Every fiber of my being stands on edge, leaving me floating through the livingroom as I light the candles. Thoughts of my husband brought me to this deliciously heightened state of arousal. The things I am about to do go beyond the mere sensuality of love making. They are the kind of dirty, naughty thoughts a woman usually doesn't share outside the confines of her boudoir.
For twelve, wonderful years, my husband has made me happier than I could have ever imagined. I knew he was the one, even on that very first day I met him. He is very handsome, but my attraction for him goes so much deeper than his admittedly pleasant, easy-on-the-eyes appearance.
Speaking of his eyes, I love the way they sparkle when he smiles at me, and the deep baritone in his voice can make my knees weak at the oddest of times. His love for his family, for me and our children, means more to me than anything else I could imagine. Kevin possess all of the qualities I've ever looked for in a man..
Satisfied now with the placement of my candles, I move to close the living room blinds. My love for Kevin fills my heart with romance just as strongly as it heats my arousal. They are one and the same, and I couldn't truly imagine feeling one without the other. This is why I have lit so many scented candles, and why I draw the drapes. I want the mood we share to fit the things I wish to do with my husband. Or maybe I should say, what I wish to do for him.
It is the one, last desire of his that I have never been willing to fulfill.
“Come on babe, just try it for me,” I remember him asking. He was kissing my neck, whispering his illicit desire in his deep, powerful voice.
Even then, the idea made me moist with excitement, but my lingering shyness wouldn't let me admit it.
"I... I just can't. I've never done anything like that before,” I told him, all the while gasping at his touch. My voice failed me then, but the look of fear on my face, and the worried shame in my eyes made him understand the depths of the taboo who was asking me to cross.
He's brought it up once in awhile as the years went by, but I've always given him that same, worried look, and he would let it go with nothing more than a gentle kiss on my cheek. Still, I know it is something he has always wanted.
Turning on a single lamp in the far corner, I sigh in content. Heading towards the kitchen, I try to be as quiet as I can. I don't want to disturb Kevin, not yet anyway. He's in the den, watching whatever sporting event that has caught his interest. His occasional cheers echo down the hall, telling me his team must be winning. That's my husband. Responsible and dedicated to his family as he is, he still finds time to act like a teenager.
Well, that's fine by me. Having him in a good mood is what I want. I grab the champagne bottle with two crystal flutes, and the chocolate covered strawberries.
As I move back into the living room, I wonder if it might be a little early in the day for champagne, but the twins are at their grandparents for the weekend. Why not, right? I adjust our overstuffed chairs, so that mine faces his, with just enough room in between for me to be able to touch him with my toes. I can't help but smile as I shake my head. This is something I have been wanting to do for weeks now, so I've had plenty of time to plan it all out.
My parents were delighted to take the kids. Mom didn't say anything when I told her that Kevin and I needed some alone time, but the way she smiled and nodded her head told me she knew exactly what that meant. I feel like I'm floating on cloud nine right now, wondering if this is what she meant when she spoke of marital bliss all those years ago.
I haven't even undressed yet and I already feel my pussy getting wet. Wearing nothing but my dressing gown, I feel my nipples growing hard against the silken fabric. It is a wonderful and decadent feeling, and I embrace it completely. My aching need is building, which is good because it makes me feel so much more comfortable about doing this for him.
As I was saying, Kevin first asked me to do this when we were still dating. I was taken aback and more than a little shocked. I can still almost hear the lewd excitement that resonated in his voice. I was confused and hurt for a while. No man had ever asked me to do such a thing. I just didn't understand it at all. It made me feel embarrassed and self-conscious, as if making love to me wasn't enough. He tried to explain it, once I'd calmed down. I grudgingly accepted that he meant no harm, but still, I wanted no part in it.
He let it drop for a long time. Years later though, after we were married, he asked me again. I'm not a prude by any means, but this just felt... icky to me. Once again, I told him no. That was all it took for him not to ask again. However, the thought has lingered in my mind ever since, slowly worming away at my resolve. Now that we've been together for so long, and he has even seen me give birth to twins, how could I be self-conscious about something so simple? It's not like he doesn't know I do it, even if I haven't done it in front of him.
Going into the bathroom, I unclip my hair, letting it fall thickly around my shoulders. Satisfied, I run my brush through it until my golden locks look like spun gold. It's always been one of my husband's favorite features on me. I make it a purpose to wear it down as often as I can for him. It's become more difficult with two young kids, but today I'm not a mom first, I'm a wife first. Today is all about my husband.
My short frame reflects back at me from the mirror. My dark eyes seem brighter today, almost lustrous as they sparkle in the artificial light. I take a deep breath, thinking it's time as I head back into the living room. I take one last look around the room, making sure everything is perfect and nodding happily in the certainty that it is. I loosen the ties of my gown, letting them slip from the knot and allowing it to lazily fall open as I recline in the chair. Then, I raise my bare leg casually over the arm. I feel so brazen now, like a little hussy who just wants to be fucked. It's the perfect pose for the occasion, I think.
“Darling, could you come into the living room, please?” I beckon my husband, my heart skipping a beat. The burning arousal I feel is all consuming. The pleasure of knowing this is something he has wanted for so long, and my need for him intensifying tenfold, come together in my mind. I find myself wanting this desperately.
I sit there with a glass of champagne in hand and my other playing over my breast. Kevin is going to be shocked when he sees me like this, and it's that look on his face that I'm so looking forward to seeing. I cannot wait share this with him.
****
Sunday afternoon's are my favorite time of the week. It is only on those quiet days that I can relax in my den and enjoy watching a game without being interrupted by the mundane pressures of my life. My wife is usually quite supportive of me in this. She says I need it. I suppose that's true, but I think she enjoys not having me under foot for a few hours each weekend as well.
That's why I'm a little surprised when I hear her soft voice call me from the living room. I'm sitting in my recliner with the cold neck of a beer bottle in my hand. It's the bottom of the seventh and we have two on with no out. We have their pitcher on the ropes, so I'm initially a little annoyed by her interruption.
There is something in the way she calls me though. The mirthful lilt in her voice, and the way she calls out 'darling' instead of my name, tells me she believes I'm going to like what she has to say. Turning the cold bottle up, I drain the last third of my beer before answering.
"Okay, Linsey. 'l'll be right there." I answer, still with my mind on the game. Well, what the hell, I decide. I need another beer anyway.
As I come down the plushly carpeted hall, I sense something is up. Linsey loves the sunlight, so the closed drapes and muted lighting are startlingly out of place. Then I see what she's set up on the shelves. "What's with the candles, hon," I begin, but stop cold when I see her sitting in the easy chair she's moved, facing mine from the center of the room.
I only see her from the side, at first. Her petite body is partially hidden as she reclines in the overstuffed chair. My first thought is that the flickering light of the candles in the otherwise muted darkness must be playing tricks on my eyes. As I move closer though, my heart begins to thrum in my chest as I realize this is no mirage.
With nothing but her thin, white robe partially covering her arms and shoulders, Linsey is comfortably reclining in the chair. Her beautifully toned, bare left leg is splayed open, resting over the richly padded arm. With her hand idly fondling her bare breast, she is sipping from a champagne flute.
Her wonderful body is low in the chair, almost laying in it really. Her thin robe lays open, brazenly exposing her body. Linsey's gorgeous blonde hair and pale skin are almost luminous in the reddish-gold candle light that washes over her.
I swallow hard as I look at her and once again thank whatever fate brought her into my life. Even after all our years together, I still never tire of gazing at her exquisite body. I look now, marveling at her breasts. Full and heavy, with rosy-pink, upturned nipples, they are perfectly sized for her petite frame. I watch as she rolls one between her finger and thumb, making it hard and distended with obvious arousal. "Isn't this a wonderful surprise," I say as I kneel in front of her.
Linsey's wide smile lights up her on face, but she says nothing. Instead, she holds the flute close to her, as if the tiny sliver of crystal can hide the rosy blush in her cheeks. 'How very adorable,' I cannot help but think. Even in her best attempt to appear as a slut for me, her natural shyness takes over. It's one of her many little nuances that I love so dearly.
I can feel my cock thickening in my pants as my hand moves up the supple skin of her thigh. She responds as she always does to my touch, and despite her embarrassment, I can see a flicker of wonton anticipation appearing in her sculptured face. Her mouth opens and she sucks in a quick breath as my touch glides upward, toward her fully exposed sex. Then, just before I can feel her growing wetness, she gently, almost reluctantly, pushes my hand away.
"No touching this time, Darling. Sit. I've poured a flute for you, so make yourself comfortable."
Not understanding her intent, I sigh deeply and take the single step needed to fall back into my chair. "Okay, hon," I say as I lift my glass. "What am I to do?"
Linsey drains her flute and then casually rolls the cold, damp glass over her nipples, shuddering at the chill on her tender buds. I can feel my eyes bulging in their sockets as I see this, and my cock begins grow hard . Speechless, I watch her nipples harden under the cold wetness and glisten in the light, standing proud on her breasts. "You get to sit back, my love, and watch me please myself for you."
*****
The look on his face is charming and I can't help but smile. I set my flute down, taking the bottle and pouring myself another glass, watching my husband get comfortable. With my nipples hardening like rocks, the soft touch of my palms grazes over them. The contrast from the coolness of the flute, to the warmth of my palms make the tips of my nipples tingle with satisfaction. I let out a soft cooing noise, feeling the heat of my husbands stare.
In this moment, I wish I could read his mind. His eyes are roaming my naked body, drinking me in, as if this was the first time he has ever seen me so exposed. I suppose, in this situation at least, it is. I toy with my nipples more, letting him soak me in, enjoying the brazen way he stares at me, and how he licks his lips each time I tweak my nipples.
“Do you like what you see?” I purr, my voice just above a hushed whisper.
He simply nods, a twinkle flashing in his eye. He is completely caught up in the moment. Eyes wild and hungry with lustful passion. It makes me feel beautiful.
Wanting to take my time, wanting us to share in this as long as possible, I move as though time has stopped all together. My fingers graze over my skin, bursting in flames with anticipation. I feel like such a little minx. My eyes glossing over, running over Kevin's body, taking him in. I notice his cock hardening in front of my eyes, even under his pajama bottoms. It stands tall, straining for release.
Licking my lips gently, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I wish he was stroking his shaft. I want to see how we differ from the way I please him to how he pleases himself. The mere thought of this makes me clench. With a whispering moan, I shiver, sending goose bumps racing through my body.
My whole body feels like it is on fire. White hot, dripping with pure, agonizing, fierce want for my husband. Sliding my fingers down over my mound, I open my lips, displaying myself to my husbands hungry gaze. I feel alarmingly exposed, but I find myself liking this kind of exposure and attention. Shameless, lewd and liberated, is what comes to mind. I should have done this so much sooner for him.
Circling my clit with my middle finger, soaking the length of it, I take pleasure in my hard, little nub. My hips join in, rolling with the circles my fingers make. Sucking on my lip once more, I moan out to Kevin. He stirs in his seat just as I slip two fingers down into my petaled folds, engulfing them in my wetness. I guide them into me gently, in and out, soaking my digits.
The air in the room grows thicker with sexual tension. Needing to moisten my dry throat, I sip from my flute. The bubbles tickling their way down into me. I tip my flute gently, letting just a few dribbles drip down between my breasts and over my stomach, beading right over my private, satin flesh. I gasp out as the coolness teases my warm flesh, from the moment it hits my skin, working it's way down to my most intimate of places.
My fingers begin to move a little faster inside me now. My slippery softness clings to my fingers, feeling like a fiery furnace, causing a soft whimper to escape my lips. My heart thrums faster as my need builds. I'm lost I'm my desire and flicking my fingers so quickly over my clit that I could erupt at any moment. Never did I think I'd relish in masturbating for my husband like this.
“Do you like that, baby?” I coo and moan at him. My digits move through my folds and plunge into me as my other hand strums my clit. It's all so naughty and perfectly delicious.
*****
"Do you like what you see?" she asks me. Holy shit, what a question!
I can only nod my head, breathlessly confirming what she must already know. The flick of her gaze and the upward tilt of her full lips tell me she sees the tent my erection is making in my pajamas. I'm so hard for her now that my cock strains uncomfortably in my boxers. Still, I don't dare set it free.
Masturbation has always been a very private and personal act for Linsey. She's told me of her moments of self love when I'm away, and I've desired to witness her do this for years, but this one act has always been her lone taboo. I am overjoyed now that she has finally chosen to share it with me. It is a fragile moment for us though, and I fear that brazingly stroking my cock as I watch might be more than she is ready to accept. Instead, I shift and fidget, trying to find room for my hard-on to grow.
Linsey clearly sees the affect she is having on me and her eyes sparkle with a naughty glint at my aroused discomfort. Her gaze is hungry and excited as it flicks from my face to the bulging proof of my need. Her fingers are strumming over her pussy now, curling inward and drawing her glistening dew over her clit. I can see her body begin to writhe in response to her touch, and her wet lips pull open as her breath becomes deeper. I know that sultry look. It's one I have brought out of her many times. Now, it is her own hand that fans her flames.
Growing bolder, I unbutton my shirt, exposing my chest to her. I stretch back, letting it fall away as my hand runs downward, toward the now demanding hardness of my cock. Briefly, I wonder if she is as taken by my body's obvious arousal as I am by hers. I can hardly imagine it possible. Seeing her so opened to my view fills me with a ravenous desire that I can barely contain.
Part of me wants to go to her now. The urge to take her roughly, to bend her over that chair and fuck her until she screams, is overpowering. I resist for now though, knowing well that the time for that will come soon enough. For now, I and satisfied to simply enjoy this illicit demonstration of her love. I lift my flute in a silent toast to her lasciviousness. Linsey's succulent lips turn upward in appreciation, but such sweet smiles quickly turn to the open-mouthed gasps as her fingers continue to delve through the soft flesh of her weeping sex.
I can see the muscles in her legs flexing in time with her touch now, and rivulets of her juices begin to flow. Her arousal is hot within her and I finally dare to wrap my fingers around my my straining cock. I no longer fear her mood suddenly changing at the sight of my brazen response to her display.
Linsey's eyes flash with lurid excitement and I could swear I see the subtle ripple in her throat as she swallows her rising desire. For an exquisite moment, she bites her lip and her fingers flick rapidly over her clit. Her skin is flush and shimmering with perspiration as her hips begin to roll upward toward her touch.
"Do it," she whispers. "I want to see you stroke your cock for me."
'Oh, my god,' I think, groaning with hot blooded lust as I push my bottoms down and kick them away. Linsey smiles again and reaches out with her tiny foot to caresses my calf. Her gentle touch connects us as lovers, turning our solo pleasures into a harmonious act of making love.