For roughly the last six hours today, while struggling through work, I have found myself craving the taste of Mrs. AP under my tongue. I love trailing my lips across her skin, exploring her lips and her neck, meandering down to her luscious breasts and erect nipples, The feeling of her nipples hardening, puckering, rising underneath my tongue and against my lips is one of the divine pleasures of being able to explore the fantastic curves of my wife’s body. Right now, though, in particular, I yearn for something very specific.
I long for running my tongue and trailing my lips down from the soft, pouty lips of Mrs. AP, caressing down her delectable neck, and into the glorious cleft of her cleavage. Downward still, strolling my tongue across the beauty of her stomach and teasing over the rise and fall of her sensuous mons pubis before spiraling slowly inward and down until my lips and tongue nestle into the perfect placement between her long, lean legs.
Oh, but to dip my tongue between her lips and gently coax them wide. Her heat, her scent, dancing across my taste buds to encourage deeper, more forceful explorations. Flattening my tongue, pressing, entering, to be greeted by the sweet taste of my beloved’s arousal. Sweet!, but not in a honey way, or even vanilla and strawberry, like most people like to use for descriptors of sexual juices. She’s more primal and raw, like what would happen if the forest and panthers and hibiscus and orchid and pomegranate and the nectar from lilies could all be blended together and then coaxed forth from within her. This! This is for what I long, and crave, and cannot shake from my mind for hours upon end today!
Oh, but I shall be home soon, and then, for all that is good and naked and wonderful in this world, will I close and lock my door, and strip my gorgeous wife bare, and explore her every twitch and tremble with my tongue until her sweet, subtle nectar becomes a flood upon my tongue and across my cheeks, and she gasps my name and grips the sheets and loses herself into the bliss of erotic release, and then! Oh, but then I will still be thirsty, and will have to drink of her some more until her crescendo repeats, again and again, until she can bear no more and must both push me away and pull me upward so that more than my tongue will slide between that velvety lips.
Soon. Soon. For my daydreams are vivid, and my need is pressing, and the memory of the taste of my wife is … sweet.
Stay SINful, friends.
Today is 12 December, 2012. Depending on regional parlance, this date may be written (in part) 12-12-12 or 12/12/12.
12+12+12 is 36
The square root of 36 is 6.
6 + 3 is 9.
It’s 69 day!
Get on that, everybody.
Stay SINful, friends.
I suppose one could say it started like any typical Monday morning. The kids were all off to school, leaving the house empty of human beings except for Mrs. AP and me. She was in bed naked. I was soon naked and in bed with her. What happened over the next 2 hours was pure debauchery at it’s finest.
Mrs. AP pounced me as soon as I walked into the bedroom. I barely had the words “Hello, My Love,” out of my mouth before hers was against mine, soft lips pressing insistently as her tongue dove for my my own. We grabbed each other — more of an assault disguised as a hug — and reveled in each other for a few minutes before she broke the kiss. Breathlessly she whispered “I had best dirty dreams and now I need you.” I was exhausted and nearly ready to pass out, my lower back was in complete agony, but those words stirred my crotch and made me change my mind about sleeping just yet.
We rushed the kids off to school and Mrs. AP locked the door behind her on her way back into the bedroom. In a flash her shirt and thong were on the floor. I gazed up at her from the bed in adoration as her hips swayed ever so slightly, her luscious breasts swaying seductively. I was transfixed as she leaned over and began deliberately stripping my clothes off of me. With some help from me I was soon as naked as her, my cock rising to salute her. As she slid up me to straddle my hips and lean forward to kiss me she teased her nipples against my hips, stomach, and chest. Oh what a tantalizing sensation that is, to feel just the tips brushing against me.
She settled against my cock, sliding her lips along my length, letting me feel her heat and wetness; her dreams had been good indeed! She was dripping already! She shifted slightly and with a rock of her hips grabbed the head of my cock and slowly slid herself down the length of me until her lips were resting against my balls. Gods, she was tight and nearly burning hot and had never felt better. She rose and fell on me slowly, both of us moaning and yearning for more… but in good accordance with doctor’s orders she slid off me to grab a condom and roll it down my cock before mounting me again.
It had been a long day. We had started it early, as parents of schoolchildren tend to do, by getting the kids off to school. This was followed by a follow-up appointment to make sure all was well after our still-tender ordeal with the miscarriage. Mrs. AP and I are still prone to sudden bouts of deep sadness regarding our loss, and this trip (while absolutely necessary) heightened this sensitivity. Despite this, we were treated by a very knowledgeable, compassionate, and helpful RN who provided some helpful contact information for a clinic closer to the house that can provide all the additional services we need. Armed with new knowledge, we were then given the best news of the day: we can resume normal adult activities! Huzzah! Carnal celebrations to come!
Blessed with knowledge and having a whole day ahead of us, we started hopping around various used car lots to sit in and test drive as many reasonable vehicles as we could in hopes of finally finding something we can pursue. 6 hours, a dozen lots, and lots of talking to salesmen later we had ruled several vehicles off our lists and perhaps added one or two others. The trick will be to find the required funds for the purchase / down payment, but Mrs. AP is extremely skilled at finding extraordinary deals. Following a stop for a bite to eat and some shopping to get some new sheets and a new waterproof pad for the bed, we finally made it home after only 12 hours out of the house. We got the kids tidied up and off to bed, did some spot cleaning, and finally — finally! — I got Mrs. AP into bed.
I was tired. I was sore. My head hurt, my back hurt, my shoulders hurt. Hell, even my legs and ass hurt. Not to be outdone, my cock decided to chime in with how much it hurt. Something about Mrs. AP laying next to me as her hand caressed my legs and brushed my thighs and teased my pubic mound had resulted in such a raging, pulsing, demanding erection that is was if my cock had become too big for it’s own skin. The ache pervaded the length of me, the girth of me, and down into the core of me. I needed only one thing; for Mrs. AP to lower herself upon me, to impale her very being with seemingly massive cock, and ride me like the sexy vixen she is until I exploded inside her. So it was no surprise when her hand finally wrapped my throbbing cock and she asked if there was anything I wanted that I very firmly said “Ride me like a wild woman.”
I wrote yesterday about how my first interpersonal sexual experience was with one of my best friends, and how it was scary and nerve-wracking and exciting and wonderful all at the same time. Sometimes a first encounter is like that; the two people know each other well enough to work well together long enough to make something special happen. Other times aren’t always so magnificent, but as life milestones they become resilient in memory nevertheless. Such was the case for me during my 10th grade year of High School, when I had my series of firsts with my girlfriend at the time, B.
In the summer of 1996, at 15 years old, my Air Force father was relocated from Patrick Air Force Base in Melbourne, FL to Maxwell Air Force Base in Montgomery, AL. We were quasi-familiar with the area and intimately familiar with the base; we’d been stationed there from 1986 to 1993, but had lived in the suburb of Prattville that first run through. This time we were “in the city”, and I was entering High School as “the new kid.” Granted, I wasn’t the only one. Military-heavy cities see a high population cycle for “Brats”, and this particular school was no different.
One of the difficulties was finding somebody to date. Most of my classmates came up through Elementary and Junior High together, so they had rapport established and knew where all the social circle boundaries lie. I got to try to navigate that new landscape blindly, feeling my way carefully around who I liked and had a reasonable chance of having my interest reciprocated. Come mid-October, I had firmly established crushes on C, D, and B. (See, even then I was Poly and didn’t know it!) The only problem I had was, I could not for the life of me tell if any of them even had a glimmer of an interest in me. I looked for ever sign I could, but as a dense, hormonally driven, geek of a teenager I had no clue the signs to look for. None.
Until I got a note from B. She had a thing for me and wanted me all to herself. So I took that note and ran with it, and by Thanksgiving we were a couple. I swore up and down, good little Christian boy that I was at the time, that I wasn’t go to try anything with her. That didn’t last long. (more…)