Rez and I have been married for almost 27 years. While I had gone to church as a child, I had not walked a godly path before our marriage in our early twenties.
Sad to say, we didn’t afterward either. We both made some really bad choices, separately and together, that eventually came close to ending our marriage. All that to say I carry a lot of baggage and, even though I know I’m forgiven by both God and my husband, sometimes it still comes back to haunt me.
Maybe some of you can relate. Or maybe you know or will meet someone in this boat someday. Please remember that God is able to redeem all.
Now, I want you to realize that my husband knows everything and assures me that he loves me, not despite what our past holds but because of it. He says that I’m perfect for him and that the past is part of the reason why. What matters now is that I’m his, and his only.
He loves my sex drive and my kinky streak. He loves how I talk dirty to him and am usually insatiable. It blesses him when I initiate encounters and dress to please him. My suggestions for role play and sharing my fantasies during sex (most of which we both agree stay fantasies – and private) drive him wild! He enjoys that nearly everything he suggests gets me hot and that I’m willing to experiment and learn new techniques to please him and myself.
He also loves that I do not feel the least demeaned when he compliments me on my “slutty” traits and skills. I don’t think of them as such, just as being good at pleasing my man. But I don’t mind if he uses that word or thinks of me as his personal “slut”. Most of the time, that is.
But sometimes, for a moment…
Case in point: One night last week, when I started giving him his bedtime suck, Rez didn’t drift off to sleep as planned. Instead, his cock thickened and hardened in my mouth rather quickly (which has been happening more and more, lately. Hmm.) I started giving him more than just a gentle sucking off.
Before long, Rez reached down and grabbed two handfuls of my hair. He started ramming my mouth down on his dick and shoving it deep in my throat, gagging me. Then he moved one hand to the back of my neck and, squeezing gently, pushed until my mouth met his belly and balls.
Let me assure you, this is normally one of the most wonderful experiences for me. I love how it feels, the wild abandon of the moment, and how my actions have stirred him to such passion. Opening my throat to accept him sends a rush of pleasure through me and I have been known to squirt when I gag. (There really ought to be a better word for that. Valley Girl talk ruined it for me. 😁) And the slimy saliva generated by his deep thrusting? Best. Lube. Ever. Gathering it onto my tongue and lips or raking or spitting it into my hand, I slather it all over his rod while I pump it.
But this night, when I looked up into his face, I wondered, ‘Is he is thinking of me as who I used to be?’ Suddenly, I was – and feeling very bad about it.
I pulled my mouth away and sat up. (Even the slightest hint that I might not be enjoying something we are doing sexually is enough for him to stop immediately. That’s one reason I trust him so.) I spoke his name.
He looked at me expectantly. “Yes?”
“I need to hear that you love me right now.”
Rez sat up and enfolded me in his arms. He looked deep into my eyes for long moments. Then his voice came to me, soft and husky.
“I love you with all my heart. I have for decades.”
My kiss fell on his gorgeous, full-bearded mouth. “I felt it in your eyes before you even said it,” I said, a little teary. “But don’t ever let me forget it. I am yours, completely, and we can do anything with each other, as long as I remember that you love me.”
He pulled me up from sitting between his legs and lay down with me cuddled on his shoulder. Kissing me tenderly and stroking my arm, he held me against him until we drifted off to sleep.