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We have always been frank about masturbation.

Pleasing each other’s bits has been a part of our foreplay from the beginning and when we began opening the doors of our sexual histories, Fiona was unapologetic explaining her need to please herself several times a week, even more frequently when we are having lots of sex.

Early in our marriage I came home unexpectedly to find her moaning with her fingers between her legs. After listening at the door for a few minutes I entered the bedroom and finished her orgasm with the shortest, perhaps most intense fuck we have ever had. Since then, I have overheard her from time to time without intruding, but have always noticed that our lovemaking is particularly intense after she has been with herself earlier in the day. In fact, on several occasions when headed out for the day, I have invited her to make me happy that night by making herself happy that afternoon.

It was inevitable then that when an unexpectedly difficult professional transition kept me away from home during the week for several months, each of us would take things into our own hands until the weekends. Surprisingly for our rafter shaking history of lovemaking, our reunion sex has been remarkably tender. In fact, this period of separation has caused me to reflect on the richness of our marriage and to appreciate her even more than I did before.

The coming home sex largely has been gentle, long and deep, a metaphor for our greater life together, none of which is to say that we have not had window-rattling weekends, because we have, our passion burning hotter than ever after 20 years of marriage.

Last fall I had been through a particularly tiring week and spent Sunday afternoon napping in our bed, alternating between reading a book and dreaming of making love to Fiona later that evening. I finally awoke around 5 pm refreshed but with a massive erection, the product of hours of somnolent fantasies about my wife. I called out to her but there was no answer. Her parking spot outside was vacant so I texted her.

She replied instantly: “You are finally awake. What’s up?”

My reply was immediate: “I suspect you know what is up. And what it needs.”

“I Esenyurt escort bayan have been hanging around all day waiting for you. Now I have errands to run. I’ll be home shortly. In the meantime, find something constructive to do.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” I texted.

Fiona replied: “Well, you sound up for a challenge.”

I sighed, and collapsed into the sheets, pretty certain that I would not be able to wait for her. My cock tented the bedclothes and a minute later my fingers were encircling my glans, teasing it slowly at first but then with more purpose. I lay there absently stroking myself for a few minutes before recalling the intense years-old image of Fiona leaning against the headboard the afternoon that I interrupted her jilling off. She was utterly lost in it then and soon I lost myself in self-pleasure as my fingers stroked my cock, thinking back all those years ago.

I suddenly became aware of the time and it was clear that if I didn’t finish myself soon, Fiona would be reversing roles, finding me splayed on the bed. The thought of her catching me, cock in hand, calling her name, was incredibly exciting but it was clear by this point that I would not be able to wait. I pumped my hand with increasing urgency, caught like a spotlighted animal.

If I couldn’t wait, at least I needed to finish in time to clean up and put things back into some sort of pre-orgasmic order. I dragged myself along, stroking harder, hoping that she would tarry at the store. At the moment of my climax, I heard Fiona’s keys in the back door. I exploded gobs of semen. “Please come in here,” I thought. “No. Wait! Don’t!” “Dammit please come in here. No. Ohhh.”

Semen spilled onto my abdomen and ran between my legs. I grabbed a towel, dabbed myself off and quickly pulled up the covers as I heard my wife coming down the hall toward our bedroom, my stomach flipping and my dick still twitching.

She quickly stripped out of her clothes and slipped between the sheets. We kissed passionately. In a moment she whispered, “I can smell what you have been doing.”

I was instantly hard again and rolled her onto her back, Escort Etiler pushing into her with none of our customary sex play.

“I was coming as you came through the back door,” I told her. “I wanted you to catch me but couldn’t wait.”

We fucked each other hungrily that evening and for a long time before finally drifting off to sleep, the sheets damp underneath us.

That’s been months ago but on weekdays alone, during my sessions of self-satisfaction, my fantasies wander back to that autumn Sunday, always with explosive results.

Last week we argued over one of a thousand details that needed to be solved before we can be together again. That’s been happening more and more and it is clear that she just wants this transition over and for us to be normal again. One of the week’s skirmishes related to spoiled vacation plans and my being delayed until Sunday, That morning, as I was leaving for the two-hour drive home, I took a chance and emailed her:

“Part of the problem recently is that you are sexually frustrated. I know that I am.

“We cannot take a vacation today but I can fuck you hard and I will be there in under an hour with that as my first intention. I expect to find you in bed with your legs spread and your fingers in your pussy getting yourself ready. I will text you in a few minutes with the time I will be home.

“Close the bedroom door. I’ll let myself in and I intend to listen to you for a while. Let me hear how much you like to please yourself. Enjoy yourself. Knowing that you were about to come through the back door after you texted me with instructions to take care of myself last fall gave me my most intense solo orgasm ever. It’s your turn now.

“Our undiluted physical pleasure in one another has been an abiding joy. I love you.

“Just text ‘yes’ when you have read this email.”

Almost immediately my phone chimed with a response: “YES.”

I made record time home and needed to circle the block a few times waiting for 11:00 am to arrive, the time I told Fiona to expect me. When I finally eased through the back door, the house was dark and I could hear muffled sounds from the bedroom. Eyüp escort My cock, already hard, became even more rigid. My stomach churned with anticipation and the familiar uncertainty of how a sexual encounter might end. Moving deeper into the house as quietly as I could, the sounds became more distinct until, finally standing outside our bedroom door, I could hear Fiona in the throes of self-pleasure.

I don’t know whether she knew that I was home but she was holding nothing back. Little cries, then, “Fuck me! Please fuck me!” More cries, then a moan. A whimper: “Yes! Yess! Yesssss!” My stomach churned listening in on what was unseen behind our bedroom door. More moans, then grunting: “Ugh, Ugh. Yessss!”

I unbuttoned my shorts and took my cock in my hand, straining to hear every sound. Fiona was gasping. “Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Yessss!”

Finally, when I couldn’t stand just listening, I opened the door and spied Fiona under the sheets, her knees raised.” She stared at me and gasped urgently, “Come fuck me, please!” She then kicked off the sheets.

Fiona’s legs were spread and her pussy was engorged. Fingers on her right hand danced over her clitoris and moved in and out of her vagina. Her right hand squeezed one nipple and Fiona thrashed while I just stared.

“Please,” she rasped, “Don’t just stand there. Give me your cock!”

I climbed onto the bed and knelt between Fiona’s open thighs stroking my cock. Then, in one stroke I entered her sopping pussy and drove my dick to the hilt. Fiona by now was screaming, “Yes!! Fuck me hard!!”

Holding Fiona’s legs in each hand, I drew her thighs up and slammed into her pussy, taking care to rake my cock over her clit. “That’s it!” she screamed. “Fuck- -my – – clit!!” I obliged, adjusting her beneath me so that I could capture the angle and for long minutes concentrate on Fiona’s pleasure, not my own.

“Yes!! Yes!! That’s it!! You’ve always…known (gasp)…what…to… do! Fuck me! Fuck me!! Fuck meeeeeeeee!!” Fiona moaned and bucked in an intense orgasm. With my wife satisfied and whimpering I adjusted the angle and plunged deeply into her, reveling in the warmth and wetness. The image of her splayed on the bed, pounding fingers into her pussy and the sweet sounds of her self-pleasure replayed over and over as I drove into Fiona, soon filling her and collapsing, each of us gasping for air.

We spent the rest of the morning in bed, holding each other and talking quietly, the storm broken.

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