mbarlow
09-17-2008, 09:24 AM
Six Orgasms and Free HBO
After The Sopranos was officially over, I cancelled HBO, and traded it for Showtime. I was interested in that Californication show, Weeds, and The L-word. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that I had free HBO for some reason. I did not know why, but I did not ask any questions.
Two Fridays ago, David called to tell me that he would be home from Tampa later than usual.
I interpreted this to mean he was gonna fuck that ditch pig Missy.
After work, I went home to let the dogs out, changed clothes and went to happy hour with Nick. We talked some about David and my fears as they relate to his extended stay in Tampa this day. Nick assured me that it was a business thing, and that I had nothing to worry about in the area of David’s devotion to our marriage.
See, here’s the thing…
I am in a position of compromise with a hot guy. I am consuming alcohol, eating anorexic chicken wings and mediocre potato skins while I whine to him about my husband. If the tables were turned, Nick would be the guy I was having an affair with, and he knows this. He knows I have a thing for him, and I know he is not totally opposed to the idea of fucking me. Yet, here he is with the perfect opportunity to throw David under the bus, and take me home and have some gratuitous sex. Somehow, Nick was able to resist the inherent male urge to fuck as many women as possible and damn the consequences. Not that I am this beautiful temptress capable of testing the loyalties of men who have been friends longer than I have known either of them…but still, I turn a few heads once in a while.
Oh, and that reminds me. I have noticed since the unveiling of the new site, I have quite a few new readers to this column. On the old site, my picture used to accompany my column each week. Presumably, many of my newer readers have not actually seen a picture of me, and may have no idea what I actually look like. Now is prolly a good time to come clean and enlighten the newbies. I am a stunningly beautiful woman with nearly perfect natural breasts; breasts which are perpetually impervious to gravity and age. My biting wit and expansive vocabulary are exceeded in magnificence only by my supermodel-like legs, keen fashion sense, and unrivaled humility. I am financially set for life and work only to keep my finger on the pulse of the little people, so as to appeal to them with my Pulitzer-like offering each week. I could have married any number of doctors or lawyers; but instead I chose David because I enjoy a challenge.
Okay, so now we are clear on who is writing this thing every week.
Nick and I enjoyed each other’s company, the highly cultured clientele, rail drinks, and less than wedding reception quality food for a couple of hours, and then we left.
Nick followed me home and joined me inside to wait for David. He played Wii for a while (I swear that thing is like crack rock to men), and I went upstairs to take a warm bath. As I lay in a tub of warm scented water, I thought about the contrasts between Nick and myself as they concern David. Here I am cleansing myself, shaving my legs and vagine, and okay…touching myself inappropriately, preparing for my husband to return home after what amounts to three days since I have seen him. I am anticipating mutually satisfying sex, and some quality time together. Nick is downstairs brushing up on his imaginary bowling and golf skills in hopes of besting David in a ritualistic male activity; which is nothing more than a “who has the biggest penis” contest. Broken down to literal dimensions and basic measurements, I would love to judge (and perhaps reward the winner of) such a contest…but watching Heckle and Jeckle play Wii of any kind, makes me wanna read a book. I planted my feet on the bottom of the tub, and raised myself up a bit to allow for easier access my girl stuff, as I continued to groom. This is when I noticed that my belly button seems to be getting bigger. It sure holds a lot of water, anyway. I am not sure what that means.
My cell phone rang…David was calling to let me know that he was local, and asked if I wanted him to bring home take-out. I told him that I had already eaten, and that Nick was downstairs.
David told me to get rid of Nick because he wanted to have sex…lots of it. Initially, I was excited by this revelation, but then immediately realized that unless David had somehow snagged some Viagra, a “lot” of sex was unlikely…unless Nick remained handy.
I got out of the tub, dried myself, and then wrapped the towel around me. I walked halfway down the stairs, got Nick’s attention, “I need you to walk the dogs real quick, and then get lost, David is almost home and he would rather fuck me than play Wii with you” I boasted.
“Okay, fine” Nick replied, as if I just offered him coffee.
I went back upstairs, and applied makeup and perfume.
When David got home, so began a phenomenon, the likes of which I have experienced all too seldom.
Over the next six days, David and I had sex seven times. I had an orgasm every time except one, and that was only because it was an appreciative blowjob, before he left to go to Tampa the following Wednesday morning.
David arrived and quickly showered after saying goodbye to Nick. I was waiting naked on the bed reading, and he approached me, immediately planting his head between my freshly shaven legs, and began to perform cunnilingus like a lesbian who had just run out of D-cell batteries. David has two modes when he is down there. Either he is throwing me a quickie to get me wet, or he is “in it to win it” and make me cum. I came intensely, breaking a nail along the way. I fellated him until he was hard and then climbed atop him for another round. I orgasmed after about twenty minutes and then rolled off him. He turned me over, and fucked me from behind, until I felt his warm semen fill me.
Afterwards, we ate ice cream from the box, and talked about our respective week.
Just when I thought it was over, David started up again, and took advantage of all available orifices, before coming all over my stomach…and then we went to sleep.
We had sex the next night after enjoying a Nick-free dinner and drinks together.
We had sex on Sunday morning before he and Nick played golf (and while Nick was waiting downstairs).
We had sex on Monday night after work, and before he watched football with Nick.
We had sex on Tuesday morning before he left for work, and as I mentioned before, I blew him before he left for Tampa on Wednesday morning.
Perhaps, David is finally realizing what an asset I am to this marriage. I mean being married to a sexually versed woman, who is usually receptive to most any kind of sex, but not capitalizing on said skills and opportunities, is like owning a Porsche, and only driving to church on Sunday…slowly.
Much like I am not sure why I had the free HBO thing a couple of weeks ago, I don’t know what inspired David these five days, but I am not one to look a gift orgasm or six, in the mouth. I suspect Missy’s circus tits might have played a role in his increased level of friskiness, but who am I to judge?
I get wet when I am around Nick, and David is the benefactor of that innocent arousal.
In spite of all that, I got my period the following Thursday. David fucked my ass again on Friday night, and we managed some more conventional sex this morning.
As I write this on Sunday evening, I realize that both of us have busy lives; which take away from our time together, and prolly diminishes our sex life. I obsess about getting pregnant, and I am sure he gets tired of hearing me whine about that. Neither of us dresses to impress when we are alone together, and far too few of our sessions of lovemaking begin with passionate kissing. We are both guilty of sex games which include others, and that takes the attention and focus off each of us.
As much as I enjoy fantasizing about fucking Nick, or being with another girl occasionally, I would not trade what I have with David for either.
And, as much as David is intrigued by a set of circus tits with a creepy accent, he will never take that over the reality of my face completely impaled on his penis as he cums down my throat.
Dig me, bitches.
After The Sopranos was officially over, I cancelled HBO, and traded it for Showtime. I was interested in that Californication show, Weeds, and The L-word. A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that I had free HBO for some reason. I did not know why, but I did not ask any questions.
Two Fridays ago, David called to tell me that he would be home from Tampa later than usual.
I interpreted this to mean he was gonna fuck that ditch pig Missy.
After work, I went home to let the dogs out, changed clothes and went to happy hour with Nick. We talked some about David and my fears as they relate to his extended stay in Tampa this day. Nick assured me that it was a business thing, and that I had nothing to worry about in the area of David’s devotion to our marriage.
See, here’s the thing…
I am in a position of compromise with a hot guy. I am consuming alcohol, eating anorexic chicken wings and mediocre potato skins while I whine to him about my husband. If the tables were turned, Nick would be the guy I was having an affair with, and he knows this. He knows I have a thing for him, and I know he is not totally opposed to the idea of fucking me. Yet, here he is with the perfect opportunity to throw David under the bus, and take me home and have some gratuitous sex. Somehow, Nick was able to resist the inherent male urge to fuck as many women as possible and damn the consequences. Not that I am this beautiful temptress capable of testing the loyalties of men who have been friends longer than I have known either of them…but still, I turn a few heads once in a while.
Oh, and that reminds me. I have noticed since the unveiling of the new site, I have quite a few new readers to this column. On the old site, my picture used to accompany my column each week. Presumably, many of my newer readers have not actually seen a picture of me, and may have no idea what I actually look like. Now is prolly a good time to come clean and enlighten the newbies. I am a stunningly beautiful woman with nearly perfect natural breasts; breasts which are perpetually impervious to gravity and age. My biting wit and expansive vocabulary are exceeded in magnificence only by my supermodel-like legs, keen fashion sense, and unrivaled humility. I am financially set for life and work only to keep my finger on the pulse of the little people, so as to appeal to them with my Pulitzer-like offering each week. I could have married any number of doctors or lawyers; but instead I chose David because I enjoy a challenge.
Okay, so now we are clear on who is writing this thing every week.
Nick and I enjoyed each other’s company, the highly cultured clientele, rail drinks, and less than wedding reception quality food for a couple of hours, and then we left.
Nick followed me home and joined me inside to wait for David. He played Wii for a while (I swear that thing is like crack rock to men), and I went upstairs to take a warm bath. As I lay in a tub of warm scented water, I thought about the contrasts between Nick and myself as they concern David. Here I am cleansing myself, shaving my legs and vagine, and okay…touching myself inappropriately, preparing for my husband to return home after what amounts to three days since I have seen him. I am anticipating mutually satisfying sex, and some quality time together. Nick is downstairs brushing up on his imaginary bowling and golf skills in hopes of besting David in a ritualistic male activity; which is nothing more than a “who has the biggest penis” contest. Broken down to literal dimensions and basic measurements, I would love to judge (and perhaps reward the winner of) such a contest…but watching Heckle and Jeckle play Wii of any kind, makes me wanna read a book. I planted my feet on the bottom of the tub, and raised myself up a bit to allow for easier access my girl stuff, as I continued to groom. This is when I noticed that my belly button seems to be getting bigger. It sure holds a lot of water, anyway. I am not sure what that means.
My cell phone rang…David was calling to let me know that he was local, and asked if I wanted him to bring home take-out. I told him that I had already eaten, and that Nick was downstairs.
David told me to get rid of Nick because he wanted to have sex…lots of it. Initially, I was excited by this revelation, but then immediately realized that unless David had somehow snagged some Viagra, a “lot” of sex was unlikely…unless Nick remained handy.
I got out of the tub, dried myself, and then wrapped the towel around me. I walked halfway down the stairs, got Nick’s attention, “I need you to walk the dogs real quick, and then get lost, David is almost home and he would rather fuck me than play Wii with you” I boasted.
“Okay, fine” Nick replied, as if I just offered him coffee.
I went back upstairs, and applied makeup and perfume.
When David got home, so began a phenomenon, the likes of which I have experienced all too seldom.
Over the next six days, David and I had sex seven times. I had an orgasm every time except one, and that was only because it was an appreciative blowjob, before he left to go to Tampa the following Wednesday morning.
David arrived and quickly showered after saying goodbye to Nick. I was waiting naked on the bed reading, and he approached me, immediately planting his head between my freshly shaven legs, and began to perform cunnilingus like a lesbian who had just run out of D-cell batteries. David has two modes when he is down there. Either he is throwing me a quickie to get me wet, or he is “in it to win it” and make me cum. I came intensely, breaking a nail along the way. I fellated him until he was hard and then climbed atop him for another round. I orgasmed after about twenty minutes and then rolled off him. He turned me over, and fucked me from behind, until I felt his warm semen fill me.
Afterwards, we ate ice cream from the box, and talked about our respective week.
Just when I thought it was over, David started up again, and took advantage of all available orifices, before coming all over my stomach…and then we went to sleep.
We had sex the next night after enjoying a Nick-free dinner and drinks together.
We had sex on Sunday morning before he and Nick played golf (and while Nick was waiting downstairs).
We had sex on Monday night after work, and before he watched football with Nick.
We had sex on Tuesday morning before he left for work, and as I mentioned before, I blew him before he left for Tampa on Wednesday morning.
Perhaps, David is finally realizing what an asset I am to this marriage. I mean being married to a sexually versed woman, who is usually receptive to most any kind of sex, but not capitalizing on said skills and opportunities, is like owning a Porsche, and only driving to church on Sunday…slowly.
Much like I am not sure why I had the free HBO thing a couple of weeks ago, I don’t know what inspired David these five days, but I am not one to look a gift orgasm or six, in the mouth. I suspect Missy’s circus tits might have played a role in his increased level of friskiness, but who am I to judge?
I get wet when I am around Nick, and David is the benefactor of that innocent arousal.
In spite of all that, I got my period the following Thursday. David fucked my ass again on Friday night, and we managed some more conventional sex this morning.
As I write this on Sunday evening, I realize that both of us have busy lives; which take away from our time together, and prolly diminishes our sex life. I obsess about getting pregnant, and I am sure he gets tired of hearing me whine about that. Neither of us dresses to impress when we are alone together, and far too few of our sessions of lovemaking begin with passionate kissing. We are both guilty of sex games which include others, and that takes the attention and focus off each of us.
As much as I enjoy fantasizing about fucking Nick, or being with another girl occasionally, I would not trade what I have with David for either.
And, as much as David is intrigued by a set of circus tits with a creepy accent, he will never take that over the reality of my face completely impaled on his penis as he cums down my throat.
Dig me, bitches.