Hand-ling A Sexless Marriagebywhoruwhoami©
So once again my husband left on a business trip without any kind of intimate good bye. A kiss on the cheek and he was out the door. Our marriage was becoming sexless and I was starting to wonder if Ryan was having an affair. For that matter, I was beginning to wonder why I wasn't. I mean, I did love my husband, but a girl has needs too. Still, I just wasn't the kind of person who could cheat on her spouse. Therefore I needed an alternate outlet for my physical cravings.
It was evening, and the start of a weekend, so since I had no need to get up in the morning, I simply took a long relaxing bath and read a cheap romance novel to help get myself in the mood. It may seem silly, but after the bath, I had already dressed in my usual sleepwear out of habit (pajama pants and a camisole) before realizing that I didn't need clothes for what I wanted to do. I spread out my robe, made of the softest, cuddliest fleece I had ever felt, over the bed, creating a small nest for myself. The robe had been a gift from Ryan the previous Christmas, and as that thought crossed my mind, I didn't feel horny anymore. I just felt depressed.
I threw the book against the wall in sudden frustration and covered my face with my hands, fighting tears. Why was my life like this? Ryan and I had once had such a passionate relationship, from shortly after we met in college, through the couple of years until we married, and then for a year or so after that. Even then, while things in the bedroom became somewhat more infrequent, we still had sex a few times a month. It was only the past year or so that our sex life seemed to have died.
It did seem that we had opposite active cycles. When I was feeling in the mood and I would try to express interest, Ryan just didn't reciprocate. On the other hand, whenever he tried to come onto me it seemed it was always late at night before I would have some important morning meeting or I'd be on my period and really crampy and I'd brush him off. Thinking on this, I began to wonder what had happened to us. In college, neither of us thought twice about skipping class just to have sex.
Hell, I had called in late to my part-time job at school more than once just because I was so desperate for Ryan I knew I couldn't wait the four hours to feel him inside me. I needed him immediately. It was always so hard to lie to my manager over the phone, as Ryan let his hands roam over my body and ran his tongue across the back of my neck. My whole body would be trembling in desire and I had to fight to keep my voice from quavering.
Oh, just remembering the feel of Ryan's hands was doing more to me than the book I had been reading. Before we had ever had sex, we had used our hands and mouths to explore each other, finding the spots that would bring out gasps or moans until we had both brought the other to orgasm. God how I longed to feel Ryan's lips and tongue all over my body again. Or his hands, I mused as I ran my own hands up my bare arms.
Moving back to sit on my robe, I closed my eyes and remembered all that I could from that time in our relationship. My lips could not simulate Ryan's, but my hands could take the place of his. The gentle firmness of his touch as he caressed my arms always made me shiver in anticipation of the pleasures to come, and it was no different now. The fine hairs on my arms rose on end as my...no, HIS hands moved up and down. Moving higher, they reached my shoulders, pulling the straps of my cami down out of the way. Then he began to massage them slowly and deeply. I moaned at the sensation and felt a tension I hadn't even realized was there begin to drain away.
The massage moved up to my neck for a minute or so, and then up through my dark hair to my scalp. As his fingers moved through my long hair, it fell all around my face, tickling my nose and shoulders, causing me to emit a small giggle which turned into a pleased sigh as his fingers massaged my head. As the hands returned to my neck and shoulders, I laid back, stretching my back and legs, luxuriating in the feel of it as the hands continued to work their magic.
A slight draft around my middle let me know that my cami had ridden up a little at my stretch. He took note of it too, and one hand moved to lightly run across the small bare strip of skin that was now revealed. The other hand moved to caress my face, fingers dancing lightly over my cheeks and forehead, tracing along my jaw, and I craned my neck to grant access to my throat and I felt the vibrations of my moan in his fingers as he accepted the invitation.
The cool air I felt on my stomach spread as the lower hand began to rub in small, but ever growing circles, pushing my top upwards a little more with each pass. Meanwhile I turned and sucked the thumb of the other hand into my mouth, running my tongue around it suggestively. I arched my back to allow my top to rise further up my body and soon I felt his fingers brushing the very bottom of my breasts.
As if that first touch was a signal, both hands moved and pulled at my cami, forcing it up and over my breasts until it was gathered around my neck. The cool air caused me to gasp for an instant and I felt my nipples harden a little before each breast was covered by a warm hand. A thumb slipped over one of my hard nubs and it was even cooler than before as my saliva wetted it. The other thumb was soon pressed against my lips and I sucked it in as well but a moment later it was sliding over my other nipple. I could feel both puckering as they reacted to the perceived coldness. God how I wanted a warm mouth to suck on them, but such was not to be.
His hands cupped by breasts, running fingers along the bottoms and then the sides while the thumbs continued to circle around my nipples. It was only now that I really noticed that the wet sensation on them was far outweighed by the wetness growing between my legs. But for the moment, my breasts demanded attention. His hands roamed over them, tweaking the nipples gently before moving down my sides, over my stomach and back up to my chest. But I noticed that each time his hands moved down to my stomach, they'd get a little lower and closer to my waist.
Finally his hands were brushing the waistband of my pajamas, his pinkies actually sliding under it and through the soft curls just beneath. On the next pass of his hands, he hooked his fingers over the waistband and tugged down. I arched my back and raised my hips (something he had told me was the most erotic motion he had ever seen) to let him slide my pajamas down. I kicked my legs to fully push them off and brought my feet to rest close to my ass, my legs spread wide.
The sharp feeling of cold between my legs let me know just how wet I was. I had soaked through my panties! With one last caress of my breasts, a final tweak of the nipples, his hands moved down my body. Tracing lazy waves with his fingers he just brushed my pubic hair before moving them to the side and around to my ass. His fingers dug into the soft flesh, kneading it like dough or clay and as he pulled my cheeks apart it sent a small ripple to my pussy, causing me to clench, hungry for something to clench around.
Moving higher, his hands slid up my outer thighs, over my knees, and down my shins, his thumbs pressing firmly into my calves. When he reached my feet and gave them a squeeze, he'd reverse the motion, but this time sliding his hands down my inner thighs. My hips rocked forward, eager to press my hot and hungry pussy against his strong hands, but he simply followed the line of my legs to get back to my outer thighs then around to my ass. Over and over he did this, sometimes moving his hands back up to run over my stomach and breasts or across my arms, sometimes even a quick caress of my face. Ultimately, though, he focused on my legs and ass but each time let his hands slide further between my legs.
I was panting with desire at this point, my hips bucking up to try to meet his hands each time almost involuntarily. Finally he hooked his fingers into my panties and pulled down. Again, in that very erotic motion, I raised up so he could remove my panties. A quick kick on my part sent them flying across the room and I just lay there and focused on the feeling of air moving across my pussy, the outer lips feeling so cold due to the wetness, but like an inferno inside.
I had to remove my top, lying bunched around my neck for far too long now. I wanted to be completely naked for the grand finale. Feeling nothing but the cool air around me, the warm, soft comfort of the robe beneath me, and warm, strong hands pleasuring me. And that is exactly what they proceeded to do. A single finger ran from the very base of my slit slowly, ever so slowly, gasthering wetness the whole way, up to my clit. I jerked when it finally made contact with my sensitive nub, and I marveled not for the first time how something so small could give so much pleasure.
Three or four times the finger did this, each time causing a spasm to shoot through my whole lower body and a gasp to escape my lips. The final time, the finger slid between my folds, oh so easily, and began to pump in and out. A second finger joined it moments later, and then fingers from the other hand began to circle my clit, wet from the earlier finger motions, in the way I liked. I could not hold back loud moans and cries as my entire body began to gyrate on the bed, the softness of the robe just adding to my enjoyment as came closer and closer to orgasm.
A moment before I peaked, the fingers left my clit, and while the two fingers still moved in and out of my pussy, curling up to reach the ribbed bit up top that felt so good when stimulated, it prevented me from cumming. A few seconds passed before they returned, circling my clit, causing me to gasp from the suddenness of the sensation. I was close, so very very close. But again, a split second before rapture engulfed me, the fingers left, and I groaned in agonized torment and in sheer, unadulterated bliss.
Words expressing my enjoyment fell from my lips in sharp pants and gasps, but I'm not sure what they were. Wordless cries followed when the fingers abandoned my clit once again. The only word I know for certain that I did say came after the fingers began their clitoral stimulation. The moment my orgasm was at the precipice of occurring and I realized the fingers were not going to stop this time, I yelled, "FUUUUUUUCK!"
I think only my feet and my upper back were touching the bed as my orgasm hit, the rest of my body pushing against the hands that were pleasuring it, trying to eke out every tiny bit of bliss, of rapture, of heaven. The hands never stopped their stimulation as my body became a living conduit of pleasure, taking me higher and higher. There was nothing in the world but this heavenly feeling shooting through my body, crashing through it with the force of a tidal wave.
And then, a short eternity later, it was over. Oh, I still felt GREAT, but I had descended from the peak that every woman wants and wishes to reach every time they have sex, but sadly do not always attain. My body flopped limply to the bed, two fingers still moving slowly inside me, the other hand that had stimulated my clit falling beside me. I rubbed my fingers and thumb together, idly noting how slick they still were. I was panting heavily, trying to catch my breath, recovering from what was the best orgasm I had had in a long time.
"Wow! So is this what happens when I go on a business trip?" I shrieked, literally jumping a foot in the air, my limbs sprawling as I jerked in surprise. Ryan was standing at the door, eyes wide, jaw hanging loosely. Heart thumping in my chest even more than it had already been, I grabbed a pillow (it being the closest thing at hand) and flung it at him as hard as I could.
"You ASSHOLE," I screamed, flinging another as he dodged the first missile. "You scared me half to death!" Ryan caught the second pillow and tossed it on the bed before he sat down. Somehow, I felt foolish, laying on the bed totally naked in front of my husband. I pulled up one end of the robe, though it was far too late for modesty and asked, "What are you doing here?"
Even though two pillows had nearly brained him, he hadn't taken his eyes off of my body. "Flight got delayed, won't be going out until tomorrow." He reached out and took the robe from my hand, letting it fall back to the bed. "Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?" My cheeks were already a bit pink from the orgasm, but they flushed fully at the unexpected compliment.
"No," I replied, "you haven't." Looking down, I could see the obvious bulge in his pants. I wondered how long he had stood there watching me, growing aroused, and how much he had wanted to touch me. "But instead of telling me," I grabbed his tie and used it to pull him on top of me, "why don't you show me." We kissed, and then he proceeded to do just that with his hands, his lips which I had craved earlier, and his cock.
We had the best sex that we had had in years. Even better, we managed to rekindle a spark in our lives that had almost extinguished. We relived the things we used to do in college, and shortly after we were married. When he returned from his business trip, after giving him a welcome home kiss, I dropped his pants and took him into my mouth without a word. Ryan took me to Paris on a second honeymoon a couple of months later, where we spent more time making love in the hotel room than looking around the sights. It was amazing how what was to be a simple act of masturbation turned our entire marriage around, but I have never been more thankful in my life.