Having a hug with my Wife was odd.
Initiating a kiss as She left for work was odd.
Putting my wedding ring on for the first time in the best part of a decade was … yes, you guessed it, Dear Reader … odd.
But these things paled into insignificance.

Waking up horny wasn’t odd at all. Not least as I’d gone to bed wearing two ball stretchers. An erection so turgid it almost aches is entirely to be expected in the circumstances. And there was nothing remotely odd about the fact that my fist was sliding up and down my rigid member almost as soon as I was conscious. But the fact that I was fantasising about fucking my Wife was very odd indeed.

I dream about sex regularly. If I wake in the middle of a dream, there’s probably a 90+% chance that sex features heavily in it. It’s not uncommon for my Wife to feature in my sex dreams too, but invariably over the last few years Her presence has been accompanied with conflict or stress of some kind. And if I have imagined my Wife while tossing myself off, I have only entertained mental images of Her going down on me.

So to find myself imagining Her buckling on a strap-on, or padlocking my CB6000S, or announcing on a forest walk that She is wearing no knickers so I can fuck Her against a tree, or jerking me off wearing satin opera gloves, or playing with my weighted balls, or going to a rubberists club night, or watching porn together whilst jerking each other off, or when She asks about my day telling Her I’ve had my balls waxed and having Her inspect them, or photographing and then drawing Her fingers buried in Her cunt … these were extremely odd thoughts to be wanking to.

And having woken at 5am, I had plenty of time to wank to all of them before staining the sheets in homage to Her inspiration.

Of course, these things will most likely never feature outside of my head. Well, maybe the satin opera gloves, but the rest? I just can’t see my Wife being up for most of these wetting dreams. That said, I am determined that at some point in the not too distant future, We will discuss sex at length with Dr Ruth and I suspect she would have significant sympathy with the benefits of the lie back and think of England approach. Indeed, she related how she regularly tolerates her husband’s love of horse racing, accompanying him to the racecourse, even though she finds it tiresome: her motivation being a) to accommodate his passions, giving him validation and b) he is in turn more likely to accommodate her’s. And I’d like to think Dr Ruth has a similar outlook on indulging your partner’s lust for kinky fuckery if you are more disposed to abstract impressionist exhibitions than they are.

It’s not impossible that one or two of my kinks might get outed, but it would be a truly odd turn of events that would see my Wife knelt behind me, dressed in latex, banging my hole with a Share XL while my erection strained at its plastic prison.

3 Responses to “Odd”

  1. I wish I had sex dreams… damn.

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