I think my wife's a nymphomaniac.
OK, OK - maybe she isn't if you use the strict dictionary definition of the word. But she does think about sex a lot. And I mean a whole lot. Somewhere along the line the sweet little girl that I married turned into some kind of always-lusty sex kitten.
...
When Steffi comes home from her job as a junior high teacher she heads straight for her computer. She simply can't wait to look at this website she found that collects dirty stories. If there aren't any new ones for her to drool over then she's in a bad mood for hours. And then once she's devoured a new one, she wants to discuss it with me. Every little detail. Every thought that the characters have. Every position they use. And I know that they give her ideas. Sometimes she even suggests that we try them out. Ropes? Public sex? Dirty talking? I don't know about that kind of stuff. Maybe I'm just getting old, but give me plain old vanilla sex a few times a week with my wife and I'm a happy camper.
Sometimes we joke about our changing needs. After a few years of marriage my desires have diminished to the point where a good screwing 3 or 4 times a week is enough. And most of the rest of the time I don't think about it at all. But while the lust of my youth has been waning, hers has been growing almost exponentially. It could be that she needs more sex to reassure her that she's still a sexy woman. Or maybe her body just craves it more and more without any input from her brain. I don't know what the reasons are, but I do know one thing - her lust is starting to get out of hand.
The other day at Applebee's we were eating dinner and I saw her watching the waiter's ass as he walked away from our table. He was a good-looking sort of guy, and friendly enough. Steffi's eyes took on a faraway look and I saw how tightly her fingers were gripping her fork.
"You're thinking about what it would be like to fuck him, aren't you?"
At least she had the grace to look a little embarrassed. Not ashamed, you understand. But a little blush arose to her cheek as she dropped her eyes to her lap. This wasn't the first time that I'd caught her fantasizing about some stranger. "Well, yeah."
I laughed, and so did she. I knew that her desires sometimes took over her rational thought, and I knew that I was going to be truly well fucked when we got home. Steffi tried to pay more attention to me through dinner, but every once in a while her fingers would twitch and her eyes would lose their focus and I knew that she was imagining her hands on our waiter's ass, pulling him deeper between her spread legs.
The arrival of the new Victoria's Secret catalog is always a big occasion in our house. Not that I care that much. I have my oversexed naked wife to look at, and she's so pretty that she still takes my breath away. But Steffi insists that we have to snuggle on the couch and go through the catalog page by page together. She makes little yummy sounds of delight at each new fandangle and every lacy frou-frou. As we turn the pages together Steffi insists that I help her choose some sexy thing to wear.
"Which would make you want to fuck me more? The red bustier, with my bare boobs hanging out? Or this pink nightie on page 37? I could wear it with this pair of nylons with the little roses over here on the stockings page? What do you think? Which one makes your cock want me?"
And she doesn't just order from catalogs, either. She knows all of the sexy lingerie stores in town. And it seems like every weekend she comes home with some new frilly thing to wear. A pair of black satin crotch less panties from Frederick's. A baby-doll with "I'm Yours!" printed on the front from Crystal's. A lacy blue teddy from Fascinations. And she's never happy unless I rip the damn thing off of her and ravage her as soon as I see her in it. One time she even made a schoolgirl outfit to wear just because she thought I'd like fucking her in it. Sometimes I think that if I didn't put my foot down Steffi would spend all her free time fucking, shopping for lingerie or reading dirty stories.
Last weekend after we woke up Steffi wanted to screw around. Again. As if last night hadn't happened at all. But I disentangled myself and got out of bed. While she napped (and probably played with herself) I showered and got dressed. We ate some breakfast together and then I told her I had to leave. I had my hand on the doorknob when she padded over to me, still wearing her short silk nightshirt. She put her hands on my chest and looked me in the eye. Her breath smelled faintly of morning coffee and her hair was still tousled from last night's sleep, and I thought she was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen. Her voice was sincere and childlike. "Can you fuck me before you go?"
I chuckled a little and said, "Noooo." I tried to sound reluctant, as if I was very sorry that I had to pass up the opportunity to make love to her. I do like to make love to her. Just not all of the time. A guy likes to think it's his idea sometimes, you know? But the fact is that if I don't respond with at least token enthusiasm to each and every one of her offers, then she can pout for days. "I really have to get some stuff done this morning. But I'll be back in a couple of hours."
"Where are you going?"
"To the mall." I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth because I knew immediately what my wife would think. A trip to the mall for me was a lingerie shopping opportunity for Steffi. As if I really needed her looking at sexy clothes and getting more hot and bothered than she was already.
"Oh, goody! Wait right here." Steffi gave me a quick peck on the corner of my mouth. "I'll only be a minute."
Of course, it wasn't only a minute. It was more like 15. When she finally met me at the car, Steffi had somehow changed from tousled suburban housewife wife into a sultry sexkitten. She had put on her makeup and done something with her hair. Her jeans were snug, and she filled them out perfectly. My wife has passed the age where she thinks that looking anorexic is desirable, thank goodness. Her figure was lush with the tempting curves of a full grown woman. She had on a pair of clear Lucite high heels with a 2 inch platform. Steffi's always been tall and the shoes raised her height to the point where she could look me in the eye. Her toes were covered in black and I knew that she had on a pair of nylon stockings under her jeans. She looked so damned sexy that for a moment I reconsidered my decision to screw her before I left.
When we got to the mall we split up. Of course, not before she gave me a sloppy wet kiss full of promises for later. I watched her sexy ass wiggling under her jeans as she walked off towards the department stores and anyplace else that she could find sexy clothes.
I was over in the hardware store looking at a new variable speed drill when my cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Can you fuck me now?"
I chuckled, imagining Steffi calling me while looking standing in the store looking at rack of frilly bra and panty sets. "Nooooo..."
Immediately the phone disconnected. I hung up with a soft chuckle. If Steffi was this worked up now, I couldn't even imagine how excited she'd make herself before we got home. I didn't give it too much thought as I picked out a new drill. My wife being horny and preoccupied with sex wasn't exactly news to me.
A little bit later I had moved on to the electrical department. I was checking out TV cables so that I could hook up the upstairs television when my phone rang again.
