Confessions Of A Married Woman

Meat loaf.

No, not the singer, but it all started one afternoon when I was kneading Ritz cracker crumbs and chopped onions into hamburger and shaping the palm-sized loaves to put into the oven for supper with a pan of scalloped potatoes. I was looking at the TV in the kitchen and suddenly, this beautiful thick chiseled bare-chested man stood in glorious high-definition on the screen, and I suddenly wondered what the hell I was doing with my life. I certainly wasn't living anymore, that's for sure.

Boredom. That's what it was, plain and simple boredom. The kind where you clip coupons and pinch pennies and hope that you can juggle the bills to the absolute last minute to avoid the late fees. The kind where your husband walks in the door from work and dutifully kisses you on the exact same spot on the cheek every night before grabbing the remote to turn on SportsCenter. The kind where you're tired of picking up dirty socks and underwear from the kid's bedroom and separating whites from colors while doing laundry.

How can you explain to your husband that you need some excitement and that doesn't include everything you've already done a thousand times? How can you communicate the monotony and frustration that comes with being married to a person that you love, to a life that you love, and yet, still crave something new and exciting?

My husband is solid, works hard, and is dependable. He's a good man, faithful, honorable and a loving father. He's your average guy from the top of his receding hairline, to his rapidly expanding waistline, to the tips of his crusty yellowish toenails. I love him, but damnit, the guy is going to bore me to death! Mr. Excitement he is not!

"Let's do something crazy this weekend, Honey," I asked him, after our teenagers had scooted from the dinner table. "Let's do something so totally off the wall that it would cause the neighbors to talk."

"Like what?"

"I don't know... How about we spread a blanket in the back yard and make love out in the open?" I whispered in his ear.

"But people would see us..." he said, looking worried.

"So what? It would be exciting, don't you think?"

"What about the kids?"

"We'll send them to your mother's for the day."

"I don't know, I mean, I don't think we want to get that kind of reputation..."

"OK... How about we drive the minivan up to Wal-Mart on Saturday night and make love in the parking lot?" I suggested. "We'll do a little shakin' and steam up the windows."

"Lots of police cruise by there and I don't want to wind up in the newspaper..."

"Fair enough. Why don't you come up with a suggestion?"

"Like what?"

"Come on... Use your imagination. I'm interested in anything kinky that turns you on..."

"Kinky?"

"Something crazy, something new and off the wall."

"I don't know, Honey..."

"I'll give you until tomorrow to think about it. Thrill me tomorrow night after supper with an idea," as I kissed and then sucked on his earlobe.

How many wives actually make their husbands that kind of offer? Lying in bed that night, another night without sex, I made the determination that if my loving husband didn't come up with something good, then I would have to take matters into my own hands.

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The chiseled thick bare-chested man invaded my dreams that night, his image slowly undressing me, button by button, the abrasive roughness of his hands scratching my skin on my back as he unhooked my bra. His hot mouth covered my areola and I felt his teeth graze across my nipple. As he started to slowly suck, increasing the intensity and pressure with each passing second, I was swept up into the massiveness of his arms. His biceps were like granite, carrying me with ease. I was dripping wet.

As he laid me on the bed, he lowered his body on top of mine, his strength holding me in position. I couldn't have escaped him even if I wanted to. The defined muscles of his chest and abdomen caused me to naturally spread my legs. As he came up to look into my eyes and then kiss me, I felt his cock press into my pubic region. "Oh God," I thought, having never felt such weight, density and thickness.

He raised his hips and slowly put his engorged helmet at the tip of my vaginal lips, holding the position to allow me to consider what was about to take place. The look in his eyes told me that he was going to take me with such force and strength that my whole body started to quiver with anticipation. I wanted it. I needed him to fill me up and fuck me like a wild animal. With my eyes, I challenged him to give me everything he's got, to fuck me with a raw passion of new lovers. I felt the muscles of his body start to tense and in one powerful thrust...

"BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP"

Five o'clock. My husband's alarm clock.

"Damn!" my husband groaned. "Oh God, I don't want to go to work."

"Oh fuck," I swore to myself breathing heavily, the spell broken, the reality of my married life slowly creeping back into my consciousness. Why couldn't that damn alarm have waited just five minutes longer?

My husband lumbered out of bed and a few minutes later I heard the toilet flush and the shower running. I closed my eyes and tried to mentally recapture that magical unconscious moment, my fingers under my panties poised to stimulate, however, that beautiful thick chiseled bare-chested man was now engulfed in a dense fog, the clarity gone.

Twenty minutes later, my husband came back into the bedroom and kissed me on the forehead saying, "I love you. Have a good day, Honey," and he was gone.

-----------------------

Later that morning, after the school bus picked up the kids, was my day to volunteer at our local hospital. Twice a week, I'm an adult Candy Striper. The actual job is less appealing than it sounds, basically, I'm just a glorified gofer and listener to the mostly older male patents, however, they seem to enjoy flirting and viewing the very slight bit of cleavage my red pinstripe dress provides. Hey, it gets me out of the house and circulating, and to be honest, the attention is flattering.

All morning long, I was looking for that man in my dream in every patient, but much to my disappointment, beautiful, thick, chiseled and bare-chested didn't describe any of them. Maybe half a century ago a couple of them could have been that vision, but time has a way of humbling even the most masculine of men. After my shift, I headed home to start making dinner.

On my way out to my minivan, I noticed a fireman walking out of the emergency room, his face covered in black soot. His thick heavy fire suit was worn and smoky, but I could envision from his body type that he had an amazing build. He was tall, had a full head of curly blonde hair and stood with posture. There was confusion in his eyes as he stood surveying the parking lot.

Was this the guy from my dream, the guy I was supposed to meet? Was this fate interceding into my humdrum life and marriage? I made an instantaneous decision to hike up my skirt a couple of inches and unbutton another button on my dress, before approaching him...

"Can I help you?" I asked in my most concerned voice, batting my eyelashes.

"Looking for my ride... I think it may have already left..." He said offhandedly still scanning the maze of cars.

"Would you like a ride?" I offered sincerely. "I'll be happy to take you anywhere you want to go..."

He finally looked down at me and smiled, a dazzling flash of white teeth. Hidden behind the ash covered face was the most amazing pair of greenish-blue eyes I had ever seen.

"Really? Do you have a pick-up truck that I could ride in the back?" he asked. "My suit is filthy."

"No, just a minivan," I said.

"Soccer mom, huh?" he smiled down at me, before suddenly looking embarrassed.

"Yeah, I guess so," I replied sadly, realizing that I had just been dismissed.

"Well, you may be the hottest soccer mom on the planet," he said sincerely, as if trying to recover from his faux pas. He looked down and smiled appreciatively at me.

"Thanks." I said. Was he looking down my dress? Was my red bra showing? Was he checking me out?

"Do you have a towel that I could sit on?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, no."

"Oh... well, then I wouldn't feel right getting your minivan all dirty. I'll just go in and call one of my buddies at the station..."

"NO!" I panicked. "Why don't you just take you fire suit off and we'll stick in the back?"

"Well, I'm kind of sweaty and smelly."

"I think I can handle the smell of a sweaty man. You wouldn't be the first!" I laughed.

"Well, I also only have underwear on underneath," he countered.

"I've seen men in their underwear, too," I smiled.

"Are you sure? I mean, you being married and all. I wouldn't want to put you in a bad position," he said, looking at my wedding and engagement rings.

"My husband is working, the children are at school and I have the rest of the afternoon free, actually," I replied, the words spilling out before I even realized their implication.

"Well, in that case, I'd be happy for a ride," he smiled.

Walking out to the Odyssey, he introduced himself as Paul and stated that he volunteered at the Uptown Fire Station Number Six on Rosewood Avenue. His apartment, however, was on the way to the station.

As he peeled off his tan colored fire-suit, I gasped at the washboard abs and muscular shoulders on his lanky six foot plus frame. The outline in his boxers suggested that he had quite a fire hose down below, too. Suddenly, I felt myself on fire! Plus, he had the wonderfully intoxicating sweaty smell of man.

"I hope I'm not imposing, too much," he modestly stated, his greenish-blue eyes flashing me a quick side look.

"No, no... not at all," I casually replied, biting my lower lip.

"I think that's an awesome dress, and you wear it very well," he smiled. "Reminds me of a few fantasies that I had in my younger days..."

"Oh really?" I fluttered my eyes, "Do tell, Paul..."

"I fell out of a tree when I was a teenager, and broke both legs. Was in the hospital for almost a week. A Candy Striper visited me every day, trying to cheer me up."

"Did she?"

"Heck yeah! And let's just say that my spirits weren't the only thing that rose," he laughed, flashing a set of perfect pearly whites.

"I seriously doubt that I'd be able to inspire that kind of reaction," I lamented.

"Don't kid yourself," he laughed, looking down at his lap.

Damn! He was getting hard right in the front seat of my Odyssey! Looking down, I almost ran a red-light. Screeching to a halt in the middle of an intersection, I couldn't take my eyes off it.

"The light just turned green," Paul laughed, after about five seconds.

I pulled through the intersection, shaking at my carelessness and desire.

"Give me your hand," Paul cooed, as I kept driving. He placed it on his satin boxers, and I could feel it still growing, block by block as we crossed town. By the time we reached his apartment, it kind of felt like it was almost the length and thickness of the center of a paper towel roll.

The Odyssey's navigation system suddenly announced the arrival at his apartment complex, breaking the silence.

"Wanna come inside?" Paul asked.

"More that you could ever understand," I lamented, twisting the golden rings on my finger. "But I can't... I want to, but I just can't..."

"Well, if you ever need someone to put out your fire..." he laughed, writing down his cell number on a piece of scrap paper from the center consol.

"If you ever need a Candy Striper to take care of you..." the words spilled out of me without thought.

"Well, actually, I do have a small problem right now," he laughed again, looking down.

"Trust me, you have a very large problem," I stated, looking him in his greenish-blue eyes.

"I should get my suit in the back and go."

Talk about the dilemma of a lifetime! It was so perfect! Sitting right beside me in my minivan was the sexual God of my dreams! I could plead temporary insanity, right? And my husband would never know, right? Didn't I want more excitement in my life, to break the monotony of married life?

The situation needed, no, it required some type of compromise, I rationalized. But what? Many times I had given light massages in the hospital to older patients who had cramps or sore muscles. Perhaps this situation could apply to Paul as well? Why the hell not?

I reached over and unbuttoned the fly to Paul's satin boxers and pulled out his huge cock.

"How rude of me not to perform my job for a valued member of our fire fighting community!" I said nervously. The pre-cum was oozing from the slit of his engorged purple mushroom crown, and I spread it across my palm and started to slowly stroke, barely able to wrap my hand around him. It was a beautiful cock, almost porn star-like, and my pussy started to gush as Paul moaned in appreciation.

"Your hand is like silk, so soft..."

"I use lotion everyday."

"That's it, nice and slow... God, that feels so good..." as he pressed the button on the electronic seat, laying back. Seeing his powerful abdominals flex and contract drove me crazy!

It mesmerized me, watching his huge cock throb in my tiny hand, my index finger circling the underside of his crown.

"Oooooooooo," he exhaled.

Grabbing the shafted as best I could, I started a very slow up and down motion.

"Please cup my balls with your other hand," he commanded, as I leaned over to service him with both hands. His scrotum felt so heavy, as I started to massage it while stroking.

"A little faster, please.... Mmmmmm... Yeah... that's it...."

"Are you enjoying this?" I smiled, doubtful that he was anymore turned-on that me.

"So gooood... Faster..."

As I stroked his cock, I wondered if it could ever fit inside me and how it would feel.

"That's it... A little faster..."

"Faster?"

"Ohhhhh... Yeah... Damnnnn...."

Suddenly, without warning, cum exploded from his massive cock, shooting all over his chest and abs, the back of seat, running down my hand and forearm, several giant globs even landing on my dress!

"Sorry!" he smiled, breathing heavily. "That was amazing...."

"I can't believe how much you came! You really could put out a fire!"

"I was just a little excited! Give me your panties and I'll clean us up."

"My panties?!?!" I panicked, knowing they were soaked.

"Yes, take them off and give them to me."

I lifted my butt off the seat, hiked-up my skirt and pulled them off, slowly handing them over, accidently getting his thick cum on my driver's side seat too. As I slowly handed them over, he took them from my hand and put them to his nose and breathed deep.

"Damn, you smell good," he smiled, before taking my hand and arms and wiping me down, and then wiping off his chest and abs. "Too bad, you're not coming inside. I'd really like to repay you for your kindness."

"I just can't... I really should be going," guilt suddenly entering my brain.

"I understand," Paul looked into my eyes. "You have my number."

"I'm happily married."

"Love is a beautiful thing. Your husband is a very lucky man."

"Goodbye, Paul."

"Let's just say 'Au revoir,' perhaps we'll meet again someday," he said hopefully, flashing that dazzling smile.

He retrieved his dirty fire suit in the back of the Odyssey, slid the door shut and slowly walked to the entrance of his apartment complex. His buttocks were so tight and perfectly formed that I was mesmerized, and then he suddenly turned and winked at me! How did he know? I gunned the engine to get out of the parking lot. Another ten seconds in his presence and my toes would be curled and pointing at the ceiling in his apartment!

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Three blocks from my house, it hit me like a cinderblock to the skull. I gave a hand job to someone other than my husband! Did that make me a cheater? Or just a good Samaritan who helped an heroic public servant with a bad muscle cramp? That's it! I just did my good deed for the day!

As I pulled in the driveway, I was horny as hell, and hoped that my husband would take care of business tonight! I needed fucked! Badly!

Even as I immediately started cooking dinner, visions of Paul flooded my brain. The cucumber for the salad, the zucchini on a shish-kabob, the bananas for the Jello, every food image reminded me of his thick throbbing cock! I was so wet, I had to go put a pair of panties on to keep my juices from running down my leg!

When my husband walked in the door, forty-five minutes late, I practically attacked him!

"Not now, honey, I'm beat. Absolutely whipped. Three people called off sick and we had to work through lunch. Didn't stop all day." he sighed, after kissing me meekly on the cheek, then flopping down on the sofa and turning on the TV.

"How about I give you a BenGay massage?" I cooed, rubbing his shoulders.

"Not now. All I want to do is grab something to eat, shower and jump in bed."

"You didn't have time to think of something exciting for us to do, did you?"

"Huh?"

"Don't you recall our conversation from last night?"

"Oh... yeah... kinky, right?"

"What's your plan, Sir?"

"Sorry, Hon... I forgot."

"Well... would you at least ravish me tonight, even just a little?"

"I'm tired, but I'll try..."

I walked into the kitchen to the cupboard. Scotty was off at soccer practice and Melissa was at band practice, so I only needed two plates.

"Grab me a beer, please!" my husband called out.

"Supper's ready," I called back.

We ate having the usual "How was your day?" conversation, and then when I got up to put another kabob on his plate, my husband noticed the stains on my red striped dress.

"You really should your put your apron on when cooking," he said dismissively. "Save a bill at the drycleaners."

"You're right, honey. I'm sorry."

After eating, I cooed in his ear that I would clear the dishes and load the dishwasher, and then we could go "have some fun."

However, upon entering the living room, hubby was already zonked out on the sofa. He was sawing more wood than all the lumber at Home Depot and Lowe's combined. Damn!

It was at this exact moment that I fished in my pocket and pulled out the piece of paper. After standing there staring at it for thirty seconds, then watching my husband snoring and drooling all over the good sofa cushions, I walked in the kitchen, picked up my iPhone and programmed Paul's number under the contact name "Fireman."

I had a burning desire that someone was going to have to put out!