A snapshot, a blurry image forms in my mind, white linen curtains unfurl revealing the feminine shape of a brunet figure masked by the curtains and subtle glow of the full moon as it pours over a mountain valley and through a low hanging palm branch. The moonlight reveals the smooth arch of her back as she looks up toward the moon, the palms of her hands braced against the window sill, the beauty of her naked body is breath taking. Her dimly lit silhouette lead my eyes from the smooth slope of her shoulders to her womanly hips, she turns her head…… the unwelcome screech from the friction of plane tires grinding into the tarmac of the Miami International Airport fills my head as my neck jolts forward thrusting my conscious back into the present. As I reacquaint myself with my surroundings I find Vanessa in the seat next to me. My wife, shoulder length brown hair, slim build and the mother of our two children. She sits quietly, kindle in her lap looking out the window, the bright light coming from the small portal plane window ignites the skin at the edges of her face; she turns to look back at me, the images of the moonlit woman sweep over me again. As my eyes adjust to the bright light to thw window my wife’s green eyes and unmistakable smile fill my view. Unable to mask the excitement in her voice, she taunts me, “Half way there!” as she runs the tip of her finger the length of my chin gently leading my lips to hers.
This flight is the result of six months planning and thirteen years in the making. We are flying to a small Caribbean island, a sort of hidden gem of a place for a well-deserved break from the day to day and to take the opportunity to celebrate our thirteenth wedding anniversary and make a second honeymoon of it. The anticipation of this trip had been building through the weeks leading up to our trip, in addition to the usual activity planning, I’d completed about 80% of the workouts outlined in the P90X fitness series and Vanessa had ramped up her weekly visits to the gym. She had been coyly purchasing undergarments over the last month, making sure I knew that she’d purchased them but never letting my see the actual merchandise. She endured a Brazilian wax the day before and again she was stalwart in her defense of my prying eye’s in the days and hours leading up to our departure. Leaving me to my imagination and the thought of her smooth and bare beneath a lace trimmed pair of panties is intoxicating and the reason for more than one of the erotically fueled forays charging to the forefront of my subconscious, most of which end with my tongue placed hungrily between her legs. I followed suit and did my fair share of “manskaping”. {Note to all husbands out there: We’re not all that attractive in the nether regions, trimming and shaving from stem to stern is a must and pays back dividends.}
I’m somewhat of a glutton for punishment when it comes to delayed gratification. I find the exhilaration of anticipation almost as thrilling as the reward and Vanessa had been the ultimate pay-off to 23 years of virginity and 3 excruciating years of courtship. The crescendo of which played out over the course of a week at the very island we were heading to today. The pressure had been building especially high in the form of the mixed blessing and curse of her monthly cycle whose end occurred just two days prior and almost always marks the peak of the lunar cycle. This month even the news reported that this week was going to be the host to a “Supermoon”, or one of the biggest and brightest full moons of the year the apex of which was going to occur in two days’ time. Meaning I’d been already been cut-off for the preceding week, but so had she and the moon was just about to hit its peak. Vanessa is a rare breed when it comes to sex, as she takes on a sort of Jekyll and Hyde persona when the moon is full, becoming an insatiable force to be reckoned with that more than oft leads to me pleading my case as a mere mortal man bound by the physical limitation of my humanity. So I know every ounce of my anticipating is matched by her own.
As a final measure of preparation I had come up with the idea of each of us doing a bit of homework for this trip. We had discovered Marriage Heat about a year ago and have been overwhelmed with how it has enhanced our intimate times together. Sometimes MH greases the wheels when her mental game just isn’t up to par, or has provided opportunities for us to have open and honest discussions about what we do or don’t want in bed, which gives us each valuable insight into how to truly meet the other’s needs. So my homework was for each of us to find one story or scenario from MH that we would like to mimic on this trip. With the thought of her pouring over MH stories doing her “homework” getting worked up ultimately working to my advantage. With the end of her cycle, weeks of preparation, the “Homework” and now the “Supermoon”, I had unwittingly created a perfect storm of sexual anticipation.
We hurry through the Miami airport grab a bite to eat and rush to make our connecting flight to our little piece of heaven. I let myself lag behind a bit as we make our way through the crowd. She’s wea
This flight is the result of six months planning and thirteen years in the making. We are flying to a small Caribbean island, a sort of hidden gem of a place for a well-deserved break from the day to day and to take the opportunity to celebrate our thirteenth wedding anniversary and make a second honeymoon of it. The anticipation of this trip had been building through the weeks leading up to our trip, in addition to the usual activity planning, I’d completed about 80% of the workouts outlined in the P90X fitness series and Vanessa had ramped up her weekly visits to the gym. She had been coyly purchasing undergarments over the last month, making sure I knew that she’d purchased them but never letting my see the actual merchandise. She endured a Brazilian wax the day before and again she was stalwart in her defense of my prying eye’s in the days and hours leading up to our departure. Leaving me to my imagination and the thought of her smooth and bare beneath a lace trimmed pair of panties is intoxicating and the reason for more than one of the erotically fueled forays charging to the forefront of my subconscious, most of which end with my tongue placed hungrily between her legs. I followed suit and did my fair share of “manskaping”. {Note to all husbands out there: We’re not all that attractive in the nether regions, trimming and shaving from stem to stern is a must and pays back dividends.}
I’m somewhat of a glutton for punishment when it comes to delayed gratification. I find the exhilaration of anticipation almost as thrilling as the reward and Vanessa had been the ultimate pay-off to 23 years of virginity and 3 excruciating years of courtship. The crescendo of which played out over the course of a week at the very island we were heading to today. The pressure had been building especially high in the form of the mixed blessing and curse of her monthly cycle whose end occurred just two days prior and almost always marks the peak of the lunar cycle. This month even the news reported that this week was going to be the host to a “Supermoon”, or one of the biggest and brightest full moons of the year the apex of which was going to occur in two days’ time. Meaning I’d been already been cut-off for the preceding week, but so had she and the moon was just about to hit its peak. Vanessa is a rare breed when it comes to sex, as she takes on a sort of Jekyll and Hyde persona when the moon is full, becoming an insatiable force to be reckoned with that more than oft leads to me pleading my case as a mere mortal man bound by the physical limitation of my humanity. So I know every ounce of my anticipating is matched by her own.
As a final measure of preparation I had come up with the idea of each of us doing a bit of homework for this trip. We had discovered Marriage Heat about a year ago and have been overwhelmed with how it has enhanced our intimate times together. Sometimes MH greases the wheels when her mental game just isn’t up to par, or has provided opportunities for us to have open and honest discussions about what we do or don’t want in bed, which gives us each valuable insight into how to truly meet the other’s needs. So my homework was for each of us to find one story or scenario from MH that we would like to mimic on this trip. With the thought of her pouring over MH stories doing her “homework” getting worked up ultimately working to my advantage. With the end of her cycle, weeks of preparation, the “Homework” and now the “Supermoon”, I had unwittingly created a perfect storm of sexual anticipation.
We hurry through the Miami airport grab a bite to eat and rush to make our connecting flight to our little piece of heaven. I let myself lag behind a bit as we make our way through the crowd. She’s wea
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