Maybe it was because it was near my birthday. Maybe it was the time in my life. Maybe it was just time. Whatever it was, I found myself fantasizing almost daily and sometimes even more about things sexual. Raised as a “good girl,” I was the kind of person who would never imagine anyone, especially me, having thoughts such as these. I was more than a little confused and concerned. Was I becoming someone I hadn’t met before? Was I losing my mind or, if not, perhaps my morals? Was I in some kind of long-delayed rebellion? Or was I becoming someone I was honestly supposed to be? Whatever it was, these thoughts were, I had to admit, delicious and energizing, like anticipating my favorite dessert at that Italian restaurant I love where everything on the menu is fun in my mouth. These thoughts were like that, especially the part about fun in my mouth. Not at all sure what any of this meant, I decided to see if I could work up the courage to tell my husband of ten years about this and hope he wouldn’t be too shocked. I knew if I could be honest, he would probably be supportive and maybe even turned on. Having met relatively Kadıköy Escort late in life, me in my forties and he in his fifties after the ends of each of our first marriages, sex was still warm and satisfying. As I thought about this, I realized the word was “warm” not “hot.” “Warm” didn’t fit these thoughts. No, that place at the meeting of my thighs told me something more exotic was happening there. I was almost afraid to let myself know just how hot I became. Almost. I decided that talking about this with Nic would open the door a little further. That, to my surprise, was just what I wanted. Who knows? With a little luck, this might deepen the connection between us. Four days later, after two glasses of wine at dinner that I drank too quickly, I said, “I’ve been having some unusual thoughts lately.” “What do you mean?” Relying on my liquid courage, I said more boldly than I realized I would, “I’ve been thinking a lot about sex.” “Really? Tell me more.” He sounded like he wanted to be supportive, but I couldn’t help thinking, “How typical a response? What male who still had a Kadıköy Escort Bayan pulse wouldn’t say something like that?” I put that aside and, with only a slight pause, I found words tumbling out of my mouth that I never believed could have. “I’ve been thinking about fucking other men. And maybe including a woman. Or two.” I rushed in to explain not understanding any of this or where these thoughts came from. I could say with all honesty that making love with him was still the best sex of my life and I wasn’t unsatisfied or complaining. Even so, I couldn’t deny my growing curiosity. Before he could stop me and before I chickened out, I began telling him I sometimes fantasized about someone fucking me right after he did. As I spoke, heat began rising between my legs. I had never had a threesome and told him the idea of sucking someone’s cock or someone putting a cunt in front of me while he was fucking me was becoming more and more of a nagging thought. I told him about my most persistent fantasy about having sex in a movie theater with him that led to all kinds of things Escort Kadıköy with other men there. I tried to be matter-of-fact about this, but the thoughts of being fingered, exposed, felt up, and fucked caused my face to redden from equal parts of fear, embarrassment, and lust. He was smart enough to keep his mouth shut while I described some of the details. He seemed especially attentive when I talked about my top being opened and my nipples being sucked. I told him about how loose my skirt would be. I closed my eyes when I told him about how easily it would rise so my pussy would be exposed. When I told him the part about someone kneeling in front of me to lick my pussy, I couldn’t help but notice his right hand had dropped under the table. The thought of him being turned on flipped a switch in me. I could imagine how he stroked and tugged at his cock through his jeans. My mouth went dry at the thought. “Are you getting turned on by me telling you this? You’re not mad at me?” “How could I be? I appreciate the honesty and, by the way, you look more turned on than I’ve seen you in years.” I trusted him about both of those things. After moving my hand into my own lap, I said, “How about moving this deep philosophical conversation up to the center of our bed and I’ll tell you even more? Maybe I’ll tell you some lies and we’ll see if we can get Pinocchio’s nose to grow.” He playfully tapped my ass all the way upstairs.