He was right. My husband Mark was always right. That was all I could focus on at the moment as I was getting a total drilling by Chris Baker. I was being taken in such a pure and carnal way and I never thought it could be so uplifting. It was an experience like I had never had before. Chris was pounding me over and over and over again and I had totally surrendered and welcomed it. I was completely given into this moment and whatever he wanted. I had always enjoyed being the object of desire, but this moment came with some new but hard to explain wanton. It was for just pure sex and I had never allowed that before. I was always guarded, but not now. My guard was down and I was taking every single thrust while being filled up by, what turned out to be, a very thick cock as he buried himself into me over and over again.
I gave Mark a final chance to call it off. My text explained where things stood and what was going to happen if he didn't stop it. I told him I wanted him to stop it. I've been telling him this for more than a year. I wanted the storybook. I wanted the perfect marriage. My sexuality was never supposed to be a leading role in that narrative. But like so many things, Mark laid it all out correctly. He knew I liked sex, but with kids and work and responsibilities, I had turned off all my dials. After our 16-year marriage, there really wasn't the kind of dicking down between us anymore that I was currently getting. Oh, it was always nice when we occasionally found time to be together. He made love to me and I loved him for it. But, the fucking I was getting could only be found in the new stage of being with someone. It was a new exploration and it was hot.
Mark said it would be and right now he was probably with his own dick in hand thinking about what I was doing. He would welcome me back home from this conference in a couple days and I would share myself with him again with a new sense of identity. With a renewed sense of confidence and sexual freedom I would give myself to him like I did in our early days. Mark would fuck me like those days as well. His woman was sexy. She was the object of desire for another. Something about that and his natural competitiveness would bring out the best in Mark and that would mean a renascence for us.
Now, though, it wasn't about that. Chris was having his way with me. Every time he moved me to a new position I relished it. Chris first entered me in a missionary position. Even though I was ready to feel him inside of me, it took a few moments as he patiently stretched me open. I wrapped myself around him as he finally fully entered me. I felt all of him. I felt our pelvic bones press. I felt the weight of his muscular body on me. I felt that familiar tingle of my clitoris. Once adjusted, Chris began to rock his body in me. His meaty hands pulled my hips toward his body with each thrust. Those early magical moments seemed so far away as we have moved to different positions time and time again.