This story contains strong language (L).
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God has blessed me with the woman that He obviously meant for me. We first met in high school. Well, that’s partly true. I read once that only ½ of 1% of all married couples met in church, but that is actually where we first met: at our church youth group. The following fall, our schools merged, and we were in high school together. I hadn’t dated anyone in years. The time I’d had a girlfriend was back in 6th grade, so I wasn’t very forward with her now. She made the first move, letting me know that she wanted to get to know me better. I still have that note over 30 years later.
We became high school sweethearts. Our first date was at homecoming of my junior year; she was a freshman. We’ve been inseparable ever since. We got engaged while she was still in high school. I’m pretty sure she was the only junior with an engagement ring. We had a teacher in high school tell us that we needed to “just relax and stop being so serious because it would never last.” That teacher has now divorced, but we’re still going strong. So much for what they knew.
We were together all through high school, including two years after I graduated and went to college while she graduated. Lucky for me, the college was in-state, and we’d see each other on weekends. We married one year after she graduated; I was still in college, and she had finished one year of community college. College wasn’t for her, so she didn’t go back after we were married.
Now that you know our backstory, let’s move forward a little.
We had our first child five years after we got married, giving us time to be together. Our second was a little more than three years after that. I don’t recall when exactly, but after our second child, our sex life was good, but we both wanted better. After looking online, I found some suggested questions to help with communication about sex and thought this might be an excellent place to start. I took some items from the web article and came up with some of my own to create a sex questionnaire. It consisted of a series of activities for each of us to rate on a scale from 1 to 10. It would help us find out what ideas we liked and what we didn’t. There were about 50 questions that ranged from kissing and touching to sexual positions. I think we both had an inkling of what the other liked and what they didn’t, but we were surprised by a few answers. It definitely helped, and the heat got turned up.
Flash forward again. We planned a trip to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. We decided to take a second honeymoon in the same place we’d gone the first time. The thought of being alone on vacation without any children or other distractions seemed to get us both worked up. While I cleaned out some things in the bottom drawer of my bedside table, I came across the original questionnaire from many years before. By now, it had been over a decade; one of our kids had entered college, and the other was in high school. Our sex life was good, but I remembered what this little exercise had accomplished. Considering that we had both changed a little over the years, I thought it was well worth taking another shot at it. As a very techy person, I wasn’t going to print anything out; I decided to utilize an online questionnaire instead. But I didn’t tell my wife about it. I took the original ideas, put most of them into a form, and then added some new ones. The ability to ask different types of questions rather than just “rank the following” was a significant improvement.
One morning I texted her and let her know that I was going to email her something. As a stay at home mom, she usually is not far from her kindle, so email is easily accessible. I hopped on my Gmail account and sent her the link about an hour before I’d be home for lunch. Twenty minutes later, I got a simple text back. ‘WOW.’
When I got home, she was sitting on the couch and smiling at me. ‘When do I get to ask you some questions?” she said.
“Whenever you want,” I replied. I grabbed some lunch and headed to my computer to look over my wife’s responses. As I read through the questions, I could feel myself getting hard. My wife did not hold back on answering any of my inquiries. She was unsure as to what kind of response I wanted but did her best.
She came down to see me while I read her answers and again asked when she could ask me some questions. She didn’t want to use forms as they are not her thing, so I pulled up a word processor on another computer (remember, techy) and let her get to typing. She had a couple of hours before anyone would be coming home from school.
I went back to work, still supporting a ¾-hard cock. My mind was racing with the answers my wife gave me, but at the same time, more questions came to mind. I couldn’t wait, so when I got to my desk, I logged into my account and started a second questionnaire. These were more in-depth, digging deeper into what she liked and what she wanted. I couldn’t spend my entire afternoon working on the questions, but I got the basics down before finishing and getting back to my job.
When I got home, I had a few pages sitting on my computer. It didn’t take my wife long to come up with her questions. They were good too, and it was just as fun answering her questions as coming up with mine for her. The best part was that her questions helped me come up with a few more to add to the new form I had started. Once again, my cock was bulging. I finished my answers and took the pages to her, then quickly returned to my computer to add the new questions and finish up as much of the form as I could.
My next day was more typical—up for breakfast and off to work. Then, just before lunch, the text came.
Don’t be late for lunch.
It was almost 11:00 AM; I usually left for lunch at 11:30. I kept on task, making sure to keep one eye on the clock the other on my work. I couldn’t wait for the clock to say 11:30 and was actually out the door early. Luckily, I had a short drive to get home.
My wife met me just inside the door. As the door closed behind me, she kissed me deeply.
“You’ll have to wait to eat,” she whispered as she pulled me down the hall to our room.
Once in the room, she closed the door behind me and attacked my mouth. Our hands worked over each other’s bodies, rubbing and squeezing, while our tongues wrestled with each other. We pulled apart momentarily to focus on removing our clothes. Soon enough, our clothes were in piles on the floor, and my wife laid down on the bed on her back.
I love to take the time to look at her naked body, but my lunch break was limited. I would soon need to go back to work. I crawled on top and between her legs, kissing her quickly before sliding down and taking her nipples in my mouth, nibbling and sucking on one while squeezing the other in my fingers. Her moans and body movements told me that I was doing everything right. I took my hand from her nipple and slid it between her legs to find her slit soaking wet. Slipping a finger between her lips, I teased her opening.
She couldn’t take anymore and pulled me up to kiss me quickly, then said, “Fuck me.” Who was I to refuse her command?
My hard cock knew precisely where to go. I moved forward, and the head of my cock touched her, landing right on her wetness. As I pushed forward, I found no resistance. She was so wet and ready that I slid in completely.
She groaned with satisfaction, her hands pulling at my lower back, holding me deep inside her. I pulled back slowly, enjoying the feeling of her around me, then pushed back completely and just as slowly. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she let out another groan, her fingernails dragging down and digging into my back. I stroked a few more times slowly, both of us enjoying the feeling, her hands pulling me each time. Her palms moved up to my face and pulled my lips to hers.
“Fuck me hard and fast,” she demanded. I kissed her and pushed away, getting up on my knees. I began a slow in-and-out before increasing my pace.
My wife met each of my thrusts with a satisfying grunt or moan. “Yes, yes, huh, fuck, fuck me,” she panted.
I grabbed both of her thighs to help me plunge into her harder, watching her tits bounce up and down her chest to the rhythm of my strokes. Her pussy got wetter, and the sound of our bodies slapping together joined the sloppy wet sounds of her flowing juices.
I paused for a moment to catch my breath. As I did, my wife’s body jolted and contracted, and I felt her pussy pulse around me. I have read that very few women can orgasm from penetration alone; I am fortunate to have one of the few. We both rested a bit, breathing heavily. As we relaxed, I reached for the top drawer of the bedside table and retrieved her favorite toy. She’s had it for years, one of the least expensive little pocket rocket vibes, but it works for her. I placed the silver toy in her hand, and she started to make a slow stroke. My palms moved to her large tits and gently massaged them a little, then I grabbed both nipples with my thumb and finger to pinch them.
A huge sigh turned into a moan, then a giggle. My wife turned on the toy and placed it on her clit.
I could feel the vibrations on my cock and stopped my movements. My woman can have sensory overload if I try to stroke while she’s buzzing her clit, but that does not mean my hands weren’t busy. I grabbed her areolas—as large as a silver dollar—squeezed them, and let them slide through my fingers until I caught the nipple with my fingers and pinched.
While my wife sent vibrations directly to her clit, I continued to play. I focused on her, listening to her vocal sounds change. I know her sounds so well and can tell by the tone of her moans and how her breaths come faster but shallow that she’s getting close. When that happened, I gripped her nipples tightly and squeezed while twisting.
Her groaning deepened, and her body began to arch then shudder. She stopped breathing, and she lurched as her pussy clamped around my shaft. Her hand reached up and pulled mine from her nipple. She gasped as her pussy contracted around me over and over.
As I watched, her orgasm slowly faded, her body twitching as the waves flowed through her. Then she moved her hand and toy from her clit and pulled me on top of her, breathing quickly and heavily. I put my lips to hers and kissed her softly.
She looked deep into my eyes and smiled. “It’s your turn,” she sighed.
I stroked in and out once, very slowly, wanting to make sure she had come down from her little death. Her eyes winced as if in slight pain, but her mouth opened, and a deep sigh came out. Her orgasm over, she had become very sensitive, amplifying the movement inside her soft wet tunnel. A smile washed across her face, telling me everything was okay.
I increased my pace, and that smile morphed to an open mouth. My wife’s eyes squinted, followed by sweet noises emanating from her lips. Reaching down, she gripped my hips and pulled me into her, encouraging me to go harder and deeper.
If that is what she wanted, that’s what she’d get. I stopped my movements and gave her a deep kiss; our tongues met each other. Sitting up again gave me the ability to push in farther, along with giving me a gorgeous view of my wife’s large tits. Again, my thrusting began. I got up on my knees, and my wife lifted her knees, giving me full access to all the depths of her.
With each stroke I made, my wife let out a noise like music to my ears. “Oh, Yes, Fuck, God, It’s so deep, Huh, Fuck me, Harder, Ohhhh.”
My balls slapped against her with a splashing sound as her juices ran out of her pussy. She was so wet, her orgasm having added to the lubrication of her arousal. I enjoyed fucking her good and might have for a while longer, but she looked at me and demanded, “Give it to me!”
That was it; time was no longer on my side. Those words flipped the switch, and I was going to explode quickly now. I instantly began pounding my wife as hard as I could, and her moans turned to whimpers as I bottomed out into her. She managed to get out, “Yes, yes,” before I came. I thrust deeply and held myself tightly against her, my cum shooting deep.
We were both panting, trying to catch our breath and bring our heart rates back to a reasonable level. Sweat was running down my forehead, and my wife’s body was glistening, her pussy swollen and dripping.
I could slowly feel myself losing stiffness, and the ability of my softening shaft to stay in its warm scabbard waned. We’d both steadied our breathing when I slowly slid my hypersensitive shaft out and rolled over onto the bed next to my wife.
“We need to make this a more regular thing,” she sighed.
“Definitely,” I responded.
We lay there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow of our orgasms, before I rolled to the side of the bed and got up, looking for all the clothes that we had hastily discarded mere minutes before. I dressed and walked back to my wife, still naked on the bed, but now she’d pulled the comforter up to cover most of her. One lovely breast remained visible, its large nipple still hard and proud. I bent down and attacked her mouth, forcing my tongue into her mouth.
Initially, she was startled but quickly reciprocated the kiss. We broke apart, and I told her, “I Love you.”
“I love you too,” she responded.
Before I turned to get some lunch, I took a quick moment to suck on her nipple.
“No!” she cried out and pulled the comforter up to cover herself fully.
I giggled and walked out of the room.
The questions from long ago—opening up the communication about sex, what we like, and what we don’t—has put wind to our Marriage Heat, like a bellows to a blacksmith’s fire. We are white-hot, and there doesn’t seem to be any sign of it calming down. Not only is the frequency we’re having sex increased to a level we haven’t seen since before we had kids or maybe even more, but the quality of the experience and the intensity of the orgasms have gone off the charts. I am so thankful that this all started a couple months before our 25th wedding anniversary. The things we have planned revolve mostly around time in bed, or the shower, or jacuzzi tub, or wherever we plan on making love. God has undoubtedly made this woman specifically for me and me for her.