Attachment

A couple of weeks ago, The Husband and I had a kid-free week. One night, we stopped at an adult shop on the way home from a wonderful evening out. Most of the toys were way over priced, but it was still fun to look. The only item we purchased was a large bottle of Jo H2O water-based lubricant. Why we didn’t already have some is beyond me. I guess we’ve been getting by with lotion, massage oil and natural wetness.

I did not realize what a difference it would make with Juan! Wow. A-ma-zing.

This morning, I pumped a little into my hand and stroked The Husband. A light came on in his kinky head. “This would work really well with my attachment,” he said. “You should spank me and make me show you…while you’re smoking a cigarette.”

I’m sending the kids to to my mother’s house ASAP.

Letting go

The Husband was surprised last night when he climbed into bed around midnight and found me naked. I snuggled close to him, intertwining our limbs and letting him hold me tightly. I wasn’t particularly horny, just wanted to feel the cool sheets directly against my freshly showered skin.

One of the nicest things about sex with The Husband is that we have the location and time to explore  and experiment.

After a prolonged period of embracing and full-body massaging, I rolled onto my stomach and stretched. Immediately, he went under the covers and began lightly squeezing and biting my ass. I knew what was coming. For what seemed like 20 minutes, he explored me with his fingers and tongue. I lay there quietly moaning and writhing my hips as he buried his tongue inside.

Raising my hips and ass off the bed, I indicated my interest in being fucked. He climbed onto my back and entered me. He would get in a few strokes before returning his attention to my ass. That was a first. I suspect he wasn’t ready to come. He did that three times before claiming a release that must have been other worldly, judging by his gasps and groans.

By then, it was 1 a.m. and time for sleep. I am finding new pleasure in letting him enjoy my body.

‘Me’ time

After spending six long, exhausting days with a team of middle-school boys at an international competition, I needed some “me” time…and cock…and Juan.

Of course, The Husband was quite anxious to get it on as soon as I got home, but I made him wait a day. Did I mention I was exhausted? “Thank you for letting me fuck you,” he whispered and positioned himself above me. I did not respond, just smiled slyly and spread my legs.

On Wednesday, The Hot Attorney called and was super excited about a new place he had cleared for us to fuck around in the woods, a little more remote than our “usual” place. He also mentioned a fantasy he had about the next time his law-school buddies come to town that includes me and any willing girlfriends I have getting together for some fun. “I like your fantasy,” I said. It’s true. I do. It probably won’t ever happen, but I like it!

“Can I see you this week?” he asked. “Sure!” I said. He mentioned that he had Friday off because his in-laws were in town but that he had some flexibility. When Friday rolled around, I never heard from him, so I assume that aforementioned flexibility evaporated. Perhaps he will be even more eager to see me next week. Not too long ago, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue seeing him; I’ve changed my mind…for now.

Out of the blue, I heard from Will on Thursday afternoon, via text. In January, he completely disappeared (shortly after my dad died). In the months leading up to that, we’d had some intense, intimate phone calls and text exchanges and two physical encounters. Of course, there were/are several complications: he’s married to one of my best friends; he might be an alcoholic; he wants a “girlfriend;” he thinks he’s a tortured “poet,” understood by few (I am one of the lucky few); and he consistently canceled/chickened out on me. Honestly, it was a relief when he no longer showed up on my phone.

I was totally shocked and a little pissed off when “Hey!” appeared this week. Seriously?! He started in with his same schtick. “Ugh……” he wrote. (Translation: “I want to be dirty”). I didn’t bite. He wanted to call me right then. I said it was not a good time. He apologized for not staying in touch. “Shit happens,” I typed, because I really didn’t care why he disappeared and had zero interest in an apology. He continued to hound me about wanting to talk, so I relented later that night while I was at a social event where I could steal away in a quiet corner, away from The Husband. He told me all about the volunteer work he was doing and said I was his inspiration. That’s good. Still not interested. He said he delivers meals on wheels in my neighborhood every Tuesday and wondered if we could get together one day soon. “Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said. “I really want to see you,” he pleaded. “Well, I need to run now…glad things are going well with you…bye,” I said and ended the call.

An hour later, another message. “Thank you for talking to me. You’re fun.” Dude. “Yes, I am more fun than you can handle.” It’s true. He likes the idea of having a girlfriend/fuck buddy, but isn’t prepared to walk the talk. And I don’t have the time to shepherd him through the process. Do I look like a set of training wheels? Do I look like a door mat? Finally, at the tender age of 46, I have figured out that if it isn’t working for me, I am not wasting my time.

Something that, without fail, works for me is MYC. Damn, he’s good at being bad. It took all of about 15 text messages on Wednesday afternoon to make me a hot, wet mess. Or was it Tuesday? Or both? Did I mention I was exhausted? And that I am old? My short-term memory sucks. What I do know is that at least once, if not more, I retrieved Juan from The Husband’s sock drawer to meet my MYC-induced need.

After I took the kids to school Friday morning (my day off!!!), I came home and settled into an altered state of mind. It was…heavenly. Pure and simple. I spent the day cleaning my cool, dark house in a tank top and lace panties, occasionally texting MYC, who had a morning meeting, and visiting with Juan. I came fantasizing about being on my knees in the middle of four men (MYC, Hot Attorney, Mitch and Will) stroking their cocks and deciding where to cum on me while The Husband sat in the corner and watched.

It was the most content I had been in…weeks? months?

MYC indicated that he was alone in the office for the rest of the afternoon. Guess where I went?

To be continued…

Spoiler: we both spent time on our knees.

Double-feature Friday

I wrote this post years ago. It has been living in the draft folder because it contained potentially incriminating images (since deleted). It has been surreal to revisit this and other similar experiences, like they happened to a different person. A crazy person. I really, really, really miss the mental and physical fucking around. It was the most fun.

A couple of weeks ago, I was not a happy camper. I felt really low, had little to no energy and was nursing a badly bruised calf, knee and shin—courtesy of a bad fall while crossing a creek on a weekend hike.

See? My life isn’t always rainbows and unicorns. Even sluts get the blues. Thankfully, I am on the other side of that now.

MYC had been out of town for a few days and was going to be coming through on his way home Friday. That morning, I was working from home and indicated I would probably play with Juan the Magic Wand. “Plz wait,” he texted. Knowing he would make it worth the wait, I practiced restraint and delayed my gratification.

I had to go into the office that afternoon to finish a project, so we arranged to meet. In fact, I arrived only about 10 minutes before he did.

We chatted for a few minutes, then articles of clothing began to dot the floor and mouths and fingers began to explore.

He licked and sucked in all the right places, quickly eliciting a climax. Damn, I am so glad I got over whatever hangups I had about getting my pussy eaten. In fact, once a week is hardly enough.

I leaned over the desk, ass in the air, inviting his cock to enter my hot, swollen, soaking pussy. After a few hard thrusts and groans, he exploded inside of me. We dressed and he went on his way. I stayed another hour or so to finish my project.

The Husband texted me just before I left to let me know the kids were gone for a while. That’s code for “we can get nasty.” Well, OK! I stopped in the bathroom on the way to my car and freshened up a bit (you know, to erase traces of MYC’s delicious cum, just in case).

Within about five minutes of hitting the door, our clothes were off and we were in bed. After some tender kissing, touching and licking, he started moving down between my legs. Damn! Twice in one day?! Fuck me. I was one satisfied slut.

And you know what? I am worth it.

Take me to the river

Well, Tuesday was my birthday. Yea, me! On Monday, MYC and I had an extremely gratifying encounter at my office. His mouth was everywhere on me and it was divine. I cannot get enough.

Yesterday was all about me. MYC treated me to lunch, where we talked about everything from to work and family to my porn preferences (previously Big Black Cock, but now I have returned to Public Agent). I enjoyed some recreational products with a friend and took advantage of a few moments home alone to pull up one of the cock pics MYC had sent me the previous weekend on my iPad, turn Juan on high and wear my clit OUT! As the waves of pleasure coursed through me, I moaned and writhed, holding nothing back.

A little later, while the kids were out of the house briefly, The Husband directed me to “take your pants off and lay on the bed.” And what did this slut get but another fantastic lick o’ the puss and a fuck!!! Hot damn and happy birthday to me!

The next day, I had a meeting out of town and hit the road early. About 30 minutes into my trip, I received a “good morning” text from MYC saying he was on his way to work. “How far along are you?” he asked. I told him and he replied that we would probably meet each other on the Interstate.

Hmmmmm…what an interesting coincidence. “You know, I need to stop for a cup of coffee,” I said, using Siri to voice text, and indicated I would be exiting at the same town where he would intersect the highway. “Oh, really?!?!” he said.

I found the closest gas station/convenience store to the exit and went in to get an extra large dark-roast coffee, loaded with half and half. “Where r u?” he asked. I responded and minute later, I saw him pull into the lot and park next to my car.

My phone dinged. “Surprise,” it said. You could have knocked me over with a feather, and then tickled my clit with it!!! I walked over to his rolled-down driver-side window and expressed my delight in this unexpected encounter. We chatted for a minute before I began to feel that familiar longing for his cock and I told him so.

“If you have a few minutes, there is a park nearby that I’d like to show you,” he said. “I promise it’s close.”

This unplanned visit was heading in an appealing, possibly public-sex direction!

I followed him about for about a mile to a lovely park on a river. We parked and were disappointed to see a couple of cars already parked there. He pointed to the other side of the lot. “I was going to fuck you in that restroom over there,” he said.

That was not going to work, so we drove down to the next parking area to explore other options. He walked down a concrete path that lead to the river and motioned for me to follow him. The trail curved and ended at a landing a few feet above the riverbank. Although there was an occupied boat ramp and roadway on either side, the trees and bushes provided decent cover.

“Pull down your pants and bend over that rock,” he hissed. The cold stone was a nice sensation, as was the crisp wind off the river on my ass! The next thing I felt was his rock-hard cock searching for my slippery slit, so I reached back and guided him inside of me. After a few hard thrusts, he blew a load, pulled out and zipped up.

“Did that just happen?” I asked. “Yes, it did,” he answered, with a sly smile. We walked back to our cars. I was stunned and pretty much speechless. He had made one of my favorite sex fantasies a reality and it was fucking amazing.

“Now, you think about that as you drive with cum-soaked panties for the next two hours,” he said. We went our separate ways and I barely recall the drive to my destination.

On the way home that afternoon, I slid my fingers down my pants and found sweet relief while going 60 miles per hour down a scenic rural highway. As I neared the town where the rendezvous occurred, I took a call that necessitated taking notes, so I exited and drove down to the park. After the call ended, I walked back to the spot, took a few pics and sent one to MYC.

“Return to the scene of the crime?” he joked. Of course! I needed to get a picture for the blog. He was having a productive day, but it “certainly started out differently than I’m accustomed to!”

Differently, indeed! I could get accustomed to it.

Ever drunk order a Magic Wand for your BFF?

MYC was out of town on business last week and sent me the most delicious pic of his cock, fully erect and sufficiently lubricated. It’s worth repeating that his cock makes me absolutely wild with lust.

It was quite late and everyone else in my house had gone to bed. Sitting in a chair in the far corner of my living room, I pulled up the pic, spread my legs, rubbed and pinched my nipple and quietly fingered myself to climax. It was a much-needed release. I believe he enjoyed the same.

Over the weekend, he enjoyed getting away to his “Paradise”—a friend’s house where he feels one-hundred percent free to be himself and indulge in whichever vices he pleases, including extended dirty texting and pic exchanging sessions with me and mutual self pleasuring. Needless to say, I love it when he goes out of town. More cock pics for Kinky!

And now that I have overcome whatever bizarre reservations I used to have about getting my pussy eaten, I am often overcome at the oddest moments by thoughts of his head between my legs! You know, standing in the check-out line at the grocery store, attending a program at my kids’ school, fucking my husband, sitting at a red light, taking a shower, writing blog posts, breathing…

On Saturday night, I went out drinking with a friend and had planned staying out late at her house on ramping up the kink with MYC. Apparently, the margaritas we had were overly potent because while we were still at the restaurant, I insisted on ordering a Magic Wand for her. Have you ever opened the Amazon app on your phone and drunk ordered a sex toy for your best friend? All I can say is, “beware,” because what comes next may be ugly.

We got back to her house and, long story short, I passed out for a while, then proceeded to be quite ill. She took incredible care of me and made sure I didn’t die, which wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. It was horrific and I apologized over and over again to her. At midnight, she handed me my phone and suggested that I text my husband to say I wouldn’t be home. It took every ounce of energy and concentration I had to compose that message. After what seemed like an eternity, I had composed a complete, properly punctuated sentence, hit send and passed out (again) on her sofa.

I awoke at 7 a.m., totally embarrassed and confused by what had taken place the night before. In 30 years of drinking, nothing like that has ever happened to me and I damn sure never want it to happen again!!! I drove home, brushed my teeth and slid into bed next to the husband, who proceeded to give me a whole-body rub down, which evolved into a full-fledged fuck. A pretty damn good one, at that!

Afterward, I fell into a deep and satisfying sleep. When I finally roused, I realized that I had gone MIA with MYC last night. Oh, the things I had planned to do with him that night (and perhaps include our friends)! So, I issued another round of apologies to MYC and our friends and decided to quite beating myself up about it. There will be other opportunities, I am sure.

Reflection

Where have the last two weeks gone?! Professional, family and volunteer obligations have kept me super busy. It’s nice to have a little time to reflect and write!

Last week started out with a quick and dirty rendezvous with MYC on the conference room table and ended with a much more in-depth encounter at the apartment.

On Monday, I was preparing to be out of town for three days and he indicated he had time to “help me” that morning. If anything can help me, it’s his mouth on my clit!

I needed to run by the office to pick up a few things before hitting the road, so we agreed to meet there.

He is so good to his favorite slut. Always willing to help and provide instruction, which is often needed.

He left his office and I departed from my house, arriving at my office before he did, anxious to hear from him. Shortly, I received the awaited text.

I did as he said and he treated me to an amazing send off. There’s no denying it. I am so spoiled. And greedy for more. You would be, too. I promise.

Fast forward to Thursday afternoon. I enjoyed a little “free time” without my kids before heading down to volunteer at the neighborhood pool. MYC and I enjoyed a kinky text exchange in between me selling sodas, ice cream and candy to kids with wet dollar bills.

He said he might need to jack off when he got home. Needless to say, I thought that was a bad idea. How could he waste a load?! I wanted it!!! At this point, it’s all about me, although he does not go without gratification.

For one reason or another, The Husband did not benefit from my heightened state of arousal. Perhaps he was out of town. Hell, I don’t remember. In fact, I can’t remember the last time we fucked. We just haven’t had or made the opportunity. Maybe he will get lucky tonight, because writing is getting me charged up.

On Friday, it appeared that MYC had a brief window to play. The apartment was safe, so we met there after lunch.

Apparently, he intended to follow through on the idea of an ass fuck. Hell, yes! But the pain is almost too much to bear. It started with me on the sofa, legs spread, ready for his mouth. He licked sucked and I begged him to share. He rarely indulges me, so I savor it when he lets me taste my juices on his tongue. It’s heavenly.

“Damn, you are sexy,” he whispered, as he pulled away and thrust his cock into me. “Let’s fuck that ass now,” he said.

“Please don’t hurt me,” I pleaded. He went to the bathroom and pumped the lotion bottle. I followed and did the same. “Bend over,” he hissed, “and relax.” With my face inches from the mirror, I could see his reflection as he slowly and gently guided his cock into me.

It was astonishingly pleasurable. Although I often like the sharp sensation of his cock as it penetrates, this was subtle and scratched an itch I’m not sure I knew I had! I watched him fuck me, another delight. He grabbed a handful of hair, pulled my head back, groaned and blew his load. Simply sublime.

Upon reflection, borderline supernatural.

Take-off text

Before MYC would send me a cock pic on Wednesday, he told me, “You can’t keep it…” Fuck. I promised to be a good girl and was rewarded with a close up of his right hand wrapped around that delicious shaft. After a crescendo of dirty texts, he blew a load in his hotel room and I slipped into bed next to my sleeping husband and used my magic bullet to find quiet release.

Thursday night’s text exchange with MYC heated me to a fever pitch, ending with The Husband getting a phenomenal cock sucking, another magic bullet session for me and a fine fuck. Pure collateral damage.

Just as MYC’s plane was taking off for home on Friday afternoon, he texted, “I wish I had an extra 10 minutes,” ostensibly to hook up for a blow job. But he had a dinner to attend and needed to hit the road as soon as he landed.

“Fuck you,” I replied, and followed up with “5?!” and “3?!” Hell, I could rock his world in two minutes.

Alas, no MYC minutes for Kinky. For now…

My call

I NEED ANOTHER NIGHT IN A REAL BED WITH HIM SOON…

About 9:30 Tuesday night, I was stumbling in the hotel hallway with a glass of wine in one hand and my heels in the other, trying to find the patio so I could smoke (drunk=smoking). One of the hotel staff pointed me in the right direction. During the course of the evening (a reception, banquet and after party wrapping up a two-day convention), I consumed at least one bottle of Cabernet and ate very little. The casino-themed after party was quite entertaining, even though I absolutely suck at Black Jack. It took all of 15 minutes for me to lose everything.

When the dealer swept up my losing cards and last blue chips, I decided it was time to call it a night. On the way out the door, I tapped MYC on the shoulder and told him I was leaving (did I forget to mention he was there?). “Where are you going?” he asked. “My room,” I said. A few steps from the elevator, the urge to smoke hit me and I headed in the general direction of the patio (based on my recent visit to this hotel in May).

Thankfully, no one else was there. I grabbed one of the free-standing outdoor ash receptacles and dragged it over to a chair, where I collapsed and lit my smoke. MYC texted me that he was already in his room and invited me to come see him. “I have to smoke my last two cigarettes NOW,” I responded. Damn, it was close to impossible to type with one hand and smoke with the other, while seriously intoxicated. Half way into cigarette number one, however, I got the hang of it.

As soon as I took the last drag on cigarette number two, I told him I was headed his way and confirmed his room number. When I stepped off the elevator, I had no idea which way to go and I wasn’t wearing my glasses, so I couldn’t see worth a shit! Suddenly, a door opened a few feet away. I walked and stood in the doorway, but no one was there. “Come in,” a familiar voice said, from behind the door.

We sat on the sofa and chatted a little. I was so drunk, that when he asked me questions, I had to sit and think a long time before I could answer with any certainty. And I am sure I was slurring my words. I was a hot mess.

After a few minutes, I reached over and lightly ran my fingertips across the top of his shorts, where I could see his cock beginning to bulge. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck, Kinky,” he groaned. “Let’s go to the back,” he said and walked toward the bedroom. I gladly followed. He pulled back the duvet and quickly took off his clothes. “Be naked with me,” he appealed. I was so fucking drunk I didn’t think twice about slipping out of my short black dress, bra and panties and joining him on the bed.

“It has been a while since we had a hotel bed,” he noted. Yep. The last time was about four or five years ago, also during a conference. Funny how I can remember that encounter like it was yesterday, but I am kinda fuzzy about this one.

My long necklace fell across his stomach as I lowered my mouth onto his swollen cock. I tried to take all of it, but couldn’t…so I kept trying. Can’t get enough of that cock. True story. Even after seven years, it drives me wild. Seriously mad.

He determined it was his turn to play with me and promptly had his head between my legs, delighting me with his talented tongue and fingers, producing the genesis of much-needed relief. I wanted to taste my pussy with his tongue in my mouth and savor his cock inside of me when I climaxed.

“I know you want me to kiss you,” he said, rather authoritatively and almost teasingly, as he raised above me. “Rub that clit for me,” he demanded and kissed and entered me deeply when I complied. Grabbing the backs of my knees and pushing my legs further apart, he pounded and I stroked…completing our release.

In the hours that followed, we talked, stroked, fooled around a little, touched and even slept. Being in bed with him was beyond serene and he said leaving or staying was “my call.” A little before 1 a.m., I decided it was time for me to take the “walk of shame” back to my room on the other side of the hotel. No contentment was worth being seen by any number of people we both know leaving his room the next morning in the atrium-style building.

I leaned over, kissed his shoulder and said I was leaving. He roused and hugged me goodbye. Collecting my heels from the TV table, I wandered into the atrium, hit the down button on the elevator and somehow made it back to my room.

My dress, legs and heels…hours before the walk of shame.

After an unsuccessful night of trying to sleep, I went downstairs for the “gourmet breakfast buffet” and forced down a little yogurt and granola and half a cup of coffee. Probably still a little drunk, I went back to my room, tried to make myself somewhat presentable and finished packing. Without speaking a word to anyone, I checked out and departed.

The reason I attended the conference was to receive a work-related award, so I decided to take Wednesday as a reward and enjoy myself before driving three hours home. This included visiting an extraordinary art museum and meeting a college friend for lunch. Both helped get my head and feet back on the ground before transitioning back to reality.

As soon as I hit the road after lunch, the phone rang. It was the Hot Attorney. “Hey, I’m at the law school,” he said, with what sounded like a big grin. “Well, I’m three hours away,” I said, sincerely disappointed. Since he “discovered” the adjunct faculty office, he has called me every day (except Tuesday, when he knew I was traveling)! Someone can’t get enough. He was leaving Thursday morning with his family for a mini-vacation and really wanted to see me. We chatted for a while and I promised I would see him when he returned and that it would be worth the wait. That seemed to satisfy him. When the time comes, I am sure he will be satisfied.

When I arrived home, things were tense and stressful with The Husband. He has been in a terrible funk over a job-related situation. It has been difficult for all of us. Often, fucking is one of his coping mechanisms, but that hasn’t been the case this time. Today was shaping up to be another one of distance and disgruntledness. We attended a retirement reception in the afternoon, which, thankfully, brightened his mood. When we got home, I sent the kids to the neighborhood pool. While changing clothes, I periodically walked through the living room, where he was sitting, wearing only my heels. After the last trip, he followed me to the bedroom. I located one of our spanking toys and began tapping his cock through his pants. Before long, I was on the bed, ass high in the air, getting a much-deserved swatting. He was quite dominant and informed me that he had watched spanking porn while I was gone on a girls’ trip last weekend. We took turns turning each others asses nice and pink before he had to fuck me. “Slap my ass,” I groaned. “Call me a ‘fucking whore.'” He obliged and exploded.

I grabbed Juan and went to work on myself. Things weren’t going well, so my mind went through what seemed like a hundred real and imagined images before landing on something that did the trick…a fabricated vision of sharing MYC’s cock with a mutual friend. Success.

Lunch

Back in the day, when the kids were little, had an early bedtime and slept like rock, The Husband and I could get kinky late at night. Now that we have teenagers, they’re up later than we are and since we live in a small house, I can’t fire up Juan (my beloved Magic Wand) without it sounding like there’s a margarita machine in my bedroom.

The flip side is teenagers are late, dead-to-the-world sleepers, so we often fool around in the early morning, which works pretty well! The only drawback is that it’s always in our room and rather routine/predictable.

Frankly, I think we each spend more time watching porn and masturbating when alone in the house or on business trips. In fact, we usually compare notes after the fact. “I only jacked off twice on that trip…” or “I came three times in 20 minutes with Juan while you all were at soccer the other day.”

Earlier this week, we had to shuffle vehicles and found ourselves at home (alone) during lunch. After about 10 minutes, the realization set in that we could do whatever we wanted. Woo hoo! Standing with my back to him, I pressed my ass into his growing budge and began blindly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his jeans. He groaned as I got on my knees and began licking and sucking his cock for a very long time.

When I rose, he pushed my shoulders into the kitchen island, grabbed my ass and found his way inside of me. After several hard thrusts, he suggested that we go “break in” the new sofa. “Excellent idea,” I exclaimed. And break it in, we did.

We may have to have lunch at home more often.