Modern Experience, Old Memories

Let me set the stage: My wife of 40-plus years and I have a large room addition with multiple windows on three sides.  We spend a lot of time in our favorite room, watching TV, reading, and occasionally, making love.

For years, my wife worried about someone seeing in from the houses around us if we consummated sexual activities in our favorite room, and on our favorite couch. The multiple windows have a reflective coating to prevent such problems, and just to be sure, I have gone into the yards around us to check out the view.  So, I know that the window treatments do their job in any amount of daylight.  The only way someone could see us in our sunroom is if it was pitch dark outside and all the lights on in the room.  Secondly, our yard is a half acre with a 6-foot privacy fence.

A lot of Janet’s trepidation about public viewing of our private adventures in our addition has dissipated somewhat with the installation of individual shades on the windows. Most of the time, the side of the room facing the closest neighbors has the shades partially down due to the amount of bright light that comes in those windows. So now when we sit on the couch, she feels more secure about anyone seeing in, and the room is still filled with diffuse light, perfect for EVERY activity that might occur, planned or unplanned.

It was about 9 o’clock on a weekday morning when my beautiful wife was sitting on the couch, using her iPad to catch up on the news.  I was in jeans and a long sleeved shirt; she had on a thin, light-mauve-colored long-sleeved pullover top.  It was form fitting and nicely accentuated Janet’s buxom curves.  The tight, black workout pants she was wearing were like a second skin on her shapely legs.  We were having a nice conversation, but honestly, concentrating on anything else but her lovely form was becoming nearly impossible.

After a bit, Janet became restless on the couch and complained of her upper back and left shoulder area being sore.

“Hmm,” I murmured.  “I believe the onsite masseuse has an opening in his schedule!”

My wife smiled.  “Does he now?” she asked, half smiling.

“Oh, yes…” I grinned, “I’m sure of it!”

Janet continued the verbal repartee.  “If he’s so good, why does he have an opening so early in the day?”

“Well,” I answered, “I know for a fact he reserves time for his favorite, most special clients—any time, day or night!”

Janet turned so she was sitting at a right angle to the back of the couch and leaned onto the wide leather armrest with her forearms.

“I just need a little work on my left shoulder,” she reported.

Of course, I was very enthusiastic to provide my wife with a nice therapeutic massage to allay her discomfort.  I turned so I was also at a right angle to the back of the couch, facing her back.  With my right foot on the floor, I slid my left leg between Janet and the back of the couch, settling my lap snug against her rump.  Then I raised her shirt and rolled the edges so it stayed up above her shoulders.  Beginning on her back rub, I concentrated along either side of her spine and moved out along her ribs and shoulder blades.  I love working her lower back as well, massaging and caressing her milky white flesh above her waistband and out along her lower torso.

After methodically working upwards to her shoulders, I found that her bra straps impeded my diligent fingers.  My wife’s advice was, “Just work under them.”  To get to the sore areas below the left shoulder blade,  I needed to slide my hand and fingers totally under the wider back strap of the undergarment.  I did note that Janet was wearing her mauve-colored bra, obviously so it would blend in under the thin, similar colored top.  The clasp was a four-hook affair, very necessary for proper support of her ample bosom.

As I worked my fingers under the back strap, I noticed that the fabric of that part of the undergarment (between the thicker edges) was stretchy and relatively  see-through. The discovery pleasantly surprised me, especially when Janet directed me to work farther around the side of her torso to get to a specific sore spot located under her armpit—and VERY close to her wonderful, large left breast.

I could also tell that the translucent quality of the fabric extended all the way around to the cup area, so  I was soon hoping to see more of THAT view—and hopefully,  her left nipple—through the sheer material.  What had started out as a truly therapeutic massage was becoming more sensual.  My quandary was that I (almost) always do try to keep my truly therapeutic, no-strings-attached massages separate from my “regular”  massages.

Of course, we both realize from our marital experiences that any regular, nightly massage MAY become more sensual and lead to other activities.  Over the years, the line has been crossed many, many times, but always with my wife’s willing consent. That’s why I believe any excuse to give my wife a back rub is great. I truly enjoy serving her this way, but it also offers at least an opportunity for sexual fun.  But this morning, I had honestly offered the massage to eliminate the  pain she was experiencing.  It just didn’t seem right to the honorable part of my husbandly brain to simply switch gears and try to go into make-out mode—at least until I KNEW her desires and intentions.  I didn’t want to spoil our rhythm and future massages by being impatient on this particular morning.

However, despite my good intentions, my libido was naturally creeping upward, especially when she kept insisting I work on that one sore spot.  Looking back now, I am fairly certain that was my wife’s delightful plan all along: to sow the seeds of sensuality and watch me agonize over the choices and how to try to reap the harvest, so to speak.

So, as I worked my hand and fingers over (and sometimes under) the strap, I made sure not to encroach onto Janet’s actual breast but kept stopping short, just at the junction where her heavy globe began to form from her torso.  Plus, sliding my hand and fingers under her undergarment’s tight back strap was proving to be more difficult than I initially anticipated.  My wife noticed my difficulties, and asked if I was having problems.

“A little,” I murmured.  Trying very hard to sound neutral, so Janet wouldn’t take my comment as a come-on, I said, “You know, this massage would be much easier if I just unhook this strap…”

“I’m sure,” my wife answered, “but if you just take the strap loose, it will feel like everything’s all tangled up under this shirt. And you know how I hate that!” She didn’t offer any more solutions.

My next comment was actually totally innocent of sexual thoughts when I replied with the obvious. “Well,  you could just take your shirt off!”

“Hmm,” Janet murmured, obviously gauging my intentions. “I’ll take my shirt off, but the bra stays on.”

“Okay,” I replied and quickly helped her slip the top off and set it aside.

She leaned forward once again, and I resumed her massage.  At least I wasn’t emcumbered by the annoying shirt any longer! Soon I was back to working my fingers under that same tight back strap and as far forward as I dared.  A hand on her lower torso gave counter pressure while I dug deep over and around her shoulder blade.  I was beginning to really enjoy the sight of my wife’s profile in that tight, plum-colored bra. Leaning around, I could steal some nice views of her ample bosom hugged by the undergarment.  Now, I could see her left nipple straining at the fabric!  But I just kept working diligently next to her wonderful left mammary.

After a few more minutes of massaging and enjoying the view of her in her attractive undergarment, I paused.  “How’s your shoulder feel?” I asked, my voice a little hoarse from my own excitement.

“It’s much better, thank you!” Janet said.  Then she  continued, “The soreness is gone,  but I still need a little more… something.”

My ears and my erection perked up.  “A little extra?”  I murmured.

“Mmmm… maybe,” My bride murmured back.

That sounded promising, so I decided to test the waters.  I started rubbing her back and left shoulder, but in a more sensual, caressing way.  I slid my left hand along her side and then all the way around until it was just below her left breast and very slightly pressing upward against the heavy globe of flesh.  My wife’s nipples sit below the midpoint of the curves of her large breasts, and I felt her stiffening left nipple poking slightly downward, against the web of my hand.

Nuzzling her shoulder, I offered, “Maybe you need something more than a back rub.” I mouthed into the soft skin of her neck as I started to gently work the clasp of her bra.

“Slow down.” My wife said, softly.  “You know I don’t like it when you just jump into everything.”

I DO know her usual preferences for slower sexual advances, but I had already been working several minutes with the massage.  To this hungry husband, it was time to move forward, but I had misjudged HER perception of how long we had been enjoying foreplay.  To my demure Christian wife, who sometimes likes to pretend that sex and lovemaking mean much more to me than to her, I had jumped ahead too quickly, even though I thought I had received unspoken permission to proceed.  Neither of us were upset; we were just doing the age-old married couple’s “dance” that always precedes the eventual culmination of sexual desires.

I immediately slid my right hand away from her bra clasp and resumed caressing her lower back.  I did keep my left hand strategically in place below her left breast.  “So sorry,” I said, “I didn’t mean to rush things.”

“Really?!” Janet smiled, intentionally sounding incredulous. “That would be the first time in a long time!” she said in a joking manner.

Why is it a man always has to be reminded of the previous errors of his ways?  Her comment made me reflect back to an earlier time in our relationship when I was impatient on a fairly regular basis.  I nuzzled at the side of her neck while my right hand felt her back and my left hand moved higher against the curve of her chest.   I slowly cupped her left breast, giving it a slight lift and making sure my palm pressed against her now fully erect nipple.

“So…” I breathed, “do you remember the first time I touched your chest?”

“Mmm-hmm…” My wife answered, “but tell me how YOU remember it.”

I kept some pressure against her breast as I recounted my version of the tale.  “We had been dating awhile, and you dropped me off at my house in your car late one night. Then we went to kiss goodnight.” I paused to let her mind catch up.

“Those kisses always took awhile,” Janet sighed, referring to the many hot-and-heavy make out sessions we enjoyed while dating.  That was the young, unbridled, impatient me! Always working above the waist, with us mostly clothed, but still hot and heavy!

My hand began gently squeezing her breast as I continued the story.  “You were wearing that brown and cream-colored striped sweater…”

Janet blurted, “You remember EVERY tight sweater I’ve ever worn!”

“I DO!”  I chuckled, then went on.  “I remember while we were kissing, I got more and more excited and decided to caress your chest right through that sweater!”

“For someone  dating a good little Christian girl, you were VERY forward!” my wife accused, smiling as she remembered those days.  “I should have kicked you out of my car!” she added.

“Maybe…” I smiled back. “But you didn’t!”

I was now reaching around and fondling both breasts with my hands.  Janet leaned back against me, so that her lower back put pressure against the erection straining inside my jeans.  My retelling of our dating days was working nicely to set the tone for today’s adventures.

“Instead,” I continued, “You let me play with your breasts while we kissed.”

My wife interjected HER memory. “I didn’t LET you,” She corrected me with a grin. “YOU took… ‘liberties’!”

In reality, I WAS forward, but she enjoyed my passionate advances back then just as much as now!  “Maybe I did, but you never complained,” I said. “And that night, your nipples was so hard and so long that I felt them all the way through that sweater AND your bra!”  Mentioning that long ago memory of our pre-marital naughtiness was really increasing our arousal, but especially my wife’s.  “In fact,” I confessed, “I nearly exploded that night!”

I felt a hint of a tremble from her as I now gently squeezed that same erect tip, milking it with combined pressure from my fingers and thumb, using friction from the thin soft fabric of the undergarment.

“Weren’t YOU the lucky boy?” Janet sighed, her breathing picking up with the memory and the fact that I was caressing her left nipple the same way. Except currently, that super sensitive nubbin was only protected by the sheer fabric of today’s much thinner bra!

“I’m STILL the lucky boy…” I breathed near her ear.  I punctuated my comment by using my thumbs to firmly tweak both nipples at once through the thin fabric of her undergarment, just as I had done so many years ago.

Janet moaned softly with the sweet little sound of desperation I’d been waiting to hear, the special noise she makes when her entire body and mind gives in to my exquisite nipple play.  Forty years, and still the same little expression of her delightful surrender!  She leaned farther back, tighter against my chest, allowing more access to her large bosom still trapped in that light-plum-colored bra.

The contrast between her pale skin and the color of the fabric highlighted the cleavage of her mounds, and I caressed all the soft, uncovered flesh I could see before going back to the ends of her breasts. I still fondled her chest through the fabric, but now began using just my fingertips to caress and tease her hard, erect nipples.  More moaning escaped my wife’s lips, but I just kept up the light touches.

“Haaauuuh…” My wife gurgled. “You can take off my bra now!”

I was glad to hear her verbal surrender, but her delay in giving me permission and rising excitement had already triggered the teasing husband that lives inside of me.  I had already offered to remove her bra minutes ago. Now, with her melting under my touch and HER wanting the garment removed, I decided it would be nice to make her wait a little longer for THAT favor.

“That’s alright,” I said softly, matter-of-factly, while keeping up the nipple play. I breathed the words into her ear and  neck, “I can wait.”  My breathy comment was a subtle hint between long married spouses.  I didn’t have to explain my hesitation.  From that short phrase, she knew she had missed her opportunity, and now I was content to take my time to tease that bra off of her beautiful torso.

Janet groaned lightly in recognition of her “mistake,” probably now wishing that she had given up her undergarment when I first offered.  I smiled to myself.  Maybe next time she would be a little more “cooperative” with my loving intentions.  If not, oh well; I considered us winners either way.

I slid out from behind my wife, allowing her to settle back on the couch while I stationed myself at her right side, kneeling on the floor.  In this new position, I had all the freedom needed to have a wonderful time exploring and tantalizing Janet’s  entire body.  I leaned over her, sliding my hands over her lower torso and belly, caressing her skin.

“Where was I?” I teased, my hands creeping up to fondle her breasts once more. My wife moaned a little.  “Oh,” I said, “now I remember.”  I resumed kneading her globes through the fabric, my thumbs brushing each nipple.

Janet was breathing faster.  “Can we move upstairs?” she murmured in a last attempt to regain some control over her situation.

“No,” I answered softly, “we’ll just stay here.”  I enhanced my statement by using just my fingertips to lightly scratch at each swollen, erect nipple again.

My guess that her love of my talented nipple play would keep her in place proved correct.  More teasing from me, more groaning from her, and she just lay there, obviously giving up on the idea of us moving from the couch.  Since my idea was working so well, I couldn’t resist adding to her excitement by continuing to recount my dating memories.

“Oh, my,” I sighed, “I STILL remember how excited I was the first time I felt your nipples!  So hard and so long, even through those thick bras back then!  I almost couldn’t wait until we were married!”

My wife moaned from the memory of our decades old dating escapades refreshed in her mind and my current, relentless teasing on her most sensitive points.  Janet was soon seething in arousal.

“You never had any willpower,” she gurgled, beginning to reach up with her right hand to play with my pecs.

“Not when it comes to YOUR incredible chest!” I stated, now kneading her mounds through the bra.

I will always be the first to admit my infatuation with my wife’s large bosom, but honestly, it’s all about the effect my attention and desire has on her.  We discovered early on how much Janet enjoys extended breast and nipple play, so my obsession with her sensitive chest is VERY entwined with how my amorous talents make her feel SO desired and SO aroused.  I feel our passionate relationship is a true gift from God, and it’s why I am so intent on keeping it burning.

I slid my right hand down to her legs. Those shapely limbs were very attractive in the tight workout pants, and I caressed up and down but soon stayed mostly on her thighs.  When I let my hand slip between them, Janet parted her legs to allow more freedom.  I massaged the soft inner flesh, feeling her muscles, then moved higher, exploring her vulva through the thin fabric of her underwear and the pants.  Janet moaned anew from that activity, and I stoked her fire with some more verbal foreplay.

“If you’d been wearing these pants back then, I would have been a goner,” I murmured while using my fingertips to perform a light, scritchy-scratchy motion on her protected slit.  Janet’s eyes were wide and glistening with desire. I added, “Thanks for making me wait for THIS until we were married!”

Referring to Janet’s most intimate body parts in the third person ALWAYS sends her arousal skyward.  Rather than showing disrespect,  it shows that no matter how much we are content with loving our personalities, I also crave to show my passion in a purely physical, highly sexual way.  And my comment served as a reminder of how great a gift it was to wait for our marriage before fulfilling my union with her beautiful, God given body!

I will admit, we had some pretty heavy petting/make-out sessions while dating.  I never felt we were in danger of crossing the line,  but I also know even good girls (and boys trying to be good) can succumb to their emotions and hormones, especially when they have a ravenous fiancé (me) constantly pushing their buttons.

In reality, I knew how Janet felt back then, and even though I wasn’t a Christian when we met, I respected her and her wishes.  I would have never intentionally done anything to jeopardize our relationship. She was such a genuinely good, God-loving person. And the ultimate physical delights were undeniably going to be ours on our honeymoon.  That’s still doesn’t mean it was easy for either of us to wait.  But, back to the current day where we no longer had to wait!

As my fingertips teased her lower parts through the workout pants, my other hand kept busy on those bra-covered breasts.  I fondled each globe, pinching and tweaking her erect nipples through the thin, plum-toned fabric.  My hand stayed busy at her vulva, and I could feel just a vague hint of her moistness seeping through her athletic pants.

“Ohhhh, yeaaah,” I murmured in husbandly satisfaction at her body’s response.

My wife was enjoying my attentions, trying to keep up by playing all over my torso.  She was at a distinct disadvantage as she had to reach over across her body with her left hand while bending  her right arm a certain angle to get that hand on my chest.  We were both moaning, and very excited, but I was way ahead in our married-couple’s game, and Janet was REALLY starting to melt with pleasure.

There was only one thing Janet could do to try to even the playing field, and that was to reach down with her right hand and began feeling my erect penis through my jeans.  Once she located my shaft, she held on and squeezed it firmly. “It’s time to take these off!” Janet stated, and began undoing my belt.

I stood up and had those jeans off in record time. Then I took hold of the waistband of both her pants and underwear, pulling them downward, growling, “Your turn!”

My wife raised her hips up and helped wiggle her pants off the rest of the way.  I pulled my shirt off, knelt again near my wife’s right side, and resumed tantalizing her still covered bosom.

Janet looked up at me and moaned, “My bra needs to come off.”

The look of deep arousal on her face and pleading in her eyes was exquisite!  But I just kept teasing at those stiff nipples with my fingertips, pinching and tweaking, lightly scratching over her tips.

My patience paid off when my wife whispered, “Pleeease.”  I looked at her face and eyes, still so sweet with anguish but now gleaming with sensual avarice.

“Now who’s lost their willpower?”  I asked nicely, just to coax an admission from her. She knew what I wanted.

“I have…” my wife gurgled, her voice low with arousal.  She was left with only begging to convince me to do more.  “Please!” she said again in a small but fervent voice.

That extra little bit of intensity was enough for me. I shifted closer to the couch.  “Turn this way.” I urged.

Janet raised up on her right elbow and tilted toward me.  I leaned closer, so my bare chest was unmistakably close to her face.  My bride of many years knew exactly what I desired as advance payment for the bra-removal services soon to be rendered!  She reached her left hand behind my back to hold me still while she went after my chest and nipples with her talented mouth, lips and tongue!

And I mean talented! In hardly any time, my ravenous partner had me moaning and groaning in satisfaction.  Her tongue was on a mission to please, teasing my nubbins and swirling over my areolae as her lips kissed and nuzzled. Then it was her open mouth taking turns on one side and then the other, covering each nipple while she combined an exquisite light sucking with the motions of her talented tongue!  To encourage more cooperation, she moved her left hand down and squeezed my throbbing male organ while she continued her assault on my chest.   Soon I was thoroughly heated up!

As promised, I reached behind her, unfastened her bra, and pulled it forward.  Janet helped in removing that last undergarment, and I was treated to the most lovely site of her large breasts as they fell free of the manmade encumbrance.  My wife was still leaning toward me, her right arm extended, her upper torso pressed against the couch.  Janet’s right breast poured out along the cushion while her left one hung from her torso, a succulent fruit waiting to be tasted.  Her left arm rested along her side.

I gazed at those pale torpedoes of flesh, with each light pink nipple distended and yearning for attention.  Keeping my fingers slightly bent and loosely together, I caressed each breast and its tip with just the backs of those fingers.  Janet sighed and moaned lightly as I continued a gentle, constant brushing.  After a bit, I spread my fingers so I could capture each hardened tip in the openings between a couple of digits.  Her nubbins were now peeking at me from in between my curled fingers.  With the backs of my hands still facing Janet’s chest, lightly pinching and pulling her nipples with the sides of my fingers this way provided them a unique sensation. More importantly, my beautiful wife found it very arousing, judging by her heavier breathing through parted lips, deeper moaning, and the wonderful glazed look in her eyes.

“Now, this is fun…” I murmured.

After a little more playing this way, my wife gurgled, “Auuh. When are you going to use your mouth?”

It was a very nice offer, but I was still in a very teasing mood.  I turned my hands so my palms faced her chest and recaptured each nipple between a finger and thumb.   I just looked at my wife’s chest, enjoying the sight of those tormented pink nubs being tweaked and pulled by my fingers. It was obvious I wasn’t going to jump at her every whim.  My  husbandly mind wanted to reinforce that she was still at my mercy.

I leaned in and grazed her left breast with my lips, torturously close to the base of her nipple still stretched taut between my finger and thumb. Then I leaned away, and could almost hear my wife’s inner voice screaming for my lips!

“I don’t know,” I teased.  “Probably soon.” I could sense Janet’s unspoken sensual agony and knew she was trying to decide if she should resume  begging to nudge me along the way. “Maybe.” I murmured, as I released those overworked tips, just to add a little bit more doubt in her mind, and a little more craving in her wonderful body.

Instead of her resistance crumbling, my wife simply raised her left arm up from her torso and sensually stretched it up and draped it back over her head, just like the very memorable scene with Kate Winslet in the movie ‘Titanic’.  Janet made a perfect line for my eyes to follow, from her face to her elbow, down to the curves of her magnificent breasts and the enticing light pink nipples God had placed perfectly for my enjoyment.

Her erotic motion, as small as it was, had an enormous effect on my already raging libido!  I was thoroughly enjoying the arousing pose as she reclined on the couch.  I am also pretty sure that my wife had bent her shoulders back and pushed her chest out just a little, because it seemed like her left breast looked even bigger and was a tad closer.  Along with the stretch, Janet’s eyes bored into mine, in a “What are you going to do with me now?” expression.

She was obviously countering my earlier teasing ways with some of her own.  It wasn’t fair.  I had spent all this time working her into such a frenzied state, and with one simple move and one extra-seductive look, our roles were reversed, and I was now the helpless, craving one. And I LOVED every bit of her essence, her seductiveness.

That was the last straw for this ravenous husband!  Any thought of continuing to hold off from her succulent flesh went up in my flames of desire!  It had been an act of extreme self-denial to control my own desirous mouth for this long.  With both of us so excited,  I was no longer interested in playing  the “making Janet wait for it” game.  My resistance melted like butter on a hot skillet!

I was ravenous for her upper body. I kneaded those globes thoroughly, and my mouth, lips and tongue quickly followed. Those nipples were already long and engorged from all my previous teasing; they deserved  a gentle touch. I nuzzled, licked, lapped, kissed, and sucked until I had them swollen even more—all to a beautiful symphony of Janet’s (and my own) sounds as she moaned and sighed and whimpered in delight from my hungry mouth.

I accompanied her with my own helpless moans, groans, growls and coarse panting of submission and excitement!  Janet also gurgled a few “Oh, YEAH’S!” as she allowed me to satiate my desires before turning onto her back.  I didn’t follow those wonderful treats but instead leaned over and began kissing and nuzzling at her deep bellybutton.  My wife rested her left leg on the top of the backrest of the couch and kept her right leg bent and angled out so her foot could rest on the floor.  I saw the place on the couch between her thighs that I  was given to perform my husbandly duties.

I kissed my way from her soft inner thighs to her belly, and then to her chest, and slowly shifted into the V-shaped gap with my knees.  Once there, I made sure my one knee was stable on the couch with my foot against the lower part of the armrest.  My left foot stayed on the floor. I leaned forward, bracing with my hands on the headrest and cushion of the furniture.  Janet watched my body intently, knowing from past episodes of sex on the couch the great leverage and strength this position would provide.

All of our dating memories playing out this morning made us as excited as our long-ago honeymoon, when our desires culminated after months of heavy premarital foreplay.  Like so many years ago, the tiny glimmer in my wife’s eyes was not trepidation but arousal and wondering  how much fervor I would express with this morning’s inevitable pounding of her own raging flesh!

I moved forward with my hips.  Janet reached down hungrily to guide my erection into her private slit, and as soon as I felt the head of my swollen organ pass the entrance, I thrust my hips between her legs!  We both groaned in satisfaction with the feeling of deep entry, and we began moving our hips in our familiar perfect rhythm. Janet let her leg slide down from the back of the couch and raised the other so both limbs could cling to me or her feet could press into the armrest as needed. The closeness of being nested together on the couch was wonderful!

We continued with our noisy exhortations as I plunged in and out with a steady, relentless passion!  At some point, my wife replanted her right foot on the floor. She used her strength to raise her pelvis to me, her vaginal muscles gripping and milking my stiff organ.

Janet’s hands stayed busy. She either clutched the couch for support or played with my chest to bring my excitement level to match hers.  We reached our peaks at essentially the same time. Our sounds of joy met as we crested the tidal wave of pleasure and coasted down into the warm, calmer waters of our afterglow.

We lay together for a brief rest while recuperating from our hard mid-morning “workout.” Finally, it was time to untangle ourselves from each other.  As we separated, I couldn’t help but groan in satisfaction as I sat with my rear on the couch.

“Oooh, my,” I said, “that was wonderful!”

“Yeah…” My wife murmured dreamily. “Thanks for a great back rub!”

“Yeah,” I replied. “You’re welcome. I hope I didn’t stress your shoulder with all that…”

“It’s fine,” My wife said. “In fact, the tension in my body is all gone.” She smiled, definitely referring to our just finished, body-draining sexual escapades.

“I just…” I started.

My wife of many years interrupted me.  “I know. You just couldn’t resist!” she finished my sentence, not for the first time in 40-plus years.  “I know you have NO willpower when it comes to my chest!” Janet said with satisfaction.

“You’re right,” I admitted. “I am totally under your spell… But not just because of your chest!”

“Mmm,” Janet murmured. “I know. You love me for who I am. And I know you really mean it!”

“I do,” I said.  “Your essence IS why I love you, but it’s also what keeps me so excited about making love to you!  When you give yourself to me in a physical way, it’s truly like a religious experience we are sharing. It’s so beautiful. A true gift from God!”

“That’s probably why it was so hard to wait when we were dating,” My wife mused.  “We knew we were going to be together!”

“Yeah, but I’m so happy that we waited!” I continued. “Thanks for holding me off!”

“It’s okay!” Janet said. “But it wasn’t easy!  You were incorrigible!  You were consumed with desire.  True desire!”

“That’s pretty much the way I felt…” I confirmed.

Then, my wife smiled. “But, you WERE after my boobs!” she accused.

“Yeah,” I admitted, smiling. “But you can’t blame me for THAT!”

“Oh, I don’t!” Janet said. “You’re just a man!” she teased.

“And don’t forget the rest!” I stated.

“What?” she asked.

“Forty years later,  I am STILL after your boobs!” I said.