My beautiful wife and I traveled for our annual anniversary weekend to a mountain cabin in North Carolina. We both liked that the cabin was remote and secluded on its own private lake. Mary and I could do whatever we wanted and not be concerned we would disturb neighbors. After we arrived, we showered and changed, then grilled dinner on the screened-in porch. We ate dinner while watching the sunset. Mary took the dishes inside while I poured more wine.
She rejoined me in the swing as dusk settled on the private pond in front of the cabin and the frogs began their evening song. We reminisced about our wedding day, our marriage, and especially about the past three years. That was about the time I became convicted that God wanted to change my heart about our marriage and our sexual relationship.
I had shared my heart with Mary, acknowledging my self-centeredness in our relationship, especially in the marriage bed. Shortly after that, we had spent a week in this very cabin that marked the beginning of Mary’s sexual awakening. It wasn’t her fault that our lovemaking the first 35 or so years of marriage had been mediocre for her.
The fact was, for most of those years, I was ignorant of her body and what it takes to pleasure a woman. Couple that with my natural self-centeredness, and sex had become more of a perfunctory obligation than an experience she anticipated. That week, we made love at least once a day. I introduced several new toys that I hoped would increase her enjoyment of our sexual union.
God had truly worked some miracles in our hearts since that week in the cabin. The journey of mutual discovery we had been on had resulted in an awakening of her senses and her sexuality. She seemed really surprised that she could enjoy something that for so many years had not been that enjoyable.
Even more, we were now embracing an intimacy that was not only physical but extended to all areas of our lives. Though now in our early sixties, we are more in love with each other each day that passes. We are more connected, growing more vulnerable and open to each other. We have become soulmates.
As the sun finally disappeared behind the trees, we went into the cabin to clean the dishes. After making love, we fell asleep naked. This wasn’t an option at home for much of our marriage, raising six kids. But without the threat of children barging into our room, we took advantage of the privacy.
I awakened after several hours of sleep, propped myself against the headboard and just sat there watching Mary as she slept next to me. She had rolled over onto her back with her left hand resting on her stomach, wearing the ring that I put on her finger over 40 years ago. Her face was turned towards her left, in my direction, and she looked so lovely and peaceful.
I’ve learned over the years that warmth is important to her. Since it was a crisp early autumn night, I had cranked up the heat so she would be comfortable. She always likes to have a sheet (or two) covering her while sleeping, but the sheet had fallen down to her abdomen where her hand rested. I took the opportunity to just watch her.
My eyes moved from her face to her chest. Her breasts, appearing golden in the soft light that filled the room, rose and fell with each breath she took. I didn’t think, on our wedding night, that I’d ever get enough of them. I remembered the first time I accidentally brushed against her breast while we were dating and how intoxicating that felt. Then I thought of how I had seen her naked body the very first time on our wedding night, so many years ago, and how I was finally allowed to touch her breasts with my hands and lips without guilt or shame. What a privilege that was!
In those early years of marriage, before we had children, Mary seemed to get a lot of pleasure from me fondling and sucking on her breasts. I contemplated with wonder how God had blessed her fountains with an abundance to nourish all six of our kids. Once the babies came and she started nursing, much of her enjoyment of my breast stimulation evaporated. When her milk came in, breast and nipple stimulation would irritate her already sore nipples.
There were exceptions though. Occasionally, she would become engorged, especially if she had been away from the baby a few hours and would ask me to “help” relieve her pressure. As a good husband, I always dutifully complied.
One of those occasions, in particular, was memorable. She had gone on an all-day women’s retreat, and when she returned, she was in pain. I had fed the baby from the milk she had expressed before she left, and the child was now asleep. Mary begged me to alleviate the pressure.
As she undressed, I couldn’t take my eyes off her engorged breasts. I spent at least ten minutes on each breast, savoring the exquisite taste of her liquid gold but also using my tongue in a way that the baby didn’t. That night, we had both become highly aroused, so much so that she orgasmed almost as soon as I entered her without any clit stimulation—the only time I remember that happening!
As the waves of pleasure washed over her, the swollen mounds shot hot streams of delicious milk over our bodies with each orgasmic wave. We both laughed as I lapped all of it up. It has been over 20 years since she stopped nursing our last baby, and her breasts seem to be reawakening to enjoy my touch. Yes, her breasts have a history, and as I lay there watching her sleep, I felt my body begin to stir at these memories.
My eyes traveled down to her stomach, and I remembered how it had swelled with each of her pregnancies as she bore our children. With her abdominal muscles weakened, she no longer had the flat belly of our early years of marriage. The curves of her stomach remind me of how our love helped to create those children. They are the mark of her fertility and motherhood.
She frequently thinks of herself as unattractive, that her body is average. I’ve done my best to reassure her with words that, in my eyes, she has always been a beautiful, attractive woman. And now that I gaze at her form again, the idea that any part of her could be a turn off for me seemed more preposterous than it had been when she had mentioned it in the past.
Every part of her was—and remains—beautiful to me. I gently pulled back the sheet and looked at the curly dark hair between her legs, remembering the first time I ever touched her there. Just looking at that part of her aroused me even more than I already was. As I lay there watching her sleep, my mind replayed the evening before:
We were cleaning up the dishes last night when Mary suddenly wrapped her arms around me and started nibbling on my earlobe. I’d been semi-hard for a while by then, but that nibbling instantly made my cock rock hard. I pulled her close and kissed her aggressively. After a few minutes, I pulled away slightly and just looked at her.
“I still can’t believe you are all mine,” I exclaimed.
She smiled at me. “I love you, George…so much. Now I want you to undress me.”
Happy to oblige her, I let her go long enough to unbutton her blouse and pushed it off her shoulders. Then I pulled her jeans down, revealing a matching black lace bra and panty set. She must have planned this little surprise for me before we left. I hadn’t seen these before, and she looked very sexy in them. The low-cut bra barely held in her breasts.
“Let me help you with that bra,” I said.
She stopped me before I could undo her bra.
“Before you do that, I need to do something about the fact that you are wearing too many clothes, mister.”
She unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it off. Putting her hands on my abs, she ran them up and all over my chest. She leaned in and starting kissing me along the collarbone—the easiest place for her to reach due to our height difference. I shuddered and again tried to undo her bra, but she pulled away and stopped me once more.
“Pants off, first.”
Locking her gaze with mine, she undid my belt and pants, pushed them and my briefs down with one motion. Then she stood back to admire me.
“Now who’s wearing too many clothes?” I asked.
She reached up to hold my face in her hands.
“You’re so handsome, and you turn me on,” she murmured as she gently kissed me, holding on to my lower lip with her lips ever so slightly. “I’ve not told you that enough over the years.”
Her hands moved down to my chest, playing briefly with my nipples, which sent my cock from just hard to throbbing. She then ran her hands down to my stomach, my hips, and then—oh, have mercy!—she gently grasped my cock. I groaned with pleasure.
“Ohhh…it’s so big! This is going to really stretch me, and it always feels so good,” she purred.
As she played with my penis, she finally allowed me to reach around her and unhook her bra. It fell away, revealing her tits in all their luscious glory. I put my hands on them, cupping them both and massaging them, feeling her nipples grow hard. I pinched and twiddled them a bit, eliciting some quiet moans as she closed her eyes.
“My knees feel weak. Let’s lie down,” she murmured as she pulled away and moved to the bed.
I stood for a moment, looking at her glorious, curvy body still adorned by the black panties before I lay down next to her.
“How about I take these off for you?” I asked.
“I wish you would,” was her reply.
I quickly slid them off of her and marveled at her mound. I’ve seen that bushy mound between her legs thousands of times over the years, but I always stir at the sight. To tease me a little, she squeezed her boobs together with her hands and said, “These girls are lonely and would like your attention.”
I took the hint and covered one of them with my mouth. I sucked, licked, and tweaked her nipples with my tongue as I knelt over her and cupped the other creamy mound with my hand. I alternated sucking and nibbling each breast until I heard an “Ohhhhhh” escaped from deep inside of her.
“I had forgotten how good that feels” she exclaimed.
I decided to step it up and moved my hand to that patch of dark curly hair between her legs. To my surprise, she was already wet. I gently teased her clit with my thumb as another finger probed her hot, wet pussy. Meanwhile, I continued to suck on her nipples, which had grown quite firm. Her breathing quickened.
This was so uncharacteristic of Mary. She is normally very quiet, passive, and non-verbal in our lovemaking. Don’t get me wrong: she has always been a tremendous lover, but it usually depended on me getting her engine started. As her awakening journey continued, it was apparent that she had been planning and fantasizing about tonight. She had purchased the bra and panty set; she had initiated this encounter, and now she was more turned on than I could remember.
She reached down and grasped my cock, and growled, “I want you inside me. NOW!”
She opened her legs and pulled me so that I was laying on top of her. I held my cock in my hand and ran it up and down her vulva, from her clit to her hot vagina, and back again. She writhed.
“Now!” she commanded. I obeyed, plunging my cock deep into her pussy.
When I entered her, I held still for a moment to allow her to just enjoy being filled by me. We felt complete, one flesh as God had intended. Her eyes never left my face. We remained still for a few minutes more while I reveled in the feeling of being inside of her. I couldn’t believe how well we fit together; I felt like I was truly home, as though I had entered a holy place. It was as though I was a high priest who had entered the holy of holies.
In fact, our sexual union does imitate the union of the Holy Trinity. How right that we consummate our love and renew those vows we made on our wedding day through this most sacred union. These thoughts quickly raced through my mind as I prayed silently while we were locked together.
She wrapped her legs around my thighs and grabbed my ass, pulling me even deeper, and I began slowly thrusting. It took everything I had to not just pound her hard, but I knew we didn’t have to hurry. I took control and continued to thrust into her rhythmically while I bent my head down and began running my tongue over and around her hardened nipples. After a while, I pulled out and slid down between her legs.
I kissed and lightly sucked on her swollen lips on both sides, moving closer to the source of her heat. A low soft moan escaped her lips as I slowly and lovingly kissed, licked, and sucked her swollen labia. I was having trouble controlling my arousal but reminded myself this was not about me, it was my gift to her. Tonight she would receive the best I could give her.
I positioned my mouth in anticipation of my first taste of her. Flattening my tongue and pressed it into the very bottom of her vagina. Her mouth opened, and she sighed; her eyes remained closed. She pressed her hips up, and my tongue slipped inside her. My penis pulsed and jerked as her flavor, her sweet nectar—the exquisite taste I’m addicted to—filled my mouth. Her wetness coated my tongue as I ran it slowly up the inside of her folds toward her pulsing clitoris. Her pelvis rhythmically thrust and rocked as I spent the next few minutes savoring her.
Her breathing became ragged as I concentrated on the area around her clitoris, alternating between massaging this area with the tip of my tongue and penetrating her with it. As I peeked over her bush, I saw her head slowly rocking from side to side.
Without breaking the stimulation, I slipped the middle finger from my left hand into the opening of her vagina. She pressed her hips down, and her breaths became shallow and erratic. I pressed upward, keeping contact with the backside of her pubic bone, and curled my finger behind it. Feeling the swollen roughness of her G-Spot, I changed the movements of my tongue to gentle ones below her clitoris and pulsed my finger slowly upward. As I quickened the pace of my tongue and the pulses of my finger, her vagina suddenly began to flex, tighten, and bear down on my finger. I reached up with my right hand and lightly encircled her nipple with my finger.
This sent her over the edge in a matter of just 2 or 3 minutes. Her vagina clamped down on my finger as I curled the tip and put direct pressure on her G-Spot. Her clitoris was as hard as a rock, so I stopped the pressure on it as not to make it too sensitive. Her vagina pulsed and her hips gyrated as wave after wave of her climax ripped through her entire body and her juices flowed over my fingers.
She begged me to come inside her but I remained between her legs, gently licking her swollen lips. I removed my finger and placed it in my mouth, savoring the taste of her sweet juices. Since I had barely touched her clitoris, she was not sensitive at all. She had never experienced more than one orgasm in our 40 plus years of marriage, and I decided now was the time to give her this gift.
I reached for the vibrator we normally used (and needed) and began to rub it up and down the full length of her dripping wet, swollen opening while I inserted a large black dildo into her soaked vagina. She quickly took the vibrator from me and began to run it all around her clitoris. She was moving it in faster and faster circles on her clit. I quickly moved up to lie next to her, taking her left breast into my mouth.
As I began to suck and lick the hard nipple, it sent her over the edge again. The build-up had lasted only a minute or so until she exploded with a scream, her back arched as the orgasm enveloped every inch of her body. She convulsed with each wave and then completely collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily.
“OH, GEORGE…. OH, George.” Her voice formed the words between gasps for breath. This was the closest to the top of the mountain that I had ever seen my wife. She then started laughing hysterically, with the joy of the feelings that were pulsing through her.
She pulled me close and whispered, “I need you back inside me, NOW! Please!”
I mounted her and felt her warm pussy begin to tighten around me. She was so aroused from her previous orgasms that she began crying out “AHHHHH! OHHHH!” and then her pussy started clenching involuntarily around my cock. I held still for a moment, gently kneading her nipples as she finished the next orgasm.
“Oh, I love you, George!” she whimpered amid tears of joy.
Mary pulled my shoulders down so that our lips met, and she kissed me deeply. My cock was still hard and throbbing inside her; somehow, I had maintained enough self-control to not ejaculate. She said, “Let’s roll over. My turn to be on top!”
We wrapped our arms around each other and flipped over. I slipped out of her as we did that. As I settled on my back, she straddled me, sitting up straight and guiding my rock solid cock back into her.
With her body still pulsing and now sitting on top of me, she bent down and kissed me.
“Well,” she said, smiling, “someone is still rock hard, I can tell. In fact, I think I can feel you throbbing—Yep! I can. I think a good humping will make you cum.”
With that, she began humping, rotating her hips, sliding back and forth, and making me groan. Then she switched to moving up and down on my cock, raising her hips up until the tip of my cock was just barely inside of her and then slowly sliding back down. She contracted her vaginal muscles tightly around me, making me groan some more and arch my back.
“Oh, you are so tight! So hot! I can’t believe how good you feel!” I gasped.
The way Mary moved on top of me was driving me crazy and getting me very close to cumming. I watched her as she humped me: her greenish hazel eyes watching me; her mouth open, breathing hard; her creamy tits swaying along with her movements. I shifted my hands from her hips to her breasts and massaged and rubbed them.
She leaned down so that they swayed right above my face. I couldn’t resist licking and sucking on them, flicking her nipples with my tongue. Then suddenly, with a surprised look on her face, she began moaning loudly.
“Oohhhh, don’t stop! Don’t…stop!”
She began humping me faster, and I bucked my hips up into her.
“I’m…gonna…cum again!” she announced, and almost simultaneously did just that.
As she came, she sat straight up while I put my hands on her hips. This orgasm felt different than those before it. Her whole body convulsed and trembled for what seemed like 30 seconds or more.
Just as her orgasm was nearly spent she kept her pussy rhythmically squeezing me tight, and I felt my own climax build to the bursting point.
Looking into my eyes, she shouted, “Come on. Give it to me, George. I want everything you have. Let it go! I want to feel you erupt inside me.”
With her pussy pulsing hard around me, I felt my groin explode my huge load into her. She was riding and pumping me as I shot rope after rope of semen into her until I could feel that she overflowed. I could feel the warm juices rolling down onto my balls.
As the peak of my orgasm began to subside, she abruptly pulled off and took my still-throbbing member into her mouth. She moved in rhythm, milking what little was left in me with a powerful suction while her hand rested on and caressed my balls. I have never felt so spent and so energized in my life!
Finally, she collapsed on top of me. She explained she had always wanted to experience what my semen tasted like. She described the taste as being sweet, like heavy cream. I held my precious wife tight, and she began raining little kisses all over my chest.
She propped up on her arms on my chest, resting her chin on them, looking at me. “Was that okay?” she asked.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh, honey! That was more than okay. That was…” I stopped as I searched for the perfect word. “Incredible. That was incredible.”
But incredible seemed woefully inadequate. It was my turn to ask. “Did you…enjoy that? I mean those?”
She answered by kissing me, and then she giggled. “I came four times! There’s your answer.” She slid off of me to my side and nestled in. “I want to enjoy more of that…soon!
And we did. We cuddled for a few minutes and then started making out, old-school style—kissing, feeling each other up, groping. We spooned with me putting my still hard shaft into her. We both fell asleep locked together, just like we had on our wedding night.
And then I woke up and just watched her sleep—my beautiful, kind, intelligent, sensual wife—and reflected on our glorious night of making love, which is where I started this story.
She woke up shortly after, and we made love again. Then we slept again for a few more hours. All of the pain and heartache, the trials we’d each been through over the years, seemed to fade in light of the love we experienced that weekend. Yes, we had endured suffering; it happened and nothing would change that, but the pain was swallowed up by the joy we had found with each other. God had healed us. God, by directing our paths to each other, had made us one. And He continues making us into one, reflecting His love for us to each other and to the world.
We were—and are—forever grateful.
The end of the beginning…