"Penny for your thoughts, Susie," my sweet husband inquired, the side of his face resting against my wild, unruly, untrimmed pubis. I don't know how long we had been laying there. Basking in my post orgasmic afterglow I had been daydreaming about a much earlier time in our marriage.
I ran my hand over his now bald head remembering when it had been covered with long, thick almost golden blond hair. We were old now or as he described it seasoned.
"Shhh, not now cuck," I answered, not ready to share with him my thoughts. He knew better than to talk without being spoken to first, but I let it slide understanding his restlessness. He hadn't climaxed in weeks and he was dying to be free of the chastity device he had been wearing since his last climax.
When caged his poor penis couldn't get hard, but that didn't stop it from trying to. While the cage physically contained his penis, bit couldn't contain his thoughts. If anything it made them frustratingly stronger. His pent up desire made him a very attentive lover. He tended to my garden quite well giving me wonderful orgasms forty years into our marriage. I considered myself quite lucky. My health was good. I exercised every day, still played tennis and golf. My breasts hung lower, but they still drew plenty of admiring glances and my ass was plumper, but still quite firm. Best of all I still craved sex and even after menopause had no problems getting wet.
The only things menopause changed were I could no longer get pregnant and I was no longer a size queen. My vagina had gotten smaller and while I no longer craved to,be fucked by really big cocks I still needed a bigger cock than what my husband Donny's four inches could give me.
Chastity, cuckoldry, discipline, my natural bossiness which some called bitchiness and his natural submissiveness worked for us. Denied release, Donny had become quite pliable.
I smiled at him, "I have a cure for your restlessness cuck. How about another licking? The last orgasm was quite nice, but it happened too fast." I laughed before continuing, "Your mouth is just too damn good."
I put my hand on the top of his head and pressed signaling him to get to work to use his tongue on my wet furrow. I close my eyes him thinking to myself he really is quite talented with his tongue. Soft, wet, slow, and long he used his tongue to give my vagina what I can only describe as long, French kisses. So good I thought. At some point those kisses would turn into his tongue being used as a surrogate cock to fuck my pussy. His penis hadn't ventured into the wet, warm, confines of my vagina in a very long time. And while his gardening skills were excellent his seed had not been used to produce my harvest, five healthy, productive, successful, happy children who were now adults with families of their own.
Did they suspect? Yes. Did we discuss it? No. They had seen other men come and go, watched me leave on a date while their dad stayed behind to care for them. Donny's comfort with me having male friends assuaged whatever anxieties they had. He and I presented ourselves as a very loving, affectionate, happy couple in front of our children, our families, and our friends. It was easy because it was no act. As for him being the fawning husband he treated our kids the same way. I didn't need to boss him around in front of them because he did without asking. He demonstrated to them what a husband should do. Our sons are not submissive types, but they emulate his behavior in their conduct with their wives and our daughters married men who were very much like their dad.
I closed my eyes and my mind drifted to thoughts of an earlier time.
Donny and I dated for several before marrying. Even back then he had been a very considerate man. He deferred to me on almost everything. We were both sexually inexperienced. We took our physical relationship very slowly. He was very patient with me to the point where I became the aggressor. I even asked him why thinking he might not have been as attracted to me as I was to him. He said it was just the opposite. He just didn't want to be seen as interested in only one thing. I assured him I knew he wasn't just after sex. He took our conversation to heart and became more active at initiating sex. Our sex prior to marriage didn't involve much intercourse. We discovered he liked to pleasure me with his mouth and I really liked to have his mouth down there, his tongue working its magic on me.
I also discovered while I had told him I wanted him to be more aggressive at initiating physical intimacy I actually became more aroused when I initiated it. I hadn't been around any other penises than his so his four inches seemed plenty big. I remembered how much it hurt the first time. It wasn't until after we married Donny learned to use his fingers while we fucked. He never lasted very long, but long enough for me to orgasm as he rubbed my clitoris. Intercourse almost always followed cunnilingus. It was like his reward for, giving me the big O with his mouth was for my pussy to return the favor by letting him fuck me.
I gave him plenty of blow jobs. His penis was perfect for sucking and deep throating. I wasn't wild about the taste of cum, but there were times I dutifully swallowed. I would make a big deal about the metallic, bitter taste of his cum and how it made me feel sticky. I wasn't telling him I wouldn't swallow, but he interpreted it that way. He started to remind me whenever he was about to climax. I would quit sucking him and use my hand to finish him off.
He had never been a possessive boyfriend, but there were a few times I had made him jealous. He was more wounded than angry. We never broke up over them, but we had some very passionate oral sex when we made up. There was nothing for me to be ashamed of or sorry for because what I did to make him jealous was pretty tame.
I did notice how excited he got when I initiated sex after these instances. I didn't really connect it to anything because I was pretty damn excited too.
We married, moved halfway across the country, to begin our life together. We were both working and looking for a second car. We made friends with a couple who had the same schedule as us. She and I would carpool and Donny and her husband would carpool.
It was the second year of our marriage when Donny began commenting about other men noticing me. He seemed very proud of the fact other men found me very attractive and it boosted my ego to think I had not evolved into some sexless wife. He was noticeably much more aggressive after these conversations. I guess because I was receptive to his initial comments he decided I'd be receptive to more graphic comments.
I was to a point, but they also bothered me. I even went so far as to ask him if that's how he saw me as some slut. He assured me he didn't, but admitted he found the idea of me having sex with other men exciting. He also swore it was just pillow talk, that he never wanted it to really happen, that it would kill him.
His mixed signals confused me. I was not interested in other men, but I wondered if the reason he was making all these comments was because he was interested in other women. I confronted him one night when I thought he was a little too chummy with a neighbor of ours. He swore it was nothing. What he did with her wouldn't have normally made me jealous, but because of all his comments I was paranoid. I rather pointedly told him I wasn't about to open our marriage to other women, that his behavior had offended me and I wouldn't tolerate it, and asked him to be honest. Was he looking for an excuse to cheat?
It wasn't like him to push my buttons. My Mexican roots got the best of me. I was what my dad described as hopping mad. Donny spoke no Spanish, but I let him have it in both English and Spanish. I then did something completely out of character. I slapped him hard across the face. I can still hear the smack of my open palm across his cheek immediately followed by dead silence.
He stood there, beer on his breath, his eyes a bit bloodshot, and looked at me in disbelief. We had even talked about spousal abuse before we married and how it was a dealbreaker. I swore to him and he agreed the first time it happened would be the last. Never in a million years would I have foreseen me being the a user.
Donny was drunk. He had already put on his pajamas and I was wearing a nightgown. I stared at him wondering if he was going to hit me or walk out. Adrenaline coursed through my body. My heart was pounding, my armpits drenched, my face red, but something else was going on. My nipples had gone from soft to hard and my crotch was on fire.
Donny didn't hit me or walk away. He instead wrapped his arms around me and with tears streaming down his face said he was sorry. I hugged him back. I didn't apologize. We exchanged a long kiss. I felt his erection against my pubis. I thought he's hard and I'm incredibly turned on. Was this what they meant by makeup sex? It wasn't our first quarrel, but it was the first time we had both been so immediately aroused after a fight. Normally we put distance between each other and gave ourselves time to cool down.
