I’ve always known that I’m more sexually experienced and adventurous than my husband.

I’m not saying that I slept with a pile of guys before we got married, but I’ve always been precocious. I know what I like, and I go after it.

When I met him, James was a chronic “nice guy” who even by his late twenties had not explored much beyond your basic missionary or cowgirl sex — and always with the lights off. I cannot entirely blame the prudes he dated, either. James came from a conservative, country club-faring family, and the girls in those circles never admit to using their mouth “there” or liking it back “there” or anything else that isn’t an admission of their love of (insert preppy designer name). My sweet husband was conditioned from birth to feel guilty for asking for satisfaction, because even in our modern times, “nice girls” still aren’t supposed to do “that.” (Yes, I’m rolling my eyes, too.)

Dating me blew the door wide open for James, and once he crossed the threshold, he was happy to be done with bland, taupe, Pottery Barn sex. We met at an office-supply store when I helped him pick out some diploma frames. I was in the checkout with my printer ink when he stopped me and asked for my number.

After a few dates, I finally told him I worked in advertising — copywriting in the adult industry — not knowing how he might react. But after telling me that I should be proud to have made it so far, his primary concern was hoping that he would be able to “excite” me enough. And that’s when I knew there was real promise in whatever we had going; we were married a little over a year later.

Sometimes I’m cleaning the house and find “surprise” packages of naughty lingerie, or he’ll call me up on a Friday afternoon and tell me to pack for a hot weekend away. But like any mere mortal, when he’s stressed at the office (he’s a big-time corporate accountant) or anxious about a looming project, he “turns off.” While I’ve since learned how to keep his embers glowing, I can remember a pivotal — and very sexy episode — that took place early in our marriage.

The recession had hit, and James was worried about getting laid off. We had just bought our house, and his upcoming performance review could make or break him. Everything was piling up at once, so I knew he needed a serious ego boost — and we needed to connect in a way that would make him remember.

I waited until he got home from the gym. I stepped into the shower before I stripped down to just my lacy thigh-highs and retrieved the expensive Italian silk necktie he had just discarded. I sprawled in the middle of our bed and teased my nipples with the silky material while my fingers roved downward to stroke my clit. By the time James emerged from the shower, I had worked myself into a frenzy.

He stepped out of the bathroom and did an instant double take, honing in on the site of my wet cunt. “What’s going on here, Trisha?”

Without stopping what I was doing, I licked my lips. “I thought you needed a little Happy Hour.”

James dropped his towel to the ground and joined me on the bed. He kissed me on the mouth and worked his way down, his tongue slowly replacing my fingers.

I moaned and tilted my hips forward, loving the feel of his clean-shaven face on my inner thighs.

“You taste so good, baby,” James whispered as he slid a finger into me.

“Mmm, yes,” I squirmed. “Oh, God — I really want you to fuck me… ”

My “nice guy” always loved to make me finish first, and that’s exactly what he did. And as I lay there in a soaking, pliable heap, he put my legs over his shoulders and pounded me to the hilt. I came at least three more times before James finished.

Afterward, I patted up my sweat and sweet juices with his tie and teased him. “Don’t take this to the dry cleaners yet… ”

“I have no intention.” He chuckled and leaned back. “Thanks, I needed this… ”

“Well, it’s not my only surprise.”

“Oh?”

“I ordered you a new suit from Luca Clothiers, so we’re going this weekend for a fitting,” I said. (James not only had a weakness for custom tailoring, but he also needed it since being so tall made off-the-rack shopping difficult.)

“Oh, wow, honey, you didn’t have to do that… ”

“Fucking in a men’s dressing room had always been on my list of public sex fantasies.”

I smiled. “I think for your big review coming up soon that you deserve a nice new suit and they already have your measurements,” I caressed his face. “I know you’ve been wanting another basic piece.”

“But — ”

“No buts.” I kissed him on the forehead. “I got an unexpected commission, and I won’t take no for an answer, anyway.”

“Really? Even if I end up kicked to the curb because I’m ‘redundant’ or some crap?”

“Well, I don’t think that will happen — I think they’re going to kiss your ass. But no matter what happens, you deserve to feel good.” I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “And I just love seeing how confident and cocky you get when you’re all dressed for success.” I stroked his thigh.

James puffed up his shoulders. “I can get cocky for you anytime.” He squeezed my ass and pulled me on top of him — and then we happily went at it again.

Fast-forward to the weekend: James and I had brunch and then headed to the tailor. Little did he know that he would be getting dressed — and then undressed — for success.

James’s favorite tailor is a place where customers get private attention in their own fitting “suites”, which have these wild wrap-around mirrors, so you get a 360-degree view of any given outfit. James stood on a stool in the center of the room, which was tended to by one of the Italian shop owners, Marco.

“Honey, what do you think?” James glanced over his shoulder at me.

“Hmm, I like it, but I think it’s also a little boxy in the back. Maybe a tighter line?”

Marco nodded. “I think your wife is right. Let me fix this.”

The rest of the fitting went off without a hitch. Marco took the jacket from us. “Leave the pants and shirt on the hanger in there. I’ll correct the hem and have everything for you by the end of next week.”

“Great,” James shoot Marco’s hand.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you so much.” I smiled at Marco. “We won’t be long. I just want to show him some accessories I noticed, if that’s okay?”

Marco gave me a little knowing wink. “You guys take your time.” He exited the fitting suite and shut the door behind him.

I turned and smiled at James. “You look really good. I’m glad you like this color.”

“It’s nice to have something besides black wool. You did great.” He kissed me. “So, what about these ties?” James gestured to the colorful pile of silk nearby.

I clicked the lock shut on our suite door. “Go take that off so we don’t mess up the pins and I’ll model them for you.”

“Oh — okay!” His cheeks flushed as if he already knew what I had dreamed up. He ran over to the small changing area.

Meanwhile, I shimmied out of my dress. For this wild public seduction, I had selected a sexy red strapless bra and matching thong panties with Cuban-heeled stockings. Fucking in a men’s dressing room had always been on my list of public sex fantasies, so I was happy to check this one off the bucket list. But for James, I’m pretty sure it was his first time in public, period. No doubt he would never forget this. I’d make sure of it.

I stepped up on the pedestal with a colorful selection of ties draped around me like a multi-part boa. “Ready, baby?”

“While I deep-throated him, James gently tugged on the ties, pulling me closer and closer.”

James stepped out in only his black boxer briefs. “Holy shit!” he laughed. He kissed my cheek and played with the ties. “How will I ever choose?”

I giggled and embraced him, then he whispered, “How did I get so fucking lucky?”

He reached around, unclasped my bra, and began teasing my nipples with the ties and looping them around my tits. “I think I like the champagne color. Maybe the green?”

“I don’t think you can go wrong with any them.”

He leaned in and sucked my nipples. “Mmm… nope… ”

We kissed, then I went right for his stiff cock, sliding my hand through the thin slit in his boxer briefs. I stepped off the pedestal, got on my knees, and took him all the way into my mouth.

While I deep-throated him, James gently tugged on the ties, pulling me closer and closer. I face-fucked him for a few moments before rolling his wet cock between my breasts and the fancy ties while I teased his head with my tongue.

“I love seeing how much you want me,” I whispered as the pre-come and spit rolled down my chin.

James groaned but held it together. “Turn around,” he said.

I obeyed, and James slid down my thong and began fucking me doggy-style. It was such a rush looking up and seeing myself getting pounded in the wrap-around mirrors. And from what I could tell of my husband’s expression, fucking me like this, so out in the open, so brazenly, was a whole new level of arousal.

“Oh, fuck! Harder!” I moaned trying to keep quiet through clenched teeth. I frantically rubbed my clit as James nailed my G-spot. In almost no time, I squirted right there on the floor.

And then I turned around so James could finish on my face and tits. We ended up buying four silk neckties that day. You come on it, you buy it.

Perhaps bolstered by a newfound sense of confidence, James wore his new suit to the dreaded performance review and ended up getting promoted. Naturally, we had to buy him another suit to celebrate — and christen his new corner office after hours — but that’s another story.