Honey, We're Back

"It's not my fault I have a past"

This is what my wife would often say if I seemed upset after she told me about a sexual experience from the past.

"Don't be jealous, I'm with you now, you don't have to be envious of men in the distant past, do you?"

She always thought I was jealous of her, which I was, but I also felt like I wasn't wild enough for her—I wasn't as wild as her ex-boyfriends when it came to pushing boundaries, having threesomes, going to swinger clubs, and having crazy sex.

In any case, she will never be masturbating to me when she's thinking about her sexy memories on her own time.

I was going to show her that I wasn't so plain and give her an experience she would never forget.

I called out, "I'm going to the store, do you want anything?"

She sped into the kitchen and said, "No thanks, babe."

Her red curls were pulled back in a ponytail, and she was wearing old yoga pants and a big t-shirt from when she weighed a bit more. It was a lazy Saturday for her.

She had gained a few pounds about three years ago, but her hard work to lose them made me see her as a queen.
Her breasts were still big and round, but the gym had shaped her arms and chest with toned muscles. Her thick legs had valleyed curves that defined their shape, and her big, perfectly shaped behind could bend steel.