metal wind chimes on a shepard's crook in a backyard setting

Wind Chimes (L)

PROLOGUE

The fight was a continuation of one they had many times before, though recently with greater frequency and more damage than ever. Their “ups” thrilled them, and their “downs” terrified them. And they couldn’t stop the roller-coaster.

Again, he yelled angry words that he regretted and wished he could take them back. Again she failed to communicate passion in a way that reached him, and wished she could try again. History repeating itself. Rinse. Repeat.

They had disagreements and differences of opinion that would never be bridged, and these threatened whatever hope they used to have for a passion-fairytale marriage. They wanted to be passionately different than the many vanilla, meh, marriages they saw all around them. At least, that’s what they said.

LATE-NIGHT DECK TIME

Part 1

With no resolution in sight, they got ready to head up to bed. He said it was still warm out, and he wanted to step outside naked one more time before the rains came. Their partially secluded backyard let them—him mostly—spend time naked on the deck. She chose to join him this time, and once outside, she hugged him in hope. Their new, deep-toned wind chime “bonged” once in the breeze. Such a lovely, far-away, sound.

His cock grew slightly, a hopeful sign at his age, and she was not going to let this pass. She missed every chance to fight for their passion, their marriage, and damn if she would miss this one. A few quick pumps of his cock, and she took charge. This Naked Deck Time would soon become Naked Fuck Time if she had her way.

She turned around, leaned against the house, put his cock between her ass cheeks, and told him, “Just pound me.” She felt his almost-hard dick in her crack, his hips against her butt, and his hands grabbing her hips. Pulling. Building. More urgent with each thrust.

Her breasts were pressed to the house, her nipples against the rough cedar boards. She always told him her nipples were erogenous, connected to her clit, but she didn’t mean she liked it this rough. At least, not until now.

As his hips surrendered to raw thrusting, the two of them kind of bounced from wall to grill. His hands dug into her hips, almost hurting, but she wasn’t going to stop this wild ecstasy now. Bam, bam, bam, as wire brushes and spatulas fell to the deck boards.

She always bruised easily and wondered how to explain five oval black-and-blues on each hip to her doctor next week. Maybe just smile knowingly; her doc would get it. The reversed imprint of “Weber” across her stomach would need some words.

LATE-NIGHT DECK TIME

Part 2

The grill was next to a shepherd’s crook pole holding the new wind chime. As they continued to fuck along the perimeter of the deck, right on the edge, his shoulder hit the pole with each thrust, triggering the chime to announce every drive of his hips.

No longer a lively, rich tone on the breeze, it was now an alarm, declaring something urgent, important was happening. Neighbor lights came on. They didn’t notice, nor would they have cared. They were too lost in devouring each other.

Until now, the noises were mostly heavy breathing, grunting, and the shuffling of sandals trying to retain footing on the deck boards. As their intensity grew, her feet were at times lifted off the deck on each thrust. Her flip-flops added their name to the cacophony of sounds accompanying this fucking two-step. Then came the dirty talk.

Following her initial demand to “just pound me,” she next more begged, “Please, fuck my pussy,” followed by, “oh, yes,” “right there,” and “deeper, my fuck-stick-man!”

He answered with, “Oh, my God,” “give me your cunt,” and “I will fuck that ass!” On and on it went, so that they both shocked and turned each other on with their “verbal sex.”

While their backyard was visually isolated, acoustically… let’s just say sound carries. There is no way in hell that the neighbors did not hear. And they didn’t care. They were happy to let their friends know they could still mix it up. Let the new, young couple have hope for raw, unbridled, wild-fucking when they hit their dotage!

LATE-NIGHT DECK TIME

Part 3

She’d never actually seen wild animals mate, but she didn’t need to now. His intensity was beyond anything they’d ever experienced before, and her need to be fucked by him matched his need to fuck her. It was animalistic, raw, instinctual.

It was like their hormones, long gone for decades, suddenly returned in a tidal wave of fuck-lust. She was desperate for his desperation. She knew if he howled right now, she would answer him in kind, and they would scare the neighborhood dogs.

Unbidden and strange, she thought how appropriate it was the words feral and fuck both started with “f.” She laughed to herself. Their lust was fantastic!

Too soon, his thrusts slowed, his grip loosened, and their hips slow-danced to recover. Given their ages, the reality was that she didn’t get wet, he didn’t get hard, there was no piston-fucking, no river of pussy-juice, no lava flow of cum, no multiple orgasms.

Just a hip-to-ass waltz careening across the deck in homage to what might have been. But for them, the intense, animal, married connection brought healing. They were back again as one, as they should be, as they were created to be.

EPILOGUE

Unfortunately, none of it happened. They ended Late-Night Deck Time with a by-passed kiss, and an awkward half-hug, careful to keep his cock from touching her. Their issues remained unresolved, the distance between them long and growing. They went to bed without a kiss, him burrowed under blankets, him on the covers, still awake.

He died in his sleep that night, maybe from COVID, or complications—it didn’t matter. Her heart was empty like a tomb, her tears flowed without end. She wiped them, tasted, and their salty flavor reminded her of his salty cum. She longed for it.

Their new deep-toned wind chime “bonged” once in the breeze. Such a lonely, far-away, sound.

———

Friends, don’t lose the opportunity to be intensely sexual, one with your spouse. Ever. It is a most unique, singular, powerful part of your married relationship. Do you think the Creator made sex so powerful, placed it in the protective crucible of marriage, walled it off from misuse and abuse, all on a whim? I don’t think God whims.

Take the time, make the time, bash down the barriers, find your edge, get back together, declare allegiance to each other, and together pursue that unique sexual connection that is yours alone. Let your moans and groans, your growling and howling, be prayers and songs of praise to the Creator, who made you sexual on purpose. Fuck like animals. Because too soon it will end.

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11 replies
  1. QueenandHubbie says:

    Good morning, all. Here’s our #1. In talking with MH, we thought it good to let you know that NO ONE DIED! He/me/Hubbie did not die. Queen is fine! (Oh, is she ever!) It was just an illustration in the story of the fleetingness of life, of what could happen. Hope you enjoy the story.

    • QueenandHubbie says:

      Thank you. Tried to do a different thing with the inner, sexual heat story, wrapped in the middle, sexual struggles and loss story, wrapped in some connection to spiritual realities.

  2. 5Osromantic says:

    There are few times that I have been moved in such a way…in a strange way, this story had a similar effect on me as when I saw Black Hawk Down, and everyone left the theater in silence.

    • QueenandHubbie says:

      (H) Thanks for your comment, and um, yikes! I get the BHD reference; I had the same reaction. On one hand, I’m glad you were moved. On the other, I meant the last paragraph to move all of us (Q and I as well) to intentionally make passion happen.

    • QueenandHubbie says:

      SM, thanks for your thoughts. I tried to be romantic, and illustrate a potential tragedy, if we don’t pay attention and focus on the last two paragraphs. I just know for me, this focus brings great results, and lack of focus brings great problems.

      I’m not sure if we agree or disagree on your last sentence. I actually do believe in a real, Biblical God who actually created us, and actually designed sex to be a special, strong, positive, preserving force in marriage. On purpose, not as an afterthought or whim.

      Reserving this power for the crucible of marriage, and the so many affirmations and prohibitions in the Bible, lead me to be way more sex-positive than traditional church positions. I think “church” has missed the boat on sex, to our detriment.

      In any event, thanks for reading.

    • SecondMarge says:

      I think like in most things no two people see things exactly the same. Sex has been around for millennium before marriage and was made so pleasurable so we would procreate. Marriage was invented to protect the pregnant wife and the offspring. Fortunately good sex will strengthen a marriage and is safer and healthier than those with dozens even hundreds of sex partners who may enjoy sex as much or more than most married couples. Most people having and enjoying sex are NOT with their first sex partner. While we believe marriage is the ideal we have also learned to accept divorce, second, third even more marriages. Some call it serial monogamy. There are good sexless marriages and divorced couples who had great sex during their marriage.

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