by Marx, Jayda
Housewife Chronicles
Volume One: Reignited
Jayda Marx
Preface
My husband and I started dating our senior year of high school, and were both seventeen at the time. We had been friends for several years, so we already knew and trusted each other. When we finally took our relationship further, it turned intimate quickly. More quickly than I even want to admit, writing this. Anyway, add in the fact that we were a couple of horny teenagers, and it was hot and heavy right off the bat. Being so young, there wasn’t much technique involved. We knew what worked for us, and stuck with it. It was the sheer agility and frequency that was amazing. We were insatiable. If we could find ten minutes alone, somebody’s pants were off. At that moment in time, we never thought the momentum would slow. We could never have imagined that anything would change this amazing appetite we had for one another.
Fast forward nine years and two children later. As if I even need to say it, things slowed down. Sex was now something that had to be planned, squeezed in between work, family and sleep. Once we had been married for a while and our first child was born, we truly realized that things were changing. We vowed to make time for each other at least once a week. It was a nice thought. Life, stress and pure exhaustion have a way of placing themselves in the way of your plans, no matter how determined you are to keep them. Sometimes weeks, even months would go by without us realizing.
One day it was just like something awoke inside me, and told me that I wasn’t satisfied. I was just a stay at home mom missing something in her life; a housewife whose sex life had fallen into a major rut. When my husband and I found time to actually be together, it was…pretty good. At least I thought it was. I really had nothing to compare it to, but something inside me was telling me it just wasn’t enough. I didn’t want to just have an average sex life. I wanted to be brazen. Dirty. I wanted to bring back the unrelenting desire my man once had for me, and to bring us both to new, extraordinary heights of passion. I somehow knew on a soul deep level that I had the ability within me, if I could find the courage to unleash it. That day I decided to make a change – to take the situation by the balls (pun intended), and alter it. So, this is the story of my transformation; the story of my journey to becoming a bold, shameless, voracious lover.
I was standing in the kitchen after getting myself a drink of water. I had a knot of nerves in my throat and I was attempting to calm myself down. I was trying to come up with a way to talk to Tyler, my husband, about all the things I had been thinking about; namely how our love life had taken a nose dive. I had tried to start the conversation several times, but always chickened out.
He had sensed my distance earlier in the day and had asked what was wrong. I said “nothing” and tried to hide my thoughts. He didn’t push, but shot me a look that told me he wasn’t buying what I said. The man can read me like a book. He can always tell when something is on my mind, and when I am mad at him even if I am swearing up and down I’m not. He has a way of prying my true feelings out of me even if I don’t know exactly what they are, until I’m pouring my emotions out to him. He may not always agree with me, but he has always understood, and respected my wishes. Up until this point we had been able to work through any problems we came across. But I didn’t know how he was going to react to this. I mean, how do you tell your husband you want more out of your sex life, without crushing him? Without making him feel like less of a man, or make him question his abilities? The fact remained, though, that I did want more. I knew I wasn’t going to be truly happy until I was honest about my feelings. He knew there was something eating at me, and I knew him well enough to know he would keep asking until I just came out with it. I might as well just get it over with. And at that particular time, with the kids playing in their rooms and him doing laundry in a room by himself, I had the perfect opportunity to talk to him alone.
And yes, I said he was doing laundry. That alone should be enough to make any woman weak in the knees. He was always doing nice things for me, always wanting to please me. That’s one reason why this was so hard. If he thought that he hadn’t been satisfying me, this whole time, it might really hurt him. I walked up to the open laundry room and watched in silence. It truly was a sexy sight. He stood tall in front of me, just over six feet. He was wearing only a pair of blue jeans, my favorite pair on him due to the way they fit tight against his ass. What can I say; the man has a great ass. Round and firm, swelling over his long, muscular legs. I’m jealous of that luscious butt. If I can’t have it myself, I’m at least glad he does so that I can stare at it. I was able to break my gaze to let my eyes wander over the rest of his body. His smooth, toned back lead up to his broad shoulders. His head was turned to the side, showing half of his handsome face. His chin was covered in a coal black goatee and his sculpted jawline was prickled with stubble, as always. He could shave first thing in the morning and would have stubble before noon. His glossy black hair was just long enough for me to run my fingers through. Even though we had been together for quite a while, I never got tired of looking at him. I never took for granted what a gorgeous man he was. Did I tell him often enough? Probably not. He rummaged through the dryer, pulled out a t-shirt and slipped it on, completely ruining the view I was so enjoying. He turned and looked at me with warm, dark brown eyes.
“Oh, hey. I didn’t hear you come in.” He looked at me for a long second. “Are you sure nothing is bothering you? You’re acting like something is on your mind.”
“Actually, yeah, there kinda is.” Just spit it out. “I was just thinking since this is your last night before you go back to work that we could…you know.” He worked midnight shifts as a nurse at our local hospital, and was only home a couple nights a week. This made it even more difficult to find time for each other. “I thought we could be together tonight.”
“Okay. Is that it? Why be worried about that?”
“Well, it’s not just about tonight.” I took a deep breath and continued, “Tyler, do you remember the last time we made love? Because I don’t.” My best guess was that it had been six weeks or more. Whenever it was, one thing I did know was that it had followed our usual pattern: light foreplay, missionary position, straight to sleep. “I just feel like lately we’ve been in sort of a slump. It’s just not enough. I know a lot has been going on lately but we need to make more time for each other. I want it to be a priority for us to be together. I feel it’s important to our relationship; to our marriage. I’m not upsetting you, am I?”
He gave me a compassionate but firm look. “Shay. No man is ever going to be upset because his wife wants to have more sex with him. Of course I’m not upset. I’m sorry if you’ve been feeling neglected, it wasn’t intentional. You are my absolute number one priority. Okay?”
“Well, there’s more …” I gulped and talked a little bit faster. “I’ve been thinking lately that maybe I’d like to try some new things. Like dirty stuff. Not that I don’t like being with you, I just…I just want to go crazy with you. We’ve never had that, you know? I just want to let loose and do naughty things to you.” I stopped, a little breathless because I had blurted out everything all at once. A smile crept across his face and his eyes brightened.
“Sounds good, baby.”
Wait. Was he serious? That was it? He had answered so quickly it made me wonder, was this something he had been thinking about also? There was one more question on my mind, may as well just go on with it. “So…about that. Is there anything you don’t want to do? I mean, how far is too far? I just really don’t want to freak you out with anything, I...” He stopped me with a single finger to m
y lips, still smiling with his eyes boring into me.
“Do whatever you want to me. I’m up for anything. If we decide we don’t like it, that’s fine. We can always stop. But I want you to get everything you want. If you want dirty, then that’s what you’ll get.” I smiled back at him, feeling relieved and intrigued. His hands found mine and he just stood there for a moment, looking at me. First into my eyes, then drifting slowly down my body.
I’m not a spectacle as he is. At least, I don’t see myself that way, especially after having the kids. Everything seemed to…spread out a bit. Even before the kids, though, I never was a tiny, delicate thing. Although I take care of myself; eating right, exercising and what not, I am what you’d consider plus size – size 18 to be exact. I do have an hourglass figure, there’s just a bit more sand than I’d prefer. My hair is a dark blonde, though I keep it highlighted. My eyes, my favorite part of my body, are a deep marbled blue. I have fair, porcelain skin with freckles scattered here and there over my cheeks, nose and shoulders. Nothing special as far as I’m concerned. Tyler, however, has always seen something special in me. He tells me I’m beautiful, and I can tell that he means it. His eyes never wander, always happy with what he sees in me. I wish I could see in myself what he does. But I am thrilled that he loves me, every inch of me, and likes my body exactly as it is.
The sight of him looking my body up and down, combined with the conversation we had just shared, excited me. It had ignited something deep within me. I was free, then, to lose all abandon and do with him as I wished. I didn’t have to worry about holding back, about it being too much for him. I wanted to show him exactly what I could do for him, to him. And I wanted to show him then and there. I knew, though, that the kids were just in the other room and that it’d have to wait. Only a few more hours. I managed to contain myself, and kissed him gently on the cheek. “Until tonight, then.” As I was walking out of the room, I felt a quick, heavy slap on my ass. I turned to look at him wide eyed, and he was simply smirking at me. Oh yes, this was going to be good. And he was not going to make the wait easy.
The next few hours seemed to drag on forever. Not only was the excitement building inside me, but so were the fears. What exactly was I going to do? Lately I had picked up a habit of reading dirty little romance novels. I marveled at the things in those books. I used them almost like study guides; reading, researching, and coming up with naughty fantasies I wanted to act out. But I didn’t know if I would ever actually bring myself to try them, and definitely never came up with a solid plan. I’m a planner. Always have been, and probably always will be. I like to plot scenarios out in my head before anything actually happens, but this was proving difficult for me. I had never done anything like this before. I didn’t want to look silly or be embarrassed or do something wrong. I finally just told myself to push everything out of my mind, not to worry so much and to just take it moment by moment. This was a new experience for both of us. If I wanted to make this change in my life, I was going to have to change with it. I was going to have to be bold. Wanton. Risqué. And I liked the sound of that.
Nightfall finally came. Even as we were following our usual routine of getting our children to bed, there was a spark of intensity in the air. We would accidentally brush against each other in the hall, and just that little bit of contact sent a shock through me. It electrified every nerve, every fiber of my being. I couldn’t remember the last time I had longed for him this way. Been this eager to feel his touch.
And now, at last, the house was still and silent. While he was checking the house and locking the doors, I slipped into our bedroom. I quickly stripped out of my clothes and threw them in a jumbled pile in the floor. I laid down and waited on the bed. I’m not going to lie. I was nervous. It seemed almost silly, as we had made love hundreds of times before. But there was a sense of newness in the moment, which exhilarated me and made my blood race. I heard our doorknob turn and my heart skipped a beat. Tyler stepped inside our room, and closed the door behind him. The only light upon him was the faint glow of a streetlight pouring in through our lightly colored curtains. It danced beautifully against his silhouette. He looked over my body, naked and trembling with anticipation. His tongue traced a smooth line across his bottom lip. That sent a shudder down my spine, making my skin tighten and tingle. My nipples contracted into taut beads, aching to be touched. “Shay, you are so beautiful,” he whispered. I didn’t know what to say, so I just remained quiet and let him look. “So beautiful. I want you so badly.” He took off his shirt and threw it by our dresser. He started to unbutton his jeans when I was finally able to speak up.
“No.” He looked at me a little confused. “Leave them and come to me.” He walked to the bed so that his knees and shins were touching down the side of the mattress and bedframe. I scooted to the edge in front of him and propped up on my knees. I put my hands on him to steady myself and moved my body closer to his. My eyes were adjusting to the light and I could make out more of his enticing, incredible body. My hands were lying on a dusting of dark hair on his chest. I ran the pad of my thumb down between his pecs and back up to his chin. I hooked my finger underneath and pulled his face to mine. Our lips only brushed at first, gently pressing together, but soon began to move more hungrily. My lips parted and he slipped his tongue inside, searching the walls of my mouth. I pulled his shoulders so that his body was completely flush with mine, and wrapped my arms tight around him. My tongue mingled with his, swirling and tasting one another. His hands traced around my hips and cupped my ass, caressing and squeezing the hunk of flesh. I could feel him grow against me, bulging against his zipper. I placed my hands flat against his chest and pushed him back a little, making sure not to separate our lips. I ran my palms down his tight, toned stomach and bumped against the top of his jeans. I slipped the button free and the zipper began creeping down on its own, being pushed down by the mass it was trying to contain. I tugged it the rest of the way down, and hooked my thumbs in each side of his boxers, and pulled them and his pants down in one smooth movement past his thighs. He stepped out and kicked them behind him. And there he stood before me, completely naked and aroused. I broke our kiss for a moment just to look at him. His manhood stood straight, a long and thick throbbing muscle. It was begging to be touched. I obliged. I grasped his tip and wrapped a fist around him, with my fingers barely meeting. As I slowly moved my hand down his shaft and back up, a clear glistening drop escaped him. I placed my thumb on it and moved it in circles. I heard a slow “mmmm” rumble deep in his chest. I leaned close to his ear and whispered “lie down on the bed.” He lay down beside me on his back and reached for me. I just shook my head slowly, biting my lip. I bent down and kissed his forehead, his nose, then his chin, and slowly began working my way down. I stopped midway down his chest and moved to the left. I gave a quick flick of my tongue to his nipple. I wasn’t sure if he would get any pleasure out of it, I only knew that I loved it when he did this to me. But when I heard the huff of breath escaping his lips, I knew that he was enjoying it. So, I again flicked it, then pressed my tongue hard to him and moved over the entire surface of his nipple. Another rumble came from his chest, and this time I felt it through my tongue, and the vibration sent a thrill through me. I felt a pressure building deep inside my stomach, and a wetness blossoming between my thighs. I mimicked my actions on his right side, drawing another breath of pleasure, and started moving my attention further down. A kiss above the navel, then below, then on a close trimmed patch of coarse hair. This certainly wasn’t the first time I had gone down on him, but I was determined to make this time different – exciting, thrilling and memorable. I brushed my tongue across the top of his cock, now wet with the juices it was having trouble containing.
“Mmm, I love the way you taste,” I heard myself whisper. I never talked during sex. Until now. I could tell that he liked it, by the way his breath hissed against his teeth. I was working my tongue all over his tip now, lapping up every drop he lost. I closed my lips around him and
began bobbing my head up and down, slowly, keeping my tongue at the tip, moving in circles. My left hand was propping my weight up on the bed, and my right hand moved to the base of his shaft, and began pumping in rhythm with my lips. I heard him moan and grasp the blanket in his fists. I loved making him feel this way, knowing I was giving him so much pleasure. I shifted all my weight on my knees so that I could move my left hand. I placed it on his inner thigh and hesitated. I wanted to try something new. I didn’t know how he would react, but he had said that he was up for anything. We were about to find out. I continued the movement of my lips and hand, while the other slipped down around his balls. I massaged them gently, knowing how sensitive they are. I lifted them, felt their weight, and bounced them tenderly in my palm. “Oh yeah, baby.” The words washed over me and gave me the courage to move on. My hand left his balls and traveled….down. I spread his ass apart, took a deep breath and with one quick movement placed my index finger pointing down on the knot of muscle. I felt my heart slamming against my chest, but willed myself to keep going. I began moving my finger in a “come closer” motion, starting at the bottom of his opening and curling back up towards me. I couldn’t make myself look at him, but was listening for any signs of protest. I didn’t hear any, but could make out the surprise in his breathing. I wasn’t in a rush, and continued the movement until I received an indication that he was ready for more. It came in a breath, first deep, then holding. He was preparing himself, inviting me in. I removed my lips from his sex to spit in my hand, wetting my fingers. That in itself made me feel incredibly filthy, and I reveled in it. Besides, I was not about to stop to grab lube from our drawer, for fear of either of us losing our nerve. And I’m pretty sure he didn’t see me do it. Even if he did, I didn’t care. I lowered my then slick fingers back to his opening and slowly pushed in, just a fingertip at first. The thrill of being inside him buzzed through me. I wanted more. I pushed in again, now past my second knuckle, and began slowly working my finger in and out, twisting as I went. A loud breath escaped his lips, followed by a long deep moan.
