This is the first, but hopefully not the last, piece of smut
that begins: I got home from church and we had omelets. We read our books in
bed for a while—me with my chick lit book and her with a scary alternate
telling of the Christmas story. When we’d finished our breakfast and coffee, it
was time to get started.
Probably like a lot of long-married folks, I don’t always
get naked for Sweetie—I am super-averse to being chilly. But even though I’d
only just turned the heat on, I drew the blinds, stood in the middle of the
room, and stripped all the way down. I was cold, but a little bit of discomfort
actually made me more turned on. Her hands were cold as she moved the ropes
over me, as she stopped to play with my nipples a little. I squirmed and
laughed and she felt aggressive, just enough more aggressive for it to be hot.
A few weeks ago at ropes class with the Gentleman, the
teacher lady told us to always make sure there are knots in the “crotch rope”—“They’re
gonna hit something.” she said helpfully. As she ties the crotch rope to
the ropes around my waist, she tested the crotch rope for where the knot would
land—right on my clit. Sweetie is a rope genius. A…smell started wafting up
from me; I was so much more than ready. I looked at myself in the mirror, the
first time I’d been able to do that with ropes on. She took some pictures,
making me even more turned on. I had a rosy glow and so did she.
Cycles and circumstances had led her to be the less-taken-care-of
of the two of us for the past few weeks, so I was determined that she would
come first. I couldn’t resist climbing on, though, seeing what the crotch knot
could do for the both of us.
As you know, my sex drive has been dodgy for the past few weeks,
elusive, bound up in fear and sadness, but as I placed that knot between us, I
felt slutty doors open in my heart and brazen sunlight shine in. It wasn’t just
our relationship that was shining, but my relationship to everything. I was
ready to open up again.
I played roughly with her breasts, the way I love feeling
guys do. She has very pretty boobs, pale and almost as big as mine, but with
little delicate-looking nipples. They only look delicate, though, she likes
them pulled and pinched and bit and I let the aggression out on them, enough to
bruise a little.
I hung my breast down into her mouth and she sucked, playing
with the other one. All the while I was moving on top of her, any more and she
wouldn’t’ve been the first to come. I backed up and played with her a little,
she felt so good, a few weeks away is way too long. I was so glad to be back
there, slick, warm, and in love. I pushed my fingers inside her and she moaned.
I grit my teeth, bore down, and fucked her as hard as I could, kissed her, felt
like we were the sex goddesses of my dreams. She felt so good, her skin glowed
pink with happiness, she looked (like she always does) like an angel.
I got a little cramp in my leg and climbed down, lay by her
side and finished her off. Then it was my turn. I didn’t want it to be over too
soon, so I asked her to concentrate on my nipples, she pinched them gently in
rhythm, rubbed, played, and kissed them. As she played up top, she ran her arm
under the top of the crotch rope so that it pulled hard into my butt cracks and
the knot worked my clit. I could feel everything at once. I came, loud and
jubilant.
I wanted to just turn over and spoon, but I had to get up
for her to take the ropes off. As we snuggled down into spooning, I didn’t
drift off the way I usually do. I felt energized, inspired.
A little while later, we got up and drove to the nature
center for a walk. It was a perfect spring day that smelled like wisteria.
There was an art installation in the woods—someone had knitted cozies for the trees.
We sat on a sunny bench and birdwatched. There weren’t too many, but we did see
a tufted titmouse. We started to feel like we just might make it.
***Writing this down in my notebook this morning made me so
turned on that I had to take some, as we call it in our house, “personal time”
before I went to my Environmental Conservation final. Lots of fantasies I’d
been afraid to look at, about her and others, came rushing back and I just had
the best time. I felt back to being an adorable unicorn again. I’d been worried
that my project wasn’t getting anywhere, but this feels like a breakthrough.
***
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