Empty nest fun
We’ve just sent our youngest off to college, and so we’re starting to get used to a quieter home. With my wife’s mom living with us, seldom is the occasion when we have the house totally to ourselves. But just such an occasion presented itself a few weeks ago. I elected to take full advantage of the situation.
She had gone to visit grandkids in another state, and so two opportunities immediately presented themselves to my mind.
First, I had the house to myself while my beloved was at work!
Second, I had time to prepare for an absolutely epic fuck when she got home!
Within a rather short time, opportunity number two more or less obviated the chance of doing anything productive during the day. My body was in a state of arousal for hours, and I couldn’t concentrate on my work. So instead, I gave my attention to imagining and planning our time that evening. What to do, what to do?
The answer unfolded as I contemplated the incomparable delight I experience pleasuring her orally. What, I began to imagine, might be the optimum way for her to enjoy this experience after a day of work?
In our three decades together, I’ve learned that sex is about so much more than sex. It’s about attentiveness to every detail, of care for each other, and awareness of the things that matter well before skin touches skin. How is she feeling? How in general is life going? What has her day been like? How does she need to be cared for?
So I started by simply sending some texts letting her know I was thinking of her and love her. (I’ve come to learn that getting turned on is a lovely reminder to spontaneously say or text “I love you!”, no strings attached.) As the day wore on, each subsequent text hinted that the evening would be fun. “We have the house to ourselves tonight!” became “can’t wait to see you!” and later “I’ve got plans…” and so on. (Let us never lose sight of the fact that foreplay is basic psychology, the body’s and mind’s way of communicating to our beloved “you are precious.”)
Thank you, dear reader, for tolerating that contemplative foray. Now for what actually happened.
I closed the window and door curtains and placed candles all around the main floor of our house. Next, I cleared and cleaned the kitchen counter (and the rest of the kitchen, too. Every experienced married guy knows a clean house is an instant turn-on for his wife). From there, I took couch cushions and lined them up on the countertop, and grabbed pillows from the bedroom. Tested out the comfort level: yes, this would work. I then stowed everything within close distance and rearranged the countertop.
Fast forward. I’d prepared a really good dinner for her when she got home. We’re talking pan-seared scallops over rice and steamed vegetables, with lights down low and candles lit. By this point, I’ve been turned on most of the day and realize that I’ve got to get my beloved’s pot to boil, so I take it slow. We reconnect over dinner; the heat is up and the fire is lit, so we can just relax and enjoy. I tease that I’ve got a great dessert prepared for her. She takes the hint and decides that there’s not much need to wait too much longer.
I say, feel free to change into something more comfortable. I’m going to enjoy my dessert. She goes upstairs.
I whip out all the cushions and pillows and arrange them on the countertop.
She comes down in a camisole I’d gotten her a few months back, looking absolutely delicious.
She looks at the countertop, a little bewildered.
I say, time for my dessert. She lies down, nestling into the pillows. She’s propped up with pillows against the cabinets, totally comfortable. This way she’ll have the best view.
Now disrobed, I start by straddling her and kissing her long and slow. There is no rush. But already I am at full mast, and she clasps my dick and rubs it up and down her sternum and across her luscious breasts. We kiss long and wet and hungrily.
Eventually I begin my journey south. Left breast, tongue moving in slow circles. Tickling her nipple before a wide, then smaller suck, then barely biting the tip with my teeth. Right breast, same motion. Now, slowly, my hands on her abdomen, kissing her belly. I feel her diaphragm move as she breathes, in and out, picking up some speed.
From there, my face moves to her loins. I am in no rush. The height of the countertop is such that I can enjoy the sight, the taste, the smell, the sound, and the feel of her for as long as she desires.
My tongue circles around her vulva, moving clockwise. She has thousands of nerve endings in her lips alone, and I intend to touch each one in turn.
My nose moves along her inner thigh; I exhale hot breath up and down, then return to the outer lips. I move to her inner lips, using the tip of my tongue to trace the outline, up and down, up and down. I spend a good bit of time simply enjoying and building her desire. Twenty minutes? Thirty? I watch her reactions and don’t really care how long it will take.
Next, I “paintbrush” both inner and outer lips, parting them to reveal the opening beneath. By now, her juices have begun to flow, and the taste is addictive. A great encouragement and stimulant to keep going. I lick from bottom to top, the tip of my tongue now flicking her clit. I have learned to build up to going directly for her clit. Now it is obvious that she is ready. Hungrily licking and sucking, I begin to devour it.
My hands move from her legs, now straddling my face, to the pubic bone, pressing my hand down on her. Next, I move my hands up to her breasts, kneading and squeezing them in stereo and then gently pinching each nipple while continuing to lick and suck with abandon all around her vulva. Moving my hands back down to her hips, I hold them in order to position my face for a deeper dive, plunging my tongue into her as far as I can.
If I could make my tongue longer to be able to taste all the way in, I would, but I have to be content with what I can reach. My mouth is as wide open as possible, my top lip reaching over her pubic bone as my tongue stretches in and out, in and out. I return then to paintbrushing and sucking with abandon.
She is breathing heavily now, and tells me to come up for air. Again I straddle her on the counter, dick now throbbing. I tell her that he needs attention too, and she is only too happy to oblige. So I kneel on the cushions and lean forward. She takes my dick into her mouth, slowly and then more rapidly sucking. My arms are reaching up to the cabinet, steadying myself as my dick plunges in and out of her mouth. She is looking as hungry as I was.
Her face is lit only by the fire and the candles around the room. Her bedroom eyes are stunning. She says, “let’s finish together.” I climb down, and then lift her off the counter. She is small enough that she can straddle me fully while I hold her under her bottom. We kiss, deeply, tongues wrestling with one another. I set her down, grab the cushions from the counter, and lay them in front of the fireplace. She lies down. I pause a moment and just look at her. Still gorgeous. Still!
She reaches up and grabs me by the dick and draws me down to her. She steers him down between her legs. Within nanoseconds I am moving my hips up and down, thrusting into her, now fully lubricated. Still, no rush. Why would I want this to end? But as nature takes its course, she is beginning to climax (again, I’ve lost count). I am right behind her.
At this point any conceit about taking good care of her needs have fallen to the wayside. My body is simply running at full speed toward a profound and sustained orgasm. It comes in waves, my eyes fixated on hers, her neck is cocked slightly up, eyelids fluttering. She breathes out her own ecstasy. “Ooooohhhhh, Ggggggoooodddd!!! Ooooohhhhh, Ggggggoooodddd!!!”
I am exploding, first powerfully like waves crashing on a shore, then insistently like water flooding a canal. My teeth are chattering, as if being rocked by a low-level earthquake. My eyes are squeezed shut, as though trying to hold the image of her pleasure from escaping my mind’s eye. God, how satisfying!
I collapse for a moment, before lifting my torso off hers so she can breathe more easily. My exhausted dick is still between her legs, and I can scarcely move him, wanting to feel all the aftershocks. I kiss her again. We stay there–what is the rush?–for who knows how long. The kids are away; we mice will play.
Hubbie here: Incredibly hot, YA, and thanks for this, your third story post. A great start. Please keep going!
I loved …
* the points in your “contemplative foray” were good …
— “… sex is about so much more than sex.” True that!
— “… foreplay is basic psychology, the body’s and mind’s way of communicating to our beloved “you are precious.” I would add, making sure she knows “I desire you more than any other woman! You are for me!” (Maybe that’s implied in “precious”, but I think saying the words is important.)
* “Next, I cleared and cleaned the kitchen counter (and the rest of the kitchen, too. Every experienced married guy knows a clean house is an instant turn-on for his wife).” Pro tip, for sure. I wrote about my naked servant provision for Queen herein, and it is clearly a great combo of serving her, and “enlightened self-interest”!
https://marriageheat.com/2023/12/21/who-are-all-these-naked-men/
* and finally, “ I am exploding, first powerfully like waves crashing on a shore, then insistently like water flooding a canal. My teeth are chattering, as if being rocked by a low-level earthquake. My eyes are squeezed shut, as though trying to hold the image of her pleasure from escaping my mind’s eye. God, how satisfying!”. Been there, done that, love it, too!
So again, thank you for a great post. Blessings and passion!
YA, I agree with everything Q&H said. You are absolutely gifted with words!
Thank you QandH and LM! It comes from the heart. Pun intended.
Nice! Very, very nice. I love the fore play, the preparation, and the description of your oral delights before you finished together. It sounds like you have a lovely marriage and I’m glad that you’re making the most of your empty nest 😉
Thanks, KM. Yes, it is indeed a lovely marriage. That's the key, isn't it?
Wonderful, I love that this story is primarily one of foreplay.
I can echo what QH said above. With the two paragraphs preceding "Thank you, dear reader, for tolerating that contemplative foray. Now for what actually happened." I think it's a good reminder to remember that the two of you aren't always on the same page and what can help you both get there. "In our three decades together, I’ve learned that sex is about so much more than sex." I would love a few stories that were nothing BUT expanding on this topic because it's one I don't really understand all the way.
I'll think about that, F-M. The snapshot is this: sex is never just about bodies. It's about persons. What QandH wrote above about cleaning the kitchen, for example, points to the ways that our entire persons and lives are implicated in the ways we make love to one another. I think this is one of the big problems with other sites, inasmuch as they suggest that sex is only about technique. It's about persons coming to know and trust one another in ways that open us to exploration and delight.
Choreplay! I think one of my siblings first clued me in to that term. I definitely spend a lot of time over the last 10-12 years trying to learn everything I can about sexual technique but on the emotional front (and considering I've never even dated) I'm sure I could use some work…
Choreplay–that's a hoot.
I was pretty much clueless about sex when we got married. So was she. Figuring it out together has been a central blessing of our married life. Focusing on developing as human beings in relation to God and one another is the axis around which our entire married life revolves. The technique evolves in due course.
We enjoyed the freedom of emptynesting. But then we built a house with our daughter and her family. Although we have our own apartment, it’s really fun when the family is not at home. Somehow the sex my wife n I share gets hotter in an empty house! So we can relate to your excellent story!
Right? An empty home has been so rare over the past couple decades that any time it's happened we're like "oh my God! The possibilities!"
For example, sometimes it's as simple as actually making sound during sex. That can be liberating when you're used to hushed tones for fear of waking up the child in the next room. I've found that talking during sex can be a major turn on. "Is this good?" "Do you like this?" It's been particularly helpful to me as I've come to learn the way she likes it when I go down on her. I don't have to guess. Listening to her as her body responds to me–breathing, groans, and even the occasional words–lets me know how much she is enjoying herself, and that works beautifully on my imagination.
What I loved about this incident in your married life was the focus on your wife's emotional needs. Too many husbands have not learned that. Just cleaning the kitchen was so thoughtful. I pray that men will learn this necessary aspect of marriage. It is truly so much more than just sex. Everything, even the commonplace chores, should be viewed as caring foreplay, on the part of both spouses. Then, because emotional and mental needs are met, the physical follows. Of course, I know I'm oversimplifying it, and being single, I can't speak from experience. But I sure do observe a lot, and most couples aren't getting it.
So true, LLL. The great blessing of married life is learning how to really care for another person. It’s our dress rehearsal for heaven.