My hope is that this will be a sexy blog that provides an honest look at incredibly sensual and exciting sex within a marriage, and how even if you lose each other for a while, you can come back bigger and better than ever. This initial post is a bit reflective--where we were and how we got here. I promise there will be sex. I can't promise that there will be pictures of us.
We've been together nearly 20 years. We dated for a few years before we got married and our sex life was good, punctuated by moments of greatness. We never had an incredibly high level of frequency, though. And from there it went downhill. Sometimes bad shit happens in a marriage, and no matter what it is, it takes its toll. The toll it took for us was to curtail the fucking. To all outward appearances we had a perfect union. Goes to show that you never know what happens behind the bedroom door. It wouldn't be going too far to say that we had a nearly sexless marriage for going on 10 years.
But there's a happy ending. I am a lucky woman. I know that D could have left me and would have had good reason. The only lover he had for years was his hand, and the only inspiration he had was porn. I certainly wasn't there for him. I didn't want to be, for a variety of reasons. Eventually a medical procedure changed our lives. We didn't know that it would happen, or that it would make the difference that it did.
I don't know exactly when the buildup began, but sometime early last year I started to have...feelings. And then I felt like reading sexy stuff. And then I wanted to touch myself again. Some wonderful blogs provided inspiration. And finally I wanted to reconnect with the sexy man who'd been sharing my bed all those years. And then I felt like a middle schooler with no game or clue. And I'd trained him not to approach me. So, impasse.
I circled him for weeks. I wore the few pieces of sexy lingerie I had. I pruned the v-spot. He didn't notice. So I started to snuggle him on the couch with more frequency. That didn't really bring any results. In April we were working our way through an early season of The Wire. Mmmm, Stringer Bell. Mmmm, Kima Greggs. And one night after the episode I just made my move.
The show ended and I began to stroke his thigh through his jeans. I pulled myself into his lap and began to grind as I kissed him like I needed him for the first time in ages. Hands, shirts, shorts, skirt. We were slightly unhinged. It was like our first time all over again. I slid his hard cock along my slit, soaking him in the wetness that really had been building for weeks. Finally, I straddled him and we began to fuck for the first time in years. It was hard. I was out of shape for such fucking, and I was in the position to do all the physical work.
To his credit he just let me do what I needed to do and enjoyed it. He didn't ask why, or why tonight, or did I really mean it. After he came I slid off his lap and sucked his cock clean. That was practically reflex. How had I forgotten how hot and intimate that moment could be? How had I forgotten what all of it could be?
The next day, when I could barely walk I was so sore, he tentatively asked if there was a chance we'd get to do "it" again, preferably sometime soon. Boy had no idea. Something broke inside me that night and whatever feelings started to flow again thankfully have only become stronger. Since April we've fucked at least a couple hundred times, using our average of 5 times a week as a guide. And we're still making up for lost time.
It's always been each other. And it always will be. I really think we've been through the worst and come out the other side fucking and sucking with the best. More than we ever did at our height in the early days. We may be an old married couple, but we're having the hottest, dirtiest, most exciting sex of our lives. And I can't wait to tell you all about it.