I guess I lost track of time. “Sorry, Sara. I’ll be down in a few.”“That’s okay, but please hurry."I hear Sara talking in the kitchen as I w...lk into the foyer. I freeze when Kim’s voice becomes clear. Her voice is soft. As I listen to them talking and laughing, I realize my hands are shaking. Damnit, I’m forty-six years old and nervous as hell.I remain motionless as I ponder my position. Let’s see, married for twenty-four years, we had sex two or three times a week. I reach the conclusion I’ve. She responded hard and passionate. Her tongue groping into my mouth. She was keen. After the competition was over and everyone was finished dancing we made our way to the door. I told my date “hey you can come back to mine if you like”. “Yeah she said I think a few of us are thanks.” “Great”, I said. Dammit my friend thinks he’s sleeping at mine, plan ruined I thought. So we trudged back, my friend, his girl, my date and another girl who was friends with the two girls. We stayed up a while. She rolled off me and told me how disgusting it was but I disagreed and from the moment tried to convince her that anal licking was the bomb.The next seven years I spent getting one or two seconds of anal licking every three or four weeks but then about one year ago I realized that talking to her about anal sex might get us both closer to heaven than bickering over one or two seconds of tongue-on-ass whenever I thought her guard was down. And so it was that frustration was slowly replaced with. The room lacked anything that indicated who the occupant of the room was. It was tidy and typical, except for some unique additions. The bookshelf was devoid of any books, instead housing a full range of BDSM equipment, including restraints, hoods, gas-masks, gags, plugs, dildos, etc. In another corner of the room was a cupboard that, instead of clothes, contained more unique and custom made tools for inflicting pain. One of the walls held a coat hanger that was used to hang an assortment of.