Orgasm

My wife (42) and I have been married for almost 20 years and have a wonderful sex life together. Believe it or not, we never cheated on each other. In the past year my wife felt abandoned by the computer revolution and took some basic courses on DOS. I encouraged her to just play with some of the kids, write letters, etc. For her birthday last month, I gave her an Internet account. She could read newsgroups, write email, talk, etc. My wife is a bit of a flirt and I knew very well that as a woman she would get a lot of attention on the internet. That was fine for me, I certainly had my own experiences in the past and after being married for as long as we have, a little distraction, especially if it is limited to an exchange of electrons, is not a bad idea at all.

Last night I had a great dream. I was in high school, my freshman year. I just got out of the shower, getting ready in the morning, when my sister came in. “I don’t want to go to school today,” she cried quietly. She was 13, seventh grade.

“Why? Are you sick? Tell Mom before she goes to work.

“No, I’m not sick. I have a big newspaper to write today and I’m not finished.” Can you take me to Pam at 3:00? We’ll do it together.”

Which happened when I was 25 years old. At that time I taught at a Catholic school; I was a nun. I have long brown hair, and quite slim, and has been told I have very nice boobs and a chic ass. I’ve noticed a man staring at my ass, even dressed in my nun’s habit. I’m also pretty tall… 5 feet 10 centimeters.

On the day of this story, I escorted a few dozen children from my school to the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC. We were visiting from outside the city and arrived the night before. We arrived early… After waiting for the museum to open, we continued, which I have always regarded as ’the beginning’ of art - the display of medieval art, followed by Renaissance art. The portraits of the Madonna, of Christ, and apostles or saints have been my inspiration to my childhood.

One night late driving from work to my boyfriend at school… I followed a white truck. He didn’t pass fast so I him, and then he tried to pass me Turn on the light in his cab so I could see what he looked like. He was cute and I followed him for a while and decided what hell was going on, I passed him again and this time I did the same and waved to him as I passed. This wasn’t like me at all, I don’t know if it was just late and I was bored or what but I liked it. After a few minutes he passed again with his light on, but this time he pointed to something straight and drove through me. Then I was a resting place sign and knew what he wanted. My heart started pounding when I didn’t want to move on. I saw him blink. In my mind I wasn’t going to stop, but if I race closer my heart and I couldn’t stop pulling myself in and stopping next to his truck.

Goldie got bored and decided to take a walk in the woods. At first the fresh air seemed cool and inviting. But when the sun rose to the sky, the sky became more weary. Small rivers of perspiration drove through her neck and around the hills of her breasts, disappearing into the top of her sundress. The damp cloth clinged to her skin, sketching her nipples. She unbuttoned the top of her dress to bring the air to her sweaty skin.

I’ll never forget my cousin Arlene. She was and is a beautiful girl/woman. We learned a lot together when we were younger.

Arlene and her parents, Tony and Tanita, lived next door to me and my parents when she was ten years old.

Because there were so few children living near us, none, we of course got used to each other. Actually we lived in the countryside and the nearest farm was close to a quarter of a mile away and they had no children of our age.

I knew early on I wasn’t making her happy. Our sex drives didn’t seem right. When I was tired of work and wanted to sleep, she wanted to have sex. When I was rested and ready, she was less and less in the mood.

When I left school and worked full-time (two jobs), and she ended up in school, our social life was very different. My social life revolved around e-mails to my friends and family 2,000 miles away. My day off was spent every week with her and her family - church and dinner. She spent the evening with her friends, so-called the “sensible one” when she was drunk and chasing men. She also spent many weekends with her school clubs and visited her mother.

She looked good in what she had. The shape of her body suggested that she was very athletic.

Her top was cut low enough to show her cleavage in her beautifully proportioned breasts. When she bent over, they almost seemed to fall out.

The pants she was wearing were tight on her ass, screaming a little at her feet. She had a nice ass.

She kept following me at the gym. After I finished with a certain machine, I went through the room to work out another arm/shoulder muscle. After a minute she stood next to me. This happened several times.

It all started on Saturday afternoon when I came in after mowing the lawn. Mom jumped me from behind the door and started tickling me without mercy.

“Gottcha!” she screamed and put me against a wall. I started giggling and trying to fight Mom’s fingers off their torture. I know if I didn’t get away soon, Mom would make me laugh in tears.

We’ve been doing this since I was seven. ‘Cause Tomorrow she woke me up for school by jumping on the bed What I slept in and she started tickling me until I begged to stop. But I usually even came on the next weekend, because when Dad had to leave for work very early, so Mom slept late. While she was still asleep, I flew out of nowhere and landed on her bed… And I bounced us both high in the sky. In the past we went upstairs to drop ice cubes together, water balloons coming from nowhere and when we trained in the backyard, we sprayed each other with the garden hose (although we were never outside when that happened. What a mess!). We behaved more like best friends than mother and son.

John, that was beautiful. How’s your day going? Still a bad day?" I giggle.

“I’m having a beautiful day,” you mumble gently, a soft breathing colors your voice.

“Wait till you see what night you’re going to have!” I’m giggling.

“UH oh,” you smile in response.

“Oh dear!” I’m sighing. “I forgot. I brought work I have to read by tomorrow. Why don’t I clean this up from dinner, and I’ll start with the work. You can relax, read the paper, take a shower or something. Sorry, honey, it’s just a few hours of reading. I’ll make it up to you later if you’re patient.” You sigh too, but smile when you see the naughty brilliance in my eyes. “The nite is not over,” you think to yourself.