Another lovely day. In the afternoon she takes the kids climbing. I stay home and clean the house. I do all of the housework now. (As part of my strategy to increase her sex drive. Along with many other things, like the flowers, the chocolates, attentively listening, little romantic gifts and gestures, and much more.) It always worries me when she takes the kids climbing. She lets them take on challenges that I wouldn’t, even if I was climbing with them, which she isn’t. She never seems concerned. They’ve yet to come to any harm. As ever I’m relieved that she’s brought them both back unscathed. I’m probably paranoid, having been partially crippled in my own fall. I ask how it was. She’s breathless and exuberant. She grabs herself a drink of water from the kitchen tap. Talking through mouthfuls of water and deep breaths. “Great!… Brendon is getting really good!... I reckon he’s already better than you.’ “As if.” I smile. “They had a great time... They were both really good with each other... Brendon’s such a fantastic big brother…. Have you actually cleaned this fucking sink!?” “Seriously? I’ve cleaned the whole house.” “What… properly?” She comes at me laughing and starts roughly ticking at my ribs. It’s actually painful. I wrestle with her. Trying to shake her off. Then suddenly she stops. ‘Oh my God!’ Her eyes are wide as if in shock. ‘What?’ “We saw Steve! He was climbing at Buckbarrow with no ropes. Free climbing!” “Yeah.. he does that.” “I couldn’t believe it. It must have been a sheer 300ft. Imagine if he fell. I was so scared for him. I actually had butterflies. I watched him all the way up. My heart was in my mouth…’ “He’s probably climbed that 300 times.” “…He’s so strong. The strength that he must have in those arms! To hold and lift his body the way he does...” “Well he’s only made of bone and muscle. He’s built like a cheetah.” “…I was so relieved when he got to the top. I literally breathed a massive..” I’ve zoned out. I’m only pretending to listen now. Soon the kids come in from the garden and I’m reprieved from having to hear any more about Spiderman. She talks about him every time she runs into him. I’m fed up of hearing about him. But at least I know she’s run into him and I’ve no need to be concerned about it. In the evening she comes to bed wearing those crotchless knickers. I still can’ t believe that she asked me to buy them for her. I suggested them a year ago and she was not receptive. She told me that they were weird and that she couldn’t understand why anyone would wear them. Then out of the blue (at Christmas) she asked me when was I going to buy her some crotchless knickers. Obviously I went straight out and got some. She claims to have no recollection of previously rejecting them. Nor of saying that they are weird. (Incidentally ‘weird’ is also the word that she used, when I upset her, by telling her I’d had a dream in which she was having sex with someone else.) She snuggles into my arms and I kiss her. I gently feel for the split in the crotch. Then I move my hand away up her body. She puts it straight back between her legs. I gently stroke the split crotch. Slowly working my finger into her moistening vulva as she kisses me passionately. I lightly massage her clitoris. Slowly working my middle finger into her wet cunt as she slides her tongue into my mouth and then bites my bottom lip. (Just recently bottom lip biting seems to have become her thing.) She tells me I must lick her pussy. She says ‘I thought it was the only thing you were good at?’. I slide down between her legs and pass my mouth slowly over her waxed crotch. Making sure that she can feel my breath as I pass over her pussy but not touching it. I talk to it. Silently. I mouth the words just so close that she can feel my lips moving over her labia and clitoris. Tickling with my silently moving lips. “I want you to be my hotwife… I want you to fuck other men… I love you… You deserve this…You can have it all…” Occasionally I break to kiss her inner thighs or lower stomach, before returning to my silent mantra. Eventually sliding my fat tongue gently right into her. She moans ‘God I need a big cock.’ I lick her clitoris and massage her opening with one finger until her cum is dripping down her ass onto the bed sheets. She stops me and sits me upright. She dives straight for my erect cock with her mouth. The pain from my back injury, due to the odd way that I’m knelt, is agonizing. But it’s worth suffering for the encompassing, rhythmic, pulsating, sensation in my cock as she sucks it hard and slow. This is a rare treat! I seldom get a blow job these days. I look down at her and she’s beautiful. Her taught body. Her blonde hair. I enjoy it until the pain in my back outweighs the pleasure. I push her down onto the bed and mount her. She grasps my left pectoral with her right hand and commands ‘Hold me strong. Firm but gentle’. I slide my cock halfway into her as I lick one of her nipples. She arches her back and grinds her hips. I keep to her rhythm. I bring her to the brink of orgasm and then slow down. Leaving her to come back down before sinking full length into her. Strong unyielding thrusts. Slow and deep. She moans ‘Fuck me harder’. We grind together hard and fast. I slide my hand under her ass but she pulls it back and entwines her fingers into mine. She lays her hand, still locked with mine, on the pillow next to her head. My arm is outstretched like I’m pinning her down. Again she commands me: “Be strong!” I try to make my body as taught and strong as I can muster. My other arm is wrapped beneath her waist. It must be uncomfortable for her or even hurting. (I had tried to move it but she had stopped me.) She pants: “Oh god!… Oh god I want to cum all over your cock!” When she comes she is loud enough to wake the neighbors. As ever I try to stay on the spot, to keep her rhythm, to keep her going for as long as I can. When she’s done I imagine that I’m some random guy that she’s pulled and brought home to fuck whilst I watch. Releasing myself into her as she grasps my face with both hands and kisses me hard. Nowadays I always imagine that I’m another guy when make love. That turns me on. Those crotchless knickers might be weird but they certainly seem to turn her on.