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A Story for Married with Children Only

Sex life before marriage can be hot and heavy – stolen sucks and fucks in back seats and shadows away from relatives and roommates. Sex as newlyweds can be incendiary, living together in your own place with nothing to hold back the tide of the crazy. Sex with small children can be … uff … impossible.

What to do??? You get sneaky. You get furtive. You get blue balls. You get sticky panties. You fall asleep exhausted – at different times. You tiptoe away from the kids’ rooms, hoping they will stay asleep for a few minutes. You orgasm with his hand over your mouth – with your face in a pillow. You start without her, then come in her face as she runs into the room and drops to her knees. But sometimes you get a babysitter. A night of disconnection and relaxation. Except for the phone call home to check that everything is ok. Dinner passes quietly – too exhausted to remember what it was like to have date night conversation. But the balls are still blue. The panties are still sticky.

Dinner’s over. The bill is paid. You walk out together leaning on each other – not romantically, but leaning on each other for mutual support. A kiss at the car and a long hug. Pulling out and heading home.

It doesn’t seem right.

Such was one memorable date night long ago. We headed for home, but without speaking it was in the air that we both really wanted to finish the evening “right”, reclaiming some of that passion that gets drowned out by the everyday. So I drove us to a place that I knew had some dark corners, where I had previously imagined taking her bent over the hood of our car … like the good old days. We arrived there … a little used parking lot with a side road turning around a far corner. I pulled in and headed down that alley, just far enough to be obscured.

I stopped the car and doused the lights … got out and rounded to her side … opened her door. She turned and stepped out into the darkness, offering no resistance as I pulled off her dress, leaving her completely naked in the cold moonlight except for her tall heels. Taking my arm I walked her to the front of the car … let her lean against the cold metal for awhile as I ran my hands over her body, scouring her mouth with my tongue.

Then spinning her around, I bent her over the hood of the car. Did I fuck her ass or fuck her pussy??? I don’t remember; 50-50. Was her shuddering more about being pushed breasts down onto cold metal, hands behind her back, or actual orgasm? Either way, hard, fast pounding led to the inevitable … being filled with semen and after a moment frozen in time, being pressed into the hood by my relaxing weight. It always impressed me how her hot emotions could offset cold temperatures at times like this when I would take her naked in any kind of weather. But once she cums, the cold starts to win. So we soon gathered ourselves together, and after some warm hugs returned her to her place in the car and I began to back us out of our reclusive love spot.

Then the married life began to set back in. We had a lot of “humidity” around us leftover from our exertion. The men will understand – the way you get rid of humidity with the car defogger is to have the AC engaged, because that condenses moisture. The women will understand, AC cools, but the heater heats. So here we were – I was trying to back out in darkness with the windows fogging, trying to clear them by having the defogger going with the AC. My dear lady was quite cold and wanting the heat on high, so though we both agreed on the defogger, we were going back and forth flipping it from AC to heat!.

Consequently, I was not having my attention 100% on my angle of motion and nicked a curb by just a little bit – the rear corner of the car lifting up just a bit, then dropping back down. No big deal.

Except that we had apparently attracted a bit of attention – there was a police car sitting right there.

I was not greatly concerned, since I was sure we had not been observed “in the act”, but I urged my wife to be sure that she was fully dressed.

I continued backing out safely, turning, and edging out into the street. Once on the public street, the police car lit up his lights (no siren necessary), pulling me to the side of the road before I even got underway.

Crap. “Are you decent?” … “Yes … what’s going on? We didn’t do anything wrong.” … “Doesn’t matter, we gotta deal. Stay cool, don’t say anything.”

The officer approached, and asked for my license and registration. Standard. Then he asked me to get out of the car. Damn. Field sobriety test … no problem, I hadn’t been drinking. Only after this he said,

“Your being in that alley this time of night looked suspicious.”

“Well, frankly, we were looking for a spot for a little fun, but after turning in there a little ways we changed our mind." (Yes, I lied a little.)

“Who’s the young lady?”

“My wife.”

“She lives with you at the same address?”

“Yes.”

“The way you backed out of that corner looked like you might be under the influence; have you been drinking?”

“Oh, you mean the way I nicked that curb?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, no, actually we were arguing over the window defogger. I was trying to keep the AC on to pull moisture out of the air to help defog the windows, and she was wanting the heater on to stay warm, but that was dumping moisture out of defogger, increasing the window fogging. As we argued I got a little distracted and nicked the curb.”

He looked down at my license, stifling a little laugh, then handed it back to me and said,

“Yep, you’re married. Have a good night.”