Déjà vu?

2012 started with a bang. To be precise, 2012 started with me banging my Wife. But after confronting the unworn lingerie issue on this New Year’s Eve, I had little hope of ushering in 2013 by ushering my cock into anything other than my own fist.

Having thrown myself into a full and uninterrupted day’s work on 31 Dec, I reached a convenient place to stop just in time for supper. For a change, my Wife had cooked, and both a lit candle and a bottle of wine were on the table. I wasn’t really that interested, and whilst the conversation was civil, I was still feeling decidedly grumpy.

After supper we crashed in separate chairs in front of the TV, and waited for the now traditional Jools Holland’s Hootenanny to mark the end of the year. Despite Her earlier assertion that we should talk later, there was no mention of the unworn lingerie. Something like 11:40pm, my Wife made some loosely light hearted comment about us lamentably not sharing the sofa on NYE, and pretty much instructed me to join Her, which I did.

As the witching hour approached, She disappeared upstairs unannounced. When She hadn’t returned before midnight, I had an inkling something was going on, although I wasn’t exactly sure what. A few minutes later She reappeared in Her decidedly unflattering, warm, winter dressing gown.

Was that a mischievous glint in Her eye?

She pulled open the robe to reveal the red torsolette I had bought Her last Xmas, and the matching thong. The first time the former has ever been worn, and only the second time for the latter.

WPtsl

And She looked fucking sexy!

There was, however, a small problem. After the earlier argument, I really wasn’t in the mood for sex.

I was informed that I’d better get my arse off the sofa and take advantage of Her before She changed Her mind. And on any other day I might well have moved to ravish Her on the living room floor, but my mindset wasn’t exactly primed for that. I explained. She reiterated the need for me to seize the moment – it was, after all, the raison d’être for the purchase!

I acquiesced and as I followed Her upstairs, She made a point of pulling Her dressing gown aside to show off her arse … just in case I hadn’t noticed She was wearing the thong. I stroked a cheek.

I excused myself for a moment to relieve my bladder and brush my teeth, and when I went into the bedroom, She was seductively reclined on the bed. Just in Her lingerie. I stripped off, and joined her on the bed.

Did I mention I wasn’t really in the mood, Dear Reader?
I pointed this out to Her again, given the context of our earlier fight.
But having made the effort to get dresses up for me, my Wife wasn’t really interested in taking No for an answer.

To cut a long story short, She straddled me on the bed and went straight to work on my cock. As She stroked it to hardness, She moved one of my hands onto Her arse, and the other up to caress one of Her tits. She also made the most of displaying Her satin and lace covered body to me, leaning forward for me to bury my face in her cleavage.

This was pretty much unprecedented, and it wasn’t long before I had to concede I was not just going thought the motions – I was seriously turned on. Thankfully, She seemed to be too, and She paused to take off Her thong and then sank Her moist pussy down onto my cock.

We fucked with long slow thrusts, but if I though Her referring to Her cunt as Her cunt the other day was hot, that paled into insignificance when She told me I was going to need to give Her a pounding. Which I did. Deep and hard till She whimpered and climaxed.

After a brief pause, She asked if I was going to cum in Her if we kept fucking. I was pretty sure I wasn’t so She dismounted, we curled up and She started massaging my member. As She did, we talked a little.

I wasn’t exactly surprised to hear that Her biggest reason for feeling uncomfortable with the idea of me wanting Her to dress in sexy underwear is that, being a card carrying feminist, and being thoroughly opposed to the sexualisation of women in western society, She did not want to feel objectified. I pointed out that I bought Her lingerie not because I regarded Her as a sex object, but rather as just sexy, that I wanted Her to feel sexy, and that I regarded that as an entirely positive and respectful stance. She acknowledged that, but said that this was one of Her issues. 

I asked if the underwear made Her feel sexy, and although it doesn’t as such, She likes the fact that I think She’s sexy in it. She’s not particularly interested in feeling sexy when I’m not around, and feels no need to be sexy (even covertly) whilst at work. (I hope you were never under the impression, Dear Reader, that my WIfe is a normal woman!)

Out of the blue, She told me that I don’t have to dress up for Her. A curious thing to say, I thought, so I enquired of Her meaning. Posing pouches and the like, She explained, went out with the 80s. I don’t own a posing pouch (or not that She has ever seen) and I had a feeling this might have been a reference to the ultra-low cut briefs I gave Her the opportunity to study me in the other day. Whilst I didn’t ask for confirmation, or tell Her that all my latest underwear acquisitions make me feel sexy, I did suggest that some people still like posing pouches. (Nor did I mention that I know 2 or 3 women with an active interest in seeing pictures of me in my diminutive pants (UK). You know who you are, Dear Reader!) Quite what She thinks of my see through green mesh trunks is uncertain, but I suspect She is not greatly enamoured of them. And presumably my rubberwear making an appearance wouldn’t be that welcome.

The conversation eventually subsided and my Wife focussed on the turgid flesh in Her hand with renewed enthusiasm. I asked Her to kneel between my legs, as getting jerked off  like this works better for me both visually and in terms of stroking angle. It also means She can play with my balls and  arsehole more easily, but She needed no invitation on that front. (I am so looking forward to the day She offers to stuff a finger or toy up my hole!)

Again I was nowhere near cumming, but as She had unusually allowed me to play with Her tits while She played with my dick, She was obviously getting juicy again and unbidden, positioned Herself to ride me again.(She wanted cock in Her twice in less that an hour! Again, unprecedented, and fucking awesome!)

As we continued to enjoy my massaging Her boobs, She asked if I wanted Her to keep the torsolette on. I didn’t mind, but took that as a cue to help Her out of it. Reaching round behind Her, I undid the numerous clips down Her back – we joked about how it had been hard work for Her to get into it Herself, and it dawned on me why She had not made it back downstairs in time to see us leave 2012 together.

As previously requested, I then gave Her another pounding, and She came again – even if my seed remained unspilt, it was a very satisfying couple of hours.

As we collapsed, covered in sweat and pussy juice, we talked a little more. She said She hopes this won’t be the one occasion in 2013 that She feels so motivated and I concurred. I told Her how much I feel the need to fuck on a regular basis – 2 to 3 times a week – for the sake of mind, body and spirit, and importantly, for the benefit of our relationship. (I also explained that I thought the other morning’s painful ejaculation was down to my prostate issues and recent abstinence from wanking.) And we agreed that if we could make the time and find the energy, more regular sex was indeed a virtuous circle.

We fell asleep, and when we woke a mere 4hrs later, I asked my Wife to tug me off, and this time She succeeded in covering Her hands with my jizz. Happy New Year!

You may think that all this might fill me with optimism, and to a degree it does. But I cannot help but think that we have been here before. This was pretty much how 2012 started, and as you know, Loyal Reader, that did not go well for my Wife and me. Last night’s fireworks were fantastic, it was good to communicate (not least when it came to talking about the infamous red underwear), and it was ball achingly good to finally see Her wear Her gift. But I am not going to let enthusiasm get the better of me. We are not fixed, by any means, but at least there is hope that we could be.

9 Responses to “Déjà vu?”

  1. Wish that most of your nights in 2013 will have such ‘splendid fireworks display’ !

  2. I have to say, she ( from your views) usually seems the stickler but you always stop feeling “in the mood when she does – its a pattern. In this post, she became a real person to me. It could be because I think that corset thong thing is so pretty – and she wore that for you and rode you twice and got you off. That doesn’t sound like the same wife. Anyway – from this – I think you guys were cute together but I’m just a reader. Jayne

    • I’m not sure what you mean by “stickler” (maybe lost in transatlantic translation, or predictive text?) But I think I see your point. And I agree, it most certainly is at odds with how I usually describe Her bedroom behaviour. The big difference to me, is on the rare occasions, like last night, that She became a sexual person.
      However, you’ve reminded me of something She said mid fuck: She thinks we should have make-up sex more often. And this possibly leads to one of my issues – after a fight, on some levels I don’t want to make up – I just want to be left alone. (No need to reach for your Freudian analysis hat, I can work that one out for myself!) Plenty of food for thought.

  3. I’m happy to hear the the conversation is going somewhere.And, of course, that you had an enjoyable start to your year. 😉

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