Shhh…

The most erotic moments of my life are when I see my wife taking the silky material from her drawer that she uses exclusively for one purpose.  She wraps it around herself several times, usually when she is (otherwise) naked.  It is a long scarf, but a perfect fit.  I am literally unable to take my eyes off of her.  The way it frames her face intensifies the eye contact as she gazes back at me.

After adjusting it a few more times, she’ll again look right at me.  I’ve been stroking myself, but as she moves closer I begin stroking her naked form.  I make sure to keep my actions a little unpredictable, varying the speed, intensity, pressure, and location of my touch. It might stay on her thigh, where I usually begin, or move to her nipples as they get hard. Or I might return the favor of the hand job she’s giving me.  Sometimes I’ll advertise what I’m about to do, sometimes not, or I’ll start one thing and shift quickly to something else.

I continue stroking her, giving her some seductive ‘manly’ talk, preparing her and me for a good ‘ravishing’ and then ‘rescue’ her, in that order.  No one else and nothing else even exists for me—for us—in those moments.

This is a recurring story of our love life, based on actual bedroom events.  And at night when all is quiet, when she is all talked out from the day and from her job, which is anything but easy and requires a lot of talking, she needs it quiet.

That’s where I come in.  She’s a woman; she likes to talk, needs it. But sometimes she’s talked enough and often has difficulty stopping even when she wants to.  In those moments, she’ll let me do the talking, that seductive manly talk that she loves.  I know it’s happening when, after I’ve put a finger or a hand to her lips, she heads for the drawer again and gets that wisp of silk ready.

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