I love Sex, I always have and I especially like the run up to it, the anticipation, the first glimpse of a breast, the feel of a nipple and the incredible sensation that sends chills from your toes to your tongue when she wraps her fingers around your cock for the first time.
There's so much more to sex than thrusting a penis into a vagina; that's the frosting on the cake. Even now I can feel the tingle and the slow hardening I experience when I think of my hand sliding down her tummy until finally touching pubic hair and then the moist, no, the wetness that starts to rush from between her labia. When that happens, and her legs part voluntarily in an effort to assist you, you know your manhood will soon enter the very essence of your love mate and she will buck and beg and holler until she explodes in a grinding, gushing climax. Wow, that's what a good fuck is all about. It's when your partner gets as much or more pleasure than you do.
Me? I'm Jonathan; 30 years old, musician, writer, consultant and husband. I suffer from terminal horniness and have never had trouble satisfying it, but as I grow older I seem to need new experiences, new stimulation and new ideas to keep my libido alive. Fortunately, my wife Carol is much like me. We met at a "Stones" concert and three hours later were in love. The Stones were old then, but they sparked something in us that will never die. So solid was that meeting we have been together ever since.
I'm 6'3" 190 lbs., dark wavy hair and fairly well hung, but not huge. Carol reeks of sensuality. She is a 26 year old brunette with shoulder length hair, 34 C and stands about two inches shy of six feet. She carries her 135 pounds with grace, dignity and sensuality. When people see her they can't quit looking and that's true of both sexes. Some women have to wear suggestive or revealing clothing to be sexy, but not Carol. She'd be sexy if she wore a tent. She doesn't have to flirt to be flirty, she doesn't have to show skin to be sexy...she just is. It's all in those big, pale blue eyes. They have a special flirty, sexy twinkle that make her immediately likable and desirable. When I met her I knew her eyes were saying "I'll bet you'd love to fuck me, and if you play your cards right, who knows," look on her face.
Carol is quiet, unassuming, highly intelligent and strangely naïve about a lot of; things. She is an architect and her word revolves around big buildings or, huge erections if you will. She is also striking in appearance. Her pale blue eyes are complimented by that full, wavy, dark chocolate hair that falls just below her shoulders. Her lips are full, not Angelina Jolie full, but nearly. Her nose is neither tiny nor large, it was not aquiline either but almost. She is perfectly proportioned and runs 3 miles a day. Her legs are toned, but not muscular. She appears to have no body fat but wears such conservative clothing it is hard to tell. Even her breasts which look smallish in her business suits are not -- and once in a while, when she gets excited one can see a hint of nipple but only if you stare -- and people do that all the time.
Carol doesn't flaunt her sexiness, she doesn't have to. She likes wearing full button down the front blouses and usually leaves the top three buttons open. She rarely wears a bra but her blouses and jackets do a good job of hiding that fact, unless she leans back and stretches or bends over to pick something up. When that happens all conversation stops. One peak at her wonderful breasts will replace at least three of the little blue pills.
We love each other intensely and would never do anything to violate that trust, but that doesn't mean we don't enjoy others. From day one we had this mutual fantasy of threesomes or foursomes, but didn't act on the temptation for a while. I know this, I get hard just thinking of her with another man -- or woman. Before I get to more of that, though, how about a little history.
Here's how our relationship developed after that first meeting. We were on our second date and I knew I was in love. We talked about sex, but short of a little petting and kissing had not had enough time in an appropriate place to experiment. We were incredibly busy professionals so even our dates usually involved a business function as well so there was very little opportunity for anything more than a stolen kiss or quick feel. It is hard to do much more at a cocktail party. We tried stopping an elevator in mid journey a couple of times, but that only made us hornier and more frustrated. Our relationship had begun at an incredibly busy time for both of us.
Our frustration mounted with each passing day -- we simply could not find time to be alone, anywhere. Both of us knew that we weren't far from throwing caution to the winds and doing it on the Sushi bar, but we resisted. I could feel her heat and I know she felt mine. She had confided in me that her only sexual experiences were unsatisfying and amounted to little more than the cartoonish back seat slam, bam, thank you ma'am kind of action practiced by horny teenagers. She said that while she was sure sex with the right person would be very exciting, she had never had an orgasm. Her partners always seemed to arrive at that point before she did.
It was on that second date when we came very close. We had been at a ceremony put on by her firm where they christened a new building and she had a little too much bubbly. I drove her to her apartment and noticed that she was a bit unsteady when she got out of the car, so I offered to walk her the 50 feet to her apartment building door and then up a few floors to her apartment. As we rode up to the twelfth floor she leaned against me and I kissed her until the elevator stopped. She insisted I come in for a nightcap, motioned me toward a loveseat and disappeared into the kitchen. When she emerged she had a bottle of Merlot and two glasses. She nearly filled each glass before sitting back to enjoy the wine and the end of a nice evening. "The moment might be here," I thought.
The Merlot was not what she needed. We tried talking but she wasn't forming thoughts real well so I moved closer to her on the love seat and we kissed long, often and deeply. Her tongue responded with such desperation I could not keep my right hand from cupping her left breast, it was the first time I'd done that -- and she didn't resist. With our tongues tangled together I fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. She not only didn't object, she helped take it off. By now my pecker was struggling to get out of my pants and my hand found its way to the clasp on her bra. I removed it and was licking her nipples in a millisecond. That's when her whole body began to shudder and she pulled me closer to her forcing more of her breast into my mouth. Needless to say we were both very turned on. Upon seeing her tits for the very first time I was paralyzed. Never had I seen such beautiful, perfectly proportioned breasts and nipples.
It was at that precise moment that the brain in my skull went into "pause" mode to allow the second more dominant brain all men have between their legs, to begin to make decisions. I moved from one breast to the other, gently licking her nipples and fully expecting even more signs of passion from her, but nothing happened, so I continued what I was doing and that's when I heard a small snoring sound. The last glass of wine had put her over the edge, she was out for the night and being as I'm not into rape, I stopped. What frustration -- I thought my balls were going to burst.
I waited a few minutes and laid her head on a pillow on the love seat while staring at her naked upper body. I stood, dropped my pants and Jockeys and stood in front of her with my cock inches from her face. I grabbed some Kleenex from a box on the coffee table and in about three strokes I came into the tissues. I should have taken a lot more Kleenex, it was like I couldn't stop coming, God but I wanted to fuck her --- but that night it wasn't going to happen. I left her a note and went home.
Our third and fourth dates offered no opportunity for sex either and I was beginning to suspect it would never happen. It was on our fifth date that we decided neither of us could take it anymore, so after confessing our love for each other we decided to get married. We live where there are several 24 hour marriage chapels so we found a guy who would marry us and in a ten minute ceremony we were Mr. and Mrs. When the guy said, "You may kiss the bride," we got a little carried away and he had to tap me on the shoulder while sternly suggesting we find some privacy (I guess he didn't like my fondling Carol's breasts as we kissed). His wife was less strict and told him to leave us alone, but we took his advice.
The chapel was near the airport and that's where I had earlier rented a motel room. It was nothing fancy but we weren't too interested in aesthetics. Just before we left the chapel, Carol used the rest room to change into more comfortable clothing, heeding my instructions not to wear underwear, just shorts and a T-shirt. It made her very self-conscious because her nipples were so large and she knew people would stare at her so when she left the building she threw a light jacket over her shoulders and kind of jogged out to where I was waiting in the car.
I looked up just as she emerged from the building carrying two small bags. The jacket over her shoulders did nothing to hide her jiggling breasts and erect nipples. If I could see those gorgeous tits then anyone walking in her direction would see them, too -- and they did. Two men stopped her almost immediately and asked if they could help with her bags. One of them asked her out, right there and then. She told me later that he never looked at her face once in their two minute conversation. He said he was going to "Tits, er, ah, Pittsburgh" on business, but had time for a couple drinks. She thought that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. As he stared she unbuttoned two more buttons on her blouse and flashed him a tit. His mouth dropped open and she jogged away to the car, giggling all the way.
"Wow," I thought, "It's the evening of our honeymoon and guys are already hitting on my new bride." She threw the jacket in the back seat, got in front with me, flashed the same tit at me and said, "I think he liked these, do you?" Then she took one forefinger and traced a circle round my mouth and began to laugh. She looked at my lap, saw the tell-tale signs of a tent being erected, giggled more and said, "I think you do." That's when she confessed that our relationship even though unconsummated had awaked a lust in her she did not know existed. She also said that whenever we were together she got very wet. She was confused by these feelings that had caused her to be unable to concentrate on anything.
Upon arriving at the airport hotel we wasted no time. The bellman followed us to our room with our bags as Carol plopped herself on the bed. The fact that she was braless was more than obvious as her erect nipples made every attempt to poke through the fabric of the T-shirt and with the buttons still undone moist of her right breast was exposed. The Bellman didn't just look he stared, then with a wink and a smile took the tip and left, closing the door behind him. I went into the bathroom to relieve myself and when I came out, she was lying on the bed wearing only a very brief pair of panties. Her hand was in them. I was drooling. She motioned me toward the bed, put her arms around my neck and said, "I've been doing a lot of reading about sex and honeymoons and I've made a decision. We can make long, slow love later today and the rest of our lives, but right now I am very horny -- dirty horny -- desperate horny -- slutty horny. I want you to fuck me. Her hand moved down to my crotch, pulled the zipper as far as it would go, reached in and squeezed my hard, throbbing cock. "Fuck me with this, right now, and right here and be rough and dirty. Talk to me as though I was as slutty as I feel.
