The Sex I Really Want

Couples therapy, yay! Often I thought that the daunting task of going to therapy made things worse in our marriage. Well, until that one time when the therapist asked me that golden question.

"What kind of sex do you really want?" he asked, sitting in his chair, reading glasses low on his nose so he could peer over them when he was looking at us.

"What do I really want?" I repeated the question, letting my mind wander. What do I really want when it comes to my sex life? Reality is, I don't want to be one of those housewives that grade their sex life by how many times a week that they do it. How did that happen? Before marriage it was how many different ways and places could you do it? Now if you do it twice a week you are a rock star and let's not even pretend that the positions are really any different if it's not in your bed, it's probably not at all, I thought to myself.

"Hmmm... I want to feel sexy," I started. Even that seemed lame. Looking over at our therapist and ignoring my husband.

"You really want to know what I want our sex life to be like?" I asked, my eyebrows raised in a peculiar manner. Then I unleashed something I had been keeping to myself for much too long.

"I want to be on the edge of dangerous, I want to be thrilled. To feel kinky and sexually charged, desired," I started, pausing only to gauge the response that I would get. The room remained silent so I continued.

"I can see myself wearing a black leather bra with silver studs matching the leather crotchless panties that would be slightly hidden by the garter belt that is holding up my fishnet stockings. I like the idea of wearing a choker, leather as well. But, what I really like is the idea of being taken. Being so desired that the primal desire for sex overtakes us. That it doesn't matter where we are or what other things need our attention because we are focused on our desires. Sex would be the priority in that moment." I sat with a dazed smile on my face, forgetting where I was at.

"Well, that is our time. Pick up next week?" the therapist asked.

"Sure, yeah," we agreed as we left the office in awkward silence.

The drive home was quiet, we didn't speak a word. Pulling into the driveway, we both exited the car.

"You want spontaneous, kinky sex? Is that it?" he asked, as he walked straight towards me, cutting me off just as I was entering the garage.

Not sure how to read him, I didn't know if he was angry or not. I froze, waiting to see what he was going to do.

In just a few steps he was standing in front of me, grabbing me by my wrists. Crushing me to him, he looked into my eyes. I recognized the fire that was burning in them. I felt his rock hard cock on my thigh. A sly grin flitted across my lips, my body stiffening against his as I attempted to hold my ground in defiance. I immediately felt the old familiar stirring in my loins. Grabbing a bungee cord off of the bench, he began tying my hands tightly together. Before I could protest, he reached up my skirt and pulled at my lace panties. I could feel them tear away. Casting them to the floor he continued with his mission, his fingers expertly finding my wet, soft skin. Roughly he began massaging and manipulating my clit, slipping his fingers inside me as he took his other hand and pulled my shirt open, pushing down my bra until one of my breasts spilled out. My white silk blouse becoming smudged with oils from the workspace. Grabbing the back of my neck, he pulled me to him, kissing me hard as he rubbed and manipulated me. My legs shook as my excitement mounted. The garage still open, we were displayed for anyone to see. This only excited me more.

I felt his thumb press firmly between my butt cheeks, testing my tolerance as he protruded even farther into my ass, sending waves of pleasure at this heightened state. I couldn't hold it.

"I'm gonna..." I moaned.

"No, you are not!" he said, now dictating.

Removing his hand from underneath my skirt, I stood in a daze, wanting, wanting him so badly.

Grabbing me and guiding me back out onto the driveway, my hands still tied, he bent me over the hood of our car. The sound of an approaching car didn't stop him. He wanted this too.

Pushing my skirt up around my waist, he stood behind me, admiring me. Suddenly, I felt his hand smack my ass, while the other went right back to manipulating me. Playing with every orifice, feeling my excitement mount in his hands, he pulled back again. Deliberately making me want his attention even more. Letting me relax just long enough, he began again this time playing in the game as well. While the occasional car passed, he found his way inside me. His cock filling every crevice of me, sliding, stroking while his thumb found its spot. I exploded, gasping for air as orgasms ripped through my body. I couldn't stop cumming. He kept pumping, rocking, when suddenly I felt him shake as he gave up his load.

"Oh, my," I said, panting.

"Have I told you that I am enjoying therapy?" he teased. "That was amazing. I'm glad you said something today. I was afraid to because I didn't want to offend you." Hugging me tightly, he kissed my lips.

Walking through the garage to the door that led into the kitchen, I stopped him. "Untie these," I said, lifting my hands to him.

"Well, now. That's gonna cost you," he teased.

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