Warning explicit sexual content and language 18+please

She thought she had lost her grip on reality by becoming more spiritual but in actuality her past was the dream, the fog, the shadow life. Who was that child, that girl, that young woman, and now this middle-aged person? Did she even exist. It has been suggested and maybe proven that every cell in our body dies and is replaced completely every 7 years. So, if this is so then we are a completely different person in a week of years. My question is, why are we still running on the same programs and patterns and why aren’t these upgraded as well?
These ponderings and sex as a healing art are connected, I assure you and I will connect and link them in my round about artistic way.
Sex as a healing art
Imogen was a beautiful woman full of love for life and caring for others. She was enthusiastic, impulsive, innocent, trusting and completely irresistible to men, and women too for that matter. Her smile and laugh were infectious and if you remained in her company for even a short time you felt better and lighter.
She wanted to help people feel better, share of herself in a way that mattered. Sex mattered. The religious experience of an orgasm mattered. Maybe this was close to how god felt after one of his creations, an orgasmic explosion. She had often pondered on this, feeling this good and sharing it was not wrong but was godlike.
Her beautiful husband had asked her to help his friend, someone he had grown up with and cared for very much. He had asked her to help him, not by giving him a foot rub (although that was not ruled out), but by sucking on his cock. ‘Let him fuck your face baby, fuck your face hard and let him do anything else he wants to do to you. Do it for me baby, help him release all this stress that he has been carrying around.”
His asking made Imogen’s panties wet.
This would be the first time her husband had asked this of her. They had talked lightheartedly about Imogen being a natural sex therapist, like a nurse in the sex department serving the needs of others. Not for money, but as a healing art. She was artistic, she was a healer, she was sexual, she cared about helping others. It all came together and made perfect sense. Nothing shameful or disgraceful, only loving and sensual.
She could tell he was nervous when he walked into the house with her husband in the lead. He needed more alcohol it seemed to calm him. It wasn’t Imogen herself that was making him anxious, he was really excited about her, it was the fact that his friend, Imogen’s husband, would be watching. “I want to see his toes curl, and I want my toes to curl too”, were her husband’s words to her days before as they discussed the details of this sexual healing for his friend. “Or do you want your privacy with him?” She would never do anything without her husband being present, and he knew this, but was probably just testing her. He liked to keep her on her toes and honest with her feelings.
As her husband stood in the doorway to their bedroom, Imogen took his hand and led him to the bed. Placing both hands on his cheeks she looked into his eyes and softly kissed his lips. “We are alone together and this is beautiful, I am yours to have, there is nothing forbidden”. She unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down releasing a surprisingly long and hard cock. Oh, she was in her element now because cock was her favourite body part, and sucking cock her favourite activity.
He quickly stripped off his clothes caring not that his friend watched from the doorway, as Imogen licked and wet his balls and the length of his cock. Shivers ran down his back and his toes did indeed curl as she ran her tongue up the length of him. He laced his fingers through her short blond hair and directed his cock into her open and available mouth. Oh, he needed her. He needed her willingness, her gentleness, her sexuality. He needed her to heal him, to take some of the stress off his shoulders and make him lighter than air. She sucked with her mouth, she sucked with her throat, she sucked with her mind, she sucked his cock with her whole being. She devoured him. He was lost to himself and just floated in an eternal place until his star exploded and new neuron pathways were created.
Imogen gently kissed his lips then looking into her husband’s loving eyes, patted the place beside her for him to join her there. Now her star was going to explode all over her darling beautiful husband and his toes would curl big time.
The end
Oh my goodness Imogen
You make my toes curl
Lovely tale
Glad to see your head going to its naughty and fun place 💋💦
😘
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Mrv. for your comments and for liking the story. Very Much appreciated
LikeLike
Imogen is my kind of woman, knowing just how to please her man. 🥰
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Gentleman Dave, yes Imogene is special in that regard ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Please write more of her, Summerhill! I need more Imogene. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, why don’t we update our programming? I’ve asked myself this very thing more times than I care to count, and still… I don’t learn, do I? This leads me to conclude that I’m not very smart at all! 😛
LikeLiked by 1 person
If you aren’t considered smart, then I am a rider on the small yellow bus 😁
❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love this ❤️❤️❤️🔥🔥🔥
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Anonymously Hal. Much appreciated. Sending lots of love.
LikeLike
Like!! I blog frequently and I really thank you for your content. The article has truly peaked my interest.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for reading my blog and liking the content. It is very much appreciated. Sending you love ❤️
LikeLike