Sexual Camaraderie

He is a bad man, he is so bad he is so good, he is a sexual–sensual bad man, a boy he is not. It is not just sex, I mean like, a good part of it is sex, I mean he is really good at sex but the main part is he got into my mind with his prose of poetry; erotic stuff that got into my mind that moved to my large breasts and made them heave or was it just my deep breathing? He caused my flat tight tummy to burn, on down to what he called my “Bermuda Triangle, thick, rich and full, a man could get lost in your Bermudan Triangle.” We had (have) just a naturalness about us, a camaraderie of sexual freedom, I mean he just looked at me and I knew what he could and would do to me and I wanted him to, and he knew what I could do to him in perfect sexual freedom. One of the things he loves is me giving him a handjob with his large testicles in my mouth and with my other hand sticking my long fingers up his ass. I can play with him a long time that way except when I stick my fingers up his ass, he cums almost immediately so I have to save that for last and it is usually four eruptions all over his flat tanned belly. You know, for a guy his age he has a pretty hot body. In fact, he has a body much more in shape than my husband’s. In fact, he has a physique that most thirty year old men would like to have (he works out at least three times a week.) He caused me to spread my legs, he caused me to want to spread my legs for him, that is the power he has and there is nothing wrong with it. We girls have been taught and made to think that we can and should have the power (whatever that power is?) and it is a bunch of bullshit. When you find the right man a girl’s legs just spread for him and (this is very important) he never took advantage of me and that I think is because he is older than I, way more experienced in life than me so there is no or very little competition between us.. The fact is, I took advantage of him whenever I could, yap, I took sexual advantage of him and he was most accommodating because, as I have said, I am married and a kept woman (money, but honey, I have to have good sex!!!) And the old man is the best, well older he is, almost twice my age, ah yes, soon it will be the latest rage– again. It goes all through history, that is if you know the history of great romances. Othello, Othello was quite the fellow twice the age of his teenage wife? She might have been twenty? Shakespeare has nothing on my seasoned man of poetry, you should see some of the things he did to me :) well, I am trying to keep you updated. Once he gave me a hickey on my clit, of course I was completely lost in him, nerve endings all going wild and such that I didn’t know it until later. I was sore for three days and I know he did it on purpose and of course it made me think of him most of the time for better or for worse but I will say by the end of that third day I was READY, I mean READY ready. A tender clit is no fun i.e., no touchy– touchy and try explaining that to your husband… “I am just having one of my moments dear.” Anyway, I threatened to give my older lover a hickey on his head and you know what he said “fair is fair, lovely lady.” And he said it with a smile. It was so natural to have sex with him, I mean just natural and naturally erotic, exotic and “you can be one nasty man!!” “Are you complaining?” “Not in the least old poet, how about Monday at noon.”

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