Welcome back to Happy Endings, where I (a sextech marketer and monogamous married mother of two) wax about contemporary love and provide an honest, relationship peep show.
This post is my monthly extra-intimate story from my marriage (shared slightly earlier than usual. I guess I’ve been horny this month?). Paid subscribers enjoy these, plus Praxxxis (dropping every other Thursday).
I love your whisker burn on my lips, I thought, but didn’t say. It was a Saturday afternoon. Our kids were building a Duplo castle in front of us. I held onto those tender lips, and the memory of when I got them — sitting on his lap, making out — through a trip to Trader Joe’s and the park, through dinner and bath time, until after the kids fell asleep.
Then I found him in the same spot where I’d straddled him in the afternoon sun, and I took my place again, knowing I could do all I’d imagined since the last time we sat there.
I put my hands on my husband’s cheeks, then kissed him long, slow and deep, grinding my hips into his stomach with each lip smack.
“What was that for?” he said.
I slid backward, off his thighs, past his knees, to sit on the rug before him. I put my hands on his knees and looked at his freshly shaved face, which is never fully shorn. His cheekbones looked so high when not covered by more than 1mm of hair.
“Why are you being so cute?” he said, shifting in his seat.
I looked at his gray sweat shorts. His erection showed through. It was long, thick, and slightly curved.
I gasped. “Fuck,” I said. The sight made me choke on my saliva. “Take these off,” I said.
His cock bounced free. It looked soft and dry. I wanted to taste it.
