A Little Christmas Guilt - Sex Stories

A Little Christmas Guilt

... ending. New friends,” she toasted, and we clinked our glasses together, both of us seemingly oblivious to our manner of dress. Just as at dinner our conversation flowed easily, but now with more of a personal focus on our individual likes and dislikes and what made each other tick. At one point she surprised me by asking, with a wide smile and a kind of teasing tone to her voice, “I’d like to know how old you were when you lost your virginity.” “Well, okay... Uh, I was a bit slow in getting going I guess. Twenty, to answer your question, and oddly enough it was to a friend of my mother. She turned up one day when I was alone at home, pretending that my mother was expecting her. It was a ruse of course, as all she wanted to do was deflower me, and this was her opportunity. I have to admit she did a really good job of it too. I guess I was lucky to start off that way. What about you?” “A little younger. Nineteen, and to a friend of my older brother. Unfortunately,” and she laughed a bit before continuing, “it was in the back seat of a car, and he didn’t do a very good job of it. I knew though that there was a lot more to having sex than what he provided, and I was determined that I wasn’t going to let my learning about it plateau-out with that lousy experience.” “Did you move on quickly?” “Yes, I guess you could say I did. I stupidly married a guy only a year later, because I thought I was in love. The marriage was over in two years. It had been a huge mistake but at least I ...

... expanded my sexual horizons because of it. I met my new husband two years later and we were married a year afterwards. It’s been a wonderful relationship.” She paused for a moment, then asked me, in a tone no longer casual, “Tell me, if you don’t mind me asking, after fifteen years how is your sex life? I worry that after that amount of time it might just become routine and boring.” “Is yours showing signs of that?” I asked. Her glass was now empty so I refilled it and topped up mine. It appeared to me that she was starting to become a little drunk for the second time that evening, but she was obviously enjoying talking with me and turning the conversation towards sex. And it was mutual. I was enjoying it and, likely it had something to do with the wine as well, I was becoming a little aroused by it. “Perhaps a little,” she said. “That’s what scares me a bit. So what about yours? How do you keep it alive, if you do?” “We experienced the same concerns about it diminishing at about the same period in our marriage as you have with yours, and we decided that we weren’t going to let what we had just slip away. We became inventive, even did some role playing, planned weekend getaways to romantic locations. That sort of thing. We still do it and it’s working for us.” “What do you mean by becoming inventive?” “Well she has a drawer full of toys and movies, and scarves and exotic lingerie, all of which we use on a regular basis.” “Scarves?” “Yes. We use them for restraint. We’ve both ...