Letter from hot empty nesters

Randy and Debbie tell me that now their three children are grown, they are rediscovering the joys of sex. I'll let them (mostly Randy) tell it from here:

I don't think we could ever handle the mental stress of anything physical outside of our marriage, but the images I/we get reading your blog together has put some rocket fuel in our romance with each other. It has been invigorating to me to discover that women with your mindset toward sex exist; I think Debbie regards you as somewhat strange and intriguing...

Sunday night several weeks ago, we were home finishing light chores and getting ready for Monday work week. Neither of us was particularly horny at that moment, but it was dinnertime and I wanted to eat without any hassles of preparation so we decided to go to a local favorite Italian restaurant and split a main course. On a whim, I suggested we pick out the clothes we wanted each other to wear just for fun and see where it might lead.

I had her dress in a white garter, with matching stockings and lace bra, then covered it with a nice blouse and slacks. She had me wear a black G string under nice jeans and polo shirt. Just as we left, I got the idea to grab a vibrating egg with remote on a wire and stuffed it in my pocket unbeknownst to her. We sat side by side in a booth and ordered a tasty chicken dish with wine.

As we waited and talked, I began to sneak crotch massages on her between waiter visits. She enjoyed it, but she was nervous, afraid of someone seeing my hand in her lap. However, when I pulled the egg out and began to massage her with that, it pleasantly surprised her and she relaxed more and enjoyed it. She took over the positioning of the toy and I kept my hands in my lap under the table. The egg is very quiet and much less obvious that anything is going on. "Keep it on low," she said, when I tried to increase it to the higher of four speeds. "It will keep me interested in just the right way". I complied and let it do its work while we sipped our wine and shared our food. By the time we were departing our brains had begun to release the magic chemicals, she was "bed ready" and so was I.

Now, I cannot explain my love for lingerie. I suppose it has something to do with seeing my mother wear it in the 50s and 60s and it leaving a mental imprint in my sexual development as a youngster. However, when Debbie gets down to her underwear of lacy bra and nylon hose and garter I am ready run over broken glass through a fence of barbed wire to get to her. Especially when I see that dark-haired pussy, peeking out between the garter straps. I want to lick and touch and rub her all over, most of all I want to eat and fuck her.

We shed clothes quickly once we got home. The foreplay was electric as we got down to our underwear. She was the first one to score crotch, taking my penis into and out of her mouth, sucking, swirling, squeezing, stroking, building my anticipation. I think my brain cells began to wire electrical connections to the nerve endings in my penis. The connections got stronger and faster. Information was flying back and forth between my mind and dick. I was reduced to a raging, throbbing, erection. My hands were wanting anything of hers erogenous that I could stimulate. I had to settle for her breasts for starters, knowing the grand prize will come soon.

Her bra came off and I began squeezing and rolling the nipples in my fingers finding the right amount of pressure to use, watching for signs of pain or pleasure from her. Finally, she moves and sits on my stomach. Leaning forward her torso became parallel to mine and her soft breast flesh fell within reach of my mouth. I sucked her hard, alternating between the majority of her breast and the pointed swollen nipples. Her twat was pressed into my stomach looking for contact of any kind. She continued moving up. My kisses now found her abdomen and coursed across the top of her garter, I love the silky feel of the garter fabric.

I had an urgent desire to get my mouth on her wonderful snatch. Eventually, my arms moved under her and grabbed her to raise her upright, aligning the opening of her garter above my longing lips and tongue. “You are so beautiful” I whispered to her. She was very moist and her pussy had a fresh clean smell, not too strong, and her flower pedals were already showing signs of engorgement. Debbie lowered that wonderful bush to my face, and I began to enjoy my dessert. She is wonderful to eat and soon her inner lips had swollen to the tightest I had ever remembered them to be. Her pussy was flared open and begging to be fucked.

I spun out from under her, pushed her into doggie position and began to shove my prick into her from behind. She moaned when I finally reached maximum penetration and began to thrust in and out. Debbie picked up the Hitachi magic wand, flicked it on low and pressed it to her clit as we continued fucking. I reached my right hand to her head and wove my fingers through her brown hair to the scalp and began to pull. My left hand grabbed her C cup tits hanging down and I massaged and squeezed them. The position was awkward for me, so it did not last long and I had to retreat and grab her hips. Nevertheless, the count down to lift off is now irreversible. She began to make a stifled screaming noise as her cunt clamped down on my swelling penis and I got the wonderful sensation that I could control this pleasure trip I was on with the speed of my thrusts, I raced to join her climax and soon begin pumping my semen toward the nether reaches of her pussy. My heart was pounding and oxygen seemed scarce for a few moments as my orgasm raged through me and into her. When she felt me cum it took her to a higher level and there was a fleeting moment when we both felt we had left the planet.

We both fell to our side and try to stay coupled as long as we could, savoring the preciousness of the moment. She was still quivering from aftershocks. Later before drifting off to sleep we shared a kiss and I looked into her eyes and said “Those Italians sure can cook”. We laughed together and resumed our tangle of arms and legs. Debbie and I lay touching in some fashion throughout the night sleeping fitfully and hoping we could recapture some of the same electricity in the morning. There are no words to express my feelings for her at that time. I just know I have a burning love for her that goes deep into my soul. I hate that I must pick myself out of bed the next day and go to work, but I do, and like an addict on drugs, I begin to think how I must have that experience with her again.

Debbie has become much more open sexually with me the last couple of years and it has revitalized our marriage. We have experienced things that we missed for 30 years, and now both wish we had been more open to trying and discussing new ideas in our sex life. The other day she described a masturbation session to me that she had had while I was at work. The thought of her stepping out and loving herself and then sharing it with me was a big turn on. It was an opening of her soul and was exclusive to me. Her questions like “Do you like it when I squeeze my breasts as you suck them and watch me” reveal the inhibition she has overcome in recent months. I love it of course. I love anything that heightens her pleasure and takes her to the land of orgasm. It is a curious thing to me that some men lack the motivation to make their love partner climax. They only focus on their own selfish needs.

I believe that sexually active women are generally programmed and even better psychologically equipped to make sure their partner’s needs are met, more so than men are. It amazes me when Debbie brings me to climax and then gently rebuffs my attempts to bring her to orgasm saying that she is fine and just wants to relax in the tenderness of the moment. I feel like I have stolen from her and not returned the loving favor, but she is insistent that she is quite content. I can count on one hand the number of times that I have turned the tables and climaxed her without a reciprocal orgasm.