Anal Stories: Cynthia , Jordan

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** The ad was on the fourth page of the newspaper’s classified section. Small print, no header. Dr. Ana Von Gaarten, Ph.D. is seeking stories of anal sex for a sex study. Must be personal and must be well-detailed. If the story is accepted for inclusion into the study, the writer will receive $1,000 dollars and will be required to sign a waiver for publication purposes. Send replies to P.O. Box 745, New York, New York … **

Dr. Von Gaarten,

It’s been seven weeks since our baby was born and my husband has not touched me since. I think that he looks at me as the mother of his baby instead of his lover. Doctor, I am still both! I am still a woman who wants to be fucked!

I’m sorry for venting on you but I’ve run out of things to try. If this doesn’t work, well … let’s just say that I’m hoping to save my marriage with this. Wish me luck!

My lovely son, Chase, was born seven weeks ago after a long hard labor and a vaginal delivery. He was a big baby, nearly ten pounds, and as a result, my uterus and vaginal area were quite large. The doctor told me that things would tighten back up down there and that I could have sex again in six weeks. That didn’t turn out to be the problem. It was my husband, Jordan.

When Chase was born, Jordan fell head-over-heels in love with him. I didn’t have a problem with that. It was so wonderful to see him watching TV and holding Chase as he slept or change his diapers and sing to him. I was in heaven or so I thought. The weeks went by and after putting the baby down to sleep, I took a long shower, put on a brand new negligee, inserted my diaphragm and went to bed with the plan to seduce my husband. I slid under the covers and started rubbing his chest, letting my hand drift south and he stopped me immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, honey. I just don’t want to make love.”

“Why not?” I kissed the back of his neck and bit his shoulder. I knew that would get him interested. “It’s been six weeks. Dr. Schecter said that everything was back in working order … “

“I … I just don’t want to make love, Cyn.”

That was the end of it that night. He turned back over onto his side and went to sleep. I cried myself to sleep. I tried again the next night and got the same results. No interest. The third night, he didn’t even come to bed. He sent me to bed with a kiss and I found him asleep with Chase on the recliner. I even tried to give him a blowjob and he looked at me like I was a whore. Finally, I cornered him on the way to work and told him that we needed to talk.

“Cyn, you’re the mother of my child.”

“I’m well aware of that, Jordie! But I need you.”

He just stared at me, then looked down. “I can’t, Cyn. I can’t stick my dick into the place where you gave birth to my son. Gosh, do you know what you’ve done? What a miracle that birth is? You’ve given me something more precious than anything I’ve ever had! I can’t stick my dick into it and dirty it!”

I was stunned. So stunned that I don’t really remember the rest of the day. My marriage was over. How could it not be? My husband couldn’t look at me as a sexual being any more. It would only be a matter of time before he would go outside of our marriage for satisfaction. Jordan tried to talk to me but I couldn’t speak to him. What would I say to him? How could I look at him without wanting him? Without remembering how hard he used to pound my pussy, which was exactly what I wanted now!

A few days ago, I went to a website that answered questions about sex and told them my story. I was surprised to find that this happens to a lot of men, where they bursa escort become so reverent of the mother of their child that they can no longer see her as a sexual person. The answer came back with a Plan of Seduction. I was plan a romantic evening. The baby would have to be out of the house because his crying at an inopportune moment would remind my husband that I was the mother and the whole idea was to weave magic, to capture him in a spell that would make him forget.

And so I planned. My mother, who had been chomping at the bit to baby-sit, eagerly agreed to take Chase and I had no qualms, knowing that he was in capable hands. I knew Jordan would be late coming from work so I had plenty of time to fix his favorite meal of grilled filet mignon steaks, Parmesan rice and salad, then lit a fire and made a blanket pallet in front of it along with a roll of toilet paper, a bottle of baby oil and a vibrator that had become my best friend. When Jordan walked in the door, everything was in place.

“Hi, honey.” I handed him a cold Foster’s, took his briefcase and went back into the kitchen.

“Uh, hi.” He followed me into the kitchen, loosening his tie. I could tell that he was already not comfortable with the romantic atmosphere but I ignored him. “What’s up?”

“Parents Night Out.” I poured dressing on the salad and started tossing it, pausing to add some pepper. “Chase is at Mom’s.”

“Well, I’ll go get him.”

“No.” I said sternly. “He’s spending the night with his grandma. He hasn’t had a chance to bond with her since we brought him home. We’ve been hogging all his time and he deserves it.”

“Cyn, he’s a little baby. She doesn’t know how to take care of him.”

I expected this. “She did give birth to me and my five other siblings, Jordie. In my eyes, she’s over-qualified since Chase is our first.” And last if this didn’t work. “Now go get out of that suit. Dinner’s ready.”

He stood there for a long time. I didn’t look at him, just made myself busy with the salad. This was the deciding point. Either he’d go change or he’d go to Mom’s, looking for Chase. I held my breath and waited. He set the beer down and I heard his shoes click away, moving toward the door, then turning down the hallway. He was going to change. I had finished setting the table when he returned in pajama bottoms. He fell to our before baby ritual, heading to the sink to wash his hands, then opened the bottle of chardonnay that I had left out for dinner.

“Smells good. Did you make your famous cheese rice?”

I nodded, setting the salad bowl on the table and pulling the steaks out of the oven. Jordan took the plate of steaks and set them out, followed by the wine and the garlic bread that I’d sliced. The last item was the rice which I spooned into a bowl and handed to him. We sat down and had a marvelous dinner. The food was fantastic and the mood was romantic, if not a little still tense. We talked like we used to and he told me about the other women in the office who were pregnant and how beautiful they were, carrying children.

“Well, you’ll never see me like that again.”

My comment caught him off-guard and I pretended like I didn’t really care about what I’d said. But I knew that he’d heard it and was thinking about what it meant to him. “You wouldn’t want to have another baby?”

“How can I? You don’t want to make love to me. It’ll be an immaculate conception.”

I kept pretending that I still didn’t care and arose to start cleaning the table. When I came back to get some more plates, he was sitting back in the chair, sipping the wine, his eyes downcast. It took bursa escort bayan me three more trips to get everything and he was in the same position each time. It was sinking in, that was good. But I didn’t just want him to want to make love to me to procreate, I wanted him to make love to me because he wanted me! Because he wanted to fuck me!

While I put the food away, he got another bottle of wine and refilled our glasses. “Wanna sit by the fire … ” His voice continued shyly. “Like we used to?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of dishes to wash.”

He took my hand and placed the full wineglass in it. “Leave them. I’ll do them later when you go to bed. Now come on.”

“Okay.” I secretly hoped that I wouldn’t be going to bed alone. We sat by the fire and joked and laughed like we used to. The wine and our closeness were gradually wearing his worry away and I was happy to feel him touch my hands, stroking the backs. We finished the second bottle and he went for a third. I took the opportunity to take my robe off, showing my nightgown, not as romantic as the other, but just lacy and ordinary. I didn’t want to make him think that this was a planned seduction … even though it was.

“I don’t think I want any more wine.”

“Why not?” He brought the bottle over.

“Because it makes me horny. You know that.”

He refilled our glasses again and I noticed his eyes falling on my fat, pink nipples and the other bits of flesh that he could see through the lace. “Don’t worry about it, hon.” He sat back down, but this time, sat further away from me. This was not going well. We drank the rest of the bottle in silence, watching the flames but far apart. I got up to use the bathroom and when I came back, he was hastily trying to tuck his hard cock back into his pajamas. A ray of hope spiked through. I pretended not to see him and sat down on the pallet, facing him and leaning back against the couch. Time for the show.

I stretched, letting the nightgown ride up over my legs, exposing my creamy thighs and just hinting at my hidden golden triangle of pussy. I glanced at Jordan through half-closed eyes and saw him looking. I stretched again and the fabric slipped higher, sliding my hand just under the hem and finding my damp slit. I hadn’t lied about the wine making me horny. When my finger plunged past the thick outer folds, I found a waiting pool of juice that broke like a bubble and leaked down to my asshole. I gave a shuddering sigh as I moved my finger up to rub my growing clit, arching as a bolt of pure pleasure went through me.

“Cyn.” I heard his voice but it seemed from far away and was filled with as much want as mine would have been if I could speak. I circled my clit again, then gave it a quick mash, jerking again with the sensation. “Cyn.” Quieter, this time and with an underlying tremble. I opened my eyes to see Jordan sitting across from me, his pajama bottoms gone and his prick in his hand. He reached out to touch me and I nodded.

“No. Don’t touch me.”

I pulled the vibrator from its hidden spot and turned it on, rubbing the soft, rounded tip over my clit and driving a scream from my lips as I came. I pushed my hand under the nightgown and pulled on my nipple, squeezing at the same time. It felt so good and I could feel Jordan’s eyes on me. I ran the vibrator’s head around the opening of my pussy, pressing the lips open and showing him that my cunt overfloweth.

“Oh, God, Cyn. That’s not fair!”

I pressed the vibrator’s tip into my hole, slowly, giving Jordan an eyeful. I closed my eyes and heard his breathing hitch when the toy sank escort bursa into me, its quivering bottom buzzing me quickly towards another orgasm. I pushed the nightgown over my head, keeping a couple fingertips on the vibrator, tugging it in and out and letting my body respond to it. “Oh, God.” I breathed, increasing the pace and mercilessly mashing my clit. I wanted his tongue on my clit instead. That had been one of his favorite pastimes, sucking my clit and pumping me with the toy. “Yes. Oh, yes, here it comes! Oh! Oh! OH!”

I squealed as I came, grinding the vibrator into my pulsing pussy and pinching my nipple, sliding onto my back. I barely moved as Jordan pulled the vibrator out and a thrill shot through me as I watched him tentatively take a taste of it. I tasted no different. I saw that reaction as he licked it hungrily, then dipped two fingers in my quim, licking them thoroughly. I shivered at the sight but I saw that tears hovered in his eyes and I knew that he couldn’t. Not just yet.

Without a word, I reached for the bottle of baby oil and put it in his hands. He just stared at me for a moment, then comprehension blossomed on his face, quickly followed by uncertainty. I raised my legs, exposing my asshole and gave him a small nod. Jordan’s hands were shaking as he squirted some oil on my ass and sat back on his haunches, stroking that beautiful tool. His eyes met mine and I closed my eyes, sighing in relief and happiness. I saw what I was looking for in the beauty of his eyes.

I heard the vibrator buzz back into life and he pulled me down so that I was completely flat on the floor. “Close your eyes.” I did so and nearly cried when his mouth covered one of my hard nipples, running his teeth across and making my body arch into his hands. He left a saliva trail as he headed to the other breasts and within seconds, I was whimpering and begging him to take me. He did.

I felt like I was being split by a log. I bore down a little to open myself and gasped in pleasure as he slid inside me, gently working his stiff prick in to the hilt. I trembled. He flexed himself inside me and I came. I couldn’t help it, especially when he pressed his fingers against my clit.

“God, Cyn. Stop!”

I groaned, giving myself over to the rippling of my pussy. My husband’s cock was buried inside my ass and I was cumming. There was no way I could or would stop now. “Fuck me, Jordie!”

His first stroke was slow and shy. His second awakened and confident. His third dominant and lust-filled. He gave me about fifteen steady strokes before applying the vibrator to my still aching pussy, jabbing it at my swollen clit.

“Jordie!” He moved farther forward, lifting my hips into his lap and leaving my shoulders on the floor. His cock moved deeper into me, if that was possible, then he deftly slid the buzzing toy into my pussy. “Oh, God, yes!”

Jordan didn’t last too long before he was plunging into me with his cock and fingers, exploding as he licked my pussy cream like Cool Whip and smiled into my eyes. I nearly passed out again, fluttering on that razor edge of sweet oblivion and breathtaking bliss. Jordan didn’t say a word. He pulled me close and held me there, sobbing against my neck.

“I’m so sorry, Cyn. I … “

“We’ll work through it, Jordie.” I rubbed his back, savoring the feeling of his cum oozing out of my ass. “But I’m still your wife and I’m still Chase’s mother.” I pulled his head up to meet his eyes. “And I’m still a woman above all. I still need to know that you know that, too.”

Jordan spent the rest of the evening convincing me that he had not forgotten that. The third time was the charm. As the sun arose in the sky, he entered my pussy and fucked me harder than he ever had.

If we have a daughter this time, doc, we’ll make sure to name her Ana.

Cyn, Jordie & Chase

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