We have developed a signal over time whereby I convey my interest in having sex and give my wife a decent forewarning to get in the mood.
It was intended to be something that could be said around others that would still offer clear meaning to my wife.
Lori as it happens is particularly aroused with putting on lipstick. All the better if it is bright red lipstick. Or better still if I paint the lipstick on her full lips. Which is fine by me as I have a strong preference for full lips and Lori generously meets my preferred female archetype with full lips framing naturally straight and beautifully symmetrical teeth.
Our signal? "Do you need to go put on lipstick?" or some similar reference to lipstick.
Why the signal? Lori likes to get in a receptive mindset by doing some preparatory reading. Like most guys, I'm visual and like a few naughty pictures, but it doesn't require much to get me interested. Lori in a smile and the mood is more than enough. Lori's preferred gear shift for the mind is erotic stories. She's a little tiger when aroused but prim, proper and even a big resistant when not aroused. Raised on a farm in a proper guilt ridden Catholic family, she was conditioned to think of sex as something dirty and endured. I think she was surprised when at college she discovered she liked it, but that family of origin background is always a hurdle to get over. As a consequence, her favorite erotic stories involve authority figures or mind control where the responsibility for engaging in sex is removed from her choice. It's a bit complex psychologically as she desires to be controlled in the bedroom, even spanked for being a bad girl. That's not what work colleagues would expect as outside the bedroom she's quite in control and supervises mostly men as a real estate construction project manager. At work she's a well-dressed, statuesque blonde with authoritative knowledge of construction and an MBA. Ah, but if she gets in the mood she needs to be controlled and wants to be spanked.
I try to indulge her whims, though I hadn't even considered striking a woman before she asked. It would be ungentlemanly. But she told me one of the steamy love stories she read as a teenager that she wasn't supposed to find in her mother's trove of paperbacks. It involved a dashing Caribbean pirate that kidnapped a beautiful blonde lass. The pirate had dark flowing hair, and an open white shirt with blouson sleeves and tight pants tucked into knee high boots. I was never sure if the description was from the text, the front cover -- it does sound very Harlequin romance in style, or merely Lori's imagination filling in desirable details. In any case, the blonde lass resist the pirate's interest, because it is the proper thing to do. It's what is expected of an English lady, even in distress. Yet she secretly is increasingly intrigued by and attracted to the dashing, athletic and it turns out intelligent pirate. Still duty compelled her to attempt to escape. An attempt that was, alas unsuccessful. But it left her drenched in the rolling surf on a sheltered Caribbean cay with nothing but a thin white cotton shift and torn petticoat both drenched to near transparency. The pirate in his rage determines to treat her like the spoiled brat child her behavior henceforth has suggested and spanks the lass. The physical contact on her bottom lowered her defenses and rather than fighting, the passion was reversed and converted to lust. The end was a predictable coupling fueled by passions long denied.
The story was apparently formative of Lori's later tastes. She still likes heroic stereotypes.
Where the lipstick fetish came into play I'm less certain. I do recall sharing a historical tidbit with her that lipstick was originally designed to echo the sexual arousal and engorgement of a woman's vaginal lips, repeating something from the History channel or some such source. Sounds plausible but I somehow doubt the Egyptians or Babylonians wrote that tidbit of insight down, so it's more likely modern speculation without much support other than someone else's sexual imagination. Then again, the Romans managed to record a lot of arcane detail, so maybe there is some historical basis to the fashion after all.
I do know that if I have any ambition to receive oral sex, that the lipstick is a necessary starting point. A carefully painted pair of lips, maybe even applying some color to Lori's nipples is definitely a fire-starter. With the right preparation Lori is particularly amused with leaving a tell tale circle of color where her lips have traveled. I don't mind the attention, so the investment in lipstick is well worth the ticket to ride. I've even painted her nether lips on occasion. Now that was delicious fun.
It's a trick to work that signal into casual conversation in public and a bit of a naughty thrill to be referring to sex in front of an audience. It can lead to a good teasing line of double entendres to extend the sexual tension.
But in private, I can be more direct. This time, I merely taped a tube of Lori's favorite lipstick to the entry door from the garage on a Friday afternoon, where she couldn't help but see it staring her in the face when she got home.
Nothing was said immediately. We instead did the usual after work routine. We prepared dinner and ate with talk of work and the usual weekend planning. We retired to the couch to watch a little news. Lori likes Bill O'Reilly so we caught a bit of that together. Soon though she opened her laptop. I'm sure she at least started with more innocent things like checking e-mail, maybe seeing what was listed on Craigslist, or reviewing new blog entries on professional sites. Eventually though I knew she ended up on mind control stories (mcstories.com) or Literotica, or one of a half-dozen or so sites that untied her inhibitions and gave her permission in one form or another to be naughty. The sun was moving towards its daily conclusion as she read.
I watched a good part of a movie. One I'd seen before and liked, so it was easy to digest. It was a Jesse Stone movie, "Thin Ice," with Tom Selleck who fits Lori's tastes and preferences pretty well, not that she was paying much attention. Midway through the movie Lori got up from the couch to get a drink. I was absorbed with the drama so didn't pay much attention. As the movie wound up to its climax, Lori reappeared.
She was freshly showered. Her hair was precisely coiffed. The perfume she wore was "Lauren" -- a favorite of mine, at least when on her. She had on a black lace demi bra with faded rose lace appliqué trim and a pair of very sheer white, split crotch panties. She was armed with a half empty whisky and Seven -- whisky being another key to release inhibitions. Get Lori a little bit drunk and there's a good chance of getting lucky. In her other hand was a stick of lipstick, an almost certain guarantee of sexual success.
She handed me the lipstick as I stood to attention. Guess I was going to miss the end of the movie, but that's one reason I picked a story I'd seen before. I knew Jesse was going to end up lonely but I wasn't. Lori wrapped her arms around the back of my neck and leaned back provocatively to give me room for my artistic ministrations to her lips, while pressing her hips into my groin.
"Time for lipstick," she purred.
I obliged, painting first the upper lip as she parted them in a very suggestive way, then the lower lip, and finally some touch up in various places to assure a smooth line and full coverage.
"Pretty inviting opening," I observed.
"I got the message when I came home. Very subtle."
That last was sarcasm, but with warm humor. I turned the base of the lipstick to retract the shiny red wax and replaced the cap, slipping it into my shirt pocket for later retrieval. I had other things I wanted my hands free to grab. Her bare ass cheeks were left exposed by the lace panties and felt hot and smooth to my touch.
My woman likes having her cheeks massaged and teased. I like doing it. I love the soft, delicate skin of her inner thigh. A nice gentle tease of that sensitive area combined with a firm massage of the deep muscles of her thigh and butt eventually has her arching her back to ask for an even more intimate touch.
I couldn't let the lipstick go to waste either. I was hungry for a kiss and she responded in kind with a wet, open kiss, aggressive with teeth and tongue. Her eyes were closed and breathing fast as she fumbled to undo my shirt and open my fly.
I love a low cut demi bra and the way it shows off cleavage. Lori's 34DDs were displayed to good effect and I could feel both the lace and her bare skin as she clung to me in an amorous embrace.
She wanted to be touched inside and penetrated but I wasn't yet ready to oblige. Still I could feel the heat between her legs and even moisture on her bare thighs. I had no doubt when I finally touched her longing that she would be slick and wet.
I like it when she's horny and wanton. I like it when she looks sexy. In a bra and crotchless panties it's not hard to look sexy. But she manages it just in crisp white blouse and slacks for work. She doesn't have any excess bulges, still commanding nice legs and nicely shaped butt with a narrow waist. I wasn't always so cavalier but now I like that other men look in appreciation at my woman. I'd like to show her off even more. When whispering bedroom talk I tell her how other men would like to enjoy her. I encourage her to show off. Even to be a bad girl. She likes being naughty occasionally, at least in her imagination. I teased her a bit, "Wouldn't other men like to see you now."
"I don't want other men right now," she whimpered in my ear. "Touch me there. See how wet I am for you."
