Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
I’m writing this story on the advice of my therapist. It’s deeply embarrassing and very difficult to admit to all of the messed-up things I’ve done in the last few years. Humiliating, self-destructive things. I pretty much ruined my life, in fact. My doctor said putting it all down in writing would be a first step towards dealing with it. I’m not so sure. I’ve lost my wife and my family, my job, most of my friends. I’ll probably never get them back. But maybe this story will help, I don’t know. Perhaps it will at least serves as a warning to others that uncontrolled lust can be a beautiful but destructive force.
I’ve learned in therapy that everybody tries to blame their parents for all the things that are wrong with them and I’m no different. I was raised with a very strict, fundamentalist religious upbringing in a tiny town a million miles from anywhere. No TV, almost no radio. Booze and card playing were taboo. Anything to do with sex was so totally off limits that I was barely aware of the subject until I was almost 20 years old. It started with a ban on being naked. We always had to wear something, even in the bath. I’m in my 40s today, and I’ve still never seen my father naked. There was of course no sex education. Sex was literally unmentionable, although my parents managed to instill in me an unspoken threat that sex was something for which we would eventually pay some horrible price, in this life or the next.
Today, I can vouch for that.
So that’s the first place I point my blaming finger. It’s the forbidden stuff that is the most irresistible, right? I remember finding a Playboy in a stack of old newspapers. I was probably already 18 by then. What I saw almost made me pass out from excitement. I had no idea about sex, and I wasn’t looking at these women and thinking what it would be like to fuck them. I didn’t even know what fucking was. What made my heart beat faster was the fact that these beautiful women would take off their clothes in front of someone. And they looked like they enjoyed it. Not that they were smiling. But the looks in their eyes, the way their mouths were slightly open … I knew they liked what they were doing. And I was strangely overwhelmed with feelings that I wanted to do the same.
For a long while after that, probably until I was almost 20, thinking about sex for me meant thinking about women stripping, and then getting naked myself. I would shut myself in my room and pretend to do a strip tease, sometimes in front of my mirror. My cock would be as hard as a rock, throbbing with my racing heartbeat. illegal bahis But because I was so uneducated about sex, I didn’t even know what to do with it. I just danced around until it was time to go have something to eat, or someone called me on the phone. Then I would be pulled back into reality, put my cock away and get back to a normal life.
You may find this hard to believe, but I learned about masturbation completely by accident when I was already 20 years old. I was lying naked under a sheet in my bed, my rigid penis pressing up against the soft material, pretending that I was putting on a little strip show in one of my fantasies. As I slowly pulled the sheet down to reveal my erection to my imaginary audience, the pleasure I felt got stronger and stronger. I held the sheet more and more tightly as I drew it down the length of cock and just as I was imagining the amazement and thrill of my audience that I was willing to show them my excitement, the muscles in my penis clenched with pleasure, my legs tensed, I gasped, and a large pearl of fluid appeared at the head of my twitching erection.
I was dumbfounded! I really had no idea what was going on. In fact, despite the incredible sensation of having had my first orgasm, I was actually freaked out but what I thought might be a horrible problem.
After that, I did some research, surreptitiously at the local library, feeling like a pervert for looking up words like “ejaculation” and “sperm.” This was the beginning of a whole new chapter in my life. For the first time, I learned what sex was all about. Not just the definitions and mechanics, but also that it was something that lots of people thought was perfectly OK to do. In fact, some people even said sex was something you should do! I was totally blown away.
Despite all that, for the next few years I had a pretty normal life, with girls I mean. I had some girlfriends and I had a pretty normal sex life. I mean, based on what I know now, it was pretty tame. Simple missionary position, in bed, at night, in private.
At the same time, I had this parallel sex life in which I continued to jerk off, imagining myself as a nude model. I know it sounds weird, but that was my fantasy. Although I had a throbbing boner to prove my gender, my fantasies always involved me stripping in front of strangers as though I were one of the women I had seen in that Playboy magazine. I’d seen gay porn in the meantime, and I didn’t get any thrill from seeing a guy with a hard-on. In fact, even straight porn didn’t really do anything for me. It was old-fashioned illegal bahis siteleri cheesecake-type pin-ups and posing that got me turned on. Busty girls, a little plump but not fat, lots of firm curves.
Anyway, that’s not really the point of my story. That’s just to give you some background for what happened after I’d been married for a few years.
You won’t be surprised to read that my wife was one of those luxurious pin-up types. Big boobs and broad hips, but also a narrow waist and shapely legs. Blond with big blue eyes, a full mouth and a big bright smile. Sweet and sexy at the same time.
But Linda was also from a super-strict religious background and our sex was very tame. We didn’t talk about it and never complained. But I often thought about things that made me feel guilty, and horny, as hell.
For example, I’d sometimes pretend to be a peeping tom when she was under the shower. I’d open the bathroom door a crack and watch through the fogged up shower door how the water ran down over her full breasts. I had the same kind of fantasies with her as I’d had with myself before. In other words, I imagined that she was putting on a strip and shower show for some strangers, which gave me such an incredible hard-on that it would take only one or two strokes before I’d shoot my cum against the door, my legs trembling. Then I’d have to scramble to clean up the mess before she finished her shower. Sometimes I barely made it in time and would have to stay in another room while my erection subsided so that she wouldn’t see how excited I’d been.
Things only changed after we’d already been married for 10 years. I was 31 and she was 27. It was a Thursday evening in September, I remember. I prepared a nice meal at home to celebrate and for once we decided to have a little wine. In fact, we ended up splitting a bottle, which was a lot for us. There was lots of giggling and flirting and we eventually tumbled into bed. She landed on top of me and started grinding against my quickly growing cock. We tore at each other like wild animals. I think I even popped a couple of buttons off her blouse in my feverish efforts to get my hands on those big tits of hers.
I remember the next part very clearly, as she sat up briefly, reaching behind her back to undo her bra. I was looking up at her, and there was some yellow light coming into our dark bedroom from a street lamp outside. The light caressed her beautiful curves, and as her bra fell away and her full breasts spilled out, I blurted out, “I wish I could share this view with someone.”
Linda canlı bahis siteleri froze fort just a fraction of a second, and then pushed herself down onto my hard-on with even more frenzy. I quickly slid into her, soaking wet, and she moaned loudly.
I reached up and squeezed her full tits in my two hands, brushing my thumbs over her thick, hard nipples.
“You’re too beautiful to keep to myself,” I whispered hoarsely. She was bucking on me, riding up and down my shaft, grunting and gasping. I’d never seen her like this in all our 10 years together.
I’d only been inside of her for a few moments and I was getting close to cumming. It was happening much too fast for Linda and I turned to the window to try and distract myself. I saw a small gap in the curtain and the top of the street lamp beyond the garage.
I thought about peeking through the bathroom door as she showered. “Would you like it if someone was watching you?” I asked quickly as she panted above me.
She didn’t answer, but closed her eyes and pushed down harder on my cock.
“I wish someone was watching you right now,” I whispered. “Watching your beautiful tits bouncing in my hands, your round thighs holding me tight.”
She moaned quietly. She looked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t quite bring herself to get the words out.
The wine gave me some additional encouragement. “I want to show you off, Linda,” I said. I grabbed her broad hips and pulled her down roughly onto my hard-on. “I want to strip you and show you to someone else.”
I pumped up into her for all I was worth and she put her head down next to mine as I felt my climax building.
“Maybe there’s someone watching right now,” I gasped. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She whimpered, and I think I heard her squeeze out a muffled, “Yes,” before we both exploded into earth-shattering orgasms.
We lay quietly in each other’s arms for a long time after that, dozing and then waking briefly. There was an awkward silence when we were both awake, but we eventually fell asleep.
The next day, we didn’t say anything about it. The whole episode was way too embarrassing for either one of us to even mention, let alone discuss. We just pretended it never happened.
The problem was, of course, that it had happened, and it changed everything. The next time we made love, we were both so self-conscious, both of us obviously thinking about what had happened the time before but unwilling to talk about it, that we actually had to give up. We groped each other awkwardly for a few minutes, then just stopped and rolled away from each other. Neither one of us could go back to the way things had been before.
And that’s when things really changed for us.
(To be continued)
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32