Tearing Down the Fence

My name is Amanda, and Caveman is my man.  I have read some of the stories, but have never posted. 

After some encouragement, we decided to share this story. So here goes…

Our two dogs needed a yard and an opportunity to run free without upsetting the neighbors. So we decided that we would put in a fence. My husband, as he usually does with home projects, jumped head-first into this task without hesitation, even though the task was going to require quite a bit of hard, physical labor.

The day he started was expected to be a very hot summer day. Not to be sidetracked, my husband got to work first thing in the morning. It was going to be too hot for me outside, so I decided to concentrate my work on the inside chores. 

Every now and then I would go out to check his progress and bring my husband something to drink. He had started the day wearing a pair of green work shorts and worn T-shirt. My husband is not a power lifter, but he is strong and well-defined muscularly. By mid-day, his shirt was off, and he was wearing an old ball cap to shade his face from the sun. When I took him a cool drink, I noticed that small beads of sweat were running down his chest and across his tight abs, much like the beads running down the sides of his glass of tea.  “Wow, he is looking real good,” I thought to myself as I stood there watching him gulp it down.

When I got back inside, I stood at the kitchen sink watching him through the window. He was raising the post-hole digger above his head and ramming it into the ground. The muscles in his back and arms would tighten and release as he continued his digging. Every now and then, he would bend over to measure the depth of the holes. I am not sure how long I was staring, but it was long enough for me to get lost in the watching. At some point, I caught myself watching and realized, nervously, that my mind was not just watching my man dig holes but thinking about seeing his same body over me thrusting with the same vigor into my deeper being. When I realized this, I was surprised that I was thinking this way.It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy our sex life, but such thoughts rarely came into my mind in the middle of the day. Now aware of what I was thinking, I put the thought out of my mind and went about my work.

My next task was to begin cleaning the bathrooms. It is embarrassing to admit now, but my mind began to wander back to my man.  Something about rubbing down the hard porcelain of the tub took me back to him. I think it was the image of his hard body, his raw power, and the hard stiffness of the porcelain as I rubbed it. The more I rubbed, the more I thought, and despite trying to focus on my work, a slight tingle came to life in my womanhood.

At this point, I decided my man needed a drink and I went to get him another one. Again, I paused at the window to check his progress.  He had begun placing the posts in their holes. He was carrying the large post on his shoulder and had to stop to set it down vertically on the ground. He stood there, the post standing next to him, the top resting against his shoulder. At that moment, he reached up to pull off his cap and wipe his brow was a small hand towel he had hanging from his pocket. There was something so manly about his posture, his work, and his actions. “I love that man,” I thought. 

By noon, he had most of the post holes dug and the posts ready to be set in concrete. After a break for lunch, he got back to work. I left him and went back inside. My duties took me to the second floor rooms. From the upstairs bathroom, I could look down on our large back yard. Of course, when I gazed out, I could see that my husband was still busy at his work, now rolling wheel barrow loads of concrete across the yard. As his muscular arms and body managed the heavy loads, I was fixated on him. His strength, his beautiful body, his tanned skin, and his manly way captivated me.

I was definitely sexually aroused. I had not been able to keep focused on my work. At this point, my womanhood not only tingled, it was more than just a little damp. I could feel my nipples hardened beneath my bra. Instinctively I brought my hand up and cupped my breast.  Without knowing it, I shifted slightly, moving my legs wider apart. I pressed against my shirt enough to feel the pressure against my shirt and the hardened nipple beneath. I couldn’t believe how excited I was. I had a strong urge inside me, it wasn’t like me to want to touch myself but watching through the widow at my very handsome man was stirring a strong passion inside me.”Why not,” I thought to myself, trying to talk myself into going further. 

Just recently, my husband had brought up the topic of masturbation.The memory of that conversation flooded over me. He admitted that, during long separations, he did this to help manage his sexual needs. He explained how he focused his thoughts on our love together when he was “getting off,” as he described it.  He said that he thought it important for me to know that he was doing this. He also wondered if I ever masturbated. “No, never,” I was quick to respond. I had felt guilty later for having said this because I had been less than truthful. Honestly, I had masturbated a few times as a teenager and even when we dated, especially after a passionate date. We had been pure during our courtship, but had let our hands wander, albeit briefly, during some late evenings. After some of those evenings, I spent some time alone exploring my body, imagining what might have been. In truth, I had experienced what I later confirmed was an orgasm. “I just couldn’t tell him that,” I had rationalized afterwards, “what would he think of me?” 

In that conversation, my husband asked if I would be open to touching myself while making love with him. I had hesitated. “I’m not sure, honey,” I had said. “I don’t know if I could do that. I appreciate your sharing with me,” I continued, “of course it is fine for you to do that when you are away. I understand your need and want you to be free to meet those needs. I don’t want secrets between us so I am glad you told me.When you do that in the future please tell me, I want us to be open with each other.”  He tried to continue the conversation deeper, but I miss-directed him. He knew me well enough to know that I was trying to not go deeper in this discussion. In love, he guided the conversation away. 

Masturbation, “getting off”, sexual needs, sharing mutual self-pleasuring…now those thoughts were racing through my mind. As I continued to watch my man hard at work, I made my decision. “I need to expand my boundaries. This is the time to explore this idea,” my thoughts continued. A wave of inhibition overcame me. “I want to learn more about what I like, I want to be free to explore my body, I want to become comfortable enough to share this with my husband, I want to experience sexual freedom and share that with my partner.” 

I lifted my shirt over my head and undid my bra, letting it drop to the floor. I began to circle my hands around my breast…imagining they were my man’s hands. I noticed how hard my nipples were, too sensitive to touch, but the areas near my nipples felt wonderful. “Um, this feels so good,” I thought as I watched my husband lifting the wheel barrow up, sliding my hands under the curve of my breast as the wet concrete slid into the hole. “If only he would stop to look up, he might see me standing in the shadow of the window,” I wondered, excited by the thought of getting caught. I continued exploring my chest and breasts with my hands, pausing slowly as I ran my fingertips near, but not on, my nipples. The lips of my womanhood were tingling; and, even without touching, I knew my pussy was very wet.  

Reaching down with one hand, I could feel the edge of my short skirt sliding up my thigh as my hand began to lightly touch the top and inside of my thigh. Still lightly caressing my breasts with one hand, I continued exploring the sensations of touching my thighs with the other. Standing there, I could see my husband, back to me, continuing his work. The sun was still bright and hot. From above the yard, I could see his sweat dripping down his strong back. I was startled from my trance as my fingers traced lightly over the surface of my panties, slowly walking over them along the swollen inner lips of my womanhood. “Um,” I thought, “my, I am wet….this feels so nice.”  I continued to run my fingers along the lips and the inner parts of my thighs.

From my position, I could look down, but if someone had been looking they would have only seen my upper body. There were no other 2-story houses on this side of the street and the lots were large in any case. I was invisible to the world; and, in some ways was pulling out of it. Apart from the enjoyable view of my muscular, hard-working man, I was in my own place.

My left hand was pressing harder on my lips, applying enough pressure to slip my finger deeper between the inner swollen lips, restrained by my panties. I shifted my legs slightly so my lips parted slightly. For the first time, I let my finger rise up and over my clit. “Um…that is nice.” 

“Thump, thump, thump,” pounded the hammer as my husband set another stake to hold the latest post that had been set. I froze, as my husband turned and looked up at me. Our eyes met, or so I thought. He then turned and continued his work. Because of the sun and room shadow, I realized I could easily see out, but from outside, I was invisible. This near run-in with discovery, followed by the realization that I was invisible, strengthened my new-found inhibition and passion. 

I was still standing near the window, but one leg was now resting on the top of the small chair that was in front of the vanity. My skirt was above my waist and my hand was now working its magic inside my sex-soaked panties. I was still fondling my breasts, but was now lightly squeezing my stiff nipple. I was now aware of the strong aroma of my sex, adding to my pleasure. I continued to watch my husband labor in the sun, but was less aware of his labor and more aware of my own.

“My pussy is so warm and wet,” I thought to myself, “I am really enjoying this.” For the first time, I realized when I turned to place my leg on the chair I was now visible in the mirror. Surprisingly, this realization did not cause me to hesitate. In fact, the image of my half naked body, skirt pulled up to my waist, my erect nipples being rolled between the fingers of one hand while the fingers of the other were dancing under the layer of my wet stained panties, was exciting me. As I continued to explore my body, I imagined that my husband was watching me. This thought further fueled my self-exploration.

Pausing, as if putting on a show for my husband, I decided to remove my panties in a sensual way, using two hands I pulled them half way down. At that point, I turned a bent over. I couldn’t see him, but I knew my man was enjoying the view. I then pulled the panties down and off, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Turning, I leaned into the mirror, bringing my pussy to rest on the edge of the counter.  “Um…oh…that feels nice,” I said softly to myself, grinding my lips and clit into the hard curve of the edge. All the while, I was watching myself. Shifting to the center of the mirror, my skirt fell from my waste, covering my woman hood. 

“Want this off, baby?” I said softly to my imaginary husband as I pulled the skirt down. I was now totally naked.

In the mirror, I noticed my neatly trimmed, but hairy pussy was dripping with sex. My breasts were firm and the nipples erect. Exploring my body with their light touch, my fingers worked across all of the reachable parts of my body–my lovers’ hands dancing across my skin.  “I am all yours,” I said as my fingers began to probe into my womanhood. “OH…um….yeah, run your finger along the top inside edge of my pussy,” I directed him.”Yeah, rub it slowly, lover. Oh, use two fingers.” I was so wet and ready my two fingers easily slid into my pussy. “Is this what it means to get off?” I teased. “Do you like what you see? Enjoying this show, my lover” 

 I continued to make love to the mirror. My body was hot and my passion growing. The smell of sex filled the room. I needed something more; I needed my lovers’ manhood. Without really thinking about it, I reached in the drawer for something, anything to fulfill my longing (It is embarrassing now to mention it, but at that moment, it was what was needed). I stood upright in front of the mirror as I ran the hard handle of the brush across my clit and into the folds of my womanhood. With one hand, I reached down to rub my clit as the brush handle went deep inside me. Surprisingly, the ribs on the handle felt amazing as they slid through my hole. I was rapidly working my clit with my left hand, as I probed and stroked with my right. I don’t actually know how long I did this, all I know is I was making love to myself and my mirrored lover. I was rubbing and pumping and watching. My juices were sliding down the handle and my legs. My fingers were frantically rubbing hard across my clit. I wanted that release. I wanted to please my lover. I wanted him to see me fully excited, engaged, and enjoying myself. I loved watching myself in the mirror, “getting off.””Girl, you look hot,” I thought. “OH…OH…Ah…umm…Oh..,” escaped my lips as my orgasm overflowed from my lips. Again, and again, my body shuddered as waves of several long and deep orgasms overtook me. 

As I slowly returned to this world, I heard, “Thump, Thump, Thump,” echo up from the yard. “Yes, my lover has been busy today.  I hope he has left something for tonight.” As I slowly re-dressed myself, I decided to leave my panties off, not wanting to so quickly let go of my new freedom. I realized something at that moment:  while my lover was busy building a fence outside, I was busy tearing down another one inside.

Click on a heart to thank the author of this story!

Average rating / 5. Vote count:

No votes so far! Be the first to rate this post.

We are sorry that this post was not one of your favorites!

Help us understand why.

17 replies
  1. Pook69 says:

    Wow. What a great story. My manhood came to full attention as I read this. Then I thought about watching my wife play with herself with juices glistening over her shortly trimmed pussy. I can’t wait to hear more. Surely we will get a part two!!??!!

    • Amanda says:

      Part 2…we’ll see. In the meantime, share the story with your bride and maybe she will be inspired herself. Perhaps she already has and just hasn’t been brave enough to share it with you. Actually, it was years before Caveman learned why I was always so complementary of his fence, always waring a smile as we gazed on it or discussed it. The best part 2, for you I hope, will be when you wife shares a similar memory with you, or demonstrates her self-discovery in your presence. I suspect that when she does, she will be plenty wet, with her “juices glistening over her short trimmed pussy!,” just like you want it. As for me, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

  2. smitten and wife says:

    Very arousing and hot. Your thoughts were on your husband’s total being, his manliness, his strength, his hard working for the cause of your marriage.
    God bless you.

    • Amanda says:

      I am glad that you found my story hot and arousing. The memories of it as I wrote certainly took me back. As I wrote it, I hoped that many would read it, especially women, and be aroused into action. Share with your husband what the two of you desire, be honest with each other, and grow sexually towards each other.

  3. Lovinghusband says:

    Dear Caveman’s wife,

    Thank you for telling of your story of freedom – that was still in the context of thinking on your husband and you. I love how, even though you had just had an orgasm – your desire right after getting dressed was to have more sex with your husband that night! In other words, your satisfaction from a spouse-focused masturbation session – didn’t squash your desire for him, it enhanced it. I must say that this is our wonderful experience, too!

    The world’s self-only focused masturbation (that often uses porn) – seems to make each one find a “satisfaction” that does NOT promote wanting more with their spouse. This so sad – and it does not need to be this way! God has a better way – as you showed us!

    Your story is the beautiful, godly alternative – where the purposed focus on the intimacy is with your spouse. You did a wonderfully articulate job of showing us all just how preeminent your husband was in your horny thoughts! It was hot and motivating.

    This honored God, your husband – and I hope…encouraged all who read this to copy your example. God bless you both – and have continued fun in your family “cave”!

    • Amanda says:

      Lovinghusband, thank you for you kind words. I do hope it will encourage others. I think God wants to bless each marriage in so many more ways than we can know, not the least of which is sexually. If my words help others to be more open, more honest, more real, and more passionate, and more willing to share all of themselves with their mate, then I think I may have done a service. I am still growing in my sexual expression for my husband and I hope I will remain open to do so.

  4. hornyGG says:

    Amanda, great story! Very Hot! Made me quite hot. Can’t wait till my hubby gets home tomorrow! He is in for a naughty surprise. Hehe!

    Thanks for the story. God bless you and caveman! I love ya’lls stories. Stay horny!

  5. Christiancouple says:

    Story was awesome. I have experienced in the past few weeks that God has showed me how He honors sex in a marriage that has been put together by Him and Him alone. My husband is AWESOME in our bedroom. Thanks for sharing this AWESOME story. ❤️❤️❤️

  6. Todd Phillips says:

    That was a great story. It made me hard thinking if my wife has ever done the same. I often fantasize of watching my wife pleasure herself, but we had a similar conversation where she admitted that she doesn’t like to play with herself and would feel guilty if she did. I would love for her to break down her fence. Any advice??

Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. My Homepage says:

    … [Trackback]

    […] Read More: marriageheat.com/2014/03/28/tearing-fence/ […]

  2. […] read the latest story. Since I had time on my hands, I clicked some older posts. I found my way to Tearing Down the Fence. Tearing Down the Fence is a story about a woman married to a hard working man. She was expanding […]

  3. […] read the latest story. Since I had time on my hands, I clicked some older posts. I found my way to Tearing Down the Fence. Tearing Down the Fence is a story about a woman married to a hard working man. She was expanding […]

Leave a Reply

Want to join the discussion?
Feel free to contribute!

Leave a Reply