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Try as we did all through last year and the holidays to stay safe and follow all precautions, my husband of 30 years, Tom tested positive for Covid-19 last week, after being exposed to a co-worker. I was terribly worried, but fortunately, his symptoms were minor, and through careful distancing and a lot of caution, I managed to stay negative.
But after seven days of separation, I missed him! He was sleeping upstairs, working in his office, and trying his best to stay out of what had become “my part” of our house. We texted and checked on each other, but that wasn’t enough for me. I found myself craving the little things about him I took for granted: his sense of humor, his calm strength, his handsome face, our evening conversations over a glass of wine in front of the fire, and at night, his warm sexy body next to me in our bed.
Although we have been married for over 30 years, we are still very physically affectionate with each other. We have taken a vow to kiss—passionately—every day. I love running my hands over his firm chest and shoulders and feeling his arms around me.
I take care of my body and enjoy catching Tom watching me when I get out of the shower or have on sexy clothes that show off my best assets. I dread the day he walks by me without playfully slapping my shapely ass. I’m determined to never let that happen.
On Saturday, I made breakfast for him and left it on a tray outside his door with a note that said, “I miss you!” When he brought the tray down later that morning, I was still in my granny gown and bathrobe.
He smiled and said, “I miss you, too, more than you know. I know we can’t be near each other, but I’m really horny for you—it has been over a week. I was wondering if I might watch you get dressed and get some ideas for a little voyeuristic fantasy.”
“Exactly what did you have in mind?” I asked him seductively. Tom knows that I occasionally pamper and privately pleasure myself in the mornings when he is at work. He gets very turned on when I describe my routine, and it turns me on to tell him about it. But I had never really shown him.
“I want to watch,” he said.
“Watch what?” I asked him playfully. I knew what he wanted, but I wanted to hear him ask for it.
“I want to watch you make yourself come,” he said, suddenly serious.
I smiled and pulled the shoulders of my gown down, displaying the tops of my boobs. Just talking to him had made my nipples hard.
“I think that can be arranged,” I said.
I walked to our master bedroom, swaying my hips, and looked back over my shoulder. Tom followed, carefully staying ten paces behind, and settled in on a plush love seat that gave him a full view of the large master shower and our four-poster king-sized bed.
I turned on the shower, slipped out of my gown, and stepped under the warm water. As the hot water began to steam the glass, I wondered exactly what Tom could see. I decided to pretend he wasn’t even there. I wanted to show him everything, totally uninhibited as if I was all by myself.
I filled my hands with my favorite bath gel and soaped my body from head to toe. I spent extra time on my ample breasts, running my hands over every curve and fold. I washed my strawberry blonde hair, and let the slippery conditioner run down my tummy and soften my rich, soft pubic hair, which I keep trimmed and fragrant.
I put a washcloth on the tile bench and leaned back against the smooth warm ceramic, then took the handheld showerhead and set it to my favorite pulsating rhythm.
I started at my feet, then moved the spray slowly up my smooth legs until it was positioned perfectly on my pubic mound and engorging clit.
I can vary the intensity of the water stream and bring myself to a strong orgasm in the shower, but to put on the best show for Tom, I used the handheld just to warm up and edge myself. I added some moans and dirty talking to my imaginary lover. I knew this would turn Tom on.
“Lick my clit, baby!” I moaned and arched my back as I held the showerhead with my left hand while I slid first one and then two fingers into my slippery vagina. “Oooooh, fuck me! Fuck me with your big hard cock!”
By this time, my pussy was very wet, and I was close to my first orgasm. I relaxed and let the intensity ebb a little, turned off the shower, and patted myself dry. Then I wrapped my wet hair in a towel and put on my thick terrycloth robe.
Pretending to ignore Tom’s gaze, I grabbed my favorite body lotion and sat down at my dressing table. I turned on the crystal lamps on each side, pulled the robe off my shoulders, and admired my natural breasts. Not bad for 52!
I could see Tom’s face in the reflection from across the room, looking so sexy in his tight jeans and cashmere sweater. His eyes were locked on my tits. I took a handful of lotion and began to massage it in, starting with my shoulders, then under each breast, and finished by teasing and pulling on my pink areolas and protruding nipples. I pushed my arms together and admired my cleavage, then gently shook my shoulders so that my breasts swayed with the movement of my body. Unwrapping the towel, I let my damp hair trail down my back. Tom audibly gasped.
I stayed at my dressing table and applied some light makeup to my eyes and lips. Then I had an idea, and applied some rouge to my already pink nipples, making them stand out even more.
Satisfied with my appearance, I stood up and walked over to our full-length antique mirror and let my robe fall to my feet. I shook my hair and ran my hands down my breasts and sides, then began to pull and tease my luxuriant red pubic hair, occasionally slipping my fingers over my now swollen clit and pink pussy lips.
Tom has always told me that I have the most beautiful pussy he has ever seen. I know how much he adores to bury his face in it and inhale my scent. I pulled the lips out and pushed them open so I could get a closer look. My pussy glistened with clear beads of moisture, and I smelled and tasted my fingertips, rubbing the sweet nectar on my lips.
I then turned to face Tom on the couch. I could see the outline of his cock in his jeans, very erect. I’m so lucky that Tom has a large cock, and I get very turned on watching him touch and stroke it as only a man can do.
I decided to try a simple yoga stretch, and slowly bent at the waist and wrapped my hands around my ankles. I looked around and saw my pussy from behind and the tight pink bud of my ass on full display. Tom and I are not into anal play, but it was so sensual to be so completely open to him, every inch of me exposed to his hungry eyes. He and I could both see in the mirror what is usually only available to him, and it made me feel very confident to know that I am still the object of my husband’s desire.
I stood back up and walked slowly around our bed to the nightstand, where I keep my little vibrating friend, a pink penis-shaped rabbit* that Tom and I laughingly call “the thirty-second orgasm.”
I pulled the sheets back, fluffed up the pillows, and climbed onto the bed. The sheets were cool against my skin, and a chill of anticipated pleasure shook me from head to toe. I lay back, closed my eyes, and tried a meditation exercise where I start at my toes and work my way up, imagining every cell in my body melting into total relaxed blissfulness.
I then used my fingers to begin caressing my hips, sides, tummy, arms, neck, and face before trailing back down to my breasts and nipples. I’m lucky that my boobs are hard-wired to my pussy. I have been this way since I was a teenager, and I’m a bit embarrassed to admit that I adored long make-out sessions with my old boyfriends, where I let their hands roam wherever they wanted above the waist. There are times when Tom can bring me right to the brink of orgasm just by touching and kissing my breasts.
I could feel my pussy moisten again, and the familiar butterflies began to flutter in my chest. The thought of Tom watching me, almost like a complete stranger in my bedroom, was making me incredibly excited. I could hear his breathing increase and the sound of a zipper being slowly pulled down, and then the familiar, sexy sound of a hand stroking a hard cock.
I took the rabbit in my hand. It was cold, and I wanted to warm it up before putting it between my legs. So I pretended it was a real live cock, and that my unknown handsome admirer had brought it to my lips to be kissed and sucked before fucking me with it. I gripped the shaft in my fist and began to lick and kiss the head. I swirled my tongue over the realistic ridges, then pushed it slowly in and out of my mouth, almost gagging on its length. I thought I heard my imaginary stranger moan with pleasure, but then realized it was Tom.
“Jesus, Ann, you are killing me over here. I want you so badly…”
I kept my eyes closed, but smiled as I continued to suck and lick the shaft. It was now very warm and wet with my saliva, so I turned it to its lowest setting and guided it to my waiting pussy.
(If you don’t own a rabbit vibrator, stop reading this and go immediately to your nearest sex shop and buy one*!)
The gently fluttering ears landed on each side of my swollen clit like a butterfly. If only Tom’s tongue could do this! It was heavenly. My clit is large and very easy to find. I’m sad for my girlfriends who claim they have a difficult time finding what feels best for them. I’m not much for probing around in search of a “G-spot,” and I confess I have never been quite sure I actually have one. For me it’s all about my clit.
The head of the vibrator slid easily into my pussy, and I wondered for a moment if I should have put a towel under me, as I was very wet and extremely turned on. When I get like this, a strong orgasm causes such a rush of those sweet pussy juices that I can accidentally make quite a sexy mess. There are times where I have nearly drowned poor Tom, but he claims he loves it when I really let go.
To those so-called “sexperts” who say this fluid is just pee, um, you’re wrong. Mine is slippery and wonderfully sweet. Once you taste yourself on your husband’s lips or face or cock, you will know.
I could feel my orgasm building. It was as if someone is winding one of those toy airplanes with a rubber band and propeller. I could feel my tummy muscles tighten, my nipples harden, and a wonderful warm sensation build and build between my legs and spread up my back and down to my toes. I clamped my thighs together and gripped the dildo and used my hands to cup my breasts and pull my nipples until I could hear myself crying out in pain. My hips were bucking up and down on the bed, and I was completely lost in my own explosion of pleasure and release.
My orgasms don’t necessarily have to subside. I feel as if I can catch a second wave, almost like body surfing in a warm ocean. I settled down a bit and began stroking the rabbit in and out, and for the first time, I actually looked straight over at Tom.
“Oh, baby, I’m getting fucked so good! Watch me get fucked, baby! You like that? Do you want to come? Come with me! Stroke that hard cock, baby. Make it come. I want to see you come, baby! Come with me! Oh, my God, I’m coming again!”
The dirty talk did the trick for both of us. Tom came with a groan. I could see the thick white semen spill over his fist. Watching my husband come for me and with me is an incredibly intimate experience.
We both lay still and stared into each others’ eyes. I could feel mine begin to tear up. I love this man so much!
“Are you okay?” he finally asked, and I laughed and turned off the rabbit.
“My goodness, I didn’t know how badly I needed that. I wish you could come crawl in bed and make love to me.”
“I think I have a little cleaning up to do,” he said. “This is embarrassing. I feel like I’m 15 years old.”
“Tom, thank you for making an old lady feel sexy.”
“Anne, you are my girl.”
Five more days of quarantine. I think we’ll make it.
* Affiliate Link. Full disclosure here.
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