Shambala

Anne reminded me a bit of a tribal fertility goddess. Her face had pleasing round shape and full cheeks and lips, her breasts are good sized, and her butt is small and tight. Her skin was amazing, ashy and fairly dark, smooth and clean and hairless below her head (must wax for how clean it all was). She obviously took great care in her appearance. I really like talking with her, she’s a smart girl with a good sense of humor.

There I was, pressed against Anne’s velvety skin, my erection lost. I continued to kiss her full lips. She’s a really intense kisser, I wasn’t quite prepared for her tongue exploring the depths of my mouth and her sucking and biting my lips with incredible ferocity. I was gasping for breath, one hand gripping her jet black hair and another squeezing a full breast with a dark nipple. “Ok” after 5 minutes was about the only word I could manage to her condom comment. She reached over and produced a condom from under the pillow. I slid my pants off and prayed that my erection would return as my boxers pressed against her panties. She could tell something had happened to my boner of course, and asked “what do you like?”

Come to find out later, this was only Anne’s second time (I didn’t volunteer that she was only my second woman). Luckily, she was patient. My limp dick gave some interesting moments of clarity, slowing things down, making everything more conscious. As we got completely naked, I felt more vulnerable than I’d felt in a long time. It was interesting feeling another woman’s vulva: Anne’s was totally recessed like the labia were trying to hide by sinking into her pubic area. The folds were tight like an impenetrable fortress but her huge clit towered overhead like a gargoyle on a parapet. I rubbed my semi-soft shaft over the thing and it quivered and I could feel the moisture wetting my skin. Her legs shook and she sucked my lips furiously. She grabbed some lube from under the pillow as well and coated our loins until they shimmered, exploring every inch of my cock and balls as she did. Sliding my hips up and down I rubbed the shaft between her slit and her exploring hands; it only took a few moments to become completely engorged. Slipping the condom on, I pushed the latex encased head into her entrance, and I was surprised with how readily it opened to receive me. I could feel her contract hard as I slipped completely inside. All she could say is “oh god” and all I could do is grunt between gasps of air. We began to fuck slowly at first, she was contracting so hard she would almost stop me mid-thrust. She kept moaning the false name, ‘Jason’, I’d given her, I learned that it is still a massive turn-on to have someone moan your false-name during sex. Picking up the pace till our bodies were slapping together rapidly and her head was hanging off the end of the bed. I don’t know how long that first time was, but as our hips pushed hungrily against each other until I finally came.

We spooned for a while afterward. I had thought for certain that if not during, then at least after I would be awash with guilt of what I had just done. But none came, it was just me and her laying there on her sister’s big bed in a princess-themed room, chatting calmly. We were fucking again a few minutes later after exchanging some oral, more intense than even the first time, and it didn’t take nearly as long for me to get hard this time. Showered together and I was on my way. I remember thinking as I drove back to work “that was nice, but now that I’ve done that, I don’t think I need to do it again”. Funny how that works. How imperceptible our desires and mind-body connection can be. Just as one eats a sumptuous meal and five minutes after say they’ll never eat again. I would be back at Anne’s a few days later, this time it was more intense and passionate, and there were certainly no erectile issues. Then again a few days after that. I was amazed that I was getting away with it. My wife didn’t suspect a thing. Showers, breath mints, mouth wash, carefully timing calls and excuses, and she didn’t seem even slightly suspicious.

I had grown much more attracted to Anne during this time. I had forgotten what it was like to have sex with someone who actually wanted to have sex with you (those moments had been so rare with my wife). It was amazing having sex with someone who was there with you in the moment, instead of talking about kids, how crappy her family and friends are, and what color curtains to get for the living room (no matter which way you shift the conversation). Instead of saying “great, uh huh, that’s interesting, that sucks, we’ll see”, with Anne I would be grunting and moaning and saying “oh fuck, oh god, your pussy is so tight/hot/wet, you are so damn sexy” (which normally gets me embarrassed stares or at worst suggestion that I should stop being so dirty or the baby might hear). I could slap an ass, pull some hair, go from pounding her deep and hard to kissing and grinding my hips into her. She wanted it again and again, longer, harder, slower, faster, just more of it. With Anne, I didn’t get complaints that french kissing was dirty and messy, that doggy style is uncomfortable, that her tits are too sensitive to suck on/squeeze/play with (oh and don’t call them ‘tits’), I don’t want to ride you because it is hard for me, I don’t want to blow you because it hurts my mouth, don’t kiss me after you’ve licked my pussy because I don’t like the taste, don’t get any cum near me cause it is gross. Why was it that way with my wife? We had talked about it, but it would never get better, and then the excuses, we argue too much about x/y/z, you aren’t doing enough around the house, you haven’t taken me on enough dates/gotten me flowers in a couple months. I hadn’t realized how bad it all was until I had been with Anne and realized sex didn’t have to just be some pesky nuisance that had to be gotten out of the way before you explode, but something to really enjoy with passion. I realized, I’m beyond fucking exhausted fighting to have even decent sex with my wife.

Unfortunately, after our third rendezvous, Anne’s parents and sister came back and our opportunities vanished. While I was with Anne I had stopped keeping up with CL, stopped the constant checking of my accounts. Email was still coming in, with the occasional reply from a stale ad. With Anne and I no longer able to meet, I quickly returned to my old habits, getting back to some old email threads with various women, keeping up with w4m, etc but with a renewed confidence and less desperation than ever, blowing off more and more replies than I answered. Then my wife told me she wanted to take the baby down to visit her parents…

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12 thoughts on “Shambala

  1. OMG God… WOW! You woke up the voyeur in me while I was reading about your encounter. Seriously, I felt like I was in the room with you both. 🙂
    Sheesh now I am sounding like a perv… hahahaha
    Lets veered away from that thought… 😉

    Awesome, can I say congratulations? It sounds wrong but what the hell I will still say it. 😀
    Glad Anne was able to give you what you needed.

    Oooooh, she is leaving? You will be alone? ooooh What happened? Can’t wait to find out.

    ~~s

    Liked by 1 person

    1. In some ways, I feel like the perv writing so explicitly (dear lord, I hope Anne never reads this, but knowing her she wouldn’t be offended). But, before I even decided to write a blog I wanted to write down what I experienced, hoping to capture the memory as best I could. After all, if I’m paying for these experiences with my soul, I may as well get my monies worth 😛

      The narrative feels incomplete without telling it all I’m afraid.

      You’ll see…

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I’ll see.. I have to wait. whaaaa
        I figured you would say that but you are such a tease!
        That’s ok. I like it. 😉

        Hurry up and write. 🙂

        And that is right if you are going to hell might as well live it up fully. Making each experience count.:D

        By the way I’ll see you there since I have my own sins to deal with. Let’s party it up! hahahaha

        Liked by 1 person

    1. You’re right. There is a knee jerk reaction to now do everything to reconcile myself to my wife out of intense remorse, but that may not be the right option for me, my wife, or my child. So, I’m trying to take an honest look back at my marriage and decide where to go from here. I don’t think that I can return to a marriage like I had. It will only lead to an even worse condition in the end.

      Like

      1. I would tend to agree.. the old addage of ‘fake it till you make it’ doesn’t seem to apply in all cases.
        There will always be remorse, there will always be opportunity cost, fear of being lonely without anyone to care for you when you’re old etc.
        Perhaps some feedback/comment from actual divorcees would help?

        Like

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