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Tag: what got into her

What Got Into Her

My wife’s name is Cyn. Her black hair, warm brown eyes, copper complexion, long shapely legs that are inches apart as they reach her slim hips and firm cupped buns, her erect posture and lovely upturned nice sized breasts, her quick wit and sexy smile, her high cheekbones and her soft but well defined jaw-line, her smooth almost silky skin, the black hair of her pussy, her soft abdomen, her outward conservatism combined with her hot and uninhibited sexuality…these attributes have emotionally overwhelmed me for twenty-one years of marriage. I am hopelessly in love with her.

I have always suffered with a streak of jealousy, a possessive element in my personality. I am also idealistic, habitually putting girlfriends (before marriage) on a pedestal…it therefore always shocks me to learn from some high school buddy that years ago in high school some girlfriend of mine had been promiscuous…I had never dared to even attempt a sexual move on these girls.

But Cyn had been different. We met in college on a blind date; I had been told that she was hot so I tried to fuck her on our first date. Sure enough, she loved making out and dry-hunching…I even got her down to her underwear without much trouble, but after three years of trying I could never get her to go any further.

She would massage my penis in my jeans, but it wasn’t until that third year that she pulled off my underwear and masturbated me, a relief for me to cum in great explosive shots that rained all over both of us instead of unloading in my pants during our dry-hunching. This experience brought a new intimacy between us in which she confessed to me, after much questioning,her sexual experiences with past boyfriends.

She admitted handling the dicks of two boyfriends in high school though she denied ever witnessing an explosive ejaculation as we were by then sharing; she denied ever having intercourse with anyone though she had dated two boys in college before me…one who had claimed (so I had been told)to have fucked her; she vehemently denied this. I accepted this but today, 20 years later, I suspect she had been fucked regularly by at least this one boyfriend though she still claims I was the only person to have fucked her when we married.

Yes, we had been fucking for a year when we married. From the beginning she seemed far more sexually experienced, more comfortable and uninhibited than me. I learned from her, not vice versa. She was very holsum, a good and serious student, a church-going Catholic, and very popular. She never dressed provocatively, but she was a knock-out with a natural sexuality about her.

There is a careless lack of self-consciousness about her…for example, I often saw her breasts and nipples by easily looking down her blouse long before I ever got my hands on them. By her senior year, she discarded bras permanently and hasn’t worn one during all the years of our marriage.

She never had much patience with my jealousy. She doesn’t have a jealous bone in her body, probably a result of her formidable self-confidence. Her refusal to wear a bra was probably an early challenge to my jealousy during our marriage. Just as I so often got a full view down her blouse, I witnessed other men getting an eyeful. It disturbed me but it was also titillating to witness other men looking at her tits. I knew it was titillating to our male friends…her breasts and nipples are gorgeous and defy gravity. Wives would joke with me about how their husbands found Cyn to be so sexy, some of my male friends even joking about her fine breasts.

I said nothing to her except in our love-making…I’d confess what I’d seen and she would tease me, asking if I liked men seeing her nipples, even asking what I’d do if she let them squeeze her breasts, kiss and fuck her. She knew she was using my jealousy against me. Once when we had gotten drunk with a group of our friends, finding ourselves at a nightclub then driving home (all drunk) with Cyn in the backseat with a male friend (who loved her breasts) and the friend’s wife up front with me, I saw them french-kissing in the backseat with my friend’s hands on her tits.