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An artist with his brush
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An artist with his brush Last night was low key for us. She spent the weekend battling a slight cold. She had talked with Phil about perhaps meeting, but she wasn’t up to it. After enjoying her<b> bubble bath </font></b>we spent the evening together on the couch. At first I was in total control of the remote, but soon that faded as we watched some talk show with Joan Rivers about Hollywood fashion. She had me paint her toes, nothing too gnarly, just a tame, but deep purple color, matching her finger nails. I am really good with my brush. Smooth, without runs, and always within the lines. “I’ve been talking with Mark,” she says me to. I wasn’t aware of conversations with him. As I was painting she showed me her texts over the last week which was basic but flirtatious in nature. His primary relationship has cooled off quite a bit. If it hadn’t, she would be flirting with him, more less expressing an interest in regaining their sexual relationship together. “He wants to see me Wednesday night,” she said. “Did he text you?” I replied. “No, he called me this afternoon and wanted to know if I wanted to come to his house,” she said. “Did you tell him you were going to see him again?” I asked. “I told him I was interested, but not if he was involved with anyone. You know I don’t see committed men,” she replied. “What did you say?” I asked. “I told him I would like to see him,” she replied. “What about me?” I asked. Obviously I wasn’t part of the invite, but I wondered how I would fit into their plans. “I can call you and you can listen,” she said frankly. This was getting very real, very fast. She hasn’t fucked outside our house in years. I recalled past times when she fucked and I listened. It’s more personal than actually seeing them or watching from another room; in effect, it’s my own ring side seat. The device is usually next to her ear and she’s comments from time to time, but mostly it gives me an intimate access to her moans, whispers, and images she’s expressed but thought they were lost within the air and the event. Over the phone is where I heard the infamous words ‘I’ve never been fucked like this before,’ when she voiced it not knowing I heard her. There I was. I was all finished. Her nails looked wonderful. I’ve gotten very good over the years. I closed the bottle and returned it to the closet. While I was up, I put the phone on the charger.  Shared wife -evergreenstatewife |
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hmmmm and you said I was naughty when i said 2 weeks ago that there would be a lot of ummmmmm ummmmmsss when she met this ex bull for coffee... Chock one up for my psych classes... grin... glad your phone charger was handy...
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