Jasmine Journal

Hello, everyone, I hope that God is pouring blessings down to you, your marriage, and your family! This story is close to my heart, and note that this is just my experience with having a journal, and if it seems like something that you may want to try, please do. God bless ❣

When we were dating, I kept a little hope chest, full of small gifts, ticket stubs, memories from dates, and a small journal. I wrote about our relationship in there. I know it seems overly naïve, but often times taking moments to appreciate the person you love can help brighten your day. My husband is always straightforward, and he always tells me when he appreciates things I do, and who I am. I am showered with love through his actions and the way he treats me. So I feel no shame in having a little place to write things about us in. Now that we are married, I thought I should start a journal to write down my feelings.

I picked up this journal, and I decided to do something special. You see, every Friday is our date night. In my husband’s culture, a man would buy some jasmine flowers and pin them in his wife’s hair as a symbol of romantic love and passion, and he does that every Friday. He would sometimes be late to dinner, but he would always get those flowers. So every week, I put a few buds of those flowers in my notebook, and so it became my secret little Jasmine Journal.

One of my married friends (who has been married I believe nearly 9 years, and has three children) is my advisor in this matter. She told me that a few minutes in that journal every day did wonders for her. So I took a shot at it.

I loved it, and it works for me. In fact, that is how I write these stories, sometimes using what I wrote in those journals. Of course, most of the things in there about me and my hubby are special and lovely, so I would not share them even anonymously, but the sexy time stories that I feel may inspire, or help me be inspired, I will share after asking my husband too.

The best way to describe the journal is… well imagine a clean romance novel, with some spice mixed in lol. I basically write things I did with him (in and out of the bedroom) and things I want to do. Goals and dreams; whether they be dreams for life or dreamy and steamy moments in our private abode.

But, my husband originally did not know this existed. I just wrote things down, and once he found out about it is when I started writing on MarriageHeat. I would at times pull from it, with his permission. So, without further adieu, here is the story of how he found out as well as his passionate response.

On this particular day, I was working at my part-time job, holding a back-to-school event where a lot of kids came to collect school supplies that the center had bought for them. It was evening, and my husband was to come home early from work that day. Since it was also a Friday, we thought that perhaps a night out would be best, given the circumstances and the fact that it was our date night.

I always look forward to date nights, he does such an amazing job planning them out and making sure I enjoy the time we spend together. I feel bad because I have organized only a few of these nights before, but he is always so focused and thinks out these nights most of the time. He always focuses on me and whether I am having a good time, and so I try to make sure that when we return home, I put as much focus on him as I can… if you know what I mean 😉🥰.

Back to it then, lol. I enjoy working with kids at my job, and this is something that my hubby knows about me. I work at a child care center co-managed by my church and I often take care of children, help in these events, or even have some of the little bundles of joy over at our home for dinner or on a day out. I was cleaning up after the event and looking after some of the kids as their parents picked them up one by one. One girl, in particular, was very affectionate towards me.

A young charmer of a boy, who had been by my side the entire day nearly, approached me. Earlier in the day, I dropped my phone and he bent down, dusted it off, and handed it over to me with a smile. There was a box that I had to lift up the stairs that I very well could have lifted myself, but he rallied some of the boys who lifted it and the other boxes up the stairs. The little rascal was so cute. His father must be a good role model, and his mother raised him right. He approached me and asked for me to lean down. I went down on my knees and he gave me a smile.

He then said, “Thank you for inviting us all to help today!”

“Well, that is just such a sweetheart thing of you to say,” I proclaimed while giving him a hug, “You are such a gentleman, you were always so strong today and kind to everyone.”

He was blushing visibly, turning his foot on the ground as he peered up at me and gave me a smile. His mother’s voice came from behind me, so I walked him over to her. His mother and father live just a few houses down from me and my husband, and over the past few months, I have gotten to know her much like many other people who worked or visited the center.

“How was he? He can be a bit energetic around new people; I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble!”

“Trouble? No, no, no this little man was super helpful and was so nice to everyone!”

“Glad to hear! Also, I thought I saw your husband, he was around here somewhere…”

“Really? I thought he was coming much later.”

“Not sure, Soph. Anyways, I hate to take up more of your time. Thank you again, and have a nice weekend!”

“No problem, and same to you!”

As they turned around and walked away, the boy looked back and gave me his cute little smile again. It made my heart flutter and I could not wait until my husband and I had a house full of kids! Speaking of my husband, why was he here half an hour early? Suddenly I felt an arm come around my shoulder and that sexy voice ring in my ears.

“Hello, darling.”

I turned to look at him in all his glory. Tight, rounded jawline, deep, dark eyes, and a pair of spectacles that only made him look even more attractive to me. I could see in his eyes how tired he was. I know he had a particularly long week at his job, and it was taking him some time to get adjusted. He was working so hard for us, and I think that despite his tiredness and the mental struggles he goes through all the time, he finds ample time for me. All the more reason that taking a few minutes of my day to write about him and about us is not something I take as a chore. I love to rejoice in our moments as a couple, because I know there will be imperfect or maybe even bad days, and I want something to remind myself of who we are. Wow, I am getting very distracted now lol.

“Darling, you alright?”

“Yes, sweet, I am fine,” I replied with a mellow tone.

“I know what you were thinking about… we are going to have as many as you want. Trust God, leave it to Him…. and me, to an extent,” he said with a slight grin.

“Of course! I just can’t wait for it, haha!”

I left him for a moment to get my purse from the office and use the lady’s room. When I came out, he had his jacket in his hands. He told me it was cold and draped his jacket over my shoulders, then offered me his arm. How romantic of him 🥰

We walked out to his motorcycle and I hopped on, clutching him tight around his big, tough body as he took me back home. The work had gone quite late into the evening, about 8:00, so I brought dinner with me and ate at the church with some of the kids. My husband bought dinner out on his way back from work. So, I was expecting maybe a light walk by the lake that is near our neighborhood, a motorcycle ride and a view of the sunset, or maybe a movie. It had been such a long time since either of us have been to a movie; COVID had controlled the world for a while. But the show that I put on was much more appealing to me in the moment.

When we entered the house, he sat down on the couch and turned on the television to some cricket highlights. I told my husband to relax, got him some lemonade to drink, and went to the restroom to freshen up.

I let my hair down from its bun and tossed it around a bit, then took off my skirt and shirt and went into the shower. After lathering up a scrubby with bodywash, I rubbed it all over. I love to just take some time for self-care whenever I can, especially in the shower. Hygiene and cleanliness help me feel more relaxed. I spread the suds over my hips, my bum, my legs, and underneath my breasts. Then, I grabbed the showerhead and rinsed myself off. The water hit my little love pearl, and I jumped. It brought me a good deal of pleasure, but my husband’s touch was more special to me anyway, lol. I was just glad my husband had not seen it; I could imagine the grin on his face. I washed my hair clean and stepped out of the shower.

After I dried my hair, I put on some lotion. I have a rather large assortment of moisturizing lotions (my sweet teases me by saying that half of his salary goes towards it, but I know he likes it, lol). I knew that we would eventually be in the sheets, romantically tangled with each other, so I wanted to pick one that would elevate our senses a bit. So, I chose a lotion called Paris Amour, a wonderful combination of pink tulips and raspberries. Not to mention Paris is the “City of Love”; how fitting.

I rubbed the scented lotion into every crevice of my body, and of course, took some time to pose in front of the mirror a bit. Rolling my hips, I was nearly simulating what I do when in passionate lovemaking with my husband. I could feel myself getting dewed up in my flower, more than ready to relieve the stress of his workweek and unite myself with the Adonis of a man that was just feet away from me. I stopped dreaming about what he may do with me later and wrapped the towel around me again.

Next, I applied some creme to my face and combed my hair before putting it in curls. I just had to put on some lip glossy, but it was not in the little cubby where I kept it. I looked on the floor; perhaps I had dropped it. But it was nowhere to be found. I started looking through the drawers, but after going through half of them I called out,

“Sweet? I can’t find my glossy. Do you know where it is?”

I got no response, so I called out to him again. Still nothing. Perhaps he had fallen asleep; he already seemed quite tired and worn out. The poor man may have just fallen right into slumber. While I loved him and wanted to be sure he got rest, I was also sad that we would not be making love that night.

I looked in the last drawer, where I keep some spare items, and I found my lip glossy. But it was not alone. The little container was on top of a book. My secret journal.

How did this get here? I was a bit shocked and worried that maybe my husband had seen it. I took it out and put it on the bathroom sink, then closed the drawer. I looked up at the mirror, and there he was.

My sweet was standing at the door of the restroom, wearing a collared linen shirt with a few buttons undone to expose his strong, broad, manly chest and tight shorts that hugged his thighs. His sleeves strained around those bulging biceps of his that held him up as he made love to me on our bed. I could imagine his big, throbbing hotrod, tied in its restraints within his shorts and undergarment. Oh, I wanted it inside me right then and there, but I was frozen.

His dark, brooding, chocolatey eyes were glued to mine, and I could not pull my gaze away. He had me in his grasp, and he knew it. I was in his arms, and he was not even touching me. I was flooding down in my rose, and yet his big manhood had not even come close to me.

Now, I love that I can wield my shy nature as coyness, and use my allure to twist the poor man into knots whenever I want, creating anticipation such that he would know that his wife was waiting on the marriage bed. I have him wrapped around my pinky.  But what he does to me is astounding. He does not need to say a word, or touch me anywhere.

Suddenly, his voice broke the silence. “What happened, darling? You look like you saw a ghost, or… perhaps you were dreaming?”

“I… erm… sweet… I…,” I struggled to get out my words. It seemed to me—and him—that I was nearly about to reach my peak. There was something thrilling about him finding my book and hiding it and planning all of this. How did he find it? Who cares? God helped him. God brought us together, and he guided my sexy man to do this.

“You were looking for your lip balm or glossy container, right? Well, you found it. What happened? Not going to use it?”

He walked closer and hooked his big, manly arms around my waist, pulling me to him. I rested my hands on his chest, looking up at my man.

“Maybe I can help with the lip treatment, albeit my methods are a bit…  unique.”

His hand grazed my cheek, and he leaned in for the most passionate kiss I had ever had up to that moment. He has certainly beaten that passion day after day, lol. I just cannot wait to kiss him again when he comes home today, and every day. I hope that God has given us time on this Earth so that we can kiss now, when we are 30, 40, 50, 60… I hope that, even as we age, I can experience that true love that comes through in his kiss; I want to always experience the love in his lips.

But this kiss was not for the lips alone; no, he used his tongue to make love to my mouth, and I felt like he was exploring me, making me shake and shiver. I felt our souls touch and do a merry little dance between our lips. I raised one arm around his shoulder, resting the other hand softly inside his open neckline. I pulled back and looked into his eyes. Part of me felt horrible about hiding the journal from him, and I wanted so dearly to apologize.

“Sweet, I am sorry that I hid this from you, I just felt a bit shy about…” he interrupted by putting his finger over my lips and softly caressing my face with his hand.

“No, please do not apologize. I actually wanted to apologize because I felt that perhaps I read something you wanted to keep private. It was just lying on the bed and when I picked it up some of those jasmine buds I bought fell out. And well, I began to thumb through the book, and here I am.”

“I save those jasmine buds, you know. I had a little chest when we were dating, and I saved a lot of things in there. This is a lot like that for me. I have no issues with you reading it.”

“I had something similar; it is still with me now. Remember our first date, you wore a hair ribbon and it got taken in the wind, and you thought you lost it?”

“Yes… wait you still have it?!?!”

“Yes. I saved it in a box and it is still with me. It reminded me of you. When I had an especially horrible day, I knew that I had you and felt proud that God blessed me with the chance to be your man. I am so happy that you write about this sort of thing. I was going to suggest that writing may be a good way for us to communicate sometimes.”

“You don’t think it’s strange? I talk about stuff that is not as… intimate… but a lot of it is.”

“I was a bit, shocked, certainly. But if writing is one way for you to help process things, I am all for it. Plus, I feel like a million dollars knowing that my wife has such desires of me.”

“Awww, sweet… I really don’t know what to say. Thank you for being so understanding. I love you so much!!”

“Of course, darling. And I promise not to poke my head into your business again.”

“No, I have no worries about that. After all, I always write about us. But you did snoop around a bit, no? It would have been hard to imagine some of it, I guess. Perhaps I ought to help illustrate what I wrote…” I looked down, then looked right into his eyes, and gave him a slight smile.

Yes, girl, let’s get him all worked up! were the exact thoughts in my head. I gave him a few slow and pensive blinks, making it seem like time slowed down between our faces.

“…maybe, I can help you visualize a bit. If that’s something that would enhance your reading,” I said.

I reached up and stroked his face and the hair that fell on his forehead. With a passionate hug, I rubbed my cheek against his chest, and pressed my breasts against him, purring calmly. I wanted to be one with him so badly, I loved him so much, and I knew he had a tough week. Making love with the man God blessed me with would be perfect.

I felt his arm muscles tighten around my waist. He wanted me too. I had been praying at the time, and asked God how I may be a loving wife in the marriage bed if I am too shy to even speak about such things? He gave me an answer: be shy, be coy, be soft, be gentle. I know that I can use my form of affection to have my man running behind me.

He was staring into my eyes, and I had to keep myself focused because I was smitten. His mouth was open slightly, and it was like those cartoons where a bug would fly in and come out of his ear, lol.

“Darling, erm… I… how exactly… would you do that?”

“Why tell you, my lovely husband, when I can show you?”

I grabbed his shirt collar and started walking into the bedroom towards the bed with him following me, in a trance. With just a towel around me, I knew he was ogling at what was underneath. This felt exhilarating, knowing that I could still be my shy self but use that to my advantage. I could be coy and give my wonderful man amazing pleasure.

I pushed him softly onto the bed and asked him to sit comfortably. I went and fetched the journal, and I was so excited that I practically hopped back to the bed and climbed onto his lap, facing him. I put my bum and flower close to his manhood, and I could feel his shorts straining against the strength of his bamboo. I pressed myself tightly against him and opened the journal. Then I looked back into my hubby’s eyes, and he was wonderstruck. I, his shy little minx, was reading her secret journal to him. He was about to hear my secret desires for him.

His hands began to wander along my thighs and hips and grazed the outline of the breasts beneath my towel. He was revved up, and he needed me in his body and soul. I flipped to a random page and read out loud to him,

“Let’s see what I wrote in here… oh, alright. This one was very early, 26 July. I kissed him before he left for work this morning, and I think it was the best kiss we have ever had. I felt his lips graze mine and his tongue probe my mouth. It was as if we were lost in each other, slowly and passionately making love through our lips…”

I looked up at him, and his eyes were glued to my bosom. Cheeky boy… I used a finger to raise his chin up, gave him a long sultry look into that handsome face, and kept reading,

One day I want to climb onto his lap, face him, and look deep into those dark cocoa eyes. I wish we could spend hours just like that, with my arms around his shoulders and neck, and his hands caressing my legs. But I do not want it to end there, I desperately want us to kiss, passionately and without restraint, like two lovers being released from their cages by God Himself, unabashedly kissing and caressing and grasping. I want his kisses to devour my face and neck, and I want to feel like a delicious dessert made only for him. A delectable cuisine I prepare every night, only for his eyes, only for his lips, only for his manhood. And I will be very happy, and very pleased, at the end of every night, by his wondrous loving.”

I looked back into his eyes, and closed the book, setting it on the nightstand table. I then put my hand on his face, and told him,“I think this little dream can be arranged, don’t you sweet?”

The man was tied up, and practically already making love to me.

“Sophia, I never knew that you thought of me like this… if I am being honest, I think of you like that, but it’s much less poetic. Trust me, it’s more than just, ‘she’s gorgeous with clothes on, even more so without them’; very crude,” he said with a hearty laugh.

That made me laugh, too. I felt loved knowing that I occupied his headspace, and even more so that God intended for this to be: for a husband and wife to always have each in their minds and souls, whether or not they are making love with each other.

“I do sweet, all the time. I love kissing you and hugging you and making love with you on our bed. I love this, right here, with me sitting on your lap and… our lips… just… inches… apart…” I said as I started leaning into him.

I closed the distance and our lips touched. It was electric. His hands instantly went for my bum, thumbing them before grabbing and massaging them as we kissed. It was the best kiss we had ever had up to that moment; it always is. His lips were devouring mine, and we were not even stopping to take a breath. My arms went around his strong, manly shoulders and held him tight as he ravenously nibbled at my lips. Then he really struck a rather steamy chord when he took my bottom lip between his and nibbled and licked it. He started kissing my bottom lip, alternating to my cheek. And to think, neither of us knew anything about sex, other than the very broad basics, just a few short months ago. God really did push us together, and it bore some rather sweet fruit. Oh, was it sweet…

I could feel the flood start to foment in my ladyplace, and I could feel his manhood protruding through his trousers, jutting towards my flower. We alternated sides, kissing and kissing for God knows how long. But I did not want it to end anytime soon.

I am not even sure why or how, but I started to gyrate back and forth, rubbing my parts along him and giving him a nice little showing. His big tree was standing up, almost as if it was saluting me. My hand on his chest, almost subconsciously, started to move lower until it rested on the massive manhood pushing his trousers up from his waist.

In panted breaths, I shyly asked, “sweet, can I… touch you… down…”

“Yes, of course,” he said with a chuckle, “I’m all yours.”

I felt so naughty, I had always wanted to touch him like that there, but I was too shy to. Maybe today, I felt like I could do this. I moved my hand over his manhood, brushing it. I could feel his strength, the hardness, the power held below his waist. The feeling of the heat, that passion he had for me, was amazing. I felt so happy knowing that I was the cause of this. He was starting to moan into my lips, and we both came back up from the deep dive into each other’s souls for a breath.

“Wow… I… did not expect that, Sophia.”

“Well then, what did you expect?” I gave him a coy look and giggled at his perplexed face.

He did not see this coming, and I am happy I could show this part of myself to him. He still looked a bit dumbfounded, but I wanted to keep it going. I lifted his chin and looked straight into his eyes. This was difficult for me to do, knowing that he would poke and prod my soul through my eyes, just as his manhood was aching to meet with my womanhood. I was aching for him, too.

“My sweet husband, I need you. I know you’ve had a less than stellar week… so I know how much you need me. I’m right here, baby.”

I then looked down at his shirt and started working away at the buttons. I slowly undid each one, occasionally giving him a glance. He was watching my hands fumble with them in clumsy nervousness, with that little grin on his face. I finally got his shirt off of him, throwing it to the side.

There will be a time for order and organizing but now is NOT the time. I wanted to be with him.

I then got off of his lap, and he undid his shorts, throwing them to the side of the bed. He laid me flat on my back, my towel barely clasped around my bosom. The towel was loose in the front, showing the ridge of my breasts. There was something even naughtier about this than just being open… only a peek for him at the moment, he will have to be patient for more.

He leaned down and kissed me, his hand delicately pulling the hair off of my face. As his lips moved to my collarbone, I moaned an involuntary, pleasure-driven, “Ohhhhhh….” It is a special sound, one that I cannot replicate on purpose, for he brings it out from me when he drives me insane with his abilities as a lover.

His right hand drifted to the towel, slowly untying it. I could feel it, and I liked it, but I was too busy with my hands entwined in his hair and grabbing his muscular chest and shoulders.

“Oh, baby, please. Kiss me, please…”

He groaned as his lips ate up his special meal, a deep and pleasured growl that only I bring out in him.

“Your neck tastes delicious. I love how you smell too.”

“I knew you would,” I said with a giggle.

I was particularly keen on touching his manhood again. I looked down and saw that it had formed a large shape in his boxers. Wow… it’s so big… I thought as I moved my hand towards it. Once I had my hands around it, I started stroking it, moving my hand around it. Then, I began slightly pulling on it, my hand going up and down along hubby’s hotrod and making him groan a bit more. Worried I was probably making him feel strange, or maybe hurting him, I stopped.

“Sweet, are you alright? I hope that didn’t hurt you…”

“No, baby, please don’t stop. That felt really nice.”

I laughed, knowing that I had him in the palm of my hands, literally. Wanting to give him more pleasure, I moved my hand in the same way, up and down his hotrod, as he put his head in my chest and moaned into my bosom. His hand was making small circles around my love pearl (yet another creative name we use for my clitoris lol).

“Yes, sweet, just relax and enjoy. Mmmm, you are really making me feel butterflies, sweet, your hands feel so nice on me…”

“You’re telling me…” he responded with a little laugh.

“I don’t even know what I am doing, but whatever it is, it seems I am doing it right,” I said as I laughed with him.

Neither of us knows what we are doing, but we find ourselves, our footing, as we make our way through a lovemaking session. Sometimes that means laughing, not knowing where to go but going into the unknown together. We let our souls, guided by God, guide us when enjoying one another.

I had my eyes closed in pure bliss, as we touched each other. This experience felt so peaceful, so serene. He then raised his head and kissed my cheek, then whispered into my ear, “Take them off, Sophia.”

I gasped at his request, biting my lip and turning red as a tomato at him asking. I wrapped my fingers around the waistline of his undergarment and pulled them down, trying my best to push them down his muscular thighs. But alas, my reach was not far. He lay down and pulled them off. In that time, I managed to move around and behind him. He turned to look at me.

“Darling, what are you doing?”

I looked down and giggled as I shyly removed my towel and laid it down in front of me as I spread my legs apart.

“Sweet, come… sit between my legs, right here…”

He hesitantly crawled to me and sat between my legs. I softly grazed my hands on his chest and bent him back onto my chest.

“Daring, what is this…”

“Sweet, I want you to relax. I want to try something if that’s alright.”

“Well, that depends on what it is exactly.”

“I want to make you happy, sweet! Will you let me?…”

“Erm… sure…”

I grasped his rod and started to move my hands up and down it, making him lean back onto me and moan. I had him just where I wanted him, and I was having fun giving him some relaxing pleasure after his long week.

I leaned in and kissed his cheek and his ear, nibbling on his earlobe and making him moan again and again. I then whispered with a lilt in my voice, “I wrote about this too, baby. Wanting to touch you down there and give you pleasure. I felt so giddy knowing that only I could ever do this for you. I love you, sweet!”

I pumped his manhood faster and faster, then slowing down and pausing between strokes like he would when he was kept in my tight vice. I wanted him to feel my hands just like he did my flower. I rubbed up and down, and I felt some of his desire in the form of a liquid on top of his bamboo. I took the honey and massaged it onto his rod, using it to reduce the friction. Wouldn’t want to friction burn the poor man!

I knew that my hand would not be like my flower, but I wanted to give him my embrace and try to emulate the sheer heavenliness he felt when deep inside of me. I loved watching us as we made sweet and intense love, the sight of my flesh receiving his thrusts, and he has told me how much he loved feeling me writhe in pure pleasure under his body, both of us losing ourselves in the act of love.

Whispering sweet words of love into his ears, I drew out his desire. His cries were hoarse and rough, making it known to me that whatever I was doing, I was doing it right. He started to tighten his legs, and his arms hooked around my legs; he was getting to his peak. I was getting very dewed up, but though I would not reach my own peak, I did not care. I wanted to give him happiness!

Tying my legs across his thighs, I did my best to hold onto him as the giant spurts of his love emerged from him. The sap burst out of his hard bamboo, shooting into the air above us, and I watched as it landed on his abdomen and my legs.

“Wow!” I whispered.

“Sophia, darling… damn that felt amazing!” he said, while his muscular chest heaved big breaths.

I giggled and responded, “I hope I made you feel good, sweet…”

“You don’t need to hope, you do that for me more often,” he said.

“Thank you, baby. You don’t know how much it means to me that I can do that for you.”

I turned his head and gave him a deep kiss, lacing our lips together once again.

“I suppose you did not get much out of that one, did you, Sophia?” he asked.

“I have made my husband happy. How many days do you do that for me and never ask for anything?”

“Thank you, Sophia, truly.”

“Please do not thank me; I am always here. You know that, sweet…”

“Of course I do. It’s what keeps me going some days.”

Untying ourselves from one another, I kissed his forehead, used the towel to clean up the mess, and returned to the bed. He then moved up and put his arm around me, as I cuddled onto his warm, masculine body.

I smiled at him, happy that I can be a source of peace, of safety—and yes, of sexy retreat—from the things he faces in his life. He deserves that from me.

He turned my face up from his chest, and said, “I love you.”

“Well, sweet I love you MORE!”

His face was serious, still, and his eyes pierced my soul. I was entranced by dark eyes and handsome countenance.

“I love you most, darling.”

I hugged him tightly, as his arms engulfed my form. I felt like crying, but I prayed to the Lord, thanking him for my husband. He held me as I fell into a deep sleep, my dreams filled with our love and passion.

Writing in that journal has been a great way for me to process my sexual feelings towards my husband, and help me become more comfortable with how we have sex. Not to mention, those Jasmine buds smell divine and remind me of him when he is at work or when we are not physically together. As you can tell, I am smitten.

I find that while writing, I think about the small things he does that really make my heart flutter, the things that he does because he feels it’s right or just because it’s who he is. The soft touch of his hand on the small of my back, the way he looks at me with those chocolatey eyes, the tender love of him offering his arm to me, the tight hug from behind when I am in the kitchen. All things that my sweet does that are truly noteworthy.

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9 replies
  1. Lori D. says:

    God Bless you and your husband Soph Tea. I love this story, it's wonderful and written from the heart. In our bedroom there is a cedar, or hope chest, that my dad made for me when I was 16. It holds all of my past and current treasures, including the countless letters and greeting cards my husband and I exchanged before and after we were married.

    • SophTea says:

      That is so romantic 🥰 hope chests are amazing gifts! I just know that one day I will want to read them, or show to them to my children as a way to tell them how we met! I am so glad to hear you hold your treasures in one, and I hope you have countless more treasures to add to it! Much love from me to you and your beloved ♥

    • SophTea says:

      😅 I do as well, and my hubby knows it too! The smell reminds of me of his kindness and how he cares for me 🥰 God bless, have a wonderful day!

  2. LovingMan says:

    Great story. Lovemaking is not always PIV sex. Lovemaking can be lots of activities like your story described..

    A few years ago my therapist suggested that I start a sex journal. It has really helped me appreciate my wife’s and my sexual encounters. Like you it has been the source of many of my stories I put on MH. I do have to modify them first though.

    I want to add that Your love for your husband shines in this story!

    • SophTea says:

      I can empathize with this on every level, my journal helps me express feelings I may be too shy to share with my husband, or maybe am eager to share someday in the near future! I also modify them a tad, I do not want to post all of the details 😅 but nonetheless they serve as inspiration. I am glad you enjoyed the story, sending prayers and love 😊

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