The Ex-Wife

There was an ex-wife. She was sex personified, when I first met her.

In fact, she fucked a co-worker and I heard about it right when I was getting interested in her. It upset me but turned me on at the same time. We weren't dating then, and her availability was a plus then, in my naive early 20s.

She was promiscuous, but I wouldn't call her a tramp (even now). She liked to fuck, and liked even better to be liked, by anyone who would give her attention.

Especially male attention. I saw this, and was intrigued, and gave her loving attention, which she responded to very well.

And soon later, I fucked her a lot. Almost every day for a while. During the day, and at night. After work, before work, and being late for work because we were still at my apartment, fucking at 4:55, and work started at 5:00.

She was the first girl that I moved beyond the mere sleeping with and starting to try to please, to caress, to massage, to practice tantric sex. Make orgasm. To explore anal sex with her.

She was game for most of this, and I think loved the attention. Indeed, I was not interested in throwing her away after having used her.

But she wasn't what I consider overly enthusiastic. Or aggressive. She let me initiate pretty much each love-making session. And she wasn't willing to go to the next steps as well. To go beyond the initial physical attraction and heat of being overly and intensely intimate with each other, almost before we were ready. What a rush. Ah, youth. That's the thrill.

I knew that I should move beyond that when I made her my wife.

We fucked in the limo as we drove away from the reception. But it was only a few years before she began responding to other men's attentions. She had self-esteem issues, and thought she didn't know how to really perform in bed. She didn't. She couldn't let herself go.

Eventually she took other lovers, mostly I presume one-night-stands to regain that illicit thrill of being overly intimate when it wasn't appropriate, when things were moving too fast. To be young and out of control, dangerous, and bad. So very bad.

She had red hair, and red pussy hair as well. I loved it. I loved the feel of it, and the feel of it as I slipped my cock into her cunt. Definitely fed my red-pussy-hair fetish, which was already in place before I met her. I thought I was very lucky.

In retrospect, I wish she had bucked her hips into mine more. Felt my thrusts, met me, instead of just letting me do all the work. I would have cum that much more, tried that much harder to keep it going.