The next morning, the light of the rising sun woke Rhonda up from a very satisfying sleep. She had no recollection of the dreams she had had the previous night, only the feeling that she had been chased by something she couldn’t escape.
She turned to Pat, who was still sleeping soundly. She felt a deep love for the man she had spent the last seven years of her life with. They had been through so much together, good and bad, and had come out of it strong and more in love than ever. There was her man.
As she looked at him, the events of the previous day started flashing through her mind, like a film appearing in glitches and moments. As she thought of their day of pooling and boozing, she felt a heat begin to build in her pelvis. It wasn’t all pleasure, though, something burned in the sensation. The acid of guilt. But why guilt?
Then the last events of the day played out: The spying game; Seeing Tim masturbating; His huge, impossible dick; Her shame; Her and Pat’s intense sex; Pat whispering taboo things into her ear.
As hot as the sex had felt the previous night, in the clear light of day, the thought of it made Rhonda feel uncomfortable. As though trying to shake off the memory, she stood up from the bed, wrapped herself in a housecoat and headed downstairs to the kitchen.
She began preparing a pour-over for herself and brought her full attention to weighing the coffee beans. She examined every bean and wanted the weight to be exact down to the decimal. She knew that this overly focused state was a means to avoid thinking about last night. That was stupid. She was an adult after all and it was just sex. What was she avoiding?
She took a deep breath, steadied herself with her hands on the kitchen island, and thought through the sex she had had with Pat the previous day. The feeling of his dick inside her, how much she wanted to feel him and his manhood, how she had pressed him into her to feel her clitoris rub against him, and the spark of sensation that had created.
And somehow, things had gotten more heated than that. She felt herself becoming wet as she heard the water come to boil in the nearby kettle. Her fingers reflexively moved down her body and into her underwear, then past her outer lips. She pressed into herself to wet her fingers and began to rub her clitoris. She remembered Pat’s expression, how intense he looked, the veins in his neck defined in the effort he was spending, and the way his lips squeezed together as he thrust.
She felt the heat of an orgasm begin to build as she thought of the passionate way they kissed. The feeling of his penis reaching inside of her, ready to explode. And then, the words Pat whispered into her ear reverberated in her mind as though she heard them anew.
Did seeing his huge dick turn you on? Did you like seeing him stroke himself? Did you wonder how it would feel to hold a dick that size in your hands?
Her whole body felt hot now. The pleasure was spreading. But there had been something else, something even more exciting, more taboo… The words came back to her suddenly and, for some reason, with an image. In the peak of her arousal, Rhonda saw Tim, her neighbor, masturbating so vigorously it seemed desperate, pathetic even. And in his hand, that huge penis. Are you imagining his dick was inside of you right now? Coming inside of you?
She was there, a huge orgasm ready to erupt through her body with another rub of the finger. Her body wanted this, she could almost feel it begging: Please? Can I have this now, please? But something in her mind shut it down. No. It was wrong. She didn’t want to have an orgasm thinking of their awkward neighbor masturbating in his hot tub.
Some psychological mechanism stopped her orgasm and hid it away. She tried thinking of the sex with Pat, its intensity, his body on top of hers, but she couldn’t get back to the feeling. She was forcing things and as wet as she had been a few moments earlier, she now felt her loins reject the idea of sexual pleasure.
The acid of guilt reappeared in her gut. She knew she’d have to talk about it with Pat. Rhonda was not someone who needed to look at other men nor to feel other men desire her in order to feel sexy and good about herself. She just needed one man, and that man was Pat. That was that.
As she was pouring the hot water into the V60 the house creaked, announcing her man was up. After a little more creaking, she saw him appear on the stairs, sporting a pair of x-men boxers and a housecoat.
He rubbed his eyes and greeted her with a “hey, sexy.” Something about that mundane moment brought tears to Rhonda’s eyes. When Pat noticed, he went to her quickly and took her in his arms. He knew this wasn’t the time for it, but like an idiot he couldn’t help but get turned out by Rhonda’s breasts. The way they were on the brink of falling out of her housecoat, pushing apart the fabric, was incredibly erotic. There will be time for that later, dummy. Focus.
It was a testament to the strength ataşehir escort of their relationship that Rhonda opened up honestly about what she was feeling. About how conflicted she felt about the sex they had had. That it had been incredibly hot but had left her with something bitter inside.
Hearing her say these things made Pat feel guilty. He loved Rhonda with everything he had, and had made a promise to himself when they got married that he would do whatever it took to support her and lift her up in life. He felt guilty that he had put her in this position for the sake of his own arousal. Although none of it had been planned and the words had seemed to appear in the moment, he felt bad that he hadn’t foreseen how the experience would ultimately make her feel.
He opened his mouth and apologized just as she did the same, with the result being them talking over each other. They both stopped to let the other speak, then laughed at the awkward pause. They laughed a bit harder than the moment required, but it felt good to release the tension.
“I love you so much, Rhonda. Can we put yesterday behind us and move on, and let’s just say no more of the spying game?”
Rhonda nodded her approval and they hugged. It was the type of hug that usually led to love-making, but something about the nature of what they had just discussed made getting physical not quite right at that moment.
Delicious coffee and a hearty breakfast chased the foulness out of the air and they ended up having a wonderful day. Later that afternoon, they found themselves frolicking around their bedroom, and before they knew it they were naked and in bed.
Pat took his time to caress and kiss Rhonda’s body. He massaged her calves and thighs, the muscles along her spine. As he hungrily kissed her breasts, one of his hands massaged her neck as the other began exploring her vulva.
Rhonda let herself bask in the pleasure of being caressed, and massaged Pat’s scalp in response, tugging gently at his hair. She started pushing his head down towards her loins, hinting at what she wanted next. They shared a quick, conspiratorial smile and he happily moved downwards. Pat explored her inner thighs with his lips and tongue, knowing how she enjoyed being teased. When his tongue reached her outer lips, the tingling pleasure made her arch her spine.
The movement brought Rhonda back to the previous night, to when she arched her spine as he whispered into her ear. Then the image of Tim masturbating. Then the image of Pat, excited and coming. She felt herself become more aroused. She opened her eyes to rid herself of the mental images and looked down. Pat smiled at her with his eyes as his tongue caressed her clitoris.
She exhaled and took in the sight. This was going to be OK. They’d get through this. She didn’t have to feel bad about it. She closed her eyes again and the only thing that filled her mind in the next few moments was the sublime sensation of her husband pleasuring her vagina.
Her orgasm came slowly, almost like a tide. It rippled through her quietly, feeling out the territory of her body, then ebbed away, then came back stronger than ever, reaching every nook and cranny, finger tip, and cell: “Oh, Oh, OK! That’s nice, OOOOooooooo, Baby. Oh, yes. Oh, Yes.”
She couldn’t stop herself saying ‘oh, yes’ for some reason. Pat smiled, happy with the result and more than a little proud about his role in it. He moved up the bed to lie by her side. He let one of his hands rest on her ribs underneath a giggling breast as he watched his wife writhe in satisfaction.
They kissed and she tasted her wetness on his lips. After a few moments, he brought the head of his penis up to the entrance of her vagina, waiting for permission to make sure she was ready. She nodded and turned onto her side, her back to him, and pressed her butt into his pelvis. His right hand reached for her left breast and squeezed her into him. Mine the action seemed to say as he pushed inside of her.
Rhonda knew it was unlikely she would come again, so she let herself enjoy the sex without expectation. She decided to find little ways to turn Pat on, almost making a game of how fast she could make him climax.
She turned her head towards him and gave him what she liked to think of as “the virgin stare,” as though what they were doing was something very naughty. Pat responded by thrusting into her faster and kissing her deeply.
The sex felt amazing. Wanting to add a cherry on top for her man, she bit her lower lip, keeping the innocent stare and said: “Please don’t pull out, baby. I want to feel you come inside of me.” His thrusting was so strong and deep that she couldn’t help herself from moaning in response.
She felt Pat push into her firmly, grunt, and grab her by the hips as he emptied himself inside her. He grunted his satisfaction a little more and gave a few firm, post-climatic thrusts into her for good measure.
After a few moments in that position, they exchanged kadıköy escort a smile and some loving kisses before cuddling and basking in the afterglow of love-making.
“Maybe we should start every Sunday with a good cry,” said Pat.
“And lots of coffee,” completed Rhonda. They both laughed.
It Came From The Farmer’s Market
A month and half later, Rhonda found herself remembering that steamy afternoon of lovemaking. Over the past six weeks, she and Pat had really cooled off sexually and she couldn’t figure out why.
It’s not that infrequent sex was bad, or that she needed the sex to feel loved. It was just unusual for them. Ever since they had begun dating, Rhonda and Pat had been frequent lovers. They had had all kinds of sex and enjoyed exploration: Fast, slow, rough, tender, some mild role-play, and even one hilarious weekend of failed attempts at rope bondage. They had kept things fresh and fun and the most regular thing about them as a sexual couple was the frequency with which they enjoyed each other in the bedroom.
She couldn’t help but feel some concern that their sexual rhythm had slowed down considerably. She could count on one hand the number of times they had had sex in the past six weeks. Not even getting married and settling down had caused a period of slowdown like this in.
She felt a little bad measuring their relationship this way. Especially since the last six weeks had been incredibly loving and rewarding. It almost felt like a second Honeymoon, with both of them paying special attention to each other in small and meaningful ways. Rhonda knew she was overthinking things and was just feeling horny. It was that time of month for her when sex was more of a visceral need than an emotional one.
There was something that kept bringing her mind back to that weekend from six weeks ago. A nagging thought that throbbed like a splinter: It had been the first time that they had regulated how they made love. That had to be it. They had made a rule, created a limitation for themselves in what kind of pleasure was allowed. At other times, when they decided that something wasn’t for them, it was because it hadn’t been pleasurable. Or that doing it once was enough.
Thinking back to that day around the pool, the flirty atmosphere, the alcohol and the peeping had led to some of the most intense, primal, and satisfying sex they had ever had together. Rhonda knew that making a rule that forbade them from feeling something that had brought them each so much pleasure was the source of their dry spell. Thankfully, it was Friday. She decided on the spot that this would be the weekend to rediscover their sex drive. Fuck taboos, they would make this work.
When Pat arrived, he entered the house bowing apologetically in a comedic, theatrical way. His boss needed him to travel over the weekend to placate one of their most important clients. She fully supported him and knew this was part of his job, but couldn’t help shooting a few eye daggers his way.
He placed the Whole Foods bag he was carrying on the kitchen island and kneeled by her side, his hands placed together in prayer.
“Please forgive me, my sweet,” he said.
“Pat,” she threw back at him with some half-mock, half-real heat in her voice, “I’m horny as heck right now. Your wife wants some D.I.C.K.”
Pat turned his eyes towards Rhonda’s pelvis. “Rhonda’s vagina, please forgive me. I promise you, Rhonda’s vagina, that I will return promptly and devastate you in an appropriate way, making Rhonda’s friends and work colleagues wonder at why her walk is so wobbly.”
Rhonda laughed. The man could joke himself out of a tough spot, you could give him that. He stood up and kissed her and said he actually had to leave for the airport now, but would be back on Sunday morning. She kissed him back with passion and offered: “Quickie?”
“I’m so sorry, babe. I want it too. How about we make up for it with a Sunday-fun-day?” said Pat.
“Deal,” she kissed him. “Now hurry up or you won’t make your flight!”
Pat hustled to put his travel luggage together and sped out the door after kissing her passionately one more time. The first thing her mind went to when the door closed was her dildo upstairs. That’s a definite yes, she thought, but it could wait until after dinner and a nice glass of red.
She had been preparing some steaks and greens and, although the steak was more of a Pat thing, she was feeling it and decided to go through with the plan. She turned on the stove-top and took one of the massive, dry-rubbed T-bones out from the fridge.
She began putting a salad together and her mind once again jumped to her dildo. She could feel her loins pleading with her. Just a lil’ one, a quickie, I promise. She shook her head at herself: Patience patience. Her vagina nonetheless got a little wet from arousal, as though admonishing Rhonda for her discipline: See what you’re missing out on?
She laughed at herself and her little inner bostancı escort bayan dialogue and began emptying out the Whole Foods bag to find something fresh for her salad. The bag was full of delicious veggies. She had emptied most of it when she reached for something that felt stuck at the bottom. She pulled a little harder but what was in there was big and didn’t want to come out.
Whatever the mystery veggie was, her fingers weren’t long enough to wrap around it completely. Girthy. She felt heat in her loins. Oh great, I’m getting turned on by vegetables now?
What she got out of the bag had to be the largest cucumber she had ever seen. She held it with both hands and stared at it. It felt cool to the touch and hard. She put it down on the counter and, with her hand around it and seen from that angle, she thought of Tim, bent over his dick in the Jacuzzi.
She had intentionally been avoiding her neighbor for the past few weeks to rid herself of that image. Rhonda took a deep breath to clear her mind. The cleanse worked and when she opened her eyes, they panned back to the enormous vegetable. She let her mind roam over it, its tiny bumps and ridges, its nuances in color. The heat was growing in her pelvis and she could feel herself getting wet. You know, a cucumber isn’t going to break your wedding vows.
Incredibly, her mind found no fault in that logic and, after closing the stove-top, Rhonda grabbed the cucumber and brought it with her to the living room. She shook her skirt off, removed her panties, and brought her fingers down to explore her inner lips. I’m so wet… I really need this.
She started finger painting her clitoris and took the cucumber in her other hand. What the hell do I do with this now? It was more of a challenge than a question, and a flood of possibilities swept through her mind.
As badly as she wanted the release of an orgasm, part of her wanted to try a few things first. She ran back to the kitchen to grab her phone and loaded up the camera app as she returned to the living room. She removed her shirt and took a very booby selfie of herself to tease Pat with later.
She kneeled on the living room’s fake, polar-bear skin carpet, and took the cucumber in one hand as the other returned to her loins. Masturbating felt amazing and just holding the giant vegetable added some forbidden ingredient to the mix. She could feel its bumpy surface and began to explore it as though it were a penis. Part of her couldn’t completely shake of the self-shaming thought of I can’t believe I’m doing this, but the feeling also somehow ramped up her hornyness. Soon, any idea of stopping was completely gone. All that mattered now was sexual release.
At first she lifted it and felt its weight. She could feel how firm the shaft felt, every little bump along its surface. She removed her bra and placed the cucumber between her breasts, taking another selfie. Looking at the photo made her flush. Her triple Ds covered a lot of the cucumber, but somehow it still looked massive. She couldn’t believe how wet she felt as she brought the tip of the cucumber to her mouth. He’ll never forgive himself for missing this. She smiled and put the phone away.
She closed her eyes and let her lips touch the vegetable. The touch triggered something in her and memories of that romp with Pat flooded her mind. Pat between her legs, whispering naughty things. Her pleasure. And then, the image of Tim bent over his giant penis materialized. Incredibly, she didn’t shoo it away. It felt amazingly clear, just like the day she first saw it. A small part of her wondered if she should stop, but it was too late. Something was different with the memory… Tim wasn’t masturbating anymore; She was there with him. He was looking down at Rhonda, pushing her onto his huge dick, which she could feel in her mouth…
An orgasm so powerful it was almost painful ripped through her. She moaned low and long as the spasms of pleasure rippled across her limbs.
When Rhonda could walk again, she grabbed the cucumber and ran up to the bedroom.
She felt unleashed. She hopped on the bed, lied on her back, and spread her legs, bringing her knees close to her shoulders. She imagined she was displaying herself to the cucumber. She released one of her legs, took the vegetable and laid it between her breasts so she could suck on its tip. It felt heavy on her body and the heft made her even more exited.
Rhonda sucked and stroked the vegetable as she masturbated furiously, filling the room with her moans. She moaned louder. Spurring herself on, she started mimicking things she had seen in porn. Absurdly, she started talking to the cucumber: “You’re so fucking big. Oh my god, I want you inside of me.”
She could feel an orgasm building. She grabbed the vegetable and began rubbing the tip against her outer lips as her other hand pleasured her clitoris. “You’re so big, baby. You’re so big. I feel you!”
She pressed the vegetable hard against herself as she felt a second, incredible orgasm erupt. With every wave of pleasure, she squeezed the vegetable against her sex, including it in the sensation and rubbing its cool surface against her vulva. When the pleasure faded, she felt blissfully exhausted and began to pass out.