My Whole Sex Life

Is it possible to have too much sex?

My brain and my sex drive say no way, but my body would like to object. I’ve been trying to strike a balance between the two, finding new and more creative ways to gratify my desire for sex, while giving my more delicate bits a rest. I’m a cheerful mess.

The muscles in my thighs and shoulders are sore – the result of some aerobic fucking. My clitoris is hot and throbbing. Masturbation and vibrator use has quite worn it out. Despite my attempts to stop pushing the button, sometimes the need has simply overcome my good intentions. Experiencing a little bit of a stinging sensation last night convinced me to stick with penetration. All the area of my mons is bruised from too much pressure and impact. There is a dull ache in my lower abdomen, presumably from repeated thrusting deep inside my cunt. My breasts feel overly full, nipples relaying an ecstatic thrill with every random graze of touch.

It actually makes me happy to be aware of my body this way. Sometimes my lust builds on itself, with my heightened awareness of my physical responses turning me on even more. For example, driving a distance home after rough sex and being doubly aroused by the seam of my jeans rubbing across my clit reminds me that I am a highly sexual being who needs release. It’s a cycle that winds me up to great peaks of pleasure.

Maintaining a constant (even low grade) level of arousal can be a lot of fun. Harold and I spent about 24 hours before our last date engaging in fantasy, making out, and a tiny bit of heavy petting. We did our best to inflame passion in each other. He offered to go down on me in a parking lot, but I wasn’t that far gone. I prefer my exhibitionism to be consensual for everyone.

The morning of our date I took a long luxurious bath, reading erotica and chatting with Harold over IM. For the first time in ages I got myself off with my fingers. Then I carefully chose my clothing to fit my mood and the fantasy we had been discussing. Everything helped to set the stage for our time together.

When we made it down to the cabin, I had some idea of taking photos, but we were both too excited. My cunt was soaking wet. I was breathless with anticipation. One kiss led to a big open mouth, tongue thrusting make out session. With every step we took, we fell further down the rabbit hole. Like dominos, each action inevitably brought us to the next, elevating our desire to a firery fierceness. We wrung every bit of pleasure out of that afternoon.

Letting the intensity die down a bit after that, I was able to listen to my body complain about being used so hard. I paid attention. I put antibiotic ointment on my clit because it stung like a fingernail scratch. I took cranberry supplements to stave off any chance of bladder infection from so much oral sex. I used a boric acid capsule in my cunt to avoid a yeast infection from penetration, even though Harold used gloves for digital manipulation. I take care of myself.

Our connection didn’t totally die. When we climbed into bed and fell into each other’s arms I felt the lust surge back up again. I wanted this man, wanted to hold him inside me, wanted to thrust into his soul. He was hard almost immediately and I was ready to go without any foreplay. We fucked for a second time that day, lush and lusting. When we were done I used the vibrator to come again.

I’m still going through my day feeling mildly aroused. Despite various pangs, I masturbated in the shower this morning. I am walking a knife’s edge between maintaining physical comfort and fulfilling physical desire. If my mind or emotions ever tell me to stop, I will. Sometimes this much intensity makes me feel uncomfortable. Occasionally, frustration over lack of fulfillment makes me break down.

Is this sex addiction? I don’t think such a thing exists. Can you be addicted to love? Or air? Everyone needs sex. It’s true that some people are prone to obsessive behavior around sex. People tend to make the same mistakes over and over, hoping for a better outcome, but addiction? My behavior during these times doesn’t hurt anyone and isn’t out of control. It’s more like living in a favorite erotic novel.

Too much sex? No, not yet enough for me.

He says that he doesn’t like to have sex in the morning. He can’t get hard, he says, when his blood sugar is low, let alone muster the energy to come. The morning is my favorite time. I am relaxed, languid with warmth and sleep. Desire flows easily in my body; I feel safe and cherished. He wants to get things done while he is fresh. I want to twine my arms and legs around him, kiss him slowly, sensuously. I fantasize about getting sweaty under the sheets while the morning light shines on us.

This morning he came to me after he had been working for a couple hours, just as the light gathered outside my windows. He snuggled in beside me, faces close enough to draw each other’s breath. I burrowed into him, sleepily enjoying his nearness. We talked, about everything and nothing, simply sharing space, until my hand found his cock.

It wasn’t intentional, me feeling him up. My hands seem to wander his body independent of thought, but we both noticed that I was caressing his penis and balls through his jeans. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped for better access. I discovered that I could get just the head of his cock in my mouth. This seemed to drive him crazy. He was quick to pull down his pants and his boxers after that.

I felt like there was a snake inside me, coiled and deceptively still, waiting to strike. Or the warm glow of a bed of coals awaiting a breath of air to flower into full flame. His fingers slowly circling my clitoris and pinching my nipples sent heat surging through me. I took the whole of his erect cock into my mouth, flicking the tip with my tongue every time I drew back. The liquid tingle in my cunt increased and I had to lay back.

Looking in his eyes, I covered my palm with lube and stroked him while he teased me. I squirmed and groaned, wanting to be penetrated. His cock was so hard that the skin had no give as a slid up and down it’s length with my hand. I could tell that he was getting close to orgasm when he jumped up to take his pants the rest of the way off.

I rolled onto my stomach, lifting my ass up, wanting so badly to be fucked like that. He obliged, letting me help guide him into my cunt. His motions were gentle at first as we found the angle that worked best and settled into a good rhythm. Soon he was pounding into me, my face pressed into the bed. My back ached from being arched in that awkward position, but I didn’t care because it felt so perfect. His cock hit just the right spot inside me.

Our building passion brought us right up to the edge where we hovered for a moment, gasping and moaning, before exploding into a shared orgasm. I lost all sense of self in that moment, a beautiful perfect moment of total union, my body clasped underneath his. Then we were laughing and kissing.

Being a sensitive and caring partner, he immediately found the vibrator and slid his fingers into me. You can’t come too many times, right?  This is my default, no-fail, way to orgasm. If I’ve come a few times already, I’m likely to squirt with him caressing my g-spot. We make love in a lot of different ways, but this just always feels amazing, especially when he adds in nipple stimulation. I think I came in about 60 seconds.

I love morning sex.

Maybe he can have sex in the morning, he says, maybe he can come. (Maybe it’s just my influence.)

Married sex gets a bad rap. It’s common knowledge that the ecstatic new relationship energy fades over time, unresolved resentments build up, excitement over sharing new sexual fantasies fades. Married people eventually lead dull boring sex lives, right? No, it doesn’t have to be that way. Long term committed couples can have sex that is progressively more intimate and more exciting.

The catch is that it takes some work. It means owning your emotional baggage and being willing to help your partner through their stuff too. It becomes necessary to completely resolve every disagreement to the point of loving him or her to bits rather than shoving your feelings into the dark recesses of the collective basement of the relationship. At least that’s how it is for Harold and me.

We’ve been having sex with each other for over five years and it just keeps getting better. We fight a fair amount, but it’s mostly productive – meaning that we are able to reach a mutual resolution without any lingering resentments. We are also under a huge amount of stress, and yet our connection to each other continues to grow stronger. I can always tell the health of our relationship by the kind of sex that we have together.

Our last date is a good example. I had a crappy morning, but was in a decent place, but Harold was not. He was deeply sad, barely functional. I did my best to hold and comfort him. We talked a lot. Slowly we began to make love from that deep place Harold was in. We did our standard things, the sexual practices that we know we like and will be effective, without taking any risks or pushing any boundaries. Comfort sex. We know each other better than we know ourselves in these ways and while not exciting, it is nice and good to come together and get off. I am very thankful for this kind of sex, but I want a relationship where we sometimes go further.

Afterward, I think we both felt somewhat better and closer to each other. It gave me a chance to meditate and work through some deep issues that have been plaguing me. Harold was happy to hold the space for me and his presence gave me the safety I needed. My work immediately lightened the mood for us both. We were able to return to the family feeling renewed and more empowered.

We got to spend time with the children and our other partners, making dinner and relaxing, before settling into bed with a movie. Our favorite movies are foreign sex films and this was no exception. We found Chroniques sexuelles d’une famille d’aujourd’hui (Sexual Chronicles of a French Family) on Netflix. I think it’s maybe the best movie about sex I’ve ever seen. It shows how three generations of the same family handle their sexuality. The relationships are realistic and the characters are very sympathetic. The sex is explicit without showing much in the way of genitals, but it doesn’t pull any punches, this is very real. We thought that it was interesting, sweet, sexy, and inspiring.

We were so inspired, we started to make love again. We don’t often have sex more than once a day, but we were full of lust. Sexy movies can do that. I could feel the warmth flow from my cunt, up my chest, and spread. When I kissed Harold I felt like golden light was passing between us through our open mouths. My skin was alive to his touch. We were completely attuned to the energy we grew between us. Suddenly we were easily meeting sexual needs that we have spent months discussing but haven’t yet implemented in our sex life. It was fucking HOT.

This amazingness is made possible by the nature of our relationship. Because we have kept clear of resentments and had ongoing conversations about the things we want, we could just use the energy of a great sexy movie to launch into mind-blowing sex. It takes some practice to be able to follow the energy of the moment to fulfilling each other’s desires. I like to control every situation, but learning how to live in the moment has been incredibly rewarding.

Maybe someday we will lose this feeling of excitement, this thrill when we look at each other, this rush of lust when we are in each other’s arms. Maybe we will get to a point where we have only efficient, comforting sex with each other, but I doubt it. We value the sex and connection that we have together too much to screw it up. For us, this is what it means to be profoundly in love.

Eroticism is that emotion laden pause right after an intense kiss. You know, that moment when you pull back a few inches and savor the sexual tension stretching between you, lust coursing through every line of your bodies, energy humming in the air. It’s my very favorite moment. I adore experiencing it myself and it’s the hottest thing I can imagine watching.

I love watching two men kiss, seeing them be vulnerable with each other. It’s so sexy and intimate. This photo makes me so happy because it’s two guys I care about just parting after a deep kiss. (I’ll be in my bunk)

I slide out from under the warm blankets, bare flesh shocked to wakefulness by the crisp chill in the room. The cold floor against my feet is especially bracing. I hurry to the bathroom. Outside my window, the leaves are starting to turn. Flashes of yellow and red are now mixed with green.

I catch my face in the mirror. The seasons are turning for me as as well, little lines forming around the corners of my eyes. My breasts and belly are not as firm as they once were, and yet I am more comfortable in my body than I was in the Spring of my life. Autumn seems to be full of expectation and joy for things to come.

Thinking of things to come, I rush back to bed. I burrow back under the covers, laughing and breathless. He rolls over and opens his arms to welcome me. My skin quickly warms against his. I contort, trying to tuck my toes under his scrotum. It becomes a giggling wrestling match.

I get pinned under him, warm and tingly. I want nothing more than his kiss and he is happy to oblige. I feel so safe and loved. Our kisses are long, slow, and deep. We kiss until I can’t feel the difference between him and me. We kiss until I am wet with desire.

His kisses travel under the blanket, hot tongue circling each nipple. I am gasping, full of want. I love his attention on my nipples but I am impatient. I urge him lower. I peek under the sheets as he settles his face over my cunt. He grins at me and sticks out his tongue. He pushes my knees apart and my vulva opens for him. Covering my entire cunt with little licks, he makes sure that I am wet everywhere before settling on my clit.

I am groaning and writhing as he sweats under the blankets. He sucks at my clit and flicks with the tip of his tongue. It is an exquisite sensation, almost too intense to handle. I start to bounce a bit and tighten the muscles in my thighs. I want to be fucked. Surely he is suffocating down there, but he just keeps going.

He presses his fingers against my opening. I press back. Without stopping his tongue movements at all, he slides first one finger, then two into my cunt. It feels divine. When he thrusts deep inside and presses his fingers up I think I’m going to pass out from sheer pleasure. My eyes roll and flutter. I pass from want to need. I NEED to be fucked.

Between his fingers and his tongue I am pinned. I feel my orgasm start to build deep inside. His motions are like ocean waves that suck me back and cast me forth again. But the tide is coming in. Oh yes. Yes, yes, yesss. I am screaming with each pulse of my incredible orgasm. He keeps coming for a long while.

Suddenly, I need his cock more than I’ve ever needed anything. I reach under the covers, pulling him to me, kissing his face messy with my juices, feeling for his penis. I find him already hard. I want to put him in my mouth, but I also just want to fuck. After pumping a few times with my hand, penetrative sex wins. I am begging him to fuck me. Please, please put your cock in me!

We are sweat soaked and sticky and radiating love for each other. He pauses, poised above me, ready to full me with his cock, and looks into my eyes. I know he is making sure that I really want this. He is asking me to see him, to share his love. I nod and take him in. We look deep into each other’s eyes as we become one. Then the sensation overtakes us and we cling to each other.

We are twisted in the sheets, gasping and striving. I love him over me. The movement of the muscles along his body feel strong and alive. I adore being held safe in his arms as he glides toward his own orgasm, taking me with him. I can tell that he’s close because his breathing changes. My focus shifts to my own orgasm. We build together, feeding off of each other’s energy. I tip over the edge and take him with me. We are coming, and coming, and coming together.

We collapse, throwing back the too hot blankets. The cool autumn air cools our skin and evaporates our sweat. I leave a trail of tiny kisses on his arm. We can hear the children start to stir downstairs. Our thoughts are already sliding to coffee, breakfast, reading, yard work, showers, and a hundred Sunday details. But for right now, we have this perfect moment, this perfect Autumn Sunday moment.

I’m just waking up, sitting in bed with coffee in hand, but I haven’t had a sip yet. He comes out of the office and stands at the foot of the bed, talking to me. I’m not really hearing what he’s saying. I’m watching his body language and wishing that he had woken me up with sex this morning. It’s not that I’m feeling sexy, really. I just want him close to me.

I tell him I want him and like a shot, he slips off his shoes and slides into bed with me. We fit together perfectly. I press tight against him and our mouths meet. It’s an explosion of sweetness in my heart. Our lips are soft together. A flurry of little kisses draw us closer. My hand follows the broad expanse of his chest. His tongue parts my lips and I open for him.

It feels incredible to kiss like this. I’m so present in the moment… lips pressed… mouth inviting… tongues exploring… breath shared… this is heaven. His fingers are cool against my skin as he rests his hand against my throat, gripping slightly. My heart races and my cunt spasms. I adore the feel of his hand on my neck. It turns me on, but I’m intent on making out.

I thrust my tongue deep into his mouth. He starts to moan a bit and his fingers follow my spine to the small of my back. He pulls me tight against his side while pressing his lips tighter to mine. His hand happens to be applying pressure to the bruises on my back that I acquired yesterday when we fucked on the floor of the office. I am thinking of that and how hot that spontaneous sex was while we kiss. We’re pretty good together.

I am floating in love and bliss as I nibble on his lips. I don’t think that I am interested in anything very sexual for the moment, but his hand wanders down to my crotch. He teases me, not actually hitting anything that would be just right. At first I wonder why he’s being obtuse, and then I realize that he’s doing it on purpose to get me riled up. All of a sudden I very much want him to bring me to orgasm.

He shifts and slides down my body so his face hovers over my vulva. I spread my legs for him. I want him to kiss these lips. He lowers his face, nuzzling into my furry cunt. My breath catches and my fingers trace the edges of my mouth as I lose myself to the sensations.

His fingers slide into me. Each thrust is exquisite and his tongue is sending heat up into my belly. My body rocks in time with his motions. I can feel myself getting close to orgasm, my cunt sucking at his fingers to try and bring him deeper inside. I want to draw it out, revel in the sensations, but it feels too good. I come hard around his hand, hips bucking and rolling. His hand cups my mound, letting me push out a few final spasms of pleasure against his palm.

We’ve made a mess. His hand is soaked and I’m lying in a big wet spot. I don’t care because I feel fantastic. We kiss again. I love him so much – and not just because he makes me come. I feel a little guilty that our love making is rather one sided this morning, but he reminds me of how I feel when I go down on him. I enjoy it immensely and laugh at the idea of it being one sided. I can see that it would be the same for him.

We kiss some more, then he goes downstairs to make breakfast. I sip my coffee. I gaze out the window, remembering the feel of his lips on mine. I love making out!

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I had my whole hand inside of her body. I keep thinking that. Last night I worked my whole hand into her cunt. It was so amazing. Fisting is incredible. I can’t get over how close I feel to her, even now. She’s so beautiful. I’m so lucky. I had my whole hand inside her.

She showed up last night after the children were asleep, bearing lambic and dark chocolate. I told her that I felt unworthy of her affection, having only Folgers and cheap sulfite-free wine to offer such a goddess. She kissed my doubts away. We curled up on the bed, talking and stroking exposed bits of flesh.

I love her eyes. And her wicked smile. She has many different smiles that say a multitude of things, but I especially like the one that lets me know that she has done something very clever and deliciously bad. Usually to my benefit. Then there’s her hands, her fingers lacing in and out of mine while we talk.

We caught up on the last couple of weeks and discussed our other relationships. It’s nice to share with each other about all of the love we have in our lives. We talked about sex. Then I pin her to the bed and ask what she can’t live without in sex. I imagine the things she might detail, perhaps oral sex or orgasms or pain, but I’m surprised when she answers: connection. OMG, I’m in love. Of course connection is why I have sex. I want to know someone through sex. I’m so in love.

We’re still new to each other. We are learning each other’s bodies and preferences. I wanted to go down on her in a major way, but I was nervous. I haven’t actually had a lot of practice at cunnilingus, especially recently. I got all shy and awkward telling her what I wanted, yet warning her that I’m fairly inexperienced. She looked baffled for a moment, as though unsure how to respond before reassuring me that that she wouldn’t judge me too harshly. It made me laugh.

Determined to give it a good go, I worked my way down her body, kissing, sucking, and biting. Her cunt is gorgeous. She has 3 rings through one side of her labia. It’s just perfectly right. I nuzzled around in her pubic hair, taking in her earthy scent. I thought about what I like in oral sex and tried to do the same on her. I took my time and explored. It turned me on. As things heated up, I found myself with my whole face buried in her cunt, licking with wild abandon, following her rhythms. After she came, I kissed her, everything a juicy mess.

Then I wanted to be inside her. The vagina is such a mysterious and amazing place. She is so hot. I slipped a couple of fingers in and worked up to my whole hand with lots of lube and erotic play. I found myself glad that I had trimmed and filed my nails and worried that it hadn’t been enough. Her body writhing and contracting around my hand filled me with intense awe. I was so grateful to her for allowing me in, for sharing herself with me. I wanted to fill her and surround her and melt through her.

I thought that she should go to sleep then, but that wicked grin showed up. My turn. She explored my cunt, letting me know that she thought I was beautiful. What she thinks matters a lot to me because of my abuse history and having given birth 5 times. I am not always comfortable with my body. I was absurdly touched by her gaze and her compliments. Then she did wicked things with her mouth.

I’m not exactly sure what she did. Her mouth latched on to my clit and she rode my bucking pelvis until I came, hard and fast. My new favorite thing is her eyes looking at me while the rest of her face is obscured by my pubic hair. Have I mentioned that I’m in love? Because as soon as I’d come, she rode the waves of that orgasm straight into the next. Then I held my beautiful girl in my arms and she looked very smug. Deservedly so.

There’s a certain satisfaction to snuggling down in bed, with the smell of sex everywhere and a naked woman pressed against me. I felt at peace in the darkness for the first time in a while. This morning we woke early so she could go to work. I allowed myself the luxury of falling back to sleep, smelling her scent on the sheets. I’ve got it bad.

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I’m floating in warm water, my limbs entwined in his. Above us are tree limbs and blue sky. Nearby the river cascades past with lots of spray and froth. The rushing noise it makes is a soothing soundtrack. His fingers glide across my bare flesh, covertly ending at my nipples. My desire ratchets up a notch. I look into his eyes, knowing that he sees my reaction to his touch. We’re hardly aware of the man next to us in the hot springs, but the intensity of our connection must make him uncomfortable because he gets out.

We let the hot springs relax us. We massage the knots out of each other’s shoulders. We talk and kiss, making love in a slow, unfocused manner. I want him in a way that reaches through my cunt, through my feet, deep into the rock of the cave we are in, as though we are making love for the earth itself. In full view of everyone at the hot springs, but not making a big deal of it, I knead his balls with my foot. I progress to rubbing his cock between my toes. Then I am leaning against him, caressing his dick with one hand while I bend over in front of him. He traces the lines of my vulva, feeling how slick I am there. I know that the caretaker is right behind us. The thought of him watching us turns me on even more. He politely moves past us.

I am getting off on how much we can do to each other with people all around. They can’t really tell what we are doing. We are quiet, but totally absorbed in each other. I suck at his lips and tongue, wanting his cock. He seems to understand because he suggests that I sit on the ledge so he can lick my pussy, but it feels too blatant. We talk some more and unwind some more. I’m thinking of going off into the woods to fuck. I want to be bent over and boned hard. I want his fingers to dig into my hips and my breasts to slap against my face. But it’s really cold. Finally all the other guests get ready to leave.

I am fantasizing about how we will have sex, when another woman shows up. She’s obviously in her own world, unconcerned with us. I think that we might go to the back of the cave to fuck, but he is too hot. We move down to a cooler pool. I am at that place beyond teasing that quickly becomes totally frustrated. I am near tears with wanting. It feels like I will never again have an orgasm. I float on my stomach next to him, while he rubs my clit. It feels amazing. I don’t come, but I am greatly reassured. I love him so much.

We move to a slightly warmer pool. I tell him to keep a look out and I put my head in his lap. I squeeze his balls and suck his cock. I so enjoy the sounds that he makes and the looks on his face that I manage to see. The warm water cradles us both as he stiffens in my mouth. His fingers reach around my ass to get to my slippery cunt. The danger of someone seeing us excites me. The strange woman is still in the cave.

We go down to the lower pool. He insists on pulling my pussy over to him so he can lick it. Seeing my thatch in his face looks beautiful and I wish I had my camera, but I’m not about to stop him. The other guest gets out for a moment then goes back up. We stop for that, but then I’m serious about fucking.

We come together in the water. Somehow I end up on top. The moment that he enters me is sheer bliss. I have been aching for this. I tighten all of my vaginal muscles to let him know I care. We move back and forth in the water, where movement is muted. The woman coughs loudly several times as though to tell us that she can see us, but I don’t care. It’s not obvious that we are having intercourse anyway. We are holding each other’s faces as we revel in the sensation and connection. I am in love, love, love.

And then the lubrication gives out. It still feels fantastic, but I can tell that it’s starting to chafe. It’s not worth going on. Fucking in the water is often problematic. We stop moving (mostly), but he stays inside me. It’s glorious. It feels like the center of everything.

Sadly, we need to go. I briefly consider the cabana, but we need to make our way back to civilization. Perhaps we can fuck in the car. Regardless, I am feeling relaxed and recharged. I look forward to the orgasms that are sure to come.

Many families get together over the holidays and snap a few photos. Our family is no exception, but we can boast that our family includes porn stars! Harold and I teamed up to take some photographs of the incomparable and totally adorably in love, Ned and Maggie Mayhem of meetthemayhems.com while they were here visiting.

It was fun to watch them together during the very active photo shoot. Ned and Maggie are both athletic and playful. There was wrestling and Ned doing pushups bearing Maggie’s weight. Their sense of humor permeates their interactions, but mostly what I see is love. There is nothing as sexy as people in love.

As though my libido were a light switch, my body was toggled on. I spent days in heat, every glance loaded with lust, every brush of flesh or fabric against my skin a direct line to my cunt, and always ready to fuck. I have some restraint. Normal life carries on. Family obligations must be met. Work needs doing. The trick is to bank the heat without letting it consume everything. Then, when the time is right, let it all flare up.

It’s not an easy thing for me, letting go. It doesn’t feel safe to be wildly sexual. What if I lose control and make terrible choices? I’m already a sexual person, but letting the heat of my lust make my choices is so taboo. I want the freedom of wanton desire, if I can do it safely. What if I just let go…

It’s morning. I stumble into my office wearing only a tank top and panties. Harold stands up to hug me. The hug becomes a passionate kiss. My hands caress his cock through his jeans. He gets hard. We continue to kiss as his hands roam from my breasts to my pussy. He rubs my clit and slides a finger or two inside me. I come, but it’s not enough. I bend over his desk chair and he frees his cock from the jeans zipper. We fuck, him pounding into me. We stop after a few minutes. I don’t want him to orgasm yet.

I shower, letting the water flow over me. I soap up, feeling the slipperiness across my arms, breasts, belly, and legs. When I am all clean, I switch the spray to the hardest setting and direct it to my nipples. That’s good, but I need more. I move the water to my pubic hair. The jet hits my clit and I jump. Within minutes, I’ve come again.

I’m getting dressed and I ask Harold whether I should wear pants or a skirt. I point out that if I wear a skirt, he could have easy access to my cunt. He says that if I wear a skirt, it better be short and I’d better not wear underwear. I put on the skirt, but I wear underwear too. We go about our day, teasing each other and enjoying the sensual pleasures. We kiss often. He makes another comment about my panties. I take them off on the spot and shove them in his pocket.

Harold and I cook. Although we have different tasks, we manage to intersect frequently. His hands dart under my skirt. I’m so turned on. Everything I do feels sexy. I feel loved and owned. It’s so slutty to wear this skirt without underwear. I feel dirty in the best possible way. It’s all good. I love Harold’s hands all over me.

We’re in bed. I know Harold is tired. I don’t want to bother him, but I am full of longing. I say something to him and he is instantly at my side. We are attracted like two magnets. We click together. He is all over me. His hands cover my neck and I arch my chest into him. I am so his. I love his nails down my back, fingertips on my collarbone, pressing my body into the bed. It’s not about orgasms, it’s all about sensation and desire. I’ve never wanted him so much. We make love in the darkness. Eventually, we fuck and we come.

The next day is much the same. We have hours together, in which we repeatedly come up to the edge and retreat again. He reads erotica to me as I lie on his chest, naked and turned on. The words come alive. He spanks me, makes me beg for each firm strike. We kiss long and slow. I get lost in that kiss. Harold rigs a harness to hold a dildo inside me, then puts a finger in my asshole and a vibrator against my clit until the orgasm explodes out of me. I return the favor, making him come with two fingers on his prostate. We spend the day pleasuring each other.

The next day I am less on fire. We make love in a sweet and lazy way in the shower. The intensity is gone. In it’s place is love and a sense of well being. I still feel sexy, but the heat is spent. It’s all warm and cozy, not flaming. We’ve ridden out the conflagration. I have what I’ve wanted. I’m learning to let go and let my lust drive. There’s a lot of joy in being in heat!