His fingers tantalised my mind with their innuendo. Each movement penetrated my consciousness with their provocation. I turned round and pulled his lips to mine. Our tongues tangled with each other. Arousal was complete. I ran my hands with wild abandon over his body with such intensity I felt my own moisture welling within me.
He disentangled himself from me and began kissing up and down my thighs. I writhed in abandoned delight. His hands moved gently to ease themselves inside my red bikini. I opended my legs slightly to let his thick fingers explore my aroused sex. I pushed hard against his fingers as they eased their way deep into my moisture. I pushed even harder against them, I groaned. He pulled his hands out and deftly began sliding my red pants down so he he see all of me. His fingers eased my lips apart so that my desire glistened in the sunlight. I groaned even more. He bent down and started kissing me there between my lips, my wet lips, wanton desire, his tongue licked deep within and around me; me his lips concentrated around my spot. He sucked hard on my erect bud, I moaned in delight.
His tongue continued to push hard against, in me. It explored me without compromise. I ached for more as his mouth seemed to devour my sex. I started to feel my passion trickle down my thigh. He reacted by placing his hands under my buttocks so he could taste me with even more desires, such an animal eagerness meant I came. My whole body cried out, it shuddered in delight as the waves of ecstasy swept over my body and between my groin. Oh his mouth, his gorgeous mouth was such an instrument of pleasure. I had to reciprocate.
I lifted my torso up and put my arms under his so I could begin kissing him. So much of my taste was on his lips it inspired me. I eased my hands down his trousers to feel the extent of his passion. His excitement wetted my fingers. Gradually I eased his trousers down to release his erect manhood. My caresses increased the intensity of his kisses until I pulled my mouth away from his lips so I could use my mouth in more pleasurable ways. His delight at my intimacy was equal to my desire to taste his with equal desire. I took him in my eager mouth and felt his desire throb between my lips. I caressed this desire with my own eagerness.
He shuddered and eased himself out of my mouth and eased me down on my back. He kisses continued to embrace me with such intensity I began to quiver uncontrollably until I my orgasm raced into every sinew of my electrified body. It was then he brought himself on top of me and eased himself into my eagerness. I kissed him with such wild abandon I lost myself in the moment as his rhythmic penetrations ran deep within. All the time his hands were all over me, while his hands kissed the nape of my neck, my nipples my mouth, biting, teasing, nibbling until the crescendo of my third orgasm married simultaneously with his.
As the pleasure subsided he remained within me. I ran my fingers along his back and felt the heat of the sun on his skin. This warmth ran along my fingers and up my arms. I was satisfied more than I’d ever been before…..my goodness the pleasure given by married men…….
We didn’t stay in the pub for long as we both had something on our minds.
It was obvious, self-evident in the furtive way we kept catching each other’s eye. Desire overwhelms absolutely. The casual brushes against the skin ignite the imagination. We made our arrangements and parted without a kiss so as to give nothing away.
As I was coming down the stairs in my house the door bell rang. It was him. My stomach fluttered with excitement. It was him. In the intervening time I had showered and changed into something more appropriate for balmy summer’s evening. I covered my red bikini with a long white dress; its fresh and airy feel complemented my feminine sensibilities. While underneath my little red bikini reflected the desire and passion burning within.
I took the bottle of wine out of your hand offering to place in the fridge to cool down and suggest a cup of tea while the wine cools off.I take through the hall and kitchen to we could sit outside in my secluded south-facing garden. Evening though it was early evening the sun continued to burn in the sky. We sat beside each other. We chat about our lives, laugh and flirt a little. The atmosphere is warm and sincere, yet beneath I felt our desires burning with so much intensity I shuddered in its heat. The excitement is the anticipation.
Every now and again, we’d touch each other, casually across the hand, on the shoulder, discreetly yet discerningly; anything for intimate contact. I notice how his glances towards my breasts become more regular. My top is firm, my breasts are held firm by my red bikini. I cross and uncross my legs to tease him with glances of my red bikini pants. He’s aroused. I smile; I know he’s reading my mind. I get out of my chair and brush against me saying I’ll return with the wine and a corkscrew. I’m aching within.
I return, with two glasses, the wine dressed and my red bikini. My long white dress lay scattered across the kitchen floor. He casts a knowing smile at me as he pours the wine. He teases me with a casual remark about the need for suntan lotion in this heat. I ask him to put some on me as long as he doesn’t mind. He lifts himself out of his seat and swallows a big up gulp of wine before picking up the lotion.
He pours the white creamy liquid over my back. His large firm hands press deep into my skin with the soothing liquid. I gently gasp as his hands move over my thigh…….. what came next?
Bizarre they were as much for their content as much as their very existence. Existential meanderings aren’t quite what a girl has in mind after a hard day at the office. Especially as I’m very much more a Samantha in nature; I please myself. I pleasure I did receive since my last post.
I phoned back a couple of days later. I made him wait deliberately so I could have the initiative. It was not long after work had ended. I needed a change of place. It’s the exam season at the moment and to say things are intense would be an understatement. It’s more akin to traumatic, for all concerned and so a glass of for wine along with conversation was what a girl needed.
Going home to change was never on the agenda, there wasn’t the time. I wanted spontaneity in conversation, in actions in everything. I was looking something so I arrived early. It gave me the initiative, which I was to grab with both hands like I did the wine. It arrived chilled in contrast to my body which was still damp from working in the intensity of the classroom setting. It’s all a performance but then for me so is life. I perform, I act in order to experience.
His experience in these scenarios soon became evident. I must have stood out with my casual deportment on a long tanned lather settee by a main window which over looked the bustling high street full of people finding their way home.
He said over to me with a beaming smile of confidence, rather than arrogance. I reciprocated with my eyes which reflected the alcohol induced warmth I was beginning to feel. I nodded a yes a raised my glass so he could see my wine was red.
I leaned back so I could fall deep into the comfort of the leather and made my mind up. It was what I wanted, needed even. As I imagined the future he returned carrying two glass of wine and brushed his arm against me as he sat down. I shuddered alarmed at the extent of my wanting…..what came next?
Of course as you know I wanted him to ring. I wouldn’t be normal. Just thinking about him makes me tingle. But that’s the point I don’t know whether I’m coming or going. My sensibilities have gone haywire as I no longer feel in control.
This married man has disarmed me and it’s disconcerting because I’m thinking of him when I ordinarily wouldn’t think of anything but me and my work.
I can’t acquiesce. It’s my power as a woman which gives me control. Control of married men is normally the simplest thing. They’re desperate for something extra and I sometimes get desperate for intimacy. So there’s a meeting of minds as well as needs. This is how I like it to be.
In contrast a haze has fallen over me. The next thing I’ll be having is wistful and rueful feelings!! I don’t want love which leads to loss; I just want something to suit me.
Now I have the temptation of his number. I’ll carry his number around with me. Ubiquitous. I cut our conversation short, politely. Not enough to deter him, just enough for him to know more about me. I said I was tired, and was going to bed and I’d ring him back. Shall I?
If I do it will end where I want it, but not on my terms. What am I to do?
Maybe this beautiful song will help me choose………my God I’m getting so wistful….what’s happening to me???? What came next?
His lips received my kiss with a confident willingness. It was only a momentary touching of lips. Brief, yet so very intimate an exchange. So much was uttered in the tender contact though nothing was spoken. The currency of a single kiss is often high with married men because you can taste their wealth of experience first-hand.
Nevertheless such intimacy though silent is so sensually revealing. I found myself startled as to how much I had divulged while at the same time discovered. Here was a man who had seduced me and I hadn’t even been aware of it. His seduction came through my own naked desire for him. I was found wanting.
The beauty of the foreplay in the bar was its sophistication. It wasn’t the typical cheap innuendo or brazen “let’s go home and shag”. Instead he’d been caressing and courting me though his conversation. Driving home I reflected about the way he’s used his eyes to brush his words over my skin, through my hair and on the nape of my neck. I could still hear his voice and it was truly startling the effect it was having on me. I was profoundly turned-on.
I pulled the car over and wound the window down for some air as my breathing was getting deeper and as intense as my intimate thoughts. I had unwittingly been restless in the driving seat, so I smoothed my skirt down. My imagination soon thought of his hands brushing over and uder my clothing. My heart was racing with the excitement, as I gulped at the cool night air to temper the moist heat of my excited body.
My state of arousal was now so heightened I became alarmed, almost frightened. How could a simple placing of the lips could have such an effect on me. I was an experienced women. Yet my whole body was tingling from the passionate thoughts ignited by that one simple kiss so I began visualizing the effects a full snog would have on me. Breathless would be an understatement wild with desire would tell you more, as I ached for his lips, his hands and sex.
How subtle and intelligent his actions were. I kiss him, yet he entraps me with my own fantasies. How desirable that makes him. Maybe he knew this, because if I hadn’t placed my lips on his, he would have done nothing. And maybe that would have been just as seductive, as I would be on fire with the desire to place my lips on his.
My married man had me thinking about him, which was a little unsettling for me as I normally perceive myself to be the one in control. God what would he do to me if I truly kissed him as deeply as I like to. Stop this I said to myself, you’re becoming far too excitable and started the car again so I could concentrate on something else other than being with him.
However this loss of authority was worrying as I am normally in control. Yet maybe it was a price I was prepared to pay for the time being at least. Yet anything more was only a possiblility, he needed to ring me……..what came next?
Well……….. find out a lot more about him I did! And like so many encounters with married men it was so pleasurable.
For the uninitiated, married men tend to be far more appreciative of the subtle nuances needed to engage with people. Far a start they listen more and enquire more about how you are rather than how wonderful they are. Come on, you know what I mean; narcissism has become viral with guys under 35.
They’re all ego around this age, constantly looking around the bar to see if there’s someone better than you to talk to. Because they think they’re so wonderful. And my God don’t they like you to massage their penises - metaphorically speaking of course. Yes, I know they want the other type as well, but please, who really wants to discuss massaging little pricks!
In contrast this married guy was the antithesis of the above. Consideration was his middle name along with several others that soon became apparent especially his ability to converse. He could tell if it wasn’t your cup-of-tea, so he’d simply switch topics how cool is that. And wait for it; he’d always link his topic back to me. What did I think? How did I feel about this or that? And that’s not all; the icing on the cake for me was his humour. I haven’t laughed so much in ages.
Now these attributes are not all unique to married men, nevertheless as they tend to be more relaxed about themselves then these little extras do tend to percolate through to the surface more than your average dude. Let’s face it; married men have experience of keeping a relationship together for more than a week.
So we chatted, flirted, drank a little more and before I realised it was time to leave. What usually happens is the guy is desperate to get you to his place or at the very least your number. How many times have you implemented loads of strategies to avoid this bit, especially if you’ve grown tired of them? And boy if don’t some of them get edgy if you show the slightest bit of indifference to their invitations home at the end of an evening.
My God it’s like the end of the world. They moan that you’ve led them on, or you’ve wasted their time when they could’ve been looking elsewhere. Some guys think we’re there simply to service their needs. It’s as if we’re all porn stars with permanently lubricated holes. They think we just go out drinking because we want shagging!!! Whatever happened to simply going out??
Contrast this with a married man. They’re, from the ones I meet, are already getting ‘it’ so they tend to start drifting off home without even bothering to ask for a number, a kiss, let alone a coffee. I have to prise it out of them, and this guy was no different. In fact he nearly slipped out after saying goodbye.
“Come back here, I say, where are you going?”
“Home” he says.
“Well don’t you want my number?”
“Never thought” he says
“Why not, I ask?”
“I’m married comes the reply”
He even said it in a casual way. “I’m married” like it’s a condition, a self-evident condition of unavailability. Yet for me it’s a precondition of availability. So I invite him to be a gentleman and walk me to my car (I’ve only been drinking soft-drinks). While walking I gently flirt a little more with him until we arrive at my car. Whereupon I casually write my number on a piece of paper and place it into his hand. Just as I pull my fingers away I make sure they glide along his large masculine hands. Doing so forces a response from him. He looks down at me and delivers a knowing smile and that’s when I strike. Silently my tongue moistens the inside of my lips which then close to fall gently onto………what came next?
One of the most exciting aspects of being a woman is having the power lure men into your world. At times it might seem an innocuous ability, mainly because men tend to react positively to any situation where a shag might be in the offing. So when you’re young and out on the town, having swarms of men flying in ones direction is de rigour.
However looks, especially youthful looks, are as we all know temporal. Nevertheless, this shift has its benefits. As shall we say the more discerning male tends, from my experience, to be attracted to women with a combination of qualities. Therefore the older you get, thankfully you get a better calibre of male wishing to introduce themselves.
However like I said earlier, when out in a bar we all know what a ‘hi’ is a euphemism for when delivered by a male. No matter what their, age, income or intellect it’s a shag! Let’s be honest about this, men in general will shag anything. Even mud if it had a hole.
This is where married men have the edge, their instincts are largely shackled. Take the other night for example. There I was out with friend when I noticed three guys standing with their pints having a lively chat with each other. One of them was absolutely gorgeous. When I say gorgeous, not that “look at me aren’t I attractive” poseur, but that relaxed ‘take me as you find me look’. A man of confidence rather than arrogance.
Anyway I kept glancing over until I caught his eye. I didn’t smile back; I just kept teasing him with my flirtatious glances. The more he looked the more I replied in kind. This went on for about half an hour, and still he never made a move towards me. This was my first tell-tale sign. The married man tends to be more cautious, vulnerable even to the charms of a woman as they’re constrained by conscience over desire. This puts their balls firmly in our court ladies!!
After a little more twoing and froing I got up from my seat and made certain I walked past him on my way to the bar with a glance which was unequivocal in its message of desire. He acknowledged with a reciprocal smile of appreciation. It was on my return from the bar I made my move. I stopped near to him with a furtive ‘hi’. His response was as swift as it was endearing. His eyes swooned in my direction; their rich blueness scanned my whole body in an instant. Their dilated applause was appreciated and ignited my desire to find out at lot more about him……………..what came next?
The interest over my appetite for married men continues to surprise to generate more interest than anything else I’ve previously written. Maybe I’ve struck a nerve, a raw nerve even. Yet what’s the problem? Could it be that I’m irritating some because I’m behaving like…yes you’ve guessed it a man. This means being forthright, dominating, competitive and selfless and this is just in bed!
This attributes could account as to why you are not in the top job, when you’ve got the better qualifications, attitude, and commitment?
Historically feminists have pointed to patriarchy imposing structural constraints on women, more commonly known as the ‘glass-ceiling’. I guess if you haven’t yet banged your head on it then you’re guaranteed to do so sometime soon.
It’ll happen when you’re forced to put your career on hold to start a family, or simply because you’re paid less than a man for doing the same job. For some women it’s simply a matter of tradition, you’re place is in the home caring for all and sundry. Whatever its manifestation, male power will keep be you out of the boardroom.
But this view is under question by Susan Pinker in her book The Sexual Paradox. Her thought provoking perspective recognises that across 30 European Counties girls are outperforming boys in the three Rs.
However despite girl’s achievements surpassing those of boys Pinker argues that boardroom success will remain a dream for most women because of their innate disposition. She puts it down to women being hardwired for empathy.
Girls it would seem are biologically rather than socially engineered to be less extreme than men and so tend to be more consistent and steadier unlike their erratic male counterparts. Therefore,as Pinker’s argument goes, women are designed to want to limit their time at work and subvert a colleague in order to succeed.
Pinker’s theory might be right, but it still doesn’t mean women should have to put up with the raft of inequalities found in society which limit the opportunities of those girls that might not be so resolutely hardwired. Men have enough excuses to emasculate us they don’t need anymore so I’ll continue to emancipate myself from their iron-like grip.
Last night’s post about my preference for married men certainly attracted a raft of readers. Indeed the number of visits surprised me. My musings on the issue were sincere, as I’ve become fed-up of continually being let down my guys of the single variety. It’s their arrogant peacock mentality.
Once they feel you’re theirs they strut around pubs and bars in full bloom saying “look at me I’m so gorgeous, look at what what you’re missing” it’s a penis driven monologue. They want us, their girlfriends to protect them from themselves! “I couldn’t help sleeping with her, it meant nothing, she came on to me”
In contrast married men don’t make such demands. Yes I know they want sex, but so do I, but when I want it. And it seems I’m not alone just look at these links on the same subject!! Read my true story!
Patriarchy isn’t the dominant force some men think it is especially when it comes to relationships with successful and confident women.
When I listen to some of my girlfriends the Bridget Jones syndrome seems to dominate their perspective on life and relations, to the extent they don’t ‘exist’ unless they have a man by their side.
And when I say ‘have’, I don’t mean have in the contemporary colloquial sense. This idea of having, refers to shagging men’s brain’s out. No what I mean is, they have to have a man in order to give them an identity, to make them a whole person. Severe the man and the woman die’s metaphorically.
Now I in contrast, made a decision long ago to resurrect myself from any relationship fall-out with a strategic shift in my relationships. I got fed up from the after shocks which follow the discovery of your man’s infidelity.
It’s all the apologies, incessant visits from Interflora, texts, phone calls and other excuses for their penile indiscretions which I have found tends to rain down after a man chooses to start shagging someone else while in a long-standing relationship.
Come on girls, we all know where men’s brain are and we also know they’d happily shag anything with a hole. Coarse of me I know, but at the same time true! They promise the world just so they can glide their smooth hands down deep into your pants. They can be such charmers when. We all know it’s not just their eyes that bulge when they get a glance of your pantie lace and talk about persistence. It’s a better they weren’t so committed to screwing up the fixtures and fittings.
But with a career and life to manage who needs all this fall-out, not me, but every so often I need a shag, so that’s where married men come in. You can detect them a mile off; their wanton gaze quietly scanning the bar or club for a reciprocal interest, with a timidity that’s unique to their situation.
You beckon them over and they’re yours for the evening’s entertainment. No, I don’t mean getting straight down to it, you’re a lady. Exchange mobile phone numbers, and meet them during the day for coffee, weigh them up and down and watch them hanging on your every word. Then the decision becomes yours. And that’s the best part plus I’ll be honest their eagerness means they taste better too.
You can use them to meet your sexual needs because they think they’re using you. You can call them up and ask them to do to you what you want them to. You’re in so much control they literally are putty in your hands. The best bit is you can say not tonight and there’s nothing they can do! They’ll never let you down but if they do drop them straight away knowing there’s a million more just waiting for your matriarchal smile! Read my smile!
His lubricated hands moved up and down my thighs. 
Posted by mammjtommo 
