Back to basics

Sometimes I yearn to strip our sex down to the bare bones.  All I need is the basics:  his naked body on my naked body.  No toys, no porn, no extra play.  Just him.  Just me.

Foreplay is short.  I’m wet just from the mere proximity to him.  A few hurried kisses and then he’s on me.  He enters me effortlessly and knows exactly what to do.  Though we’ve done this a thousand times, this night is no less exciting.  We’re feeding off each other’s excitement.  I know he’s close to orgasm, he knows I’m close.  He stops for a moment to prolong our ecstasy.  I’m dying to come but also not wanting this moment to end.  I love feeling the weight of him on me.  Nothing feels more right to me than this simple act.  He is inside of me, I look up at him, and all is right with the world.  It’s cliche, I know, but he plays me like an instrument.  He knows how much, when, and where to thrust to drive me absolutely insane with desire and lust.

We continue this dance a while longer.  Hovering at the edge of release, lost in each other.  But then I can no longer stand the wait.  He tries to slow down, pulling back a bit so he can postpone the inevitable.  I won’t let him stop.  I push my hips up to meet him, begging with my body for him to stay close.  He comes and then seconds later I am coming, crushing myself towards him.  There is something magical about coming at the same time.  I am rocked once again with the reminder that I can come so hard from “plain old” missionary sex.  With nothing more than his body he manages to make the ordinary anything but.

A lovely Sunday

Smells of pancakes, bacon, and coffee fill the house.

Sun shining on golden maple leaves.

Nude photos in the sunlight.

Afternoon sex on the couch in a stolen moment.

Delicious relaxation after orgasm.

Cute knee socks over freshly shaved legs.

Heading out on a beautiful fall day to shop alone for a bit.

Laughter of happy children echoing outside.

All this and the day’s only half over.

Happy birthday, Alec!

I’m late in posting this (should have put it up this morning) but I wanted to wish my sweet, sexy husband a happy birthday.

How many spankings for the birthday boy?

This is love

We were doing some cleaning up today and I came across an anniversary card from Alec.  It reads:

(front)
Sometimes when we’re lying in bed,
I look over at you and think,
“I am so lucky.”

(inside)
Then you start snoring in that snorty way,
and I think,
“Well, that’s annoying,
but I’m still lucky.”

That’s just one of the reasons that Smart Alec is such a perfect moniker for my sweet husband.

Embrace

Thirteen years

Thirteen years ago I said, “I do.”

Thirteen years ago I pledged my love.

Thirteen years ago he became my husband.

Thirteen years ago it was a gorgeous day, just like today.

Thirteen years ago I laughed and twirled in my beautiful dress.

Thirteen years ago he looked so handsome in his tuxedo.

Thirteen years ago I danced in a room full of people but saw only him.

Thirteen years ago I had no idea what lay ahead of us.

Thirteen years ago seems like yesterday.

Thirteen years ago I had no clue that thirteen years later, I’d love him even more than I did on that day.

Happy 13th anniversary to the man I love.

I’m the lucky one

The previous entry, Curves, was posted by Alec, unbeknownst to me.  It was a fun surprise and lovely compliment from him.  He makes me feel beautiful and sexy.  He makes me feel wanted.  When my confidence in myself is lacking, he boosts me up.  He knows I’m hard enough on myself regarding my appearance and has never once made a comment about my weight, even if he wanted to.  When I think I don’t measure up to other women, he reminds me I don’t have to compare myself to them.

He still flirts with me.
He makes me laugh every day.
The scent of him makes me weak.
He is a loving and thoughtful husband.
He adores his children and is an excellent father.

I am the lucky one.