My name is Jan Herbert. I'm an attorney, as is my husband, Brant. I have medium brown hair and on my toes I'm 5' tall. My boobs are a 34C, and I've never done any grooming down below. I haven't had to; I just have a small patch of pubic hair; just about the same color as the hair on my head.
Brant is 5' 10" tall. He wasn't my first, my second or even my third. Okay, you get the picture; not that I'm some kind of floozy, but most of the guys I've been with tell me I'm a great fuck, and that's after the fact. Brant tells me that all the time. When I'm getting fucked, my small ass is a perpetual motion machine. I once spent a weekend with a guy who outweighed me by over one hundred pounds. My ass lifted him off the bed. Easy-peasy. He was in awe.
Our first few years of marriage, our sex life was great. Although, just average in size, Brant's cock did wonderful things to me, as did his tongue. He called my pussy his dessert. As in, "Jan, I'd like some dessert tonight."
I didn't call his cock my dessert, but I thought my mouth provided him with a stellar performance when I got on my knees, which I did willingly and frequently. To be honest, I'd had considerable practice with numerous cocks before I was married.
Together, we decided to come up with creative ways to liven up our marriage.
You have to understand, our careers gave us the financial means and the free time to engage in these.
We found that there was a ski area in Colorado with a long two-person gondola. In my back pack, I had a rolled-up tarp. I spread it on the floor, and Brant fucked me on the way up.
Brant just had the tarp rolled-up and I had my ski pants back on as we reached the top.
We had lunch at the top and then Brant made some excuse to the lift attendant, and we were able to ride the gondola down. The gondola went down and so did I. Brant praised my blowjob skills. I was wiping cum from the corners of my mouth as we reached the bottom.
Another time, we flew to the Caribbean and paid a cab driver to take us to a beach where we could be assured of complete privacy. We fucked there, too. I ended up with sand in my vagina. Brant insisted that the only way to get it out was with his tongue. Who was I to argue? His tongue did me right there on that beach. It was very romantic.
We had sex in five-star hotels and in rural cabins. Talk about a roll in the hay; we did it in a barn. We fucked in an igloo and Brant fucked me from behind in a hot air balloon.
We chartered a plane and explained to the pilot that we wanted to join the Mile High Club. He understood and closed the cockpit door while Brant fucked me in the back of the plane.
A month later, we chartered the same plane with the same pilot, but this time Brant got a blowjob.
It wasn't enough to keep our marriage from going stale.
TO BE CONTINUED
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