TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT
I recently joined a pen-pal site that was really more for e-mail letters rather than the old-fashioned writing of letters. It appeared to have more of a direction toward learning foreign languages than in social interaction but there was a little of each along with just a lot of people looking to chat with someone else regardless of gender or sexual orientation.
It was sort of a buffet-style of communication but seemed more fun than boredom. One of the “friends” that I made was a female stated to be in her forties and with a husband and several children at home. She was a lot of fun to talk to and we went into almost every subject imaginable with the exception of sexual matters which she had indicted was as “off-limits” as politics.
I was a bit surprised when out of the blue she broached the topic of Sodomy and that she was vehemently opposed to it on moral principle. I was somewhat at a loss to state my position either pro or con because I was under the impression she didn’t like to discuss such matters.
After a bit of beating around the bush, she admitted to me that despite her mature years and the fact of a happy marriage with a husband she loved and children she adored, she had taken a lover because in her words,
“The magic wasn’t there any longer in the bedroom.”
I wasn’t certain if I should express my sympathy or encourage her to do what made her happy. I think I told her that,
“You only live once and as long as nobody gets hurt, go for it.”
The conversation grew in scope and soon I had a picture of the “lover” who was close to half her age and in her words,
“He is hung like a horse!”
My previous picture of her sedately spreading her legs in ladylike fashion in dutiful obedience to her doting husband was replaced by a picture of her face down on the bed or the carpet taking this young lad’s cock in from behind in a most unladylike manner.
She eventually disclosed the fact that she was becoming concerned because her young lover had of late been only interested in plumbing the depths of her alternate entry point.
Mrs. X: “He was giving it to fair steady in my fanny and then he got on this other tangent of wanting to bugger me all the time.”
Me: “Well, a lot of the young men these days are quite hot in dishing out anal sex because of all the media attention to spicing up one’s sex life.”
Mrs. X: “I wouldn’t mind him spicing things up as long as he gave it to me nice and proper in my regular place using a condom like I told him was necessary.”
Me: “Young people these days tend to frown on things like condoms and he probably thinks doing it back there is a good way to drive away the “having a baby” fears from both of you.”
Mrs. X: “All of my husband’s male friends from work tell me that I have an interesting bum and that my husband is a lucky man to have me in bed with him at night. In all honesty, I like that sort of compliment because it makes me feel wanted deep inside but a fellow who will only pay attention to my rump is not my idea of a sensitive lover at all. I need a man to pay attention to my other bits as well.”
I have to admit at this point I was both laughing and experiencing tightness in my groin area that signaled my brain I was ready for sex.
Me: “I must agree that male admirers should be more diverse in their attentions but it is easy for high-spirited young men to fixate on the female hindquarters as their central area to seek pleasure and it does lend a sense of dirtiness to the entire business that appeals to their need for control.”
Mrs. X: “I know you are right because I also get that same tingle of excitement when he manages to get his entire package inside me back there and the stretching just drives me into these terrible orgasms that embarrass me no end.”
At this point I was looking at several photos of Mrs. X that she had been so kind to place on her profile page and I could tell from the curve of her buttocks why her younger male friend was easily drawn to constantly inserting his business between her luscious cheeks. I imagined how her eyes would soften as she looked over her shoulder at him when he was fully seated and she knew with absolute certainty he would spray her insides with his youthful spunk after he had satisfied his need to pound her bottom into complete submission.
Me: “Does your husband ever notice that you are in need of some special attention?”
Mrs. X: “He really is a good chap and he is ever so gentle in such matters but lately I seem to be wanting something on the rough side even if it means a bruise or two just as long as I manage to hit the high notes when the moment comes.”
Me: “I know you didn’t want to talk about sex but I have to admit I like to do a bit of anal every now and then just to keep my wife on her toes.”
Mrs. X: “But I bet you don’t stick it up there every night like clockwork and even spank her to show her who is in control.”
I was beginning to look over my shoulder to make certain my spouse was still in the study doing her knitting or whatever she did when I was on the computer.
Me: “I think the trick is to do what makes both partners happy and not to try to control things all the time.”
Mrs. X: “I don’t mind when he spanks me hard but I don’t like the cane or the belt because it leaves marks and I have to hide my legs from my husband in the bedroom. He is going to notice I am covering up my skin one night and then start asking me a bunch of embarrassing questions.”
Me: “Just as a suggestion, ask him to spank your bottom with a paddle with your pants up and then any time after that you can always claim it was his paddle that did the trick.”
Mrs. X: “That is a marvelous idea and I will implement it at once.”
Me: “If I were you, I would tell the young lad to use a lot of lubrication because that is the best way to keep everything running smoothly and make things more pleasurable to you. After all, you should be enjoying the excursions up your backside as well.”
Mrs. X: “That was exactly my thought but I was trying to keep things as spontaneous as possible. It is just that once he has me bending over and my knickers are down, there is really not much I can do to change the outcome. Am I doing something wrong?”
Me: “I would recommend practicing with either a banana or cucumber to loosen your sphincter up a bit before each session. Be sure to use a lot of lubricant and try to watch in a mirror to make certain you have a proper angle.”
Mrs. X: “That would be hard to do because I don’t have any big mirrors. Would it be possible for me to face my bum to the laptop cam and you can tell me if I am doing it properly?”
If ever there was a loaded question, that was certainly it. I fought to keep the eagerness out of my voice as I nonchalantly replied in my calmest tone possible,
Me: “Certainly, you may do so. Try to use one hand to spread your buttocks to the side and I can get a good angle on your brown eye. Then, when I say, now, simply push the lubrication inside and grease things up real nice. You want to start with a smaller cucumber first to let your sphincter adjust to the stretching. I will tell you when to go slower or to speed up depending on how your anus is reacting to the entry.”
I watched everything on the cam and recorded it for posterity in the event we needed more training exercises. Mrs. X was quite dedicated to the acquiring of anal skills and she diligently followed all my instructions like an obedient student. I suspected at this rate I would be running up to my wife’s bedroom begging for any sort of relief not matter how tired she was or what she had going the next day. It was totally wrong of me to be sure but in such circumstances, I could not resist the opportunity to guide Mrs. X in all of the finer details of anal coupling. She promised to take notes and give me a full report in the morning on the progress she had made with her vigorous young lover and if she had been able to divert his attention to her proper entryway.
My wife was reading a book about the dangers of breastfeeding and the benefits of organic milk which I thought was strange because we didn’t have any small children and were not planning add any in the future. I pretended I was having a cramp in my leg and got her to help me remove my pajama bottoms and try to massage it out. Her pretty rump was facing toward me and I innocently started to rub her cheeks with gentle disregard but making sure my fingers roamed down to the danger zone around her sensitive targets. After several minutes of that, she relented and pulled down her bottoms as well and I started to massage her in earnest until she was panting with the need for sex.
I have to state for purposes of full disclosure that during the seven years of marriage, my spouse and I had engaged in anal sex on only two occasions. The first was on the honeymoon in the Fiji Islands and she yelled so loud that the hotel security came expecting to see some sort of scene of murder or mutilation. The second was about two years prior when she was so drunk from celebrating her new promotion to head manager that it was simple to place her face down and stretch her reluctant sphincter to the maximum limit possible. She was not quite aware of the circumstances but her body reacted with the most delicious and sensuous writhing motions and she mumbled gibberish throughout but with a distinctly encouraging tone of voice. The next morning she looked at me suspiciously but no mention was made of her anal experience and I kept my mouth shut thinking it was the better part of valor.
Under normal circumstances, I was too familiar with my wife’s proclivities to even suggest the possibility of a rear insertion but since she was in the perfect position and her brown eye was blinking out a signal of “proceed at your own risk”, I mounted her hesitantly making certain my cock was rubbing on her usual entryway and I determined she was already wet from the instigation of the massage.
Slowly, I allowed my cock to move to the rear and start to probe in the area around her tightly clutched star and she sleepily murmured.
“Please, dear, you know I am sensitive back there.”
Fortunately, I had used plenty of oil in the massage to make it easy to gain a small purchase in her pucker area and she just sighed in resignation and relaxed enough for me to slip my head inside to establish a small beachhead inside without much difficulty. I decided to take it easy and just kept up the pressure without attempting any further movement forward allowing her to wiggle around and complain that,
“It’s much too big, dear, and besides it is a sin to do this kind of thing.”
I kept silent not wanting to disturb the level of success that I had already secured. I pictured in my mind that the beautiful round heart-shaped backside underneath me belonged to none other than Mrs. X and it was time for her to receive my full insertion and allow me to drain my demanding shaft inside her secret core of pleasure. I grabbed hold of my wife’s familiar hips and she opened up for me like a budding flower seeking the strength of the sun. It was like time had frozen for both of us as I hit bottom deep inside. Then, she exploded into wild bucking movements yelling in an unladylike manner in a way that she seldom ever expressed.
I had no other choice than to hold on for dear life and give her my load in copious spurts that flooded both of us and the sheets as well. After that we sank down onto the mattress and fell asleep still joined and during the night I shrank back to normal size and fell out but she kept her pretty behind in close to my groin spooning me like a kitten that had gotten the cream.
Tomorrow I would hear Mrs. X’s report in full detail and I wondered what direction her revelations would take and how that might induce me to test out some new techniques on my busy but agreeable spouse.