Hot Monogamy

Hot Monogamy

Passionate Marriage Series

By: Lucy St. Vincent

Copyright © 2013 by Lucy St.Vincent

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I’m married and I love sex: with my husband.
 
Most of the surveys I read say that once couples tie the knot, the romance is over and sex is indulged in, at best, once or twice a month.
 
I’m not exactly sure what makes us different, but Paul and I have been going at it the better part of thirty years and it just keeps getting better.

The first time Paul “bedded me” I was just a mere lass of nineteen and aside from the initial furtive groping which was slightly exciting albeit uncomfortable, the rest of it was a nightmare.
 
When he plunged into me, I nearly died I was so disappointed.
 

Even so, I really thought Paul was a great catch.
 
He was incredibly handsome, a hard worker and someone who seemed like a real keeper in spite of his inadequacies in the sex department.
 
I also realized, given what many of my girlfriends told me, that most guys of that age tended to be about the same: loose cannons who had no idea how to please their gals.
 

So I decided at an early age to get proactive about the whole thing.
 
I sure wasn’t about to marry this man if I wasn’t going to enjoy sex with him.
 
Back then, that’s kind of what it was all about: you got married so you could have sex whenever and wherever you wanted to instead of in the back seat of your brother’s car or on your parents’ bed when they were at church.
 
Marriage was supposed take away all those inconveniences rendering it much more comfortable and guilt-free.

So when Paul asked me to marry him shortly after we both started college, I said, “Listen, we’ve got to get something straight here.
 
I am not going to marry you until you can figure out how to pleasure me in at least one hundred different ways.”
 
And I meant it.
 

He had to find one hundred original ways to make me wet with wanting, and I kept a tally in a tattered old notebook.
 
It took him the better part of the year to figure out those hundred ways, but he was a motivated student, let me tell you.
 
I also made it clear that I had no intention of staying in the marriage if he wasn’t going to keep me satisfied.
 
At that time, that was pretty liberal thinking.
 
I didn’t care, though.
 
I’ve always known that I was put on this earth to be happy and as far as I can see, sex is one of the biggest contributors to happiness.
 
So there you go.

Paul and I are both retired now (we’re not spring chickens anymore, but we’re not old, either: we invested well), and our kids are out of the house.
 
Paul was an accountant, and accountants don’t have a reputation as being passionate people, but let me tell you, he saved his creativity for the bedroom.
 
I was a schoolteacher and if those kids knew what went on between closed doors and sometimes open ones, they’d never think of me in the same way again.

One of the biggest secrets to our ongoing success is that we are still turned on by each other.
 
We make an effort to stay fit and limber.
 
I go to yoga three times a week and Paul is a jogger and tennis player.
 
It’s after exercise that we often get especially hot.
 
Yesterday Paul got home from his daily three-mile jog, smelling up the house with his pheromones and sweat.
 
Just a whiff of that man can send me over the top.

“Paul,” I said, “why don’t you hop in the shower?
 
I’ll be with you in a minute.”

We have a lot of sex books and guides and dirty magazines so we are always getting new ideas about how to turn each other on.
 
We’ve gone way beyond Paul’s initial one hundred.

“Okay, Honey,” he said, and I could see his dick perk up in interest even from a distance.

I’ve always liked water as a natural lubricant.
 
A couple of years ago we had a big jacuzzi installed in our backyard so we could jazz things up with the water and the jets, and it sure has come in handy.
 
It’s been our most expensive sex toy to date, but certainly worth the money.
 
That’s another story.

While Paul was getting into the shower and lathering himself up, I went to the kitchen and got the green grapes out of the crisper.
 
Then I lubed up a bit with my vibrator, playing with myself just long enough to get wet and turned on.
 

Sometimes I like to prepare ahead of time, giving myself my own foreplay before having a quickie with Paul.
 
Sometimes guys want to skip the formalities and get straight to the point so to speak, and I certainly don’t mind turning my own self on once in a while.
 
After I felt the heat and my juices sluicing inside of me, and as my nipples elongated and my skin became red, I knew it was time for the next step.
 

I took the grapes and inserted them up my vagina.  It felt good sliding the cold ovals up there, one after the next.
 
I lingered with the first one for a moment, teasing my clitoris first, and then caching it inside.
 
All toll, I popped four green grapes up my pussy; by the last one I was so turned on, I was ready to finger myself to an orgasm right there.  I knew, however, that it was going to be a lot more exciting letting Paul suck them out of me.
 

I joined him in the shower, my body ripe and ready.
 
His penis was at a right angle to his body, and I could tell
he
had been getting himself ready for
me
.

“I’ve been waiting for so long, Babe.
 
What took you?”

“Oh, I had to put a few things away,” I said casually.
 
The water was hot and the glass door was steamy.
 
It felt wonderful.
 
I started with his hair.
 
I lathered shampoo and slowly and sensually began to massage his scalp with my fingernails.
 
He loved that.
 
I was holding off, trying to calm myself down from my intense foreplay.
 
It was his turn first.
 
Mine would come later.
 
My ass cheeks were pulsating in and out with desire, but restraint made it so much sweeter.
 

I pressed my tummy and breasts against his back so his ass was right at my crotch level and I began to scrub his chest with the soap, grabbing his nipples as I did so.
 
He was excited: they stood out like little push pins on his chest.
 
I massaged his chest for a long time and slowly worked my way down to his tummy and then to his penis.
 
All the while I was pressing my body against his back, growing more and more excited as my hands came closer to his dick.

I could feel the grapes inside of me, gently suspended in my fluid.
 
I clenched and unclenched my buttocks and ground my groin into his ass.
 
I wanted his mouth on my pussy in the worst way.

When I got to his penis, its rock hardness surprised me as it always does.
 
Even his testicles get hard, like golf balls.
 
I gently stroked and washed them with the soap, then began tugging a little more boisterously.
 
I took the showerhead off the nozzle and sprayed all the soap off his dick, using the strongest setting.
 
It really turns him on when I do that, especially when I aim it at his perineum, that area just between the root of the penis and the anus.
 
There is a powerhouse of nerves down there.
 
I love it when he does that to me, too.
 
(Or I do it to myself.)

When his cock was clean and glistening, I took the bath pillow and knelt and centered my mouth at his crotch level.
 
Then I began to suck while the hot water poured down over me, sensually beating my back and dripping down over my breasts.
 
Paul was bending forward and grabbing my breasts, tugging at my nipples and then scratching my back with his nails.
 
He did it hard and furiously and it felt divine.
 
I love to have my back scratched during sex.
 
It’s a real turn on for me.
 
 
I like a little roughness: a bit of pain.

I continued to suck his cock while fingering his balls, rolling them back and forth like Chinese medicine balls: slowly and gently.
 
When I sensed he was getting close to coming, I let go of his cock and took turns slipping his testicles in my mouth and sucking them.
 
By this time, Paul had both hands outstretched on either end of the shower stall to keep his balance, his head was swung back, and his eyes were closed.
 
I knew he was exquisitely close.
 

I could hardly wait for my turn to come.
 
Luckily, I knew how to speed things up and provide incredible pleasure at the same time.
 
I took my fist and put it between his shaft and his anus, pressing hard on the pressure point.
 
Then I plunged his cock into my mouth and began sucking hard, long sucks that reached to his root and then climbed back up and lingered on the head of his penis.
 
He was nearly there.
 
I felt a rush suddenly throb through his penis: then came the loud gasp and the spurt of warm, sensuous liquid flood my mouth.
 
Now I wanted to come.
 
I needed to come.
 
I was hot and wet and incredibly turned on.

Paul barely needed recovery time: he followed the same pattern as I had, starting with my hair.
 
He very gently began to lather my scalp in circular sensuous strokes.
 
He took his time, and in spite of how good it felt, I wanted him to make his way downward just a little quicker.
 
I was bucking like a horse.
 
I had waited too long already.
 
I wanted satisfaction now

“Slow down, Baby,” he said.
 
“There’s plenty of time.  Just relax and enjoy.”

He was right.
 
I knew he wasn’t going to give me a quickie.
 
Not today.
 
I surrendered to his strong hands that had now worked their way down to my neck and shoulders where he was kneading and massaging with a firm grip.
 
It felt so good.
 
Fortunately we had installed a massive hot water tank and the scalding water continued to pound down on us, the room completely steamed up and smelling of eucalyptus.
 
My shoulders refused to loosen despite Paul’s labile, experienced fingers because the sexual tension was filling my body, straining all my muscle fibers.