9 comments/ 35448 views/ 2 favorites A Little "O" By: HarleyFatboy1 The first time that I experienced an orgasm with my husband, it started off as a normal date and should have resulted in a normal good night, however this time it was enjoyably different. We had gone to a baseball game for our date. I wore my typical mini skirt with a form fitting t-shirt, sneakers and light blue nylon bikini panties. It was a beautiful summer evening and we sat in the bleachers simply because it was the least expensive. During the course of the game we consumed a few more beers than we normally would particularly since I was only 19 at the time. The additional alcohol in my system resulted in me being a little more uninhibited than I normally would have been in a public setting. I was having such a good time that I wasn't particularly careful about how my legs were positioned during the final innings. I could tell by the looks from the people sitting below me that my light blue panties were being seen quite regularly. At least they were part of our team's colors. I would constantly point my knees towards my husband on the bench style seats and move my legs apart as I talked and joked with him, allowing him to get regular looks up my skirt as well. I was quite naïve about how this sort of behavior can affect a young man. I was feeling so care free that when out team won, I stood up on the bench and did a happy dance giving everyone in the vicinity a nice view of my legs and those sitting lower down easily saw up my skirt. It just didn't matter to me. I was having so much fun. We walked back to the car holding hands and on the way home I sat as close as the seats would allow with my hand on my husband's leg. My husband had an old Ford at the time with bench seats, so we could get pretty close. When we pulled up outside my house, the lights inside were out, so I felt safe sitting in the car for a while. We started to kiss and hug each other, which soon turned to some roaming hands on each other's clothing. As we pressed our bodies together, my husband reached around my back and pulled my mini above my panties. Normally at this stage in our dating, I would have reacted negatively to his forwardness. I loved flashing my panties at him, but had never had him take the initiative to expose them. The combination of the alcohol and my rising passion (or shall we call it horniness), resulted in my acceptance of his initiative. I pressed my light blue nylon panties into his summer weight khaki's and immediately felt his erection through his pants. I directed my body so my groin was pressing directly on it. Feeling this pliable but firm ridge pressed against my opening lips with just a thin layer of nylon between was pure ecstasy for me. We quickly got into a rhythm of pushing and rubbing ourselves on each other. I didn't have much experience with a male's excitability, but could tell by my husband's quick breaths that something was going on. I could feel his erection pulsing through my nylon panties as I found myself approaching the edge. It seems that the alcohol had made me more sensitive as opposed to less. I had never experienced anything near to an orgasm with another person and found myself embarrassed that I was getting so excited. It seems that my embarrassment was only above my shoulders as those parts of me below my waist continued to press against my husband and grind against his delectable cloth covered railing. As we continued kissing more and more passionately and rubbing ourselves in an attempt to ignite our sexual fires, my husband again moved his hands down my back and grabbed my bottom with both hands squeezing...hard. It seems that this was the last bit of kindling required to light our blaze as we both tensed and simultaneously convulsed in orgasmic pleasure. I buried my face into his shoulder to muffle my moans so they sounded like little squeaks as the air escaped from my closed lips. I did not want to have him know that I was having an orgasm. I guess I hadn't completely broken away from my strict religious upbringing. Showing my panties off was an act of rebellion, whereas having an orgasm while grinding against a male's erection was inappropriate and disgraceful. God, it felt so good. My husband let out a loud exhale along with a groan of pure sexual release as his body shook. Feeling him convulse against my panties was beyond anything that I could imagine at the time. I pressed myself as tightly against him as I could and continued to let out my little squeaks of forbidden enjoyment. When it was over and I slid back to my side of the car, I noticed the huge wet spot on my husband's pants. My mind literally went, "Oh my God. He wet himself" I told you that I had very little experience. I offered to let him come inside so he could clean up and as we walked to the door of my house I noticed that the lights were back on. It seems that two of my sisters had come home while we were lighting fires and then dousing them in the car. My husband untucked his shirt so the tails covered his expanding wet spot and walked quickly into the bathroom. When he came out my sisters were sitting with me and talking. I was quite impressed on how well he did acting as if nothing had happened. Soon after he left to go home and I headed up to bed. Neither one of us had talked about what happened and never mentioned it for quite a while after. It seemed that we were both embarrassed to admit our sexual excitement as well as our inability to control it. I was awake for a long time that night replaying what had happened and feeling the contradictory emotions of shame and exhilaration. I really wanted to know what it looked like when he got excited and more importantly when he came, but my mind continuously scolded me for having such lowly desires. I now had another and more challenging step to take in my sexual awakening. I needed to allow myself to be comfortable with who I was and the feelings that I was having. A Little Of This Today is, no--would have been, my tenth wedding anniversary. At the moment, the divorce is pending; it won't be finalized until January. I guess I am on hold, or maybe in limbo? I don't know how I should be feeling, I started tearing up when I asked my soon-to-be-ex if he realized what today was. It took him a second, but he remembered. He leaned down, kissed my forehead, and half hugged me. I wanted to scream! I wanted to break something! For ten years I have celebrated special occasions with this man. Today is a regular day for the first time in ten years. I hate this, I don't know how long it will take me to get used to the current situation. I knew I was not going to deal with today well. I didn't want to be in the house alone all evening. The other option was to call a friend and explain the sordid story, exposing a weakness. Like hell if I was going to do that. As it turned out, a friend called me, asking if I wanted some company for a few hours. I jumped all over having company. It solved my problem, and I didn't have to get emotional about it. My friend showed up around 6:30 p.m. I had already fed the kids and had them settled down upstairs with a movie rental before bed. I invited him in, and we wandered into the living room, getting comfortable on the couches. He started telling me about his day, injecting comments to make me laugh. After his long diatribe of his day, he sighed, and then blurted out that he could really use some Jack Daniels and a blow job. I looked up quickly, and burst out laughing. He laughed with me. An idea formed in my head. I had some Jack Daniels in the freezer. I sauntered into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle from the freezer, and walked back into the living room with a shit-eating grin on my face. A grin formed on his face as well. I sat back down on the couch opposite him, put the bottle on the coffee table, grabbed the television remote, and started to flip channels, ignoring him and the bottle. An hour and a half later, my kids were all in bed, sleeping quietly. I came downstairs after checking on them and found the Jack Daniels bottle open, with the lid lying on the table next to it. I sat back down, checking out the television, and asked him to pass me the bottle. After taking it from him, I took a long swallow from it, and passed it back to him. He did the same in turn. I stood, and walked across the room, sitting down on the same couch as him. I put my hand out, and waited till he passed the bottle back. We exchanged the bottle back and forth a few more times, and I was starting to feel a buzz from the alcohol. I leaned my head on his shoulder and sighed. He asked what was bothering, and I drunkenly told him everything. I told him what day it was, how I was feeling, the works. He reached an arm around me and hugged me close to him. The partial hug felt much more secure and reassuring than that from my soon-to-be-ex earlier in the day. He leaned over and kissed my forehead and leaned back, pulling me with him. We settled into the couch and went back to watching television. I felt my eyes growing heavy, and I let my body relax. Gradually I fell into a peaceful sleep. Feeling lips moving across my face woke me up. I blinked, waking up fully, trying to figure out what was going on. I was lying down on the couch, a blanket thrown over me, and he was crouched down near my face. I stared at him, unsure what to do or say. He held out a hand, and helped me to sit up, making room for him on the couch next to me. The Jack Daniels bottle was still on the coffee table in front of us, and I reached for it, taking a hearty swig. Sitting on the couch, the bottle on my lap, I looked at him. I had always been close to him; we had conversations that I hadn't had with anyone before, and joked with each other relentlessly. A grin formed on my face as I thought about what I wanted to do to him. Reaching my hand over, I grasped the top button his jeans. The snapping noise echoed in the quiet house. Continuing down, I unzipped his zipper and reached in, grasped for him, pulled him out. He shimmied out of his jeans, and kick them away. He reached up for his boxer briefs and pulled them off quickly. I started stroking his cock, letting it slip through my fingers, not applying any pressure. I moved onto the floor, spreading his legs, and realized I still held the Jack Daniels bottle. Glancing up at him, smiling broadly, I asked him to move down some. When he was situated to my liking, I raised the bottle and poured a generous amount over his hardening cock. His loud intake of air let me know I had his undivided attention. Leaning over, I began to lap up the Jack Daniels, making sure to lick every drop from wherever it had dripped to. Luckily, I didn't have to stray to far from his cock, I hadn't poured that much on him. I wrapped my fingers around the base of his cock and used my mouth to massage his cock from the tip down to my fingers. Every third or fourth plunge his cock took into my mouth I took a second to lick and kiss the surrounding area. I released my fingers and slid my hands up his shirt, feeling his abs and chest. I maintained the movements with my mouth while I stroked his chest, pushing his shirt up higher and higher. Since I didn't have much experience at giving blow jobs, I listened to the sounds coming from him to pace my movements. When I heard his breath quicken, I knew instinctively that he was getting close to his release. I felt his balls contract and pushed against him, moving to stand. He looked up at me, a look of confusion and lust on his face. I looked back down at him for a few moments, and finally said, "What your feeling right now is how I spend every waking moment. It's difficult to put that into words, isn't it? I should probably go check on my kids." Turning on my heel, I walked up the stairs. I heard him cussing to him self, then the rustle of his jeans. "I am going to pay you back for that, you can bet on it!" he yelled up the stairs to me. A few seconds later, the front door slammed. I went into each of the kids' rooms and pulled the blankets up around them. I walked into my bedroom, sunk onto the edge of my bed, and a slow smile grew on my face. Leaning over, I pulled open my nightstand drawer, reached in, and grabbed my favorite vibrator. Pulling it out, I started laughing to myself. I slowly stripped my clothes off, threw a t-shirt on, and slid under the covers. Turning the vibrator on, I sunk further into my bed, taking care of my own pleasure, and slipped into a peaceful slumber.