I kissed a girl, and I liked it...

The bisexual fantasies we play at in bed usually involve my imagining the follow on post by my wife being thus-ly titled.

In the rich aural experience of her imaginative erotic tales spun midst past sessions in bed, often she tells of seduction of some young ingenue, testing her limits and urging her past them.

She was a bit like that with me last night.

Pretty unexpected given the long drought. She is a bit more assertive in life having returned to the small town she grew up in.

Last night after a thourough fairly full-body mole/blemish/assorted curiosities check, I suggested she would be more comfortable if she were also shirtless.

She agreed, and I exchanged a front rub for the back rub that was the apology tendered for the pain she had caused extracting various ingrown hairs and others of its ilk.

Not necessarily tit-for-tat as it were, but I was a bit out of practice.

I then offered an ingrown check in her nether regions, which in the cold light of day sounds neither romantic nor particularly attractive.

Having gotten her pants off I proceeded to perform my very best version of a cunninlingus technique explained to me by a charitable bi-sexual girl. She writhed appreciatively and often.

I began adding first a finger, then two. Some discomfort seemed evident so I prodded and adjusted carefully. When I seemed to have achieved angle and acquiescence I noted that some additional naturally occurring lubricant wouldn't be amiss. Generally, some foreplay fixes that. And yes, I am well aware how lucky I am the the foreplay that works best is her performing some fellatio. ~shrug~

I rotated around aiming eventually for a 69 position, which in truth often devolves to 68 where I owe her one. Which seemed OK, given I had at least this time gotten a head start on the debt.

As my posterior got in range a bit, she began grasping and stroking me a bit through my shorts. Then pressure was shifted and applied generally to my perineum and then specifically to my, er well you you know..~blush~ back there, through the shorts.

She got a bit more intrusive, then roughly pulled the shorts down just enough to access, and slipped a finger in. There was a noticeable increase in wetness, showing me that perhaps its not a fellatio specific response so much as a please the other person arouses her response.

In a throaty voice she more or less ordered me to my knees and continued to press into me...I was dry and stretched and uncomfortable but very much aroused. She said,

"Can you take another?"

"Uh, how many do you have in now??"

"Two."

That somewhat explained the discomfort.

I'm not sure if I answered the question or not. Face pressed to the mattress I willed myself to relax.

Reading my mind, or perhaps my tensed body...

"Relax..",

She said.

Sidling up to me, she used the thrust of her pelvis on the forward stroke, clearly "fucking" me.

"Isn't 'fucking' someone great?" I gasped out between tensing.

She rolled off and assumed a more submissive posture and let me reclaim the dominant position. I didn't last long.

Afterward, a little chagrined, as I get in these situations, I said to her her,

"Next time: one word: LUBE. I'm a little sore"

"One word, NO!" she said. "Or, STOP!. Or OW!"

"I thought it would get easier if I held out," I replyed.

"Men always think that..." She said bemused.

When she kissed and seduced a girl, I never really picture me as the fuckee. Especially not in male mode. There is undeniably an unstated homo-erotic content to this play for us, though clearly the act itself between a male and a female is by definition not and for many couples comfortable free-wheeling play.

This was, like all similar mostly unblogged about experiences, both very hot and a little disturbing. Not so much disturbing as disconcerting.

This morning, a little sore, it was arousing to think about the source of that little reminder.

Up earlier than her, I crawled in next to her sleeping form and attempted, probably unwisely to re-channel the time. I hoarsed to her some comment about how what was hot wasn't the prostate massage, which missed the mark. Rather it was her course whispers of encouragement. I was actually fishing for direct quotes of what it was she said during as I can't quite gather them. Sleeping, I don;t think she even really had any idea what I was saying or doing for a while.

We ended up inflagrante or some such and I finished fairly quickly though not as soon as the night before. She, having 'finished' a time or two before me, sleepily said as I rolled off, "But you didn't finish..."

I explained with a smile that I did, and went to make her some breakfast as sort of an apology to the sleepus interuptus.