My Love

My husband wasn't the adventurous type. I wasn't overly so, either, but I was more adventurous than he was. On this particular day, I got home early and I was definitely feeling spicy. I was definitely wanting more than bang, bang, bang, and thank you ma'am.

I took care with my shower - I had showered that morning, but I wanted to be as fresh as possible for when my love arrived home. I shampooed and soaped and put perfume in my hair and in all of the right spots. I even shaved my pits, my legs, and that special area right between my legs. My love didn't care if my pussy was a little wild, but he certainly liked it if I trimmed, or more.

I lit candles and placed them throughout the house - threw the cats downstairs because I didn't want them in the way, spoiling the mood, or worse- knocking a candle over. Didn't want to have to put out a fire in the middle of lighting a fire, if you know what I mean.

I took special care in finding just the right thing to wear. My love liked to undress me, and liked having me strip for him - he liked watching me take off lots of layers of clothes, besides just skimpy underwear. I finally decided on lacy undergarments, with a very faint flowered pattern that you could only see from close up, a silk robe that matched well enough for my purposes. And then, because I was cold - and I wanted him to be surprised - I threw on pajama bottoms and a heavy robe to keep warm in, until he arrived home.

I didn't have long to wait.

My love came home, and half-heartedly he kissed me, before running into the bathroom. Always a turn-on knowing your love needs to use the facility. Ha. He came back and kissed me again before lying on the bed. He had already stripped to his undies, but I knew it was because he was hot and just wanted to be comfortable. He always stripped out of his suit as soon as he came home. I asked him how his day was and he talked for a few minutes, but I could tell his mind wasn't on what he was talking to me about, and he just wanted to be left alone to relax. I had other plans, though.

I fetched him a glass of ice water and asked him if he was hungry. He didn't really answer me. I joined him on the bed and moved just right, so that I got his attention. His eyes were on me, but I couldn't tell if he realized I wanted him or not. I couldn't tell if he was thinking of anything other than a nap, and I normally could read him like a book.

I drank slowly from the glass, and a little bit of water ran down my chin. I always was a sloppy drinker. I leaned over and kissed him, and the water ran off of me, onto him. He smiled at me a little then - still half-heartedly, but he could smell my perfume on me and knew I only wore perfume when we were going out somewhere special, or I wanted a special evening at home. Since we weren't going out...

I drank more water, and sucked on an ice cube. He was watching me carefully now, wondering what I was all about. I kissed him, and slipped him the ice cube. He sucked on it, and slipped it back into my mouth. I took it out gently with my fingers, making a show of it, and ran it on his chest. He shuddered a bit, and said "Ah, that tickles".

I twirled the ice cube around his chest some more, and the ice quickly melted away to nothing. I began to lick the water off of his chest, gently, and he grabbed me and tried to slip his hands under my bathrobe. Since I didn't want him to discover what I was wearing quite yet, I batted his hands away, laughing, and leaned away from his chest. I sat up, then stood up, trembling just a bit. I was beginning to feel the heat between us, and was more than ready to feel him inside of me. Too early though.

I stood up, and shook my hips a little and strutted around the room a bit. I always felt so self-conscious when I tried to strip, but I knew he liked it so I always tried my best for him. It wasn't that I didn't want to strip, and it wasn't quite embarrassment, either... I guess it was my Sunday school upbringing.

I teased my love for a bit, pulling the bathrobe off of me, and putting it back on, sticking my chest out for all it's worth. I may look small, but my breasts are rather large, and almost too big for my frame. You couldn't grab me with only one hand - or at least, I had never found a man that had hands large enough to cup a breast without two. I finally took the bathrobe off all way, and sat back next to him. We kissed deeply, and murmured "I love you" to each other at the same time, before laughing. I got up again, and turned on the radio softly; just loud enough you could hear it, but not distractingly so. I had no idea what was even playing; it was just habit to have it on. When we were dating, we always had the radio on when we made love so our roommates wouldn't hear what was going on. Of course they would know, but... it gave us pretend privacy, at least.

I came back and sat down next to him. We kissed, and held onto each other for a little while. We knew the night was early, we had no other plans, except to love each other. I rubbed my loves' shoulders, and he rubbed mine. He ran his fingers through my hair, and I shook slightly - it was always a turn-on for me, and something he would do in public when he wanted to let me know he was wanting some alone time with me.

I stood up again, and slowly took off the silk robe. His eyes widened when he realized I was wearing lacy undergarments - I think he thought I was naked under the robe. He knew I was wearing them just for him, and I could see his eyes glaze over with that look of longing and wanting all men get when they think about pussy. He reached out for me, but I slipped away from him, shaking my head no. I danced around the room, shaking my body, and dancing to a rhythm only I could hear. I stripped for him, slowly, but left my panties on. I climbed on the bed and he immediately slipped his hands underneath them, and kissed me, pulling me on top of him. I went willing.

Our hands wandered each other's bodies with a passion only true lovers feel. We kissed, and he pulled my bottoms off of me. I twisted so he could slip them off of me all the way. I came back to him, and kissed his chest, licking the length of his sides, and kissed him through his underwear. He moaned, and closed his eyes, and moved his head into the pillow. I slipped my hands underneath his underwear and he lifted his hips up so I could grip his bottom better, and continued to kiss him. After a few minutes, I peeled his underwear off, and I sucked him. He was already hard but sucking him always made him bigger, and stroking him bigger still. Besides, he enjoyed it, and I enjoyed making him enjoy it. I enjoyed being on top, and in control.

I found my silk bathrobe on the floor, and told him to sit up in bed and I tied his hands to the bedpost. It wasn't all that tight, but I had never tied him before and I didn't know how he would react. I climbed back on top of him, and I slipped him inside of. I sat on top of him that way for a few minutes, not moving, just staring at him, and watching the expression on his face. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't say a word.

I began to ride him then, still sitting on him. I bounced on top of him, and I could feel him wanting to touch me. I could feel him wanting to slip out of the tied robe, but he didn't, and he got bonus points for that. I leaned towards him, and he tilted his head towards me to suck my breasts. He began nibbling, and we moved together in perfect harmony. The great thing about marriage is, you know each other, you know what works, and what doesn't work. It makes up for the little fights about money and old girlfriends.

Before I knew it, I could feel myself wanting to let go and ride that wave of passion to the end of time. I moved away from him then, yes still riding him, but changing the rhythm slightly so I wouldn't ride the waves quite yet. My love still had his head burrowed in the pillows, and if I wasn't so horny, I'd be mad at him for ignoring me. Then again, he was tied up, so what was a man to do? I smiled at the thought, and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. He opened his eyes again, smiled at me, and whispered "I love you", and grinded his bottom into mine. I whispered sweet nothings into his ear as I rode him, and he sucked on my breasts. As I moved on him, I began to fly, and this time I let myself go and I moaned deep into his ear, and I began to shake, and shake some more, and then I collapsed on top of him, panting.

He slipped out of the robe then, and rolled me over and him on top of me. He banged his hips on top of me, moved his head next to dove, and mine into my depths with as much muster as he could muster. He came then, loudly, sweating. Good sex is always messy and sweaty. Then again, bad sex was usually messy and sweaty, too - just not as much so.

We both lay there panting for a moment or two, and then we rolled over till we were on our sides, still touching, and looking into our eyes. I started giggling then, and couldn't stop, and couldn't explain why, either. I kissed him, and felt him, and knew he still wanted me, and knew I still wanted him. And knew it was going to be a very long, enjoyable night, full of romance and making love.