So here I am. Over thirty. Shit, kicking and screaming my way to forty, really... and I'm looking for a new adventure. One that I've not had before. I reckon it shouldn't be a tall order for me. I've had a model life. No major illnesses, setbacks, broken hearts. Settled down at twenty with the first man that came along (a wonderful man, I must say), but now, two kids, two college degrees, a mortgage and one dog later, I feel I'm missing out.
Before you rush to judgment, let me say that I do know how fortunate I am. In light of that, I've done my best to keep my marriage spicy, so that I don't stray in my ennui. I've done the lingerie and candlelit dinners ad nauseum. When that grew old, on the kids' hockey night, I took to meeting my husband at the door, nips out, with a plate of freshly baked goodies in hand.
The first time I did that, I remember he stumbled across the threshold in a stunned silence before quickly kicking the door closed, as he questioned my sanity. His shock didn't last too long, though. He gave me a thorough fucking against the wall beside the coat stand.
Greatly encouraged, I orchestrated a few more evenings like that, upping the ante each time until I took it right out into the yard one night.
On that particular evening, I asked him to give me a call on his way home to let me know when he was about to turn onto our avenue. He drove down our winding driveway, to discover me firmly planted on a bench, stark naked, legs wide open. The rush I felt in the flood of the headlights was frighteningly exhilarating. Completely blinded by the glare, I lowered my head; I pushed my long hair aside to play with my nipples and pussy. I swear my heart was pounding louder than the purr of the engine. It seemed it took forever for him to get out of the damned car, but when he did, he left it running with the headlights on as he strode over to me. Without a word, he bent me over the bench with one hand, as he freed his cock with the other. The next thing I felt was seven inches of hard cock in my pussy. No foreplay. Nothing.
It was all I could do to steady myself by gripping the bench as he ploughed away. My husband is an awesome fuck and that night, I fought valiantly to not let the neighbours in on my little secret. He pummeled my pussy until I came violently, convulsing under him, not giving a damn who heard my cries. He came right after me, as if on cue. I tensed up, bracing for the onslaught. He's a big guy and he was banging me like his life depended on it. He pressed his balls up against my pussy and let rip, shoving his cum deeper and deeper into me as he groaned into my hair. I was as limp as a rag doll by then. When he pulled out, we finally kissed and he locked up the car. I remember how warm his cum was as it dribbled down my thighs as we made our way into the house.
So, it has gotten better, but still, there's a small itch that I really need to scratch. I desperately want to experience something new. I'm thinking a group experience. But how to go about so delicate a subject? I suppose I could petition my incredibly supportive husband for an enthustic, adventurous young lover or two, but, I wouldn't have the heart.
Fuck it, I was stumped. Not sure how to approach it all. I took to internet searches with the aim to satisfy my curiosity, as well as my lust. It only enhanced my dilemma. As we lay in bed one night, I put it to my husband that we should go out clubbing across town. He thought we were too old to club. I explained that we could do dinner before at a nice little restaurant, but that the 'dancing' (a more age appropriate word) would come later at a quaint jazz club. He seemed up for it, and so I went to bed that night hopeful that my plan might actually work.