Shower Confessional Booth

First Story as a new writer:

We had just made love, and for the first time in a long while Leah erupted into a series of multiple, deep orgasms. There is a point in our love making sessions where she states "YOU", which is my indication that she is ready for me to fuck her and finish, which usually happens deep inside. This often triggers her own contractions as her pussy contracts around me with her own orgasm, milking the last drops from the depths of my balls while I shudder and then collapse in a heap. As we lay in each other's arms, we were talking about what worked and why. This has taken a lot of work on our communication to get her to open up and communicate about her body and sexuality. As you would expect, with age and now on the other side of menopause, things change, her body lubricates and reacts differently, and the combination I had once memorized to unlock her bliss, had been changed and we have been working to crack the code together. As she explained how she reacted all of the tools in my sexual arsenal from tounge to fingers and the various toys that were used, she detailed how and where being touched felt best. I outlined her instructions with my fingers, and they were slick with the mixture of our combined passion. She had one more small orgasm, but as I was ready for another round, she was "Good". And it was off to the shower.

#

They say that context is king, so I should start with some background. At fifty-five Leah is a beautiful long blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty whose appearance has barely aged in 25 years since I first met her. I partially attribute the youthfulness of her appearance to the fact that she doesn't smoke and barely drinks. She is always put together and balances her natural beauty in a perfect package of cute and curvy, slightly pear shaped with ample full bosoms. In the world of erotica, as a mom of two children that are now young adults, with a full figure she would clearly fit in the category of Amateur, Curvy MILF (she hates that term). I, Ryan am four and half years younger, handsome and charming in the face, and the dad-bod version of a long-ago high-school center, that has become rounder after 30 years of a life in sales. My attributes of attraction are not physical, they are being a compassionate, loving partners, husband, father and provider, with earning power to provide a life of modest upper-middle class comfort. I stand at 6'0, with a waist in the lower forties, and weigh in around 265 pounds, and sport an average 53/4" cut member. I have always been heavier, and don't really know any other life, so I am comfortable in my own skin, including the male portions.

We met right after Leah celebrated her 30th birthday. I was awe struck with her from the first night we met. She came striding into the Olive Garden, where we agreed to meet at the bar for our first date, after a series of email chats having met online through one of the early web-dating sites. She had jeans, a black blouse and a tweed blazer. My gaze was equally split at the bright smile, her beautiful blue eyes framed by her permed blonde hair still, and the confidence of a woman who knew who she was. The next thing I noticed was her ample bust and cleavage, and the way her hips sashayed as she walked. I instantly forgot my annoyance of having waited nearly 40 minutes past our agreed upon meeting time, each extended by text. After a drink turned to dinner, we closed the restaurant and shared our first passionate kiss in the parking lot. Extending the Sunday evening to the only place open, we went to the local Sheraton where they had a DJ and dancing.

At the end of the evening, we enjoyed some hot and heavy kissing and heavy petting in the front seat. Between the taste of her lips, her breasts in my hands, the way she reacted to kisses on her neck, and the wetness as she let me get further than we should on a first date. I tasted her on my fingers that night and was immediately under her spell.

Now if we were ice cream flavors, sexually speaking Leah would be vanilla bean, with a drizzle of caramel, while I would be coffee toffee mocha chocolate chip.

When we met, I could count my sexual relationships on one hand, but some of those had plenty of spice and heat, with one partner in particular who lived in a constant state of rebellion from her hyper-conservative upbringing, and sharing an apartment at 21, I was more than willing to be her canvas of sexual exploration and experimentation. I would say nothing was out of bounds. (More later)

As I would learn over time, Leah's partner count was exponentially higher than mine. Once, mostly to shut me up, she had given me a number of thirty. If you believe the adage that when pressed for a number, women typically will automatically lower their weight and number of sexual partners. Her higher partner count never bothered me, but statistically speaking I knew that meant that if my 5 3/4" inch penis was the mean average, she had experienced both ends of the spectrum, with multiple partners. I excelled in one area that most of her partners never did, and that was in my oral prowess. Twenty-five years later, two facts occupy my bedroom imagination. The first is that she is still the goddess that I love and worshipping at the altar of her femineity is the greatest joy of my life. The second being that the intimacy I have with her pussy leaves me with a certainty that size does matter.

#

In the now steam filled bathroom of our master suite, my arousal was rebuilding seeing her naked silhouette through the frosted shower curtain as I appreciated this beauty that has been my wife for 22 years. Knowing the shower creates a vulnerability to Leah's shyness, as if the stall and frosted curtain served as a sort of confessional. Knowing this I continued to pry her for more secrets of her recent arousal and hyper climax, exploiting the confidence that the plastic veil provided. I have of late been focusing on opening her wider, making sure that plenty of friction is received, leaving her feel stretch and full, before I would finally enter her, with a full awareness of the thirty plus men who cocks had been here in the past. She stopped shy of a full confession that she loves being full, and that my member isn't always enough.

It didn't matter, the soaked sex blanket and her earlier bliss was enough circumstantial evidence of her deepest truth and desire, and with that a plan was set in motion.