I was born Simon Owen Drake, IV, and I am the King of my home.
Before I continue telling my story, I feel like I need to give some background. I am an only child of a beautiful woman and a domineering father. My mother was like an angel put here to make the world better. My father (never 'dad') was here to run it. All in all there was little remarkable in my childhood, other than when I was about ten and my father caught me wearing some of mother's clothes. His reaction, after yelling at mother for coddling me, was to spend more time with me, teaching me what it meant to be a man. And I learned. In business, he was ruthless but always stayed within the law. It was almost a game to him. In family matters, he ran the house like a dictator. He loved us the way he could; he provided for us a nice place to live, food to eat, and a top quality education. However, his word was the final word. It made our family run efficiently.
After I got my MBA, I embarked on my own career in business starting small, but with the plan to take me to my fullest potential. Then I met Emily. She was a very independent woman when I met her, but realizing that I needed a wife – like her – for my plans to be properly executed. As a bonus, I fell in love with her fully and deeply. Since my role model was my own father, I assumed control of the relationship, and Emily went along, despite her independent streak. I knew that if I handled her poorly, she would turn against me, but I soon had her in line with my thinking. I can be subtly persuasive when I need to be.
As of my telling this story, we have been married five years. As a matter of fact, we just celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary last month (on January 1). And I would say it has been a terrific five years; I believe she would agree.
To me, there are two secrets of our success: first, we agreed early on that one of us would rule the house to eliminate any arguing over petty things. Now, I am not some evil dictator ruling through fear; I see myself more as a benevolent king, which is a departure from my father's style. My rule is absolute, but I listen to my wife, letting her feel apart of the process. It really works for us. Second, I am amazing in bed. It's not bragging; it really is the truth. My wife is satisfied every time we make love (or have sex or fuck, depending on the mood of the moment). There are times when my ego has gotten the better of me, and I considered making a go of it in adult films, but I knew that it was a tough business in which to make money, so my sensible side kept me working the job which provided stability and happiness to my wife and to me, as well as helped me work to fulfill my goals.
For our first three years of marriage, our sex life was excellent. Despite my absolute rule, I never forced sex on my wife. I would manipulate her into it, sure, and straight out seduction was completely valid as well. But I never forced myself on her.
We started out making love twice a week on average in the first year, to once a week in the second year, to probably twice a month by the third. As a guy, as long as I was getting off with the woman I loved, I was good. When I was in the mood and she wasn't, I would masturbate, and that kept me from taking my skills elsewhere and kept my stamina up for our marathon sexcapades. As I have read is typical of a married couple, my libido usually ran a lot hotter than hers, so by the third year, I masturbated more than I fucked my wife. But that was okay, because in the end we both knew that I was head of the household, and she was my woman. Yes, I know, that makes me sound like a neanderthal, but we were and are both comfortable with my position of being in charge.
But I am getting ahead of myself. This is the story of how over the last two years the spark came back into our bedroom and how I was able to maintain my relationship with my wife, Emily.
So far after three years, we were falling into two patterns. The first pattern was sticking to the "sex in marriage" adage that if you put a penny in a jar every time you have sex during the first year and take a penny out every time you have sex after that, the jar will never be empty. We were on track for that. The second pattern was that the sex was becoming routine. Still very enjoyable for both of us, but predicable to some extent. She had had very limited sexual experience when we met, so I hesitated about pushing her too soon. I had it planned out so that when I wanted to try something new, I had a system about introducing it into the routine. This process got her to accept my going down on her, and how I eventually got her to go down on me. I even successfully employed my plan when I wanted to fuck her in the ass.
When I ran short on ideas, I would watch some porn videos, and when I found things I liked, I brought them into the bedroom. I knew my body well, so when I watched porn videos, I would look out for the signs that what I was watching should be something to try. The first sign was that I felt my cock twitch. Then if after a few moments I found myself rubbing my cock through my pants, it would be something to consider more. If I would unzip my pants and very slowly build up my erection, savoring the moment, I knew it should be something to bring to the marriage bedroom. This was how I got the idea to introduce our more athletic moves, such as we would see how many Kama Sutra positions we could get in without my ever taking my cock out of her cunt.
The speed with which I would introduce something new varied, depending on how I believed her to be accepting of the new position or practice. Yes, I could have ordered her to do something new, but I would rather her think it was her idea. I could be subtle, but I always got my way, eventually. The shortest implementation when she was hesitant at first was an hour. The longest implementation was a few years.
Occasionally, not very often, she would bring up an idea for me to consider. If I didn't like it, we didn't try it, and if I did like, we tried it. I knew that she was about to suggest something when she would start off saying, "Honey" or "Dear", instead of "Simon". She was accepting of my decision, because ultimately I would satisfy her every time. [Note to self: do I follow through on this]
Things brings my story to about a month after our third anniversary – almost two years ago to the day of this telling. On this night, she started by calling me "Honey" and then pointing out that when I eat her pussy, she is usually either on her back and my face is buried in between her legs or she is sitting on the edge of the bed and my face is buried between her legs. Other than the few times she was upside down, this was true. She suggested a new position for when I eat her. Of course, I was listening. She proposed that we try it with me on my back and her sitting on my face. I thought about it and figured, correctly, that this would bring her cunt much tighter on my face, allowing me to enjoy her more; I really love the smell and taste of her pussy.
As a bonus, allowing her this would let her feel like she mattered, and she did and does, in this house. (This is why I consider myself a benevolent king.)
We started out as usual, lying side by side naked, kissing passionately, while our hands explored each other. My fingers were laying the ground work by rubbing her clit, penetrating her labia, and fingering her until she was very wet. While I doing this for her, she would grab my cock gently and stroke me until I was good and hard. But before I ran my hard cock into her wet pussy, I lay on my back. She lay on top of me, grinding her pussy into my cock, letting it know that she was wet and waiting for it. My cock stirred in anticipation. Then she dragged herself forward, rubbing her wet pussy against my body, leaving a small trail of her juice on my abdomen and chest. Soon, her muff was an inch from my face. She knelt with her legs on my arms preventing me from moving easily, which was also a turn on, but knowing that I was strong enough to throw her off when the time came.
I moved my head forward extending my tongue. The tip could just barely reach her labia. I looked up and saw her smiling as she teased me. But she was as anxious as I, and she held out only a few more seconds before sliding forward that last little bit, plunging her wet pussy onto my waiting mouth. When she landed, my tongue penetrated deeper than ever before, and her clit pressed against my nose. Occasionally, I had to tilt my head to catch a breath, but this experience was heaven to me. I tongued her up and down, taking in as much as I could, moving my head expertly to have my nose and sometimes my tongue flitting across her clit. She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and moaned as I performed. After about fifteen minutes of this, she dismounted, not having cum, and lay on her back, indicating that I should go down on her from this position to finish her off. I think she could tell from the expression on my face that I wish I had been able to bring her to climax when she was on me, but I knew that I could bring her off now, so I went down, tongued her until she orgasmed. I then positioned my ready cock between her legs and pushed it deep inside her. After a few minutes of animated fucking, I shot my load deep in her. When I was done, I looked at her, and she had the look of contentment which I was used to seeing. And this began the journey which "emptied the jar".
.... There is more of this story ...