I Caught My Husband Masturbating, And It Led To Some Of The Best Sex That We Have Ever Had

Disclaimer: Few details are spared in this blog post. If you aren’t interested, look away now. This post has been read and approved by Sir prior to uploading.

I was woken up on Bank Holiday Monday by the gentle rocking of our double bed. It wasn’t rough, but the kind of rocking I’d associate with someone who was having night terrors or was cold. Knowing my husband’s history of nightmares I was concerned, but having juzt been woken from a deep sleep, I slowly opened my eyes. That was when I began to realise what I saw.

In one hand was his penis, and in his other was his mobile phone. Sure enough, my husband was taking care of business on his own.

For a while, I just watched. I was frustrated that we only had sex twice per week on average and he was evidently attempting to relieve.. ahem.. pressure on his own (something which I’m normally dubbed “terrible for, owing to my high sex drive), but watching a man masturbate is a huge turn on for me, and certainly something I could store to memory for use later on.

I guess my breathing must have given me away, because he tucked himself away, hopped up and escaped to the bathroom.

When he returned, I was led on my front and listening to music. He tapped me on my shoulder and I put my phone and music down. I wasn’t mad, but I was upset. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I think we both know what I saw this morning,” I snapped.

So I was mad.

Having realised that he’d been busted.. err..trying to bust, he admitted to what he was doing. I explained that I wasn’t angry, disgusted or offended, but I was upset that he felt the need to pleasure himself to porn behind my back when we only had sex twice per week. It wasn’t that he was looking at other women, it was, in a sense, that he was looking at other women without me. As someone who is sexually open and cares deeply about my partner’s pleasure, I was wounded that he didn’t even give me the chance to help him.

I explained that I wanted more sex but that I respected him because he is always tired after work. I admitted my own masturbatory habits which stemmed from feeling like I was too much for him and felt like my own solo sessions were sort of doing him a courtesy service. I explained that it was hypocritical for him to expect me to be faithful while he’s stripped to his underwear on camera for strangers and given his underwear to other women (though he does love to remind me those are past mistakes, they still hurt). I admitted to wanting to explore threesomes, blowjobs while he watches porn and being Dominated by other men. There were probably other things but, for now, I decided to stick to the basics.

Far from the reaction I expected, he said he wanted to explore those things.

What?

He told me that his manager had told him not to cling so much to the past, and I admitted that I wanted to worship at her feet. Finally! Someone who spoke my language!

I could feel my loins stirring at this point. Thoughts of Sir, Ant Middleton and James Dean stirred though my mind. Cold, hard, rough domination. Used, abused, filled and humiliated. Damn it brain, not now. I tried to conceal my arousal, but to no avail.

One thing led to another and I ended up getting a confession from my good Sir As to the content of his morning wood movie with the best NSFW, non-governmentally-approved-method that I know. He tried to get me to confess to which of my ideas had got me so excited and I responded resolutely with “no comment” right up until I felt the warmth of his tongue on my most precious parts. I mean, I wasn’t going to just tell him that the thought of being man-handled by him and some Ant Middleton lookalike got me all hot and bothered, was I? That wouldn’t be me!

Sir made me watch him stroke himself and he claimed me twice. Even in a rather glowing 18 degrees heat, we still found ways to make it work. We laughed and talked afterwards and left no pages unturned. I’ve told him now not to be so worried about waking me for sex and, provided he doesn’t do something foolish like biting my breast or trying to stick his dick in my mouth without waking me first, then I will have very few objections. Sometimes I wake up with a “problem” too, and heck, even if I don’t, passionate sex is always a wonderful way to start my Monday morning. 

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