I know I said I wouldn’t but … Pt. 12

Day 5279
It was hard work fucking Her this morning. She initiated as soon as I was awake, but whilst She never said No, there were body shifts that said Not there. And when my hands pressed hard against Her, it wasn’t really having the same effect as Day 5277.
Once She was on my dick, She came pretty easily, and She came hard. And then She quickly dismounted. I could have happily gone on fucking Her, or rather fucking me – Her pussy had still been tight when She pulled me out, and if I could have given myself a good pounding with Her cunt, I might have cum even with the condom on.
As She pulled the condom off, She started to stroke my flagging erection. Neither the spirit nor the flesh were that interested in getting tossed off, and after a minute or so I stopped Her.
Her: No? Or maybe later?
Me: I don’t know.
Her: You ok?
Me: Yeah, I’m fine.
Apparently I sighed, but not particular consciously.
Her: I think I was hard work this morning.
Me: You came pretty hard, so that’s ok.
Her: What about you?
Me: I’m fine.
She reached down and started searching my cock for hardness, but I put a hand down to stop Her again. I really didn’t care. Not in an aggressive way. Not even in an indifferent way. I just didn’t care about sex.
We snuggled for a while.
Me: I need to get a cup of tea.
Boy George once infamously said he’d rather have a cup of tea than sex. Sometimes I share that feeling.
Me: Can I get you anything or are you going to snooze?
Her: No, I don’t need anything, thanks.
I kissed Her, pulled a pair of jeans on, folded my semi into the fly, had to readjust it a couple of times to get remotely comfortable, and went downstairs for a cup of tea.
12 hrs later …
We’d had a row. Not the sort where anyone shouted or got anything off their chest. Just the sort that festers.
And unlike our resolution of Day 5236, there was no chance of make-up sex. Because we don’t do that any more.

Day 5281
I wanted to fuck Her tonight. I really wanted to fuck Her.
As I brushed my teeth, I flicked though some porn on my smartphone to give myself a hard-on. So it would be obvious I wanted to fuck Her when I undresses for bed. But between a toothbrush in one hand, a phone in the other, and my cock fighting an uncomfortable battle with the waistband of my underwear, I was never going to say engorged by the time I joined Her in bed.
By the time I was naked, my cock was utterly and depressingly relaxed.
She pulled the duvet back for me to get into bed. That was unusual. Very unusual.
No sooner was I under the covers and the light off than She moved for me to wrap an arm around Her. So quickly, that was unusual.
Her hand moved to my hip. Her intentions were unmistakable by this stage.
Learning from our last couple of fucks, I stroked Her firmly, but not too hard, paying attention to Her reactions and their every detail. She responded almost perfectly. Possibly a little slower than I expected, but long before She slid onto my reinvigorated tool, if I subtly wafted the duvet as I stroked Her arse, the sweetest scent of Her juices filled my nostrils and I wanted to fuck Her even more.
I fucked Her slowly.
Just the first inch or so of Her canal. Gentle, slow strokes. Opening Her, then allowing Her to close as my helmet withdrew from Her. Then long, slow and deep. Penetrating Her to my hilt. Forcing Her thighs up and apart. Grinding up against Her swollen lips and mound. Inhaling the warm fragrance of Her pleasure.
As Her breathing deepened an faltered, I pulled back out.
Just the first inch. Slow strokes. Opening and closing. Then deep, deliberate thrusts again. Driving Her back up Her mountain. And each time She neared Her summit, I backed off again.
She reached for my balls. Toying with them and stroking my shaft as it withdrew, slick with Her lubricant. (This was unusual at this stage too. Usually She doesn’t play with my junk like this until She has cum and She wants me to.)
I kept fucking Her. Shallow. Deep. Shallow. Deep.
And then She came. As Her orgasm built, She buried Her face in my neck, and held on tight as I kept fucking her. Just deep now. Strong, purposeful invasions of Her pussy. Filling Her with all that I have.
And as She reached the point when it is always obvious She has cum, She did not relax. She just kept cumming. So I kept fucking. And still She kept cumming. More intensely that I have witnessed in a very long time. Her breathing turned to grunts as I kept fucking Her. Her tension was remarkable, Her snatch spasmed repeatedly around my weapon [That’s not a word I think I’ve ever used for my penis before. It’s not one I feel particularly comfortable with usually. But on this occasion it feels entirely appropriate, and pleasingly so.] and She didn’t seem to stop cumming.
Eventually She could take no more, and Her hand moved to stop me fucking Her. And there we lay. Her body seemed paralysed with a mixture of tension and release. I can’t remember seeing Her cum so hard more than once, maybe twice before. And even then, maybe not so much. Nor can I remember Her staying so tightly wrapped around me after She has cum.
When She did pull my still rigid pole from Her quim, She immediately pulled off the empty condom. That was it, I thought. But straight away She was knelt between my thighs. One hand stroking tightly at my shaft, the fingers of the other running races around my balls and taint, all still slick with Her juices. It felt fantastic. And I put a hand to Hers to stop Her, puling Her up to hug, chest to chest. Cheek to cheek.
We lay there wrapped around eachother. Each time She inhaled and Her belly pressed against my turgid, eager cock, it twitched back in response.
I wanted to fuck Her.
She moved back down, wrapping Her fingers around me and pulled me towards my own orgasm. It was the best a wank has felt for a very long time. And I stopped Her again.
Her: No? Or not now?
Me: No. I don’t want a hand job.
Her. Sometimes I don’t understand what you do want.
The conversation paused as I mustered my thoughts from amidst the endorphic haze.
Me: If we both keep our hands off my dick, maybe I can cum in your pussy.
Her: Are we talking short, medium, or long term?
Me: Medium to long, I don’t know.
Her: I don’t think you’re going to sleep if I leave you like this.
Me: I’ll be fine.
I didn’t expect to sleep particularly well, but at this stage, the thing I want most from fucking my Wife is to cum in Her cunt.
I pulled Her back into a hug.
Eventually She rolled away and into sleep, whilst Her prediction for my rest was more accurate than my lie, and my erection and thoughts of the pleasure of Her body kept me away much of the night.

12 Responses to “I know I said I wouldn’t but … Pt. 12”

  1. corsetandstockings Says:

    As I read this I was thinking how far you’ve come (pun intended) given that not long ago you weren’t having sex at all – you may not have the sex life you crave but this sounds pretty good?

  2. I am sorry that you had a hard time resting, but to know that you got her to that stage, that she let you get her to that stage… That feels like a big victory already.
    I am not sure what you expect from not coming at all, hoping it’s not something that will prevent you from keeping enjoying this new found sex life. I know you want to come in her, and are having trouble doing so with a condom on. I wonder why you don’t tell her that if she keeps doing this or that, then you feel like you could and you really would like it.
    Because as it is, she doesn’t seem to have realised what it is that works for you, and if you don’t tell her, she’s unlikely to, I think.
    Maybe she thinks “hand job does the trick, so I’ll dismount as quickly as I can to take care of him”, thinking this is what you want. When in truth, what would be more satisfying to you would be for her to stay there, and allow you to keep fucking her even after she’s come, she’s done.
    To keep fucking for you, and not for her any more.
    But if you don’t tell her, it’s not likely to change, is it?

    I’m sorry your sex life feels like so much hard work. But I’m happy to see that you have one again.

    • My goal is not to not cum, but rather to not wank … or get wanked. My theory is that my dick has become tuned in to hands – there are different feedback loops compared to fucking and I’m hoping to reset my triggers. (Does that make sense?)
      Getting Her to cum hard is great and does indeed feel like a victory, but there are battles still to be fought – such as with fatigue and libido.
      To be honest I can’t remember where you are in the story. (I’ve been trying to publish days without letting posts get too long, so there is more of significance yet to come.) She is definitely aware of the issue, and it has definitely been discussed. There are steps forward, and steps back.

    • I do understand, but I was merely pointing to the fact that if your wife was not coming from intercourse, you’d be offering her other options. So once in a while… maybe just indulge?

      Sorry to read that there have been setbacks. I’m looking forward to reading the sequels.

    • I understand your point, and yes, once in a while would be fine. But since we started using condoms I’ve come in Her pussy once. Every other orgasm I’ve had in the last year has been in a fist. That’s a cycle that We both want broken, even if we are not similarly motivated.

    • I completely understand. And wish you all the best in that endeavour!

  3. I know how hard it is to tell her what you want/need from her, but you have to find a way to say it. Have a couple of glasses (bottles?) of wine and tell her. From the outside, it appears that she’s definitely trying. Tell her what she can do to make it better for you. I can tell you from experience, once I finally told my husband what I wanted and needed and he started trying to give that to me, my libido and our sex life improved dramatically.

    • Unfortunately I don’t think alcohol will help. I’d be largely drinking on my own, and that never feels conducive to sex or talk of it. I think you’re right, She is trying, and possibly from Her point of view She is trying hard.
      She’s getting what She needs, both in terms or quantity and (apparently) quality. I’m not convinced it’s doing much for Her libido, and unless I can depress my own, that is where we come unstuck.
      (I know this all sounds quite negative. There are more recent events to justify muted optimism.)

    • I really do understand. I’ve actually been on her and you in my marriage. Neither is a good place to be. For me, I had to get drunk so that I could tell my husband some of my darker fantasies. Even though things were so much better than a couple of years ago, I just couldn’t get it out. Obviously that means I haven’t mastered the art of marital communication. LOL

      I don’t think you’re negative. I think you’re cautious and guarded and I don’t blame you at all. Out of curiosity, how far behind are the your posts vs. the actual date?

    • If I’ve got my maths right I’m just short of 3wks ahead of my posts.

      Something my eye is always attracted to is difference:
      If you get drunk you relax. My Wife won’t get drunk.
      You have darker fantasies. I genuinely doubt my Wife has sexual fantasies (or any other kind).
      A similarity is marital communication, or the lack of it.
      Cautious and guarded – I’ll take that. More than one of my Dear Readers has said I come across as aggressive, so guarded is good. 🙂

    • My husband flat out says he has no fantasies. None. It makes it really difficult to share mine (vanilla or kinky) if he’s not also sharing. I’m getting better at initiating sex and taking the lead with what I want, but that leads to more rejection than I would like. It depends on the day how I cope with that.

    • I can empathise with that, and rarely, if ever, cope well with the rejection. That’s one of the dysfunctions I bring to the party.

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