An erotic story, told from her point of view. A husband and wife had a full-on busy work week which left little room for adult play time. Then they attended a BBQ, and learned an important lesson.
A Lesson Learned
Today is a bright summer Sunday. Warmer than a typical spring day, but not yet having the sting of the extreme heat that sets in. I’ve had a good sleep after a raunchy night with my husband. Let me tell you what lesson we learned that led to our all-nighter.
My husband and I had a full-on busy week at work. Y’know those weeks where you come home mentally exhausted and can’t be bothered with any chores? It wasn’t until yesterday we were presented with an opportunity to do some washing, food shopping, and napping.
In the middle of said napping we received a phone call reminding us of a BBQ we were committed to attend later.
But I wanted to have some quality time with my husband. If you aren’t reading between the lines already, that means my hormones were calling for some sexy action. The way I figured it: go to BBQ, say hello, keep it simple, then bugger off early. I was going to tell everyone we just needed to catch up on a lot since we both had busy weeks. It’s not a total fabrication since part of marriage responsibility does entail keeping the relationship sexually charged and intimate.
So we got up. I let my husband have his shower first. Any woman will agree with me when I tell you it’s unfair a man can be ready for anything in 15 minutes or less. Thinking ahead, that would give me the bathroom and bedroom all to myself to get my sexy on. When I stepped out of the shower, freshly shaved and silky smooth, he was no where to be seen.
Or to see me.
I took care to style my hair slightly wavy. Or as he says, “with subtle kinkiness”.
Next, I decided on a sleeveless top with a skirt that partly revealed my thighs, gripping my ass where it counts. His ass may drive the piston, but mine controls the cam-shaft.
One last look in the mirror, and I was more than satisfied with my effort.
Classy sexy at its finest.
I walked out to the kitchen to meet my hubby, but he wasn’t around. I decided to lean up against the kitchen counter and wait.
I won’t forget the next set of events any time soon. He came through the garage door after starting the car’s air conditioning. He was halfway through asking, “Are you…” when he saw me, losing all thought of his question. Like his mouth just stopped moving, and was left open as if stuck in the middle of saying, “wow”. His eyes devoured me from top to bottom.
Just what I was hoping for.
Or what any woman would who makes an effort for her man.
I walked over to him, completing his sentence while kissing him on his cheek. “Am I what? Ready? Yup. Let’s go.”
I deliberately walked past him so he would continue to devour my form-fitting skirt, my hair, my shoes, my face, my legs, my perfume. All part of the allure to set his mind reeling.
* * * * * * * *
It didn’t take us long to get to the BBQ. Everyone’s kids immediately announced our arrival.
We managed to find our way into the house, through a few rooms, past the downstairs bathroom, and out the back door where the action was happening. The backyard was a good size for such an event. The kids came running through behind us.
The BBQ was already going, with fresh hamburgers, chicken, and veggie skewers over the flames. The veranda area was covered and paved. Bordering it was green, freshly cut grass that backed all the way up to parkland – easy access for kids to play in the woods. Throw in some decorative landscaped features, garden beds, mature trees, and it could easily be mistaken for a paradise when the wildlife would come through later.
We said our initial hellos, then separated to converse with the various neighbors and friends: he went to chat with the blokes about blokey stuff; I joined the ladies to get the latest gossip and juicy topics.
Speaking of juicy topics, let me get on to that since I know that’s why you’re really reading this. 😉
The ladies continued with jovial conversations which quickly turned to dirty topics. I have to admit I was paying attention, but not really listening. My thoughts kept imagining my husband’s hands on my body, feeling him undress me, his tongue licking my nipples. Which, in turn, left my body semi-frustrated.
Then someone announced the food was ready. While everyone else was gathering around the table and BBQ, I seriously needed to freshen up. I found my way through the back door to the ground floor bathroom. I stopped, thought about the size, and then decided to head to the second one upstairs in case someone else needed to use this one. The one upstairs was more of a full bathroom instead of just a toilet and powder area, allowing me a bit more space.
Up the stairs I wentI turned, walked down the hallway, and entered the second bathroom. The rug was soft and quiet under my shoes. Locking the door behind me, I exhaled, looked in the mirror, and was beginning to think that maybe my choice of clothing wasn’t the greatest idea.
Maybe I should have gone for something more of a springtime dress? I thought. It would have hidden my sweat a bit better. At least with the heat, my hair was holding its own. I reached around and lifted the hair from the back of my neck. Moist, but not drenched. Putting it up slightly would have been the smart thing to do to keep my neck cool. Holding my wavy hair up looked funny, so I let it fall back down as the sound of the bathroom door closing downstairs reminded me I needed to focus on the task at hand.
Next was my shirt. Still relatively neat. My nipples were semi-erect, yearning for attention. My padded bra did a good job of concealing them. I cupped my breasts with a gentle squeeze, but it just was not the same as when my husband held them, or pinched my nipples, or traced circles around their base. Those delicious sensations a woman loves to feel. Why does it always feel better when he does it to me?
The toilet flushed downstairs. Whoever it was opened the door to leave. I needed to get on with it to rejoin the others for the feast.
I finished straightening up my outfit. “As good as it’s going to get.” I said to myself.
Opening the door, I stepped out, turned to head back to the stairs, and stopped dead in my tracks.
My husband was standing right there in the hallway.
* * * * * * * *
I said nothing. Just looked at him.
He said nothing. Just looked at me.
It’s amazing what a gaze can do.
Even without words, a gaze can be devastatingly powerful if you keep your head still. A moving head shows anxiety, while a non-moving head indicates focus and close attention. I could feel myself being undressed under his steady gaze. My man looking at me with desire. Every woman’s dream. That dream was responsible for the wetness building between my legs.
He closed the distance between us, reaching out with his hands, pulling me towards him, and hungrily kissed me. The mouth. The taste. The tongue.
In the process, my hand was flat on his chest. At first he might have thought it was hesitation. Or a complete stop sign. On the contrary, it became an explorer. I moved it around, side to side, up and down, feeling his pecs, and then, as my body became more hungry, slit it up behind his neck.
Meanwhile, he found the zipper on my skirt. A tiny metal teardrop. He eased it down while simultaneously guiding me back into the bathroom, silently closing the door behind us.
My lips moved against his. “Oh gawd.” As much as I wanted him, the practicality of the situation… in someone else’s house… someone else’s bathroom… “Is this a good idea?”
“Feels good to me.” He kept pulling the zipper down.
“What if someone needs to use this bathroom?”
“There’s the one downstairs. They’re setting the table. Taking the food off the bbq.” The zipper hit bottom. “I figure that gives me five minutes to have my way with you.”
And with a slight of hand, he pushed my skirt down over my hips where it puddled at my feet.
The suaveness at which he stripped me of my skirt sent any care I had out the window. I stepped out of my skirt’s puddle. Underneath was black lace underwear.
Totally insubstantial; sexy none-the-less.
Before he could get to it I reached forward and unclipped his belt, pushed his pants down, and forced him to step out of the puddle around his feet.
We kissed again, passing some kind of threshold as we were now totally out of control. We staggered two or three steps back until my butt hit the sink.
He pushed up against me and I could feel his hardness. It was like a metal pipe between our bodies. As we continued to kiss, our bodies entered into a pseudo-rocking rhythm until we could hold back no more. He stripped out of his underwear, then ripped my lacey panties down.
That initial contact.
His cock came into contact with my dripping wet lips. I love those first few sensations when my lover’s cock gently pushes its way forward. The feeling of about to be penetrated by your raging bull. Where you want to wait, but can’t wait, all at the same time.
But instead of pushing in, he pushed up. The effect was two-fold — it stimulated the most sensitive parts of his penis; the long stroke meant the entirety of his cock’s length would rub over the top of my clit.
I couldn’t help but let out a muffled moan as one continuous wave of pleasure exploded from my groin, up my spine to the base of my neck, and out to the tips of my rock hard nipples. And then I sucked in my breath as he reversed his direction, causing another long wave of pleasure to go coursing through the entirety of my nervous system.
He knew what he was doing.
He pushed in with a movement that was slow, deliberate, purposeful.
He did it a second time and let me tell you I thought I was going to cum right there. My body was yearning for his good hard cock and couldn’t wait much longer!
Third time lucky. He pushed in with a movement that was slow, deliberate, purposeful. Sliding through, he hit every sensitive nerve point. My arms wrapped around his body, hissing at him, “Oh my…. yeeeeeesssss…”
I could feel his pulse inside me and it felt wooooooooooooooooooonderful! He held position as we looked into each other’s eyes before sharing a passionate kiss.
He pulled out slowly with a big grin. To the point where my pussy lips were clinching on to the head of his cock, not wanting to let go, before he pushed forward again with the same, deliberate, I’m-in-control-and-going-to-have-you-the-way-I-want-you motion.
The way he was taking me. Those emotions and tingles were so intense. The feeling of him pushing in, rubbing past my clit, using my muscles to squeeze him for an even great sensation.
Uncontrollably, through a muffled squeal, my body let him know it was ready.
“Oh gaaawwwd. Yes. F*ck me. F*ck me quick.”
He let himself slide out, told me he was going to do just that, and without warning spun me around. I came face to face with myself in the mirror. He took one of his hands, placed it on the back of my neck, and forced me to bend over. I easily complied with my hands stretched out front, palms flat against the mirror giving myself support.
I watched in the mirror as I felt him enter me from behind. There were no slow deliberate motions this time. He just started pumping me. No warnings. Just good and hard. The way my body wanted it. I closed my eyes and my head fell forward as my husband was pounding me from behind. My arms became shock-absorbers, keeping myself from crashing head first into the mirror, and being used as leverage to push back against his thrusts.
Next thing I know, his free hand grabbed a handful of my hair, pulling on it, forcing me to keep my head raised.
“I want you to watch yourself getting f*cked from purposely teasing me all day.”
That single statement made the whole experience astronomically hotter. It was like watching myself in a movie: one of those steamy, fantasy forbidden sex scenes and, at the same time, I was experiencing it. Let me tell you ladies, seeing yourself getting railed might be considered taboo, but watching us buck back and forth as he went in and out of me drove me wiiiiiiilllld !!
I was loving it and wasn’t shy about showing it.
Sex is not only about what we’re feeling when our partners touch our erogenous zones or vice versa; it is very much about what you are experiencing visually during the actual act. We get turned on by seeing our lover’s face contorted in pleasure. We are aroused by seeing the way both of our bodies look during sex. You feel pleasure from receiving it from your lover, as well as by watching yourself react to that pleasure.
Adding a mirror is like a metaphor for your deepest desires: a multifaceted sexual experience that engages nearly all of your senses.
It’s so erotic; so exciting; so primal.
And we embraced it!
So much so I couldn’t control what I was saying. My words came out synced with his pounding thrusts. “Take me! Oh! Yes! Yes! Gawd! Yes! Give it! To! Me!”
I was going to cum, and knew he would too. It’s like pilots on a bombing run. Seeing the targets approaching and growing in the bomb sights. Long and slow, closer and closer. Watching him f*ck me in front of the mirror, my hair being pulled, him pounding me, my body rocking, in essence begging for more of it because my body wanted it.
Eventually faster and harder, faster and harder, before it triggered his oncoming orgasm. Targets were now large in the bomb sights, and he was getting ready for his release.
“Oooohhh f*ck. That’s it. I’m going to give it to you baby!”
“Yes! Build baby! Shoot your cum! In me! Where it! Belongs! Fill me! Up!”
My hair was released as he grabbed both my shoulders, pulling me back for his one last lunge forward. I heard him let out a deep, rising groan before his body suffered from the orgasmic spasmadic paralysis.
I leveraged my arms and pushed myself back onto him.
His cock swelled while I used my muscles to tighten my grip on it. I could feel it moving up his cock and how it twitches when he shoots. Then like bombs exploding on impact, he came inside of me. I absolutely love the sensations his shooting cock brings. Each shot makes me feel more and more full. Nothing turns me on more than that and it sent me into my own raging orgasm.
* * * * * * * *
He was still bent over me. Catching our breaths, it wasn’t long when we heard a distinctive creak causing us to look up and freeze solid.
In the mirror, back towards the door, now slightly open, I saw a small face with a bright pair of eyes looking right at us.
That moment when something suddenly dawns on you and you feel the neurons in your brain collapsing like dominoes.
I think we simultaneously realized what we forgot to do just before hearing, “I found them! They’re up here!”
Any parent will tell you that if:
…you’re going to sneak off to do the deed
…and there’s young children around
you had better make sure you lock any doors behind you.
We unfroze, hurriedly closed the door, panicked, then laughed at our forgetfulness.
A lesson learned.
If you enjoyed this erotic story, I invite you to read my other erotic tales.