned, "Oh fuck, baby" ...
The pounding ...
Wave after wave of "Oh fuck, baby" ...
