Sex after Marriage: The First Time

Based on a journal entry from 2006...


I can say with 100% certainty that a woman's sexual "prime" is NOT, in fact, after the age of 40 but rather at whatever age the woman happens to be when her sexless marriage falls apart.

I was 36 when my marriage ended and that very same summer turned out to be the exact time and age that I reached my sexual prime. What a coincidence!

After I moved out, I allowed for the proper grieving period (about two weeks) then promptly started using the Internet the way God had intended, to find sex of course.

HOOK

My very first "pick" was a guy I'll call Brian. He and I met on a local dating website, talked by email a few times, and then met for a drink.

When I first saw Brian in person, I was floored by his beautiful skin, his very tall and HUGE physique and his super-soft strawberry blond hair. He was really quite handsome!

The meeting went well (says the girl who hadn't been on a "date" in 10 years) and then we parted, only to start up the flirtatious emails again.

After about a week of uneventful conversations, I became bored. Bored, ravenous, wet and extremely frustrated! (No thanks to him by the way).

LINE

Once I'd had all of the flirting that I could swallow, I decided to take a leap and ask the guy out.

A few days later (after he had accepted my invitation for a "proper" date) we were discussing what we might do that weekend and for some odd reason everything that I suggested had us either naked, wet, or both!

He’d suggest a movie; I’d suggest a couple’s massage. He’d suggest dinner; I’d suggest skinny dipping in the ocean.

We went round and round like that for awhile (as Brian (supposedly) could never quite catch my drift). He’d laugh at my naughty suggestions but then just move on to suggest another boring dating ritual.

Again the guy forced me to be forward, so, in classic huntress style (which I can't stand), I flat out told him what I really wanted:

“Brian, are you the kind of guy that can sleep with people that you are not serious about?”

"What do you mean?" He (awkwardly) answered.

"Am I being vague?" I asked him.

(Long Pause)

I tried again, "What... I... am... asking... YOU... is if you would fuck me this weekend?"

(Longer Pause)

"Well," he finally says, "then the answer is yes."

"Great!" I said, and hung up the phone. (My God!)

SINKER

I checked in to a room at the Hilton between his house and mine.

To wear I settled on a slightly over-sized, men's, white cotton dress shirt, buttoned only in the center, with nothing else.

I lit too many candles, took a hot bath and poured a stiff drink to calm my nerves. It didn't help.

I was shaking like a leaf when I answered the door and in a surprisingly bold action (as I thought only a hunter would do) Brian leaned in for a "hello" kiss. Only instead of kissing him, like I so much wanted to do, I unexpectedly and rather unconsciously did that instinctive “pull away” move that people do when they are revolted by something. (Oh... my... God...!!!)

But we recovered quickly and moved to the large chairs in the sitting room.

We stared at each other in silence for awhile and then he held out his hand, asking me to dance. I accepted, and we moved slowly around the dark room.

It felt nice to be held, to be touched...and wanted.

Brian had the guts to try and kiss me again(thankfully), and when he did, things really started coming together. The kiss was gentle at first, his tongue barely inside, licking my lips, biting a little. I breathed into him, and followed his lead.

I had forgotten how beautifully erotic a great kiss could be.

We kissed and kissed, like new young lovers, desperate for sensuality, dying for that "feeling."

We fell on to the bed and started ripping at each others clothes. I slid down to work on getting his belt off; he took my shirt on the way down, and then took off his own.

He flipped me on to my back, and kissed my body. Breasts (oohhh God), tummy, navel, thighs, back to belly button. Without thinking, I had my hands on his head, pushing him slightly, in a downward direction.

He acquiesced, and I felt his tongue, warm, wet, stiff and AMAZING, sliding up and down, teasing me to extremes. I made a sound that I had never made before, something like a cross between, "yes", a moan, and the word "fuck". It sounded like, "yymoofck". A little "cowish", but I couldn't help it!

Please keep in mind that up to then, I hadn't felt a tongue in that exact location for at LEAST five years. Seriously...five years!

I was in heaven as be brought me up, up and ohhhh so close to that elusive orgasm. He brought me sooo close, but not all the way.

Sadly, every time that I was at the point of explosion, my brain engaged. (My brain picks THEN to engage?)

I would lose the moment...it was too important, I wanted it too much. I needed it too intensely.

I pulled on his head, to stop him from exerting himself fruitlessly, but he looked at me sweetly, and said, "Hush...it's OK." "Just relax."

I laid back and felt his fingers exploring, feeling inside of me. It felt good, but not THAT good. It wasn't enough to keep my mind quiet, and I started thinking again, "I wonder what I look like from this angle?" "Am I too wet?" "How embarrassing!"

I gave precedence to the thoughts in my brain, over the fingers inside of me, until something at my feet caught my attention.

It was a feeling...an energy that started at my toes and began to rise. Was it all coming from his hands?

I felt it in my knees, thighs, abdomen...and it kept rising...getting more intense. I didn't know what to make of it, it was taking me over! Magic hands is more like it!

Heart, neck...and, then, "OH MY GOD!” I screamed.

Waves, and waves and waves...and waves AND waves...of shattering, mind-altering, unabridged cumming!

I couldn't have stopped it if I wanted to. Powerful, intense, almost too intense, multiple oragasm'ing, was my life for about five entire minutes. I don't know, maybe longer, maybe shorter. It felt like an hour. It didn't matter. It was RELIEF. Total and complete relief.

After I stopped shaking and sputtering, moaning and grasping at the sheets,I shot straight up, and with the widest eyes ever (I am sure), I said, "How did you DO that?!? And.. "What did you do?"

He just looked at me and laughed, "You liked that did you?" he said. (Now Mr. Smug)
"I just pushed my fingers, like this," he showed me, holding his index and middle finger in a hooked position,"until I could feel your heart beat." Then he said, "and your body did the rest."

I lay back down; to let the shock wear off, then asked him shyly, "Can we do it again?"

"No," He said, and instead began taking me, missionary and urgent.

I wrapped my legs around him and we rocked and pushed and pulled and tightened and swelled.

Fucking him reminded me of my lost feminine power and I became rabid with sinful greediness.

Before he could come, I pushed him out of me, ripped off the condom, and asked, no ordered, no, begged for him to come in my mouth.

Fully engorged and breathing heavily, he straddled my chest and let my tongue envelope him.

Animal groaning, determined sucking, bodies dripping...clutching, grabbing...screaming...and OUT OF THIS WORLD escaping into each other, was all that surrounded us.

With a morbid yell and one last thrust, he freed himself and released...in my mouth, on my lips and tongue, my breasts, my tummy, my cunt and all over my thighs. Maniacal and violent, he shook and sprayed and dripped, all over my body.

Totally done and totally exhausted, we crashed next to one another. Neither of us speaking for a very long time.

Once recovered, Brian turned to me, as if in total disbelief, and said, "You...are amazing."

It was a wonderful weekend!

So, to any of you newly divorced people who might be nervous or uncertain about sex after marriage, take it from me...it only gets better from here.

-Kyuuri