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You have heard some of my stories; you know how I am easily seduced by the thought of seduction. I have attributed my willingness and ambivalence to a pre-disposition to please others and be accepted. I have been told by expensive shrinks I have this need to please. I want to please my husband, and I want to please the men I am with. I want their attention, their touch, their words, and their love. I like the sex, but I think I am addicted to a need to be needed. For as long as I can remember my marriage has been virtually devoid of affection, kindness, consideration.
We derive a certain degree of comfort in the years we’ve been together, and there is a form of mutual respect and acceptance that has sustained. Could that have happened without having someone who finds me attractive, desirable and who helped fill the emotional vacuum in my life? I don’t think so. Most would agree extra-marital relations hardly every help, but when you partner is so removed from the marriage that it has become one of convenience and security, there is little to lose. At least that is my rational, and I feel comfortable in that knowledge.
I am trying to peel away the outer skin and see what motivates me. What makes me do the things I do, and take the risks (perhaps because there is so little downside). I have analyzed and psychoanalyzed myself to death, and have come to the conclusion I only have one life, if I am going to commit myself to the duration of bahis firmaları it with my present partner out of longevity, sake of children, and the little comfort and security it offers, I will not deprive myself of the emotional emptiness that goes with the rest. That I can do something about, and I will.
Although my husband appears disinterested and emotionally vacant when it comes to feelings toward me, he is not at the point where I am free to do whatever I want with whomever I want. He would never allow that. Funny, despite his total lack of caring, he does have this possessive side, and I know he could not accept actual proof of infidelity. I am sure he has his suspicions, but he has never pursued me along any of those lines in a serious fashion. Therefore, I am compelled to create my own affairs, and carry them out in secret. All of that is leading up to my next challenge….
First, let me tell you a little about what I have to work with. Once you’re in your fifties, and the body is not what it used to be, you have to be a little more creative and imaginative. I’m taller than the average woman, a few pounds overweight, but better off than most. I rather attractive, and have a great outgoing personality. For some reason I have larger tits now than I can ever remember having. And as a bonus (in the seduction department) I have large nipples that harden at a touch, or glance in some cases). My pussy, when excited, is wet, slippery, soft, kaçak iddaa and taste great. I have learned to masturbate with vibrators and digitally to almost the same degree of satisfaction. I like to play with and explore my body and my mind. I am trying to be more mental in my sexuality. The mindset of an account with the desire to be a horny slut sometimes seems a bridge too far. But, when it happens, when I’m involved with someone, my mind makes a remarkable transition to all things sexual. It is one are where I feel almost complete control, not so much over myself and my actions, but over the situation. I can stop it, or make it happen. It is a powerful aphrodisiac.
I don’t know how long it’s been since I have been kissed, fondled, or gazed on with lust by a man, but it is way over due. I try to keep these occurrences at a minimum. There are times I even swear I will never do it again. I know I am a good person, and good persons do not fuck other men. But then again, if you husband won’t, what a mother to do?
I know we’re having a gathering tonight with half a dozen friends, and I feel the urge to test my mating skills. I woke early, before my husband, lying next to me this morning, and began to think about the party and guests. Slowly my right hand slid down my leg until I could grasp the sides of my nightgown. With my fingers I gradually inched my nightgown up to my hips. I wear panties when I sleep with my husband, more to discourage kaçak bahis him than anything else.
Once my nightgown was up to my hips, I slid my finger under my panties from the side and soon found the lips of my pussy were moist. With little effort I soon had my lips parted, and was beginning to spread the moisture the length of the opening, and covering my clit with the slippery fluid. God I love the way my pussy feels. I love the silky smoothness of it. I love the tingle it gives me when I circle and press my clit. The last thing I want to do when I am enjoying my pussy this much is to wake my husband, so I have mastered (no pun intended) masturbating in silence and with very little movement. Actually, sometime masturbating like this, in secrecy, is more of a turn-on than when alone or when using my vibrator alone. To think, my husband is lying there impervious to a woman so in need of sexual fulfillment she is relegated to masturbating in private. I’m glad he is sleeping, and missing out…
With my left hand I caress my tit through my nightgown and I slowly rub and finger my pussy. I close my eyes, and quietly and gently let my imagination take me away. Before long I feel the stirring in the depths of my pussy, my nipples are more sensitive and in need of more pressure and pinching. As I stroke and rub my clit, I insert my fingers inside; with a slight gasp I regain control, and then resume the pattern and tempo that will let me reach the orgasm I have been awaiting. Despite my efforts to stay still and quiet, I cannot help but jerk slightly with each spasm, and I know my breathing had deepened and increased, but true to history, he sleeps on while I cum…
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