My husband and I had been happily married for five years, and for the most part there were few complaints on my part. We had undergone various obstacles in the past both financially and emotionally, but we had always come out of them stronger than when we went in. We had started out with our own fevered flare in the bedroom, complete with our imaginations running wild with toys and costumes that empowered us sexually. He and I even had our own language in the bedroom. When I said "Is that all you got, little man?" I actually meant "You're doing great. Don't stop!" and when he said "Ohhh you're a dirty whore!" he really meant "I'm coming". It was all very cute.
I had let myself turn into a disaster zone and I saw the effects of my neglect every morning before showers and when I stepped into a bathing suit. It wasn't the 10 pounds I put on after our son was born ,or left on depending on whose side your on. It was my cooter.
Our son had been a big boy at birth tipping the scales at a whopping 13 pounds 2 ounces. I was appalled to learn that he didn't want to go, he seemed to hold on till the bitter end. He was responsible for what I call the big meaty beef curtains. Our obstetrician had mentioned that he might be a "tight squeeze". It was an understatement of mammoth proportions. He was a monster. The beginning of my pregnancy had begun with little worries and there were only a few trips to A&W at 3 in the morning for my husband. We were Ozzie and Harriet during the first 4 months. I tell him what Mr. Spock thought and he'd tell me what Bill Cosby's Fatherhood was all about. We stayed up late coming up with names for our son like Randolph or Chester, but we never could come up with anything we both liked. Not until we saw IT. At 7 months I was huge and doctors had told me more than once that I was having quintuplets. This was not the case, although it might have something to do with our choice when naming the child. I thought of myself as Dom Delouise or Violet from the Willy Wonka movie. And it didn't stop there. My feet had gone from being red and sore to yellow and cracked. My breasts had become beached whales on my chest and I felt like Greenpeace with every breath. Just before the birth I was admitted to the hospital, not for labour pains or my water breaking but for my safety and those around me. I had already broken my kankle in an unfortunate accident involving a shopping cart and a troop of girl scouts. There were no fatalities unless you count a folding table and the 48 boxes of thin mints.
I don't remember the actual delivery. I wasn't allowed an epidural on account of the interaction with the anti inflammatory I was on. The doctor had told me the wouldn't be a need for a cesarean because I had the perfect hip bones for a breeder (doctors words not mine). I swear to this day he was trying to punish me for having a baby, but I still haven't compiled enough evidence to get a lawyer. But I do remember one thing during the birthing process. I remember blowing a tire at 110 km an hour on the highway, or at least that is what it sounded like when my son was born. After that I seriously thought about getting my tubes tied but settled later on birth control.
My husband and I waited 3 months after the birth to start up the sexual revolution. We started slow at first. Foreplay had become our niche. I was getting better and better as weeks went on at the art of fellatio. I'd start sucking the head of his penis while working the shaft with my own saliva lube. He loved the way I spun my hand around on the top of his head and came down in a backwards hand job and then switched on the next stroke. I got a shudder out of him every time. I'd suck his nipples till the were as painful as mine. I'd pull his balls gingerly into my mouth and swirl them around working his shaft faster and faster until I could feel his dick tense. I'd release my grip and kiss him hard on the lips and wait for his willy to cool down and repeat the process till I was sure he couldn't take it any longer. I waited till just the right moment while working his shaft so I could gag on him while he coated my throat. He had no complaints for my technique and praised my hand job routine endlessly.
Now, while my husband was of an above average length and girth he had ceased to bring me to orgasm with penetration since the pregnancy. While he could get my motor running with nipple play and finger action, his cock had no effect. I had tried while alone with Randy (my dilly) but had only seen the slightest tinge of the purple colour, feet tingling ,heart in my ears waves of orgasm I used to have. They were more like a mosquito hitting a bug zapper. I had begun at this point to voice my frustration at the lack of ecstasy I was feeling and was promised a night of pure attention to my bruised and battered baby maker. He promised that he would do all he could with his fingers, mouth and even offered to take control of Randy until I had a release comparable to pre-baby sex. All this was promised if he could be allowed to dress up in a new outfit and have me play the part of a new character he had come up with. The character and outfit he had chosen would be announced after cunnilingus was preformed and satisfactory results were achieved. After hearing this I agreed completely and wondered what kinky scenario we would be acting out.
The night we had agreed upon, he had begun by running me a bath with essential oils infusing the air. The bath was a perfect mixture of heat and bubbles and allowed my body to de-stress. The lights were low in the bed room when I emerged warm and wanting. The sheets had been replaced by a thick fake bear fur blanket and my vibe, lube and a night mask had a spot beside were I was to lay. He took the time when I laid down to put the night mask around my eyes blocking out the candle lit world. He began to knead the knots from my back and massage my neck and head until I was complete putty. He had me flip onto my back and continued the massage with my feet and continued up my legs. I was hot and flushed and completely wet down there when his hand touched my inner thigh. I felt my womanhood awaken at the mere tickle close to pussy. He began to slowly push and drag his knuckle up through my fevered snatch, taking painstaking time circling my clit around and around until my breath was hot with anticipation. While his fingers were stroking me in concentric circles, his hot breath was felt on my thighs and lips of my pussy. He began darting his finger just inside me while sucking my lips with excruciating slowness. I felt the first wave of orgasm start as his tongue flicked hard over my clit. I uttered a sharp enthusiastic "oh" at this and knew this was the first of many unintelligible comments on how I would be feeling. He began a slow lapping at the entrance of me and worked me into a frenzy of audible exclamations. He pushed his thumb into me hard while flicking his snake-like tongue over my clit. He sloshed in and out of me with his thumb while his other hand reached up to circle my nipple on my right breast that was already hot and hard. I felt bolts of electricity from my breasts to my pussy engulf me in raging torrents. He switched his thumb for my vibe and pushed hard into me while never leaving my clit out of reach of his tongue. I was unaware of the guttural noises coming from my mouth and didn't care, I was wasn't myself anymore. He quickened his pace with Randy and had pulled both breasts together with his other hand, wrenching them with his strong hand, multiplying the electricity between my hot mound and the rest of me. Between the vibe and his mouth the was little room for more inside me. He was thrusting into me working my wet pussy into a foamy lather that he promptly lapped up. I was coming but there was so much more to feel. He turned the vibe on low and I felt quake in me that didn't let up and I didn't want it to. The vibe was sending rivers of euphoria through every nerve ending in my body. And the rhythm of his thrusts were beating inside me coaxing a flow of juices out of me and down my crack to the fur under my ass. He let go of my breasts to push my legs up from the back of my knee. He pushed my ass off the fur and began licking my hole with his winding tongue throwing me into a dirty lustful wanting for something to enter me back there. He let go of my legs just long enough to douse the flames of my horny ass with lube. He lifted my ass off the bed and propped me up on his bent knees and resumed thrusting into me with Randy and was poking the head of his piston on my hungry ass. I wanted his cock in my ass not knowing what it would feel like. I didn't care what it felt like I wanted everything he had. I wanted to get stuffed and have every hole adding to my already compounding orgasm. He was pushing into me hard with his cock while ravaging my pussy with my usually docile vibrator. I was screaming at the top of my lungs for something he had, something more I wanted, and he knew exactly what it was.
He pushed his cock harder and I felt him enter me slightly and I wanted more, I was coming harder than I had ever thought possible feeling myself gush with liquid all around the jack hammering he was doing. My legs instinctively rose in the air in anticipation for his hot cock to bottom out in my ass. He thrust deep into my ass and I gasped and shuddered at the intense orgasm that was obviously peaking. I was squeezing my breasts hard and relishing in the sweet pain they were sending. He began bucking into my ass hard now and matching the lightening speed of the dildo in my pussy. I was gasping at the unbearable pleasure I was receiving from this royal treatment. I could feel the aching in my breasts and pussy, the raw painful pleasure produced with every thrust into my ass. I was unable to comprehend where each one of these wonderful feelings was from, but I loved them all. I felt his cock rise slightly and knew he was going to come, feeling this sent me away from my body and for a minute or two all of me was having an orgasm. When I returned he had spasmed in me and was laying next to me rubbing the vibrator over my nipples. He remarked at how languid I was while I was coming. It was almost incoherent but I soon realized who I was and how excellent my journey with him had been. He said he was going to go wash and went to the bathroom to change into his new costume.
I laid there unable to move and left the blind fold on and was almost asleep when he returned. I heard the bathroom door open a minute later and was horrified at what I heard. "Mommy will you take my temperature?" he said in a high child like voice. I sat up with a start and ripped the night mask off with a snap. And there standing before me was my 42 year old husband adorned with a diaper and a bonnet. He had a soother around his neck and a rather large looking plastic thermometer.
My son Quentin and I live alone now and occasionally Randy makes a trip out of the nightstand beside the bed. I think I need to get Randy someone else to play with. After all, I do have two hands.