The Way Back
written by:
xited

The Way Back By: Xited

Hi, I'm a housewife, maybe I'm your wife. I've been married to my husband for quite some time. I live the average life. Have you ever noticed that the word life without the "f" is lie? I have. I guess I live both.

Somewhere along the way I became this woman that is talking to you today. A woman who has managed to lose the figure that once attracted my husband so much he couldn't keep his hands off of me. We were so hot that we were worse than two horny teenagers looking for a place to park. Hell, come to think of it, we did park. We giggled and laughed as we tried to untangle our half clothed bodies from around steering wheel and gear shift

Now we discuss who has time to drop the car off at the dealership to have it serviced.

I am the woman that used to stay up all night and until early morning hours with my new husband figuring out new positions for us to try to contort our bodies into, just to laugh at the idea we had created and performed some new sexual experience. Then we would fall into each others arms, laughing, kissing, touching, all the while knowing we would be up in a few hours to go to work.

We go to bed at different times now, fall asleep in opposite directions, sometimes pecking the other with a slight brush of the lips, only to wake up, and drag ourselves out of bed. We pass each other in the kitchen, pass along the days schedules, another peck on the lips and then we are off to pursue the day.

I am the woman that used to call my husband just to say something teasing and sexy. I am the woman whose husband used to call her five times a day just to say "I love you," and tease "What you wearing Baby?".

Now if we call each other at all, it‘s usually to see which of us can pick up dinner at the local take out. Sometimes we call to say we will be late, don‘t wait up. Sometimes we call and then say we forgot why we called.

I am the woman who used to entice my husband into the shower with me. I couldn‘t wait to feel the hot water running over my body and feel his hands lather my body from head to toe. I am the woman who once loved to give my husband a blow job in the shower because it felt so wonderful to connect with his body while the water flowed over my face and nipples.

Now I hurry in and out of the shower trying to find new ways to keep him from seeing the body I now live in. Hoping he will not see me in the light and notice the age, the lines, the slightly lower degree to which my breasts now fall. I try to hurry and dress so he won‘t notice so much the extra pounds. Thus, he has become accustomed to doing other things and being other places when I head for the shower.

I am the woman who lives with a man who knows me better than any other human being knows me. Yet, I am so lonely that sometimes I can only hear the empty sounds of silence. Have you ever noticed that when the world is completely quiet you can hear your own heartbeat and your own breath? Have you ever realized that once you‘ve heard it beat so rapidly and you‘ve lost your breath while in the depths of passion, that when it's normal and steady, it can be the saddest and emptiest sound and feeling one can experience.

I am the woman who has managed to become so lost from the only man I ever want to be with that I don‘t know how to find him again. I spend half of my time feeling resentment that he let me get so lost and the other half of my time feeling guilty that I am not being the woman he needs. I feel like he is trapped with me because he promised to love me forever. The problem is, I‘m not the me he made that promise to. Or am I?

Last weekend while cleaning out my closet, I found a journal I started some fifteen years earlier. I started to shift it from one box to another without opening it. As I picked it up and held it in my hands I felt something in me stir.

It was like a gentle yearning. I slid down the wall and found myself sitting on the carpet. I closed my eyes and while holding my old journal I began to feel a multitude of feelings rush through me. They were uncomfortable at first, then I realized they were scary. The longing that came over me seemed to be the strongest of these feelings. The longing not to go back but to find the place where I became disconnected and then to find an answer that would tell me how to reconnect. I opened the journal and looked at my own handwriting, felt the pages, raised it to my nose and breathed in the scent of the old book. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that I was holding a part of me. It was the me that I lost somewhere and have not been able to locate.

I began to read the pages, slowly and intently. I felt somewhere in the words, the pages filled with dates and covered in ink that I knew there was a path, a map if you will, a way back. I knew as if the skies opened up and delivered a message to me by an angel that the key to finding my husbands desire for me and my desire for life was going to be found in this journal. I would find some peace in my own words.

Journal entry: "As he looked into my eyes tonight I could feel his love for me and his desire to join his body with mine. I know that he does not even know what I am wearing or the style of my hair. He seems to see straight through to my soul. I have never wanted anything as much as I want him now.

He has this way of accepting me with all my flaws. I know I will never love like this or be loved like this again.

He began to undress me, as he did, I could feel the way he looked at me but continued his stare until he saw through me. I know that he will undress me like this for the rest of my life if I let him. I am so much in love.

He held me so close and kissed me. I've never been kissed with such passion before. I cannot believe how wonderful it is when he puts his mouth to mine and brings his tongue inside my mouth to find out everything he can about me. If it is like this now I can only imagine what it will be like when we are old and grey. My body aches for him to touch it. I have infinite thoughts about all the ways he will touch me in the years to come.

Tonight we made love under the stars. He undressed me so slowly while I stood on the blanket under the moonlight. He touched every inch of my body as if he needed and wanted to commit it to memory. He placed my breasts in his hands and lightly squeezed them, ran his thumbs over each nipple while kissing my neck. I felt my knees wobble and my stomach was filled with butterflies. I never knew that a woman could be so wet between her legs. He whispered in my ear, "I love you."

He began to move down my body to my stomach and then along the sides of my belly and the curve of my waist, the curve of my hips, running his hands along my skin so softly it caused me to moan with the passion and ecstasy that a woman only dreams of feeling.

I lowered myself to the blanket and he followed resting only moments to remove his clothes.

As I looked at him in the moonlight he was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. There is something about him. Maybe most people would look at us and think we are just average. That is what is so wonderful about the way I feel with him. I don't have to be anything very special to anyone else. In his eyes, in his world I am all there is. He seems to have found what he wants to touch, to hold, to make love to and to look at for the rest of his life. He just wants me.

I closed the journal and sat there staring into space. I began to remember that night and how he held me under the stars. He kissed and licked my belly with such passion. I became lost in the lust and the night. I felt him over me, then in me, then on me. He moved in between my legs and gently spread them apart with his hands. He began to kiss the mound of my pussy. I was so raw. I had not even learned about women who shaved enough just to make their pussy look nicer, much less that anyone shaved their entire pussy. I was not ashamed of having pussy hair. I did not have inhibitions that night. I never gave thought to being unkempt or tangled hair.

I pulled on his head until he lifted it from my pussy and feebly in a most inarticulate way asked him to turn around. I didn't have to say give me your cock. I just let him know in my own special way what I wanted and he seemed to be in heaven. I was no great lover, I sucked on his cock without any expertise, just the sweetness of a woman in love. He acted like I was Linda Lovelace. I tried to stroke his shaft while I sucked, but I was not talented in this way. I would never know this. He was so hard and so excited by me, just the way I was, that he exploded on my face trying to pull his cock from my mouth because he didn't want to do something that might make me feel uncomfortable.

Later we laughed and talked about how we would do it differently next time. We talked about the feeling of our bodies together. He and I sat under the stars and the moon naked together, so perfectly comfortable that night."

I wonder when it was that I became so terrified that he would feel differently about me, that he would find me so undesirable just because the years had made changes to me. Why had I convinced myself that this man who never saw anything but beauty in me when we were in the throws of passion back then, would see me ugly or disgusting now. I began to feel that I had been unfair to him. I was feeling as if I had been cheating him out of years of passion and unfulfilled desires because I decided for him what he would like, what he would want, what he longed for. I made these decisions, not him. I shut myself off from his love and his needs because I decided for us what the limits of our relationship would be.

My journal so plainly reminded me that we promised each other all those years ago that our relationship would never have limits when it came to the two of us. We wanted each other just as we were. How could I have decided that what I saw in the mirror each day was what he saw. Even if it was the same image that he saw, who was I to decide for him what he thought of it or how it made him feel? What had I been doing to us? Could I find a way back for us? I know in my heart that what has happened to us took years to happen and that it can't be changed in one day. I also know that it will never change if it isn't started one day. This is to be that day.

I put my head in my hands and rested them on bended knees and I just sat there. I was flooded with emotions. I felt lost and found at the same time. I suddenly felt alive though.

I looked up and as I brushed my hair from my eyes I saw a shelf across the room. On that shelf were fifteen music boxes. Each year on our anniversary my husband gave me a music box. Some of the early ones were right out of a dollar store, later ones he brought to me when he traveled in the Navy, still others were porcelain treasures that this grown man managed to comb through some shop or antique market and search for until he found the one, the only one that he felt would be good enough for me. How could I have not looked at these everyday and given them the attention that he did when he picked them out and protectively cared for them until he turned them over to me.

I remember that once during the early years I teased him saying that most guys wanted to take their wives off on some lust filled anniversary trip. They wanted to outfit them in sexy lingerie and make love to them non stop. His answer to this was simple. He didn't need me in sexy lingerie to be beautiful and desirable, he didn't need some strange and sterile bed when he had one at home that recalled every single time he had taken my body in his arms and made love to me in every way he knew how. He said in words I cannot quote that I was more incredible to him than any song ever written or sung, so he would always bring a song home on our anniversary to remind me that no matter how beautiful the tune or the music box, he thought I was more beautiful than that.

I put my head in my hands again and began to cry uncontrollably. I

I am not sure how long I stayed like that but when I was finished, I pulled myself from the floor and I took the old journal and walked to the bed. I lifted the mattress on my side of our bed and I slid the journal there and let the mattress back down. I vowed right then that that journal would rest beneath where I slept every night for as long as I live, as a reminder of how my life as a woman had begun.

I had only a few hours until my husband would return from work. My head was suddenly spinning. My heart was on fire and my body seemed to be waking up from a long sleep. I had things to get done. I was about to find the man in that journal and when I did, I was not going to try to make up for the lost moments together, but I was certainly going to reintroduce him to a woman he knew many years ago.

I grabbed my purse and took off for some shopping. I made the errands as quickly as possible and got home with little time to spare.

I purchased some glow-in-the-dark stars at the craft store. I pulled the step ladder from the closet and I began to decorate the ceiling in stars. I went to the linen closet and found a plaid blanket and threw it across our bed. I went to the dining room and found every candle in the place and put them around the room. I got the portable CD player from the garage and went through the boxed up CD's we never listened to and found some beautiful romantic music that we had put away long ago and I placed the player on the bedside table. I was humming Rod Stewart's "Tonight's The Night" and grinning. I am feeling so happy, so hopeful. I suddenly have confidence, and then fear, worrying that I've waited to late.

I take a shower and do all the normal beauty things but nothing extraordinary. I brush my hair and leave it down. I put on just some light make-up but nothing that really tries to hide me or cover any natural ageing that has occurred. I take the time to put on some perfume and dab a bit in a few extra special places. Looking at the clock I see that he will be coming in at any moment.

I quickly go around the room and light all the candles. Turn on the music low. Close all the drapes and check to see if the stars on the ceiling are glowing, and they are perfect. I climb onto the bed and center myself on the blanket, I lean back rest my head on a pillow, knees bent and I wait.

Within minutes I hear the downstairs door open and close. "Honey," He calls. "I'm here." I wait, listening. Another familiar sound, the refrigerator opens and I hear the top pop on a beer. Now he will wander around drinking the beer looking for me. He will no doubt pass the kitchen table where he will find the note I left there in bold letters saying, "I'm in the bedroom, I really need you, could you come right up, please."

I hear his footsteps approaching, then the door opens at the same time he asks if everything is okay. His face is priceless as he gets the first glance of the room and me. I saw a man that I had not seen in many, many years. Before my very eyes, years melted away off of his face, his posture. He broke into this amazing smile that I had not seen in so long I had forgotten it. I began to beam to. I felt knots in my throat, but somehow managed to blurt out, "Want a date sailor?".

He responded so quickly with, "No Mam, with the wife I've got, I won't be needing any dates." He slipped out of his shoes and came over to sit on the side of the bed. He started to say something but I reached up and took his face and I planted a kiss on him that had to make him dizzy. "Let's not talk right now," I said softly. "Let's make love on a blanket under the stars."

I saw the same look on his face as he stared right through me like I was perfection. Everything about me came to life. I began to pull and tug at all of his clothing trying to get it off. I didn't care if I was being suave or sophisticated. I wanted heat and passion, I wanted him. I wanted to show him the woman that made him unable to completely control his body all those years ago. I felt like I was absolutely perfect at this moment and that I had no age, or flaws. Just this body attached to this spirit, meant to please this man, always.

He pulls me into his arms kissing me with his tongue completely searching the inside of my mouth and reacquainting itself with my tongue as though they are long lost friends who have been separated by no choice of their own. They seem to be making their own vow never to be separated again. He starts kissing my neck and moves down my body. He lingers at each breast, suckling them tenderly and looking at them like he just found something very special to him that has been lost. He holds them and brushes his fingers across my nipples watching to see what happens. I let out a sigh softly, then a moan. He continues down my stomach and kisses all the skin that he can put under his lips.

I find myself relaxing back onto the bed feeling it all. All the inhibitions melting away, all the doubts being resolved as he continues to explore my body like it is the first time on a blanket under the stars. He takes his fingers and runs them through the pubic hair on the mound above my pussy, then lightly runs his hands over my pussy stopping on my thighs and gently pulls them apart, after which he begins kissing them alternately with such intensity. I have missed this so much. He kisses his way completely down both legs and to my feet. Then, he stands at the end of the bed. I can see that his cock is so hard it is standing out from his body. I start to raise myself up to come to the end of the bed and take him but he holds his hand up to stop me and I lay myself back down.

He gently puts his hands at my hips and rolls me over on my stomach. I can feel him beginning at my ankles kissing his way up my calves. Sometimes as he moves I feel the head of his cock lightly rub up against my skin and I begin to burn in my pussy and my thighs with an ache I have not felt in so very long. He reaches my ass and he kisses each cheek thoroughly then takes his tongue and pulls it firmly between the crack. My legs independently open themselves and I feel cool air rush across my pussy, sending shivers up my torso. As he moves to my back continuing his kissing trail, I feel his cock as it grazes the slit of my pussy and on up and over the mid part of my ass. I can hardly stand this. He continues up and kisses my neck and shoulders until he finally is holding himself up above me.

I am moaning almost uncontrollably. I cannot see his face, but I feel him there. I feel this connection, his want, his need, his appreciation. I feel him looking at me, that way, the way that the journal talked about. He takes his hands and places them on my waist then pulls slightly indicating to me that he wants me to come up on my hands and knees. As I do this I feel the weight of my breasts hanging beneath me and I glance down. I am suddenly aware that they are beautiful. They are not firm and tight, they are not twenty years younger, but they are beautiful. My skin is clear and my nipples the size of half dollars. The areolas are dark and defined. My nipples taut, standing out, pleading to be noticed. I feel him move in behind me and tease the opening to my drenched, begging pussy with the head of his throbbing cock. I cannot help myself, I push back into him with my ass, urging him to please, please enter me, the unspoken words must have penetrated his ears somehow because he pushed his cock into my pussy with a gentle, firm thrust and I heard him moan with the passion in his sounds that I had not heard in so long I forgot he sounded like that. I smiled to myself. He was back. He is mine.

He pumped his cock in me with the motion and rhythm that my body used to be familiar with. My body responded with a resounding welcome home by immediately going into an intense spasm with it's first orgasm of this magnitude in many years I reached under myself with one hand and held my clit with my fingers as the orgasm faded away. I needed to feel myself as this occurred. He continued pumping in me until I heard him begin to build low moans into loud groans. I could feel his balls slapping the back of my pussy lips forcefully. I wanted to reach them to hold them and squeeze them but the reach was just too far. I could only imagine what they felt like, hard beneath the velvet soft skin of his sac. At last I felt his hands tighten around my waist and he straightened his body as he pulled my butt hard into his groin and he screamed as he let go of everything in him. He thrust over and over with each thrust a new groan and more cum. He had so much built up inside of him even after the cum had ended he kept pumping himself into me. Finally he rested. We collapsed onto the bed staring upward at the stars.

As he lay there speechless, he continued to play with my nipples. I don't even think he realized he was doing it. It reminded me of a time when that was something we did together when we were alone anywhere it was private. It came as easy to us as holding hands. I had been missing this affection and attention so badly. I had shut myself off from this wonderful little pleasure, him just touching a place on my body reserved for him, because I had this notion that my body was somehow no longer adequate or desirable. Why? I don't know how that happened, I don't know how it lasted so long. As I began to have all the feelings awaken again, I began my exploration of his body. It was his turn to lie on the blanket, staring at the ceiling with it's stars, or watching me as I rediscovered his flesh. I began much like he had with me. Kissing his neck and lightly running my fingertips over the muscles in his arms. I stop momentarily to just look and remember, I realize how much I've missed him. As I look at this body below me I have flashes in my mind of all the times he held me when I cried, the times he helped me up and put me to bed when I was sick. The times he pulled me close to dance with him when he hated dancing. I was overcome with emotion and the tears were running from my eyes down my cheeks. I looked at him and tears stained his cheeks too. We smiled at each other never exchanging a word, then I began to move over his body once more.

When I reached his abdomen, I took my hand and wrapped it around his semi erect cock. I lowered my head over him and I kissed the head, which still tasted of our cum. I remembered the journal and how inexperienced I had been at one time. I also remembered that even from the first time I ever did this for him it was wonderful. It was a part of him that when connected to me made us one. The thought of this made me open my mouth wider and slowly engulf his manhood in my warm mouth where my tongue greeted him with love and acceptance. I began to suck his cock with vigor. I stroked it and moved my hand down to his balls, squeezing them like they were in need of my special touch. I continued to move my mouth up and down on his cock, sucking and kissing, licking and stroking. I felt it grow in my mouth. It was begging me not to stop, not to go. I intended to stay there until I brought him completely back into my world. I wanted every part of him to believe that I was never going to be gone again.

He began to move about with his hips and he began to thrust his cock into my throat. He was getting harder and moaning louder. I felt his hands on my head with the warning that he was going to cum and it was time for me to remove myself from him because he could no longer wait. Instead of lifting my head and sitting on his cock with my pussy to receive his hot liquid, I pushed my face deep into his groin, I felt the pubic hair around his cock tickle my face and nose, I smelled his scent and committed it to memory, I pushed as far as I could and he exploded once again with every drop going down my throat. We at last were completely connected with each other. His cum in my pussy, his cum in my stomach, my cum on his cock. It was perfect.

When he regained his composure, he leaned up on one elbow and he looked at me. He was completely serious. "I have missed you." he said with a cracked voice. "I knew you were in there. I didn't know how to find you." He continued. "I waited, knowing, that one day this day would come. I would have and always will wait the rest of my life for you."

I threw myself across his chest, and held him like he might slip away if I didn't hold him tight enough.

As we lay there in each others arms, I felt my body begin to ache once more. I don't think it ever really stopped, I just had a short attention change. I pulled myself up and straddled his face. I turned with my face toward his cock and I lowered my pussy over his mouth. For a long time I rested my head on his abdomen and just held his limp cock in my fingers watching it, toying with it while I enjoyed the pleasures of his warm mouth and sweet tongue. I knew he was pretty tired and I really did not expect him to have another erection so soon, but I loved just holding this part of him once again in my hands.

I felt the heat in my pussy begin. The pressure building in my pussy. The amazing butterflies in my stomach and the roller coaster ride of pleasure that teased my clit. I knew that I was about to react to his mouth with such enthusiasm that the orgasm would probably cover his face. I raised myself up and as I did he took my clit between his teeth gently pressing. He inserted a finger in my pussy, now drenched with juices from his body as well as mine. I moved my head down to place his cock which was semi erect in my mouth and I mildly sucked it while he brought me to a climax that shook my entire body. For as long as that climax lasted, as long as my body was stiff, as long as my muscles were taut, I sucked with the same soft pressure on his cock, and as my body relaxed, I let my mouth open and set him free.

We lay there for some time. We talked a little, mostly we just held and touched each other. I know that this is not the end of my journey back to my husband. It is the beginning. I know that I will battle the inhibitions and insecurities that come with growing older from now on. I also know that when I feel lost, I will pull that journal from beneath my mattress often. I will open it and read until I am reminded of the way back.