Dear Diary,

All morning I wanted to write this entry, but I waited until my heart calmed, and my thoughts became clear.

Yesterday was Jason’s birthday and from the moment he came home early, I felt something was different.  I was still making his cake when he walked in and kissed me.  It wasn’t his normal peck; his tongue parted my lips, his hands slid down my back and gripped my pert little butt. This was new.  Jason had never been a very passionate man. He didn’t pinch, spank or do anything that wasn’t proper.  Some may call this boring, but I was content with his traditional ways. I was never a very sexual girl anyway, and when I was in need, I quietly took care of it myself while my husband was at work, like a good wife should.

After dinner, Jason surprised me again by joining me in the shower. I must say, I enjoyed washing his body, and being fondled by his strong hands immensely. Feeling him behind me, yet unable to see him, not knowing what he would do, or what he could do to me was exhilarating.  Just thinking about his firm member sliding over my skin is making my nipples so hard, I dare not cover them.

Once before, he had entered me from behind, and despite our height difference, I wanted him to take me like that again. The more he massaged my soapy breasts, the harder I pushed my butt against him. The warmth of his penis probing my opening sent thrills up my spine.

“Do it, baby. Put it in,” I whispered, rising up on my toes, but just when I thought he was about to spear me, he turned away. “What?”

He didn’t answer my lustful plea. He turned off the water, and dried me off. That too was quite pleasant, and something we should do more often. He quickly dried himself, took me by the hand, and led me to our bed. I guessed it was too difficult entering me while standing in the shower, so we were going for the bed.

I playfully pulled away from him, and jumped onto the bed. On my back, I raised my knees and spread my legs. It was a simply whorish and shameful display, and my prudish mother would have been horrified to see me doing it, but I didn’t care. I was free, I was in love, I was naked, and I was hungry for meat.

“Come and get it,” I said, and parted my pink lips with two fingers.

Jason stopped at the bed, and gazed down at my offering. I could see the flames of lust in his eyes, and I knew I was in for a glorious pounding. Making soft, sweet love is wonderful, but every now and then I long not to be treated like a delicate wife, but as a dirty, lustful whore; fit only to be ravaged mercilessly.

Grinning in anticipation, I decided to play with him a bit more. Leisurely, I inserted a finger into myself and then slowly withdrew it. I held up my wet digit before his staring eyes, and then slipped it into my mouth. I had never done that before. The flavor was both exotic and thrilling.

I pulled out my finger and held it out to him. “Do you want to taste it?”

He carefully leaned down to my hand and stuck out his tongue, but just when I thought he would test my sweetness, he grabbed my thighs, and pushed my legs back. In an instant his head was where it had never been, and so was his hot tongue. Up and down, he flowed over my quivering lips, caressing them, sucking them, and parting them. With wild abandon he penetrated me, again and again; darting in and out me, drinking all my running fluids. It was a truly exhilarating sensation; one I had only dreamed of before, and yet, I wanted more.

I don’t know what possessed me to do it, but I grabbed a handful of his brown hair, and pulled his head higher while sliding my hips lower. “Lick it, LICK IT!” I moaned through gritted teeth, and fiercely shook his head. 

Obediently, he focused on my swollen and throbbing clit. There are no words for the heat and pure electricity, his nimble actions elicited from my sex. My mind was in a whirlwind of pleasure and confusion. I wanted him inside me more than ever, but I also didn’t want him to stop. For the first time in my life, I wished I had two men at once.

Before I could make up my mind, the decision was made for me. Like a frenzy of escaping bees I felt it building.

“That’s it, that it,” I screamed, and clamped his head between my shaking thighs. Like waves crashing onto the shore, the pleasure hit me again and again. I don’t know how long it lasted, or how many times the waves struck, but when it was over, my body was both numb and tingly. Painfully, I relaxed my fingers and released his tussled hair. “Dear God!  I never felt anything like that before. I love you, honey. I love you so much. You can have me. Do whatever you want to me.”

Why did I say that? At the time, the words came from a place I did not know existed. But words once said, cannot be unsaid.

“Anything, Grace?” he asked, lifting his wet face, and staring into my watery eyes.

“Whatever you want, birthday boy,” I replied. I reached my hands between us, and grasped his semi-hard penis. “Take me.” I pulled him to my heat. His soft head slid across my silky lips, and touched my sensitive clit. A secondary shockwave shot through me, and I slowly exhaled with delight.

“I want your flower, Grace,” he whispered into my ear.

“It’s open and waiting for you. Take it.” I tried to pull him inside me, but he held back.
Jason lifted off me, and laid his hands on my knees. Our eyes locked in a lover’s gaze, and I tried to read his thoughts.

“Not that flower. I want the other one.”

“What other?” For a second, I was lost as I stared into his eyes, but then it dawned on me. Instantly, my body stiffened, and my muscles contracted. A flurry of panic bloomed deep within my core. To say fear gripped my heart is an understatement. It damn near stopped it. Why did he want that? How did he ever hope to get in, and what would happen to me if he did? Visions of limping around the house, unable to sit filled my mind.

I felt my head slowly move from side to side, and the word NO form on my lips. But then, I remembered my promise. Yes, it was given in passion and at a moment of vulnerability, but it was also given with the words ‘I love you’.

I felt like a fly caught in a spider’s web; so I sought the only avenue I could think of to save myself, delay.

“But, Jason, you’re so big, and my…that opening is so small. You couldn’t possibly get in without help.” I thought it was a sound non-argument, and would provide a few days for him to hopefully lose interest.

Jason got up from the bed, walked to dresser, and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a small pink bottle with the letters K-Y on the front. My heart sank, as it became apparent, my dear husband had planned ahead. With his thumb, he flicked open the top, and squeezed a large amount onto his hand. Smiling while walking back to me, he began rubbing the slick lube over his growing member.

“Turn over. On your hands and knees,” he said in a husky voice, while still stroking himself and making his penis glisten.

Feeling doomed by my stupid mouth, I felt warm tears form in my eyes. I slowly rolled onto my stomach, and lifted my exposed backside to him.  I kept my face buried in my pillow, so my fears and cries would be hidden. It also seemed a great place to scream, from what I was sure to be the dark side of love.

I clinched down, and then nearly jumped off the bed when his wet finger touched my virgin flower.

“Relax, baby. I’m just putting some lube in you.  Trust me, I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, as one and then two fingers massaged around and into my backdoor.

To be honest, if I weren’t so scared, it would have felt rather pleasant, but the bees were at war in my belly. Gently he pushed a finger into me; I felt him hit a wall, and then burst through.

“Oh,” I sighed, as I felt movement deep inside. “How many are in?” I asked, unaccustomed to the strange new sensation.

“Just one; are you ready.” It wasn’t a question, but a warning; so I held my breath and waited. He pulled his finger out with an audible plop.

I prayed that in his excitement, he would be quick. I felt his huge shaft fall between my slippery cheeks. Back and forth he ran across both my openings. I vacillated between pleasure and fear while he continued to grind through my groove, while squeezing my cheeks together. The pressure and heat of him felt so good that despite my dread I began to relax a little.

Suddenly he stopped, and slowly he pressed the tip of penis against my closed flower. I knew he would eventually get in. I was too well lubed, and he was too hard and strong to resist.  A small whimper escaped my lips, and tears ran freely unto my pillow as I felt my muscles gradually give in.

Heat exploded inside me, and my head shot up from my pillow. His hips slammed into my butt, and I involuntarily moaned in pleasure, but it wasn’t right. There was no pain. He wasn’t where he was supposed to be. I looked over my shoulder, and stared into his smiling face.

Reading my shock, he slowed his thrusts. “This flower is more than enough for me, my love.  It’s only fun for me, if it’s a joy for you.”

I threw my head back in pleasure and laughed out loud. I can honestly write, that I enjoyed every single stroke that man made last night. He could have had whatever he wanted, and in the end, all he wanted was a happy wife.

I hope we continue to live happily ever after, and maybe one day, I will open that other flower and welcome him home.