Marital Changes

'Don't stare at me - not like that.' He whispered.

But I couldn't help myself. I had just come back from work after a hard day dealing with incompetence and bull-shitters, followed with a stressful drive through the city, negotiating with the clown taxi drivers and was just so pleased the day was done, and I had come home to a lovely smelling, warm and clean home with a gorgeous, eager partner waiting to help me unwind.

Mel was perfect. The sculptured contours of his lace and Lycra full-slip emphasised every feminine curve and swell of his lithe frame.

'Let your hair down.' I breathed. 

Mel hesitated, he was still self-conscious about the length of his hair. Having tied it up with a white silk ribbon he was reluctant to show it in all its glory.

'Please.' I asked softly.

He raised his beautifully styled eyebrow quizzically - a reminder that I didn't usually ask. Mel allowed the shiny tresses to fall about his face, to settle sensuously on his bare shoulders.

'Any regrets?' I asked as I took my tie off and unbuttoned my own collared shirt off. 

'About wearing this?' He asked - his eyes settling on my black longline bra.

I chuckled, 'About being my wife?'

Mel shivered as my hands swept over his wide womanly hips and over the girlish curve of his lace-covered buttocks.

'Stop asking me that.' He whispered thickly. One hand resting on my hips and the other on my now bare shoulder, he looked into my eyes and said 'You know I love being your wife. Why would I be dressed like this if I didn't want to please you?'

I cupped his small but perfect breast in my palm - his nipple quivered excitedly through the lace bra-cup. Mel opened his thighs in a sluttish invitation that thrilled me. My hand slid down, and between his smooth thighs. We embrace and I kissed my wife!

***

I suppose it was his shyness on our wedding night. I had been looking forward to a healthy vigorous session with a red-blooded young man. But Mel was terrified. Not of me - but the whole idea of sex. Having no real idea of what to do - to me or for me - and too focussed on 'not doing anything wrong' he couldn't do anything.

I must accept part of the blame - in all my dealings with Mel I have taken the lead. Being older and more experienced this was natural. Mel, being naturally submissive waited for me to decide what to do in most situations. I used to think it funny his mum and dad had named him after Mel Gibson but he couldn't have looked or adopted a more opposite personality if he had tried consciously. I think Melanie Griffith or Melissa Rauch would be closer to the mark. 

Anyway, I had a choice - accept the night as a disaster and try again the next day - or deal with it. I laid the white-faced and trembling youth on his back. Knelt astride him, and told him what to do!

Sobbing his apologies he was pathetically eager to obey. I soon had him cupping, caressing and kissing my breasts. Because of the situation I was able to demand a long period in which he concentrated on my breasts and more importantly I had time to show him exactly how he should treat them to bring me the most pleasure.

By this time Mel was more relaxed and I was able to get a 'stiffy' going. Not wanting to waste this I didn't get off him, instead I eased myself onto his perfectly respectable erection. I rather enjoyed watching his face - his eyes went wide and his mouth opened in undisguised delight. 

Reminding him to continue working on my breasts and nipples I moved my lower body to get the most out of the situation. The potential disaster had been turned into a triumph - but I had unwittingly set the tone for all our future sexual encounters.