I loved her because she was the perfect wife. She was sensible and stable, intelligent and caring. A career woman. But one thing she wasn't was freaky... She didn’t need to be. I loved her because she was the opposite. “You’re about as freaky as a pair of slippers and a cup of hot cocoa.”“I know. But I feel like I missed out on doing stuff like that when I was young. My parents were strict.”I wasn't convinced. “You’d hate it. Being hot, smelly and sweaty is not your thing.”“I know. But it would. “Can you teach me how to kiss?” she’d texted. “I don’t think I know how to do it the way you’re supposed to. And blowjobs. I want to know how it’s done properly. I need to learn everything.” My dick swelled each time I received one of these little gems. We had a lot of ground to cover. If this happened at all, then she was going to get a full course of training. I wasn’t going to throw everything into her first lesson. “I’m still looking forward,” she’d written the previous day. “But I’m. More

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