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I was nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Only my tail wasn’t the one at the center of attention.

As I considered the sight before me – you on a hotel bed, on your knees, face down on a pillow, with a blindfold on – I still struggled to believe this was all real, and the idea of what was about to happen stretched even my curvy little mind. The idea that you were here, willing to do this, to trust me at this level…not knowing what was in store… The love that went into that trust was as mind-blowing as the sight. For the millionth time in my life, I recognized just how lucky I am.

With a huge smile on my face that you couldn’t see, I turned and considered the new player in our lives.

**********

I’ve known all my life that I got a bit short-changed in the shorts, you might say. Not very long, not very thick, but the most cruel irony was the way that ED had made it hard, well, often impossible, to use my cock to love you the way I wanted to. The way a beautiful woman like you should be loved on. Oh, without doubt, I still take pleasure in giving you pleasure, and one of my hottest fantasies involves having you sitting on my face as I pleasure you; no, more like you taking your pleasure like that, over and over, until you finally rise up off of me, fully sated.

But nothing could replace the feeling of being inside you when you orgasmed, pumping my cock in and out of your wet womanhood, your internal silky caresses virtually pulling the cum and my soul out of the end of my cock. And even when I was younger, I wanted to fill you more, to give you more to squeeze on, more to cum on.

I know it probably didn’t bother you the way it did me, but you are a woman, and you know there could be a difference. And as your husband, I wanted you to get that difference, even if it meant swallowing a little pride to get it.

And that’s why Morgan was here tonight.

**********

Morgan was a teacher you’d known since your undergrad days. He was a few years older than most of the other students; you were the mom who went back to school in her 50’s. You weren’t looking for a paramour; certainly not in that crowd of young people. Morgan may have been older than the “kids”, but our oldest son was just a little bit older than him.

Like us, Morgan was a veteran. He had spent his six years in the Marine Corps, and had decided he wanted to use his benefits to become a teacher, which explained why he was in several classes with you.

If the Marine Corps had needed a poster model for recruiting females and gay males, Morgan would have been an excellent candidate. He stood 6’4″ tall, and still retained a toned, muscular physique and the erect posture of a proud Marine. His voice was an easy bass; the kind that made women a bit weak and wet just hearing him speak. To boot, he was a genuinely nice guy.

You admitted you found him attractive when I asked you about it; I’d heard enough about him to suspect you probably had more than a purely academic interest in him. We’ve always been good about that; discussing people we found hot (or not), from screen stars to bodies at the pool or beach. No jealousy, just an open understanding that there were some really attractive people in the world. (And some that should never, ever be seen in a Speedo or a thong.)

After graduation, you’d lost track of Morgan, and moved on to your teaching career and raising the kids who were still at home. Once in a while you’d see him on Facebook, and I could tell by your happiness that you missed him.

I was never worried about you running off with Morgan. It wasn’t because I thought you were too old for him, which is what I’m sure you’d have said if I suggested that he may have had a bit of a “thing” for you. “Who, me? There’s no way! I’m way too old for him. I probably just remind him of his mother or something,” you protested the first time I joked about your new “boyfriend.” I know what I saw; I caught him watching one day as you walked away, and his eyes were most certainly fixed on your delicious derriere as you trod away. My confidence that you wouldn’t act on any desire for him wasn’t based on a lack of desire on either part, but on your steadfastness and faithfulness. That just wasn’t and isn’t who you are.

None of which stopped ME from imagining the two of you together, of course. You know my mind has always been a bit more steeped in erotic fantasy than the average person, so you probably weren’t too surprised when I mentioned his name a couple of times when we were intimate, trying to stoke a bit of a forbidden heat in the confines of our own bedroom.

The first time I did it, it backfired on me. “Why would you bring him up?” you demanded, and I immediately knew, as other men could understand, that I had done something wrong. I tried to explain that I was only trying to prod your fantasy life a bit, maybe excite you a bit more, but you seemed horrified by the idea of fantasizing about someone else while being intimate with one’s spouse. Manavgat Escort That led to an Ice Age that lasted a month and a half.

Which you’d think would mean I’d learn that lesson, but…

A year later, as we sat beside a hotel pool during a very rare weekend away for the two of us, we were playing our game of spotting people. We’d often point out people for the other person; you’d spot a scandalously under-clad woman, or one who should have ordered a size or three larger, and I’d point out good looking – or ridiculous looking – men for your entertainment. And then I spotted a young man who looked a lot like Morgan. I pointed out the likeness, and your reply was eloquent and graceful.

“Who? Oh…” you trailed off as I pointed. “Uh…um, yeah,…he…well, he’s certainly…” For the next hour, from my chair beside and slightly behind yours, I noticed that behind your mirrored sunglasses, you were taking note of this Adonis every time he got in or out of the pool, dried himself off, or spread sunscreen on himself. You weren’t alone: Every female at the pool from 18 to 80 was ogling him. (I mean literally; the little grandmother from Connecticut was practically drooling when he was applying the Coppertone.)

WIthin an hour and a half of him getting there, you were dragging me off to the room where, in a wonderful reversal, you wasted no time in stripping off both of our bathing suits and pushing me onto the bed. I thought briefly about asking you what got you so hot, whether the young god by the pool stirred up your memories of Morgan, or whether you were imagining Morgan, or the pool stud, or both were ravishing you.

But I didn’t open my mouth, other than to kiss your heated lips or to lick and suck between your legs. I just kept my silence, thanked God for the bounty without asking too many questions, and did all I could to give you a couple of orgasms before I finally slipped myself into your wet heat. Not surprisingly, this was not one of my best performances. By the time I got inside you, I was so turned on I was cumming within the first ten strokes. This time, though, I did catch just a momentary look of frustration on your face, even though I’d done my best to please you first.

And that’s when this seed was first planted.

**********

When you experienced a resurgence of sexual desire, and a willingness to explore the world of erotic writing and pleasures with me, I was the happiest man in the world. I was walking a balance beam: I didn’t want to scare you back into a shell, but I was eager to explore new things with you.

There were certain things I knew were off-limits: “Bathroom” stories, incest, violence, and a few other categories. We actively browsed sexual toys on line, and I encouraged you to find Literotica articles that turned you on, so I could get an idea of what I could write for you. I was finding my stride in writing erotica, and I was even more eager to write for you, my long-time lover and wife, than I was for strangers, And from a couple of observations, I finally deduced what might just fuel your fires, and bring your heat to the next level. That, with some careful coaxing, and a barrage of questions from you and assurances from me, led us to this moment.

**********

After a wonderful dinner in the hotel’s nice restaurant, and a few glasses of wine for you, we returned to our room. As we got close to the door, I could sense a palpable rise in your anxiety, though you said nothing. Inside the room, I closed the door and pulled you to me. I kissed you, looking into your eyes, and you gave me a brave smile.

“Trust me, I think you’re going to like this. Just trust me, okay?” I asked softly, looking into your green eyes and remembering just how I fell in love with you.

“Okay…” you breathed, though I felt a little tremble go through you. “I…I trust you not to do anything I wouldn’t approve of.”

I smiled, and began to slowly, gently unzip your dress. I smoothed my hands over your bare upper back, stroking over every little special place I’ve learned over the last 38 years, until my thumbs slid under the straps on either shoulder. Still holding your eyes, I kissed you as I slid those straps off of you, pulling the dress forward and then down slightly, until it was caught by your arms, which are around my neck.

I broke the kiss, and you lowered your arms, letting the driess slide down more. Reaching down and around you, I pushed my hands beneath it, sliding the dress down off of your curvy ass and giving it the momentum to fall to the floor at your feet. You stood before me now in just your black thong panties and lacy black bra, with the strand of black pearls still around your neck; you know how much I love seeing you wearing only them.

I unclasped your bra in the front and pushed it back off of your shoulders; it slid down and off of you, joining the dress on the floor. I embraced you, feeling your naked breasts against my shirt, nipples poking me. I raised Manavgat Escort bayan my hands, cupping both of them, stroking my thumbs over the tips. I know they’re not really an erogenous zone for you, but nonetheless, I felt them respond, stiffening, and I was drawn to them. I bent my head down, kissing and licking gently on first the right one, then the left, taking each one in my mouth in turn and sucking gently on the nipples.

My hands on your hips, I walked you backwards to the bed, where you sat at my prompting, still looking up at me as my eyes consumed your beauty. Part of me wanted to strip off my clothes and take you then and there, but I knew it would be better if I waited.

Reaching into my back pocket, I withdrew a black cloth with a bit of string to it, and held it up before you. You knew what it was, and blushed.

“Do you really…I mean, is this…necessary?” you asked, some fear evident even over the trust.

I cocked my head slightly and smiled at you. “Well, yes, but if you don’t think you can do it, we can-” You stopped me with an uplifted palm.

“No, it’s…okay. It’s just a bit of a stretch for me, but…I trust you. Whatever it is you have in mind,” and you smiled.

With that, I took the blindfold and extended it, passing it over your head and carefully fitting it over your eyes. This wasn’t a makeshift thing; it was an honest-to-goodness blindfold, one of the purchases I made without you, knowing that it might backfire, or…it might be as wonderful as I thought it would be in my fantasies.

While the blindfold deprived me of one of the great joys of my life – looking into your eyes – it almost immediately put your face into a frame of vulnerability. I kissed you, and your momentary shock at not seeing it coming was very sexy.

“Lay back on the bed, love,” I directed you. You did, laying back with your legs still off the end of the mattress, feet almost still touching the floor.

“Now, whatever happens, you have to keep the blindfold on. No peeking, none at all, okay?” I asked.

“Yes sir!” you replied, with a smile. Then adding, “I…I promise… But I have to tell you, this…I’m really…I’m really trying to be strong,” you added, a bit of the fear tinting your speech.

“Okay. And I promise, this will be good.”

I knelt down at the foot of the bed, and for the next 20 minutes or so, I put all the effort I could into arousing you,. Between slow strokes with my fingers over your sexy panties, to stroking and squeezing your ass, to licking up and down over the gusset of those panties until wetness was permeating them from both sides. Your hands reached down a few times, trying to direct my head, to put more pressure where you needed it, especially once I slid your soaking panties down and off of your ankles. Normally you struggle to let me go down on you, because you don’t like to relinquish control, but tonight you have surrendered to my plans, frustrating as they might be.

I spread your legs and pushed them back then, beginning to shower love and care on you. I licked slowly up and down your lips, drawing out your sweet nectar, just grazing over your clit on each upward stroke, then circling it, then back down again, alternating rhythm occasionally just as you started to approach a peak.

“Please, John, please, finish it! Please, make me cum!! Lick me, suck my clit some more!” you begged me. Rarely do you talk like this, even in the heat of passion, and it takes all I can do not to acquiesce to your pleas.

But not tonight. A plan is in place.

Instead of you, I pulled a pillow down from the top, I bid you turn over onto your knees, guiding your knees almost to the edge, and sliding them gently apart. You settle your face onto the pillow, not sure what to expect next.

“Do you remember Morgan?” I asked. “The tall, good-looking Marine from the University?” I added, as if you didn’t immediately know who I was asking about.

“Yes…” you responded, a little unsure of what was going on.

“Do you remember how handsome he was? Tall, muscular; you found him attractive, didn’t you?” I asked, careful not to let my tone give away any hints.

“Yes,” you answered after a pause. “He was very handsome, but…”

“It’s okay, I know he’s good looking. I’m not jealous. Actually, I get it. A hot young Marine, always looking sharp, all the girls after him… But you know he really WAS into you. And I don’t mean just for the chocolate chip cookies,” I added, remembering you taking a batch of them to a Friday morning class. “I happen to know for a fact that he thought you were sexy. I watched him one day when I picked you up. You walked by, and he about broke his neck turning to check out your ass,” I said, stroking my hand over that same delicious derriere. “He wanted some of this hot MILF,” I teased, as my fingers stroked down below, running gently along your soaking wet pussy lips.

You didn’t say anything, but I could see the wheels of your imagination Escort Manavgat spinning.

“Yep, I happen to know that Morgan would just love to be right here…” I teased my middle finger up and down your nether lips, then pushed my middle finger deep inside you. It was like sticking my finger into a hot, wet, silky glove.

You moaned at this, and I could feel you trying to capture that finger inside you. I pumped it slowly in and out a couple of times, then once more, even more slowly.

“Tell me the truth, if he were here right now, would you want him to do…this?” I slid a second finger in, opening you just a bit more, giving you just a bit of a delightful stretch. You couldn’t hold back the groan.

“But…” you gasped, “you’re my husband, you’re all-” I cut you off with a light spank on your right buttock.

“No, tell the truth. If I were right here, and I gave my approval, would you want him to touch you like this…” I slid my right finger along your lips as the first two continued to gently stroke inside you. The pad of that ring finger found your clit, and began to circle it, but with a little more pressure this time.

“Oh, shit! That feels…yes, yes, I’d want him to do that!” you admitted.

I knelt back down behind you, pulling my hand from your pussy, and leaned in and licked you from the opening of your wet sex down to your clit, which I then stroked back and forth with my tongue before capturing it and giving it a brief suck.

“NGGHHH!” Your grunt as you tried to push back against me was definitely unladylike, and it challenged my ability to see this through as planned. I stood back up behind you, and placed a hand on either of your ass cheeks, kneading gently.

“Do you trust me?” I asked again. This was THE crucial point in the night.

You paused, but only for a few seconds. “Yes…yes I trust you. But please, I need to-“

“Then you must be quiet now,” I cut you off. “No looking, no speaking. Tonight I want you to embrace your sexual side, and let me give you what you need. You know I was right. You knew Morgan wanted you, and the truth is, you wanted him. But you would never do that, would you? You’d never go behind my back, would you? But I want you to have pleasure, more pleasure than you’ve ever had in your life. I want you to feel a cock inside you, a longer, harder cock than I have, fucking you, making you cum. Tonight, I’m going to give you that, but you have to trust me. 100%. Can you do that?”

I can practically feel your anxiety, your fear. What did I have planned? What was going on here?

In spite of the whirlwind of unanswered questions, you nodded your head.

**********

You felt my hands leave you, and the next sound you heard was the hotel door opening and closing.

“What are you; what’s going on?” you began to ask, and you started to move your hand to remove the blindfold, but I stopped you, capturing your wrist softly but firmly.

“Trust?” I asked.

I could see the struggle going on, and for a moment I thought this was all going to come crashing down like the house of cards it felt like. But then you just pulled your hand from me, returned it to the pillow, and sighed.

I was so proud of you at that moment, letting go, relinquishing your fears.

A few long moments later, as you heard the sound of what seemed like a lot of clothes coming off, you felt hands on your hips, and then heard my voice from back over your left shoulder.

“Did you ever hear the rumors about Morgan? About how well…equipped he is?” I asked. “I know sometimes girls talk about those things. Well, it turns out they, the rumors I mean, were, well, are true. I happen to know that he really IS big. Much bigger than I am, for sure. About 8 or 9 inches when he’s hard.”

You gasped as you felt something hard and LARGE rub along your slit. Your head jumped up off the pillow.

“John!” you started, but I shushed you.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’m going to give you what you really want right now. Well, I’ve got a little help with it, but you’ll be fine. Trust me, love. There you go,” I said, soothing you even as I felt you begin to relax. Within a couple of more strokes, I could feel you actually responding, rubbing back just a bit against these strokes. Morgan began to show moisture along the top of his length.

I knew you were wet, but I also knew that Morgan was going to be a lot more than you were used to getting, a liberal amount of lube was applied to his hard length. Then, with a hand at the base to steady the aim, the head, the large, imposing but smooth head pushed against you, and probed to find the portal through which it would be entering. I could hear your breath catch as you felt the hard pressure of a youthful cock for the first time in a long while.

Once Morgan was in place, both hands returned to your hips, and with a gentle but insistent push, his length began to work its way into you. You gasped and moaned as each inch brought substantial girth with it, and the sounds got louder as he ventured deeper.

As much of a challenge as taking this big cock was for you, your desire was more than enough for the task. As Morgan reached his maximum depth and began to slowly retreat, you emitted a sound I’d never heard from you before.

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