Adult Forum

The sexual relationship in our marriage could be described as starting out at hot and bothered with a gradual transition over the first 18 years to routine, then transforming over the last 20 years to amazing; it is getting better year after year.
When I was 20 (in the early 70’s) when my wife and I first came together as a couple, my view of our sex life would‘ve been characterized in the following statement: oh my god, a steady vagina for my own personal use . . . whoopee! I was impetuous, impatient, oversexed and selfish.

It was amazing to have an intimate connection to someone that I cared about, I was overwhelmed with joy and my penis was perpetually erect. My experience of seeing her naked the first time made my cock get so hard I was afraid it would split its skin. We were all over each other in reckless abandon at any opportunity. She was relatively inexperienced, I was the first guy she felt comfortable enough with to really experiment with. She was fascinated by my cock and how it performed; she also was into the power that she had to make it perform its tricks! Many of our dates would end with her happily asking me if she could suck my cock and cum in her mouth, I was in heaven!!!!. She was fascinated by it; she would give me hand jobs just so she could watch the cum spurt out of me, she was amazed by it. She would straddle my stiff cock, nestle it in her vagina and rock on it causing her vagina to moisten and lubricate as she rubbed it against her clit until we both came. It was amazing.

For me, she was the first (and only) girl that I ever went down on. I discovered my passion for cunnilingus in her dorm room just before Christmas in 1971. With my face buried between her thighs I tongued her vagina for all I was worth causing her to experience one of the deepest and most satisfying orgasms of her young life. When I discovered her vagina it was as if someone had just given me the best Christmas present ever. For her, that first time I wrapped my lips around her clit and sucked on it, I thought her head was going to explode. When she came that first time she literally screamed as the orgasm hit her.

We did almost anything imaginable short of having sex and we did it with relish. Finally after six months we ran out of interesting new things to do and we decided to have sex. So on a beautiful spring day in a remote part of a state park, I laid out a blanket in the woods and we fucked; I took her virginity. I would characterize that first time as painful and raw for her and in truth the first half dozen times continued to be painful for her. She was very tight and her tightness was compounded by her nervousness; I was less than stellar at getting her to relax. However, in due time we were able to get her to loosen up a bit and it did get better.

After the first month we got very adept at what I would now call fucking. She was still tight and nervous. I was not very well versed in this whole sex thing for me yet alone for her. I had no idea what to do to get her to relax. I tried to be gentle and sensual. But in the end fucking turned out to be neither romantic nor erotic. But we loved each other and sex felt good, it was fucking. She seldom orgasmed from fucking, I usually would finish her with my hand or my mouth.
But she continued to be fascinated with my equipment and never fatigued of getting me to cum. I would cum in her hand, on her chest, in her mouth on my own belly. I would cum on a moments notice and she loved getting me off
As we continued this wonderful process of discovering each other bodies we kept on talking. Indeed, one of the wonderful things about our relationship was it was based on communication. Indeed that was what brought us together and what has kept us together for 38 years.

Eighteen months after we met, we were married. The honeymoon was stellar for the time that we spent together, we had a great fun and we laughed and agreed that getting married was a wonderful thing to do. We continued fucking; it was nice but it was not anything to write poetry about. In retrospect we fucked because it felt good, and that was it.
So our relationship grew from that summer day in August of 1973 when we were married. Our relationship and the events of our life together were punctuated by fucking. The fucking started out with a fury in the early years but as time went by the lust waned.

We consumed gallons of coffee and spent thousands of hours in our first few years together getting to know each other and becoming best friends. Ultimately our friendship would serve us well. She is now my best friend and has always been. After a few years we decided to have kids, so we stopped using birth control when we fucked and we waited for things to happen. But they didn’t. The lack of success getting to mommy and daddy-ness pushed our sex life to a new and different dimension. Carefree fucking now became purposeful and very clinical sexual intercourse. Unfortunately, after the first six months we did not get pregnant.

The state of our sex life now made a transition to the following deadening pattern which was repeated almost daily. Take temperature. Kiss, kiss, suck, suck (to get me hard) push penis in vagina, thrust, thrust, squirt, squirt. That was about the level of passion involved. Eventually biology worked and we were successful; daughter one came along in 1978. She grew and our efforts at family expansion followed the same regimen that ended in squirt - squirt. Biology continued to work and our family continued to grow over the next 16 years. With each new child, the passionless rut of sexual intercourse was further confounded by the schedules of school events, after school activities, sick kids, sleepovers, dying parents and relatives, field trips, vacations with three kids and eventually high school graduations. At our 20th anniversary our sex life had achieved a new level at mediocrity. We would go weeks without any sex whatsoever and nether one of us seemed to care. Oral sex was occasional, hand jobs were never and sexual intercourse became a duty not a passionate pursuit.

But then in 1989, things turned around and an amazing journey began after our 3rd child was born. We made the decision to stop the population explosion in our little family. The passport was given to me by a surgeon in 1989, it was a certificate that said that I was functionally sterile; the vasectomy was a success. I came home and handed the letter to my wife and smiled big time. For the previous 20 years our sex life had been a seesaw of either trying to get pregnant or trying not to get pregnant, there was always a doubt or worry after we finished, we never relaxed. Now that was all behind us. I looked forward to our life of carefree sex.

But the sex didn’t get any better, if anything it got more blasé. I couldn’t figure it out. We were free from unwanted pregnancy. The girls were very responsible, good kids; they were 13 and 7 and they were very competent at watching their baby brother who was almost 3. We had no more babies for distraction. We obviously had no pressure to get pregnant, so why was the sex so bleh? What was it?

The answer as that the initial carnival sex of newlyweds that was driven by lust had been replaced by clinical sex. When the clinical sex disappeared, the carnival had been over for quite a while. When the carnival ended it moved on. Now here we were years later standing in an empty field. There was no purpose to sex anymore.

Then in 1993, while I was in San Francisco for training I picked up a copy of Psychology Today. In the back of the magazine there was an ad for a sexuality education center (in San Francisco) that offered several different courses, it was divine providence, there I was in San Francisco. I was intrigued. I called and inquired. There were only 2 courses available that weekend. One was titled Male Masturbation, the other was Female Sexuality. It was an easy choice. I already knew how to masturbate so it was obvious what my course would be. So I signed up for Female Sexuality.

The first week in my work seminar dragged on and on. It took forever to make it to the weekend. Finally it was Saturday morning. I arrived early at the building where the Center was and went up to the appropriate floor in the elevator. I was very nervous. When the door opened it revealed a lobby that looked like a lawyer’s office. I went to the receptionist and registered for the Female Sexuality course. I then waited in the lobby area with ten or twelve others …all of them women; some were younger than me and some were older. Eventually they called us into a class room with the chairs in a circle and asked us to take a seat. Indeed I was the only guy in the class of 12 people.

I was really relieved that the class was women. I knew that I would be less self conscious talking about my sex life and my wife in front of women. I was relieved.The course was amazing. During the two days we spent an equal amount of time getting to know the intricacies of what was between a woman’s legs and what was between her ears. The women in the class were incredibly nice to me and very patient. I became the surrogate for their questions to their boyfriends, husbands the opinions of their husbands and boyfriends. Conversely they didn’t belittle me for asking questions about female equipment, I learned as much from them as I did from the instructor.

I walked out of that course that Sunday afternoon with a whole new awareness. I realized for the first time that weekend that there was a difference between making love and fucking. For the previous 20 years I had been fucking. I learned that making love was about building a pathway for trust and sensuality. I learned how to help her relax and clear her head of distractions and self doubt and make room for erotic interaction with me. I learned how to focus my sexuality as a force interacting with her own sexuality. I became aware of my responsibility as her male lover to make her feel comfortable enough with me to learn to relax and surrender to her own emotions and sensations. I learned the importance of sexual communication. Last but not least for me, I learned to be aware of how her sex organs worked, what they looked like in various states of arousal, and what she felt as her arousal grew and developed in response to things that I did to her. I learned how to discover her hot spots and to read her body language. Most importantly, I learned about foreplay as something that starts way before the lights dimmed and her clothes came off.

Later that week when I flew home, I sat in the plane and thought to myself that I had been sexually transformed.
When I arrived home that night after having been gone for two weeks, she assumed that we would fuck that first night I was home. But we did not fuck. With my new awareness, we made love.

That first night home from San Francisco was the beginning of a journey that is now 20 years old and continues to amaze me to this day. That was the first night we made love. We made deep, passionate, erotic, eye opened love. I exercised everything I had learned about how to help her arousal to grow and blossom. That night, I helped her to embrace the sensual feelings deep inside her vagina, I helped her hold them and feed them, helping them to shift location, form, sensation and intensity. As her arousal grew and transformed inside of her that night, her eyes widened in amazement. She was shocked as the searing sensation of her arousal spread across her body crackling across her skin like electricity. It gripped her genitalia, her breasts, her anus and her fingers and toes in an ecstatic vice grip. In a soft gentle voice I whispered in her ear, coaching her to wait and not to surrender to orgasm. The sexual tension inside her wound up like a steel spring. I held her and helped her to hold the burning ecstasy in her mind and deep in her vagina and let them smolder together until they consumed her. And she didn’t cum as she looked into my eyes in desperation as I talked gently and softly to her. My penis was hot and throbbing and was rooted in the depths of her vagina pressing against her womb.

Her reward was that the sensations intensified and drilled deeper into her as she caressed my penis and as I embraced her lovingly. She gripped me and groaned as the orgasm caught fire and burned into her shuddering and gaping vagina. Finally when she could take no more I held her tightly as she slipped over the edge of the orgasmic abyss; as she went into ecstatic free fall her body quivered and shuddered and jerked as the contractions drilled into her vagina and flooded her brain with waves of mind numbing sensation. Her vagina clamped onto my steely cock and held it as a drowning man clings to a life raft at sea. My penis was her only sense of reality as the orgasmic tide that was filling her head cleared her brain of rational thought. The orgasm took control of her body; it was twisting it and shaking it in ecstatic spasms.

When it was over, she laid in the bed in a sweat and burst into tears; I kissed her forehead and held her and I thought to myself that our days of fucking were over.

Over the next ten years we both read books on male and female sexual response. I really got into this sensual discovery effort. I began to read about Zen meditation and in 1995 took an intensive week long course in Zen meditation. That was followed by a weekend retreat in Kundalini Yoga in 1997. From these Far East practices I learned how to have dry multiple male orgasms. I learned how to extend an orgasm to as long as 15 minutes with rests of five to ten minutes building to another 15 minute dry orgasm and continue the sequence for sets of 5 or six orgasms with no ejaculations over 90 minutes.

A by product of these mmo exercises has been an exponential improvement in my ability to make love to my wife. My erections are stronger. I have greater staying power, my orgasms are more intense and when I cum I cum in torrents. I have also become more effective at helping her to relax and appreciate the deep and satisying sensations I can give her. At 58 I am infinitely more erotic and sensual than I was 20 years ago. My ability to sustain an erection during an extended love making session is noteworthy, and I have the ability to ejaculate at will. This means that we have been able to extend love making sessions for up to two hours. But the sessions are not fucking, they are a myriad array of techniques and movements of my penis in her vagina coupled with a rich variety of sensuous caresses and kisses, body movements and positions. Together they are a rich and varied erotic palette that evokes intense emotions and sensations.

Our sex life now is a carefully choreographed dance that allows for full expression of the deep feelings we have for each other. We now enjoy complex interactions such as the deeply satifying feeling of her vagina caressing my penis while our eyes are locked together urging each other to higher and higher levels of arousal, communicated only by the intensity and the subtley of our gaze.

We continue to grow and evolve in the discovery of each others sexuality. I now celebrate her sexuality and revel in erotic discovery with her. I have become comfortable in my role of facilitator of this dance of passion; she has learned to trust her own sensations and surrender to them. All of this has opened the doors to divinely intense orgasms and a very deep relationship that surpasses anything that I ever thought was possible.

We no longer fuck. We truly are making love and building love in the process.