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I love my boyfriend. Meeting Max was one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
After a messy, painful divorce from a controlling husband, Max came into my life like a gift from above. Being in my mid-40s and divorced, I was feeling jaded and alone. I wondered if I would ever find love again. But I did. And I am forever grateful that the universe brought us together.
I met him online — and was immediately drawn to his genuine, boyish smile and thoughtful demeanor. His slim, fit body and shorter stature made him absolutely adorable to me. It would usually take me at least six or seven dates to sleep with someone, but somehow Max managed to get me into bed on our fourth date. I’m not a prude, but am by no means a one night stand kind of gal.
Having sex with Max was healing. Sex in my marriage was awful — often painful and humiliating. But in Max, I found a wonderful lover — patient, fun, and sexy. The first year of our relationship was non-stop sex and more orgasms than I could ever want. It made me more confident about myself and my body. I used to lament that my breasts weren’t as pert as they used to be, or that my ass wasn’t as tight. But when we made love, Max worshipped every part of my body, making me feel whole and loved. After sex, he would always whisper into my ear “I Love You Diane” and it would send shivers down my spine.
I realized that despite my ex-husband’s criticisms, I do, in fact, have a good body. I’m tall and relatively slim. My chest fills out a bathing suit nicely and my ass can still turn heads.
Max and I moved in together after a year of dating. It was an adjustment. As anyone whose been married knows, dating and living together are two very different things. We had the usual fights about household chores and bathroom time, but we slowly figured it out. Our respective schedules however became a sticking point.
Max is an actor and often out of town — usually six months out of the year. I love watching him perform — it’s a turn on. I always make the time to visit him wherever he may be, but my own work is very demanding, and I obviously cannot be with him for that long. It’s a great deal of time apart.
It didn’t seem to bother Max, but it bothered me, and it bothered me that it didn’t bother him. Max loves his work — he’s passionate about it. It’s one of the things I love about him. I like my work well enough, but it’s demanding. I work in a fast-moving corporate environment that requires 12-hour days and some of my own travel as well. Even when we’re both in town, I don’t have enough time with Max.
We’ve been together for five years now, and this is still a sticking point in our relationship. We don’t have a solution but have stayed together. Unfortunately, this situation has taken a toll on our sex life. Last year, we went nearly six months without sex.
I don’t know if it’s simply the nature of long-term relationships, but even when we do have sex, it’s uninspired. We seem to have completely lost our sexual spark. beşiktaş anal yapan escort I hate to admit it, but it had been well over a year since I’d had an orgasm with Max.
Not that I’m having orgasms with anyone else. A therapist once suggested I consider polyamory, but that’s not something I could ever imagine doing. I was raised Catholic. I believe in Monogamy. My parents were together for over 40 years, and almost every day my father brought home a flower for my mother. I know it’s overly romantic and perhaps unrealistic, but it’s a beautiful ideal. It’s the kind of relationship I’ve always wanted.
My actual relationship, however, was in for more challenges. The new year brought more out of town work for Max. He left for Minneapolis in January, leaving me in New York by myself for 2 months. I planned on visiting him later and seeing his show sometime in February, but until then, it was just me and my job.
Work was stressful — corporate environments can sap the life out of you. Thankfully, I have a couple of life saving co-workers who have become good friends. Kelli, a beautiful Chinese woman and Jean-Claude, a lovely, very tall Frenchman, and I have worked together for over 5 years. They are both exceptionally intelligent software developers and have saved my butt countless times. I am a bit of a tech nerd and am really turned on by technical brilliance.
The three of us would occasionally go out for drinks, but it was a rare occasion. Kelli is a new mother, and Jean-Claude is married with two teenage children. But when we did get together, we had a lot to talk about — inept bosses, incompetent co-workers, and unreasonable clients. We also talked about our personal lives a bit — they would both gush about their children. They would also complain about their respective spouses to me. I would sometimes join in — complaining about some of Max’s more annoying habits — but nothing serious.
One Saturday, with Max out of town, I was home alone with no plans. Jean-Claude texted that he and his wife and two sons would be in my neighborhood — would I like to join them for lunch?
We met at a great dim-sum place and had a lovely time. I got to know his wife, Louise, a bit, as well his two very polite well raised boys. After lunch, we were making our good-byes when both Jean-Claude and I got text messages from work. There was an emergency at a client and we were needed asap.
We both gave each other the “You have got to be fucking kidding me” look. Jean-Claude apologized to his family and we headed to the office. On a Saturday!
When we got there, we realized the client had over-reacted. We fixed the issue almost immediately. And we were both aggravated by the client’s stupidity. We walked out of there bitching about it, when Jean-Claude suggested a quick drink. I agreed — we both needed to vent a bit.
We picked a quiet spot and had some wine and talked. And talked. And talked. We never really had so much one beşiktaş bdsm escort on one time before but were able to talk about everything and anything — politics, food, love, relationships. We must have each consumed a bottle of wine. I was tipsy, but Jean-Claude seemed fine. He’s French, after all.
Leaving the wine bar and walking to the subway I took note of how tall and slim Jean-Claude is — at least 6’4″. Being 5’10”, I often tower over some of the shorter men in the office, as I do over Max a bit. But Jean-Claude towered over me. At the subway, before getting on different trains, we hugged. We really hugged. A full-bodied hug. I could feel his toned body and his long strong arms. I could feel my breasts press against him. And I think I felt his cock grow against me. I couldn’t be sure, but that’s certainly what it felt like.
That night I had a Skype session with Max — he told me about his show, and I mentioned having lunch with Jean-Claude and his family and the ensuing work emergency — I didn’t mention anything else. I don’t know why. Nothing had happened. There was nothing to hide. But I still didn’t mention it.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I would never cheat on Max. I have never cheated on anyone in my life. But I really loved spending time with Jean-Claude. I loved talking to him. I love his brilliant mind. And I would be lying if I didn’t admit how much I loved our prolonged hug. It felt good. It felt safe. And it felt a little sexy.
The next week was relatively normal — Jean-Claude and I had our usual work conversations, but nothing out of the ordinary. I wondered if Jean-Claude had a similar experience of that Saturday. I did have a bottle of wine after all — and don’t have the tolerance that he does. Maybe the hug was completely innocent and maybe I didn’t feel his cock harden against me.
On Friday, we ended up having a half-day. By noon, most everyone was gone except for Jean-Claude and myself. He invited me for lunch. He suggested the same dim-sum place in my neighborhood. I accepted.
On the train ride there, we continued our easy (dare I say sexy) banter. The chemistry from the previous Saturday wasn’t my imagination. It was nice. It was nice to flirt. It was nice to be with Jean-Claude.
We had a great lunch — and being that it was Friday, Jean-Claude suggested wine to celebrate. I told him he would hate the wine at a dim-sum restaurant, so we had a few shots of Saki instead. Being a lightweight, I was a bit tipsy. I think even Jean-Claude was a bit tipsy.
We walked back to the subway and again hugged before parting ways. It was just like the hug last week. But longer. Tighter. His tall frame enveloping me felt so safe. So wonderful. And there was no mistake this time. I could feel him growing against me. I could feel myself moistening.
We separated briefly and looked at each other. We saw each other. I could see everything in his eyes — fear, hope, lust. I’m sure he saw the same things beşiktaş elit escort in me. He kissed me. I kissed him back. On a street corner on a Friday afternoon in my neighborhood, these two other-wise attached middle-aged professionals were making out like teenagers. It was glorious.
I suddenly stopped and separated myself from him. Realizing we were in my neighborhood put me in a slight panic. Who had seen us? What if one of my neighbors saw me kissing this stranger? Neither of us said anything for a very long uncomfortable minute. I started to walk away. And then I utterly shocked myself. “Would you like to come to my place,” I asked.
The five-minute walk to my apartment felt like an hour. Neither of us said anything. We remained silent in the elevator as it went up the six floors to my apartment. But the moment I opened my apartment door, we became long lost ravenous lovers.
We stripped each other instantly, frenetically. We had a raw animalistic need to touch each other. By the time we got to the bedroom we were completely naked and rolling around on the bed. I felt Jean-Claude’s large hands envelop my ass and his hard cock against me. I turned him over onto his back and kissed my way down his smooth toned chest. I worked my down to his cock and just stared at it for a moment.
I had never been much for giving head, but I wanted nothing more than to put Jean-Claude’s cock in my mouth. It was beautiful. Smooth, straight, and enormous. I would never consider myself a size queen, but I was mesmerized by the huge cock in front of my face. It had to be at least eight inches long, and quite thick. Max’s cock is lovely, but average in size. I hadn’t had a cock this big inside of me since I was in my twenties. I wasn’t sure if I could handle it. But I was going to find out.
I gave Jean-Claude a blowjob to end all blowjobs worshipping his package with my mouth and tongue and hands. He returned the favor by moving me off his cock and positioning himself between my legs — he licked me with abandon and with his fingers brought me to what would be one of many orgasms that afternoon.
Getting on top of me, he spread my legs wide and slid his enormous member into me. He started slowly, but he didn’t need to. I was so wet it went inside me easily, and it felt oh so wonderful. His cock was hitting spots in me that hadn’t been touched in decades. I came repeatedly.
We switched to doggy style. On all fours, I could see us in a full-length mirror at the corner of the room. Jean-Claude’s body thrusting into me — his face flush with pleasure. My own face glowing with ecstasy and my hair disheveled. My breasts swaying with every thrust. It was an incredibly sexy sight.
In the mirror, I watched Jean Claude’s face and body spasm as he came. It felt like rivers of cum flowing into me.
We collapsed in each other’s arms. We didn’t say anything. We just enjoyed the after-glow. I don’t think we knew what to say to each other. It was just after 5pm. Jean-Claude had to get back to his family. I had a Skype date with Max.
We had one long deep passionate kiss before Jean-Claude left. And a hug. A long sexy hug that could have easily led to another round of passion — but we had to get back to our lives.
That night when Skyping with Max, he asked how my day was.
“Pretty good, how was yours?” I replied.
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