Hey, know what's better than mistletoe and chestnuts roasting on a open fire?
Having a mindshattering orgasm with la homme's head between my legs, in my office, on the last day of work before Christmas........
While Barbra Striestand sings the Lord's Prayer.
Surely I will burn in hell.
Still? Totally worth it.
Merry Christmas, ya'll.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
The Truth of the Matter, Revealed
I've noted in nearly every post that la homme's wife is crazy. I know this because there's been some drama, which isn't very interesting, but the point of it is this: she got oh holy pissed off at him and told another girl in our office that he was not among the well endowed. It spread like wildfire, and I've spent sometime wondering if I would be disappointed at some point.
Now would be a good time to explain that I do love my husband, and that we have a long history together, and he's fallen apart on me in the past year, and the betrayal of being kept cold and hungry, in bitter, angry silence, is part of how I justify my shenanigans. Also? I put up with an awful lot of bullshit for about a twice a month romp with his very generous package. When we first started dating, and I was all of seventeen and only technically not a virgin, it was all he could do to get inside me. It took us a few months of weekly practice to get truly functional. Oh, those were the days!
I digress. So I was concerned that perhaps after years of occasional contact with a very large cock, if the rumors were true, la homme might leave something to be desired. My chief concerns were concealing my disappointment and worrying that over the years, my husband had ruined what he oft referred to as one of my best traits- a very tight pussy. Sometimes, he's ignored me for so long that we have to go back to our original tactics to allow him to fully penetrate me, but what if that was due to him and not me? Even in this naughty double life, I am neurotic and self conscious, which are two traits that do not suit a temptress. The question and the problem had grown huge in my head, particularly since I was beginning to think that la homme's refusal to let me touch him there was about more than his silly point of no return.
He's started coming to ask me a business question, standing in the door frame of my office, holding the door against his hip, with his beautiful body blocking the entire opening. When he does this, I kick off a high heeled shoe, put my foot on top of a drawer handle, and put on a little show for him.
The last time he did this, there was no one around to throw off the trail, so he was on his headset with a client when he stood at my door, not talking to me at all, just biting his lower slip a little as I slipped a finger inside me and wiggled my hips, grinning at him. He came in to my office and shut the door, replacing my finger with his own, and I slipped the mic arm on his headset up and out of my way as I kissed him, tugging on that beautiful lower lip with my teeth, gently.
He finished up his phone call and turned me around, so that my back was against his chest, and with a hand on my breast and another between my legs, he began to nibble on my neck and earlobes, until I turned my head and kissed him, neck twisted to it's limit, body still facing forward. He let up for a second, and I took the opportunity to turn and face him.
He kissed me and at the same time, took my hand and guided it to where I've tried myself to put it so many times. He was hard, and throbbing, and as I rubbed my hand over the front of his dress pants, I searched for the head. And searched, and searched, thinking to myself that his wife was a lying bitch. When I found it, and gave it a little squeeze, I gasped a little in the midst of our kiss, and he put his hand between my legs just in time to realize the effect this new boundary crossing had on me. I continued to rub his hard cock through his pants, and just as I was working up the nerve to go for his button and zipper, he pulled his hand away, then mine, kissed me one last time, turned around, took a few deep breaths, checked his appearance, and left.
Question answered. Problem solved. And now the only thing left to wonder, well, two things- when will I get to feel him throb inside me, and when will I get a taste?
coco
Now would be a good time to explain that I do love my husband, and that we have a long history together, and he's fallen apart on me in the past year, and the betrayal of being kept cold and hungry, in bitter, angry silence, is part of how I justify my shenanigans. Also? I put up with an awful lot of bullshit for about a twice a month romp with his very generous package. When we first started dating, and I was all of seventeen and only technically not a virgin, it was all he could do to get inside me. It took us a few months of weekly practice to get truly functional. Oh, those were the days!
I digress. So I was concerned that perhaps after years of occasional contact with a very large cock, if the rumors were true, la homme might leave something to be desired. My chief concerns were concealing my disappointment and worrying that over the years, my husband had ruined what he oft referred to as one of my best traits- a very tight pussy. Sometimes, he's ignored me for so long that we have to go back to our original tactics to allow him to fully penetrate me, but what if that was due to him and not me? Even in this naughty double life, I am neurotic and self conscious, which are two traits that do not suit a temptress. The question and the problem had grown huge in my head, particularly since I was beginning to think that la homme's refusal to let me touch him there was about more than his silly point of no return.
He's started coming to ask me a business question, standing in the door frame of my office, holding the door against his hip, with his beautiful body blocking the entire opening. When he does this, I kick off a high heeled shoe, put my foot on top of a drawer handle, and put on a little show for him.
The last time he did this, there was no one around to throw off the trail, so he was on his headset with a client when he stood at my door, not talking to me at all, just biting his lower slip a little as I slipped a finger inside me and wiggled my hips, grinning at him. He came in to my office and shut the door, replacing my finger with his own, and I slipped the mic arm on his headset up and out of my way as I kissed him, tugging on that beautiful lower lip with my teeth, gently.
He finished up his phone call and turned me around, so that my back was against his chest, and with a hand on my breast and another between my legs, he began to nibble on my neck and earlobes, until I turned my head and kissed him, neck twisted to it's limit, body still facing forward. He let up for a second, and I took the opportunity to turn and face him.
He kissed me and at the same time, took my hand and guided it to where I've tried myself to put it so many times. He was hard, and throbbing, and as I rubbed my hand over the front of his dress pants, I searched for the head. And searched, and searched, thinking to myself that his wife was a lying bitch. When I found it, and gave it a little squeeze, I gasped a little in the midst of our kiss, and he put his hand between my legs just in time to realize the effect this new boundary crossing had on me. I continued to rub his hard cock through his pants, and just as I was working up the nerve to go for his button and zipper, he pulled his hand away, then mine, kissed me one last time, turned around, took a few deep breaths, checked his appearance, and left.
Question answered. Problem solved. And now the only thing left to wonder, well, two things- when will I get to feel him throb inside me, and when will I get a taste?
coco
Blondie
I've never really been into girls. They're hot, sure, but I'm a girl. So while I might appreciate a beautiful woman, my drive, my appetite is for men. Until I met blondie.
She's a specimen. Beautiful, natural blonde hair, smartly cut and well kept. Pretty blue eyes, a perfect set of pouting lips, and an incredible body. Where I am soft, curvy, and blessed with larger than average breasts, she is taut, sharp lined, and has perfect perky little breasts that never require a bra. We are something like night and day, her well mannered blonde bob against my wily, wavy, out of control chestnut mop. My soft curves against the hard lines of her well earned, well formed muscular frame. She's a few inches shorter than I am, and intoxicating.
We've had a few moments when I thought that she would like to kiss me, and I've never shied away, but I like to be pursued, so I'm also not going to be the one to flip the switch. So we've stalled out at a few drunken kisses, not even the best kind of kisses, and I figured it would stay that way. Particularly since it's rare that I see her outside of my husband's ever looming presence, and he would never, ever allow me to enjoy such a treat without standing witness. Which? Fuck that. Maybe if he saw fit to take care of me, sexually and literally, I would consider that, but pigs will fly before that day comes, so anything I get around to with Blondie will be when he's not around.
I saw her the other night, at a party, and when it was time to leave, I had a moment to say goodbye in private. I invited her to the house over the holidays, for soup and wine, and we kissed, and had another almost moment, when someone interrupted our conversation.
We've since firmed up a date, and in doing so, I set the stage for a sleepover while my husband is on his trip......
Sitting here, writing these posts, it occurs to me that this time last year, I would have never done any of this, thought about it, wrote about it, even considered it. Now I seem to have taken to it like a fish to water. As if it were a part of myself so long denied and now bubbling to the surface, as natural as if it had been there all along. What a wonderful, terrible feeling.
She's a specimen. Beautiful, natural blonde hair, smartly cut and well kept. Pretty blue eyes, a perfect set of pouting lips, and an incredible body. Where I am soft, curvy, and blessed with larger than average breasts, she is taut, sharp lined, and has perfect perky little breasts that never require a bra. We are something like night and day, her well mannered blonde bob against my wily, wavy, out of control chestnut mop. My soft curves against the hard lines of her well earned, well formed muscular frame. She's a few inches shorter than I am, and intoxicating.
We've had a few moments when I thought that she would like to kiss me, and I've never shied away, but I like to be pursued, so I'm also not going to be the one to flip the switch. So we've stalled out at a few drunken kisses, not even the best kind of kisses, and I figured it would stay that way. Particularly since it's rare that I see her outside of my husband's ever looming presence, and he would never, ever allow me to enjoy such a treat without standing witness. Which? Fuck that. Maybe if he saw fit to take care of me, sexually and literally, I would consider that, but pigs will fly before that day comes, so anything I get around to with Blondie will be when he's not around.
I saw her the other night, at a party, and when it was time to leave, I had a moment to say goodbye in private. I invited her to the house over the holidays, for soup and wine, and we kissed, and had another almost moment, when someone interrupted our conversation.
We've since firmed up a date, and in doing so, I set the stage for a sleepover while my husband is on his trip......
Sitting here, writing these posts, it occurs to me that this time last year, I would have never done any of this, thought about it, wrote about it, even considered it. Now I seem to have taken to it like a fish to water. As if it were a part of myself so long denied and now bubbling to the surface, as natural as if it had been there all along. What a wonderful, terrible feeling.
Long Term Strategy
Major plans were set for after the company Christmas party this Friday. Minor plans for office visits peppered the week. After being cock blocked by my best friend and my asshole husband all week, I had had about fucking enough. Or, not nearly enough, if you prefer.
My best friend works with me. She knows that at one point I had a crush on la homme, because at the same time, he had a crush on her. Her stupid, naive, newly married ass dissolved into tears and quickly cut off any friendly contact with him. I've swallowed my pride over being his consolation prize. Who fucking cares, already- this is not high school, this is not an exercise in snagging a husband. At any rate, she calls him predator, and is wary of him, and very wary of any contact we might have, which in her naive mind, is a only a danger to my heart and not my fine upstanding moral status. So she is protective, and this means that our little adventures are planned around her absences.
She unknowingly gets in my way when she refuses to take a lunch break, or insists that I accompany her on some silly errand. Do not misunderstand, I love the girl dearly, and if she weren't so damn faithful, I would get her drunk and paint her toenails and devour her like a perfectly cooked, aged steak. She is just a source of frustration in this situation. La homme admits that he still holds great affection for her, and that his attraction is secondary to his affection, and even he was ready to put a fucking pen in her eye on about Wednesday.
Through unfortunate circumstances that befell me about a month ago, my husband and I are sharing a vehicle. Of course, this makes slipping away from the office damn near impossible, as I can't very well ride with la homme, and I have no other discreet transportation. What it has also meant is that at times, I can keep our vehicle with me, and then pretend I am too busy to go pick up my husband, and my best friend very willingly offers to do it for me. She likes to help out and to take a break from the office, and I tie my two biggest obstacles up together for at least 30 minutes. The best part? There have been times that la homme has had his talented lips on the nape of my neck and his finger shoved up inside me, behind my closed and locked office door, while best friend and husband idly chat in the parking lot. (working for a security company has it's advantages, as I can pull our cameras up on my computer to chase la homme off seconds before best friend walks through the door..)
This is an awfully long post that doesn't seem to be headed to the point the title made.
So I'll cut to the chase. I got fucking skunked at my office Christmas party, which didn't hurt me a bit, because I know when I can't feel my teeth and I'm not among friends that I need to stay seated and keep my fucking mouth shut and my legs crossed, and that, my friends, is what I did.
However, my best friend and my husband, my cock blocking chauffeurs for the day, now had to coordinate my travels themselves, as I was not capable of it. They got into a huge fight and won't speak for a long time. And while this ruins a great strategy for the short term, patterns are dangerous and I didn't like them having a chance to talk without me. So, unintentionally, I've solved that problem, at least for now.
Also, because my husband managed to treat both myself and my best friend like complete and utter shit, she'll likely back off a little in sticking up for him and encouraging me to be a good little wife, and might back off from me entirely for a little while, as it makes these sweet little girls so nervous to be exposed to what marriage can become.
He is planning a trip with a friend. It's a window, though the real problem is la homme's crazy fucking KGB stalking wife, who takes mileage on his car, calls his phone every five seconds outside of business hours, and routinely smells him.
Between now and then? I'm thinking of how I can convince la homme that I don't think he'll ever fuck me. He hates, hates, hates being questioned and teased, and the last time I took that route with him, he almost lost his cool. If I play my cards right, he might just pin me against the outside wall in my office and fuck me silly right then and there.
He loves the game, the chase, as much as he loves winning the game, but I'm frustrated. I don't mind the sweet torture of the games he plays with me, but I could enjoy them a lot more if I could just win once.......
My best friend works with me. She knows that at one point I had a crush on la homme, because at the same time, he had a crush on her. Her stupid, naive, newly married ass dissolved into tears and quickly cut off any friendly contact with him. I've swallowed my pride over being his consolation prize. Who fucking cares, already- this is not high school, this is not an exercise in snagging a husband. At any rate, she calls him predator, and is wary of him, and very wary of any contact we might have, which in her naive mind, is a only a danger to my heart and not my fine upstanding moral status. So she is protective, and this means that our little adventures are planned around her absences.
She unknowingly gets in my way when she refuses to take a lunch break, or insists that I accompany her on some silly errand. Do not misunderstand, I love the girl dearly, and if she weren't so damn faithful, I would get her drunk and paint her toenails and devour her like a perfectly cooked, aged steak. She is just a source of frustration in this situation. La homme admits that he still holds great affection for her, and that his attraction is secondary to his affection, and even he was ready to put a fucking pen in her eye on about Wednesday.
Through unfortunate circumstances that befell me about a month ago, my husband and I are sharing a vehicle. Of course, this makes slipping away from the office damn near impossible, as I can't very well ride with la homme, and I have no other discreet transportation. What it has also meant is that at times, I can keep our vehicle with me, and then pretend I am too busy to go pick up my husband, and my best friend very willingly offers to do it for me. She likes to help out and to take a break from the office, and I tie my two biggest obstacles up together for at least 30 minutes. The best part? There have been times that la homme has had his talented lips on the nape of my neck and his finger shoved up inside me, behind my closed and locked office door, while best friend and husband idly chat in the parking lot. (working for a security company has it's advantages, as I can pull our cameras up on my computer to chase la homme off seconds before best friend walks through the door..)
This is an awfully long post that doesn't seem to be headed to the point the title made.
So I'll cut to the chase. I got fucking skunked at my office Christmas party, which didn't hurt me a bit, because I know when I can't feel my teeth and I'm not among friends that I need to stay seated and keep my fucking mouth shut and my legs crossed, and that, my friends, is what I did.
However, my best friend and my husband, my cock blocking chauffeurs for the day, now had to coordinate my travels themselves, as I was not capable of it. They got into a huge fight and won't speak for a long time. And while this ruins a great strategy for the short term, patterns are dangerous and I didn't like them having a chance to talk without me. So, unintentionally, I've solved that problem, at least for now.
Also, because my husband managed to treat both myself and my best friend like complete and utter shit, she'll likely back off a little in sticking up for him and encouraging me to be a good little wife, and might back off from me entirely for a little while, as it makes these sweet little girls so nervous to be exposed to what marriage can become.
He is planning a trip with a friend. It's a window, though the real problem is la homme's crazy fucking KGB stalking wife, who takes mileage on his car, calls his phone every five seconds outside of business hours, and routinely smells him.
Between now and then? I'm thinking of how I can convince la homme that I don't think he'll ever fuck me. He hates, hates, hates being questioned and teased, and the last time I took that route with him, he almost lost his cool. If I play my cards right, he might just pin me against the outside wall in my office and fuck me silly right then and there.
He loves the game, the chase, as much as he loves winning the game, but I'm frustrated. I don't mind the sweet torture of the games he plays with me, but I could enjoy them a lot more if I could just win once.......
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Back in the Saddle
So my break from the office had the effect I had hoped it would. It put la homme's wife back on low alert and put la homme hot on my tail, I mean trail.
Today we finally shook loose of our coworkers and stole a moment, and I do mean just a moment, in my office. It wasn't long, but it was long enough for him to give me a belated birthday present......
For the first time in thirty years, someone went down on me. Someone who knows what he's doing. Someone who loves doing it, who would rather do that than almost anything else.
This is what I've been missing all my life?! I haven't really been living.......
I hope he realizes that in a few short minutes, he's created a monster....
Best.Gift.Ever.
Today we finally shook loose of our coworkers and stole a moment, and I do mean just a moment, in my office. It wasn't long, but it was long enough for him to give me a belated birthday present......
For the first time in thirty years, someone went down on me. Someone who knows what he's doing. Someone who loves doing it, who would rather do that than almost anything else.
This is what I've been missing all my life?! I haven't really been living.......
I hope he realizes that in a few short minutes, he's created a monster....
Best.Gift.Ever.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Intermission
So, perhaps I was a little melodramatic in my last post. In the meantime, la homme has taken great care to pay me a little attention here and there, a touch, a glance, a note or two. Enough to reassure me that he truly is just trying to stay out of trouble, thereby keeping me out of trouble too, and I can even go so far as to say that he's protecting what we have, because as soon it would be discovered, it would be ruined, along with both of our lives. His deliberate way of reassuring me makes me wonder if he's discovered this blog. I am sure that he hasn't.
I'm out of the office this week, which gives him all the more reason to miss me, and we're hoping that things will be back to normal soon. I would like to try to fill you in on some of what occured before our hiatus. We'll see if the universe cooperates.
I'm out of the office this week, which gives him all the more reason to miss me, and we're hoping that things will be back to normal soon. I would like to try to fill you in on some of what occured before our hiatus. We'll see if the universe cooperates.
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