It had been two months since I’d last met with S . . . he’d been away and with all sorts of family commitments for the both of us, we’d just been unable to arrange compatible dates. We still spoke regularly on the phone of course, he phones me at least twice a week when he knows I’m on the bus on my way to work. Eventually we’d been able to arrange a date for last Wednesday. I took a change of clothes, and shoes, into work as I normally do, but still wasn’t feeling those tingles of anticipation that I usually feel, even as I washed and changed after everyone else had left the office. Instead I felt strangely apprehensive and nervous . . .
We’d agreed to meet at our normal Italian, and as soon as I walked in to find him smiling and waiting, I suddenly felt completely at ease. We stood kissing passionately, the two owners laughing at us as they’ve always greeted us as “Mr & Mrs”, and S noticed their startled looks and teased that it was a “special night”. They immediately assumed something that it completely wasn’t . . . but told me I should order my wine “on the house” . . . an offer which, of course, I gratefully and gigglingly accepted. I slapped S playfully on the wrist as we sat down and told him he was “so naughty”. He laughed and whispered his reply “I hope to be”.
It was such a lovely meal, catching-up on his family holiday stories, his work and everything else that we’d both been doing and had only had the chance to briefly talk about in our phone conversations. He was driving of course and so had me finish almost the whole bottle by myself. How could I refuse!!!
We left with the owner and his wife clapping us out the door . . . and us both laughing and hugging each other down the street as I admonished S for his deceit. Our cuddles continued after we’d reached his car, turning into more passionate kisses and his hands sliding up under my top and making me gasp and squirm as he pinched and played. I managed to retain some sort of composure despite my light-headedness and arousal and eventually persuaded him to “drive”. It’s only a short distance to “our” hotel and his hands and lips returned to their wandering as soon as he’d parked. I told him I had to shower and that he was wasting valuable time (punctuating what has now become our favourite personal phrase, with a more colourful emphasis!)
I had to remind him of the same phrase again as we entered our room and he tried to pull me straight to the bed. “I have to have a shower!” He followed me into the bathroom and “helped” me undress as I ran the water . . . and then stepped into the bath behind me offering to soap my back. I could feel his excitement as he cuddled into me and rubbed the flannel and suds down over my shoulders.
We dried each other off and kissed and fondled our way to the bed. He lay me back and knelt beside me stroking my arms and leaning forward to kiss at my breasts and tummy. He turned me on my side as he lay down next to me and slid his hand down over my tummy. I quickly found myself lifting my leg and moaning as I felt his fingers sliding around my lips and his tongue flicking over my nipples as he pulled himself closer into me. “Chew them” I was groaning at him as his mouth sucked from one to the other. His fingers always seem to just slide so easily into me . . . he whispered “so juicy” as he lifted his head away from my breasts for a moment and his fingers pushed and twirled. I squealed a little as he bit down on my nipple again. But quickly pushed his head to the other breast and squeezed my legs tighter over his wrist to make sure he knew I liked the sensation and my squeal was of pleasure and not a painful request for him to stop. “How many?” I gasped into his ear as his wrist continued it’s twisting and pushing. He pulled away and looked up to say “three” as he pushed again.
By the time he pulled his mouth away from my breasts, and slid down the bed further to start licking at me, I was already shaking and wanting so much to come with his fingers pushing and stroking inside me. I was still on my side as he repositioned himself and twisted on the bed to lift my leg up wider with his free hand and slide his mouth forward over my lips and clitty. I felt his fingers stroking and his tongue flicking and couldn’t stop myself letting go . . . “Oh, fucking hell . . . fucking me . . . ” I gasped and groaned, rocking back and forth onto my back and up again, and locking my legs over his wrist as I squirmed and shook, eventually releasing my grip on him and collapsing onto my back and then rolling over onto my side. I knew I’d been really loud and was still moaning as I rolled onto my side and pulled my knees up into my tummy. He pulled himself back up the bed and cuddled into my back, kissing my shoulders and neck and whispering “shhh”. After a few moments of silence he started whispering questions at me, but the rhythm of his whispers and the releasing sensations I was feeling . . . and his gentle stroking of my arm . . . completely failed in his attempt to stop me drifting off into an almost immediate and, apparently, unwakeable sleep.
I knew I’d dozed, but it had seemed like just a few minutes to me, instead of the “half-an-hour or more of snoring” that he said I’d had before he managed to shake me awake. He rolled me onto my back and sat-up on the bed next to me smiling and shaking his head. “Haven’t seen you for months and you fall asleep on me” he teased. I felt too exhausted and drained to rise to the bait, instead just shaking my head and lifting my finger up to his mouth to tell him to “shhh”. He laughed, “I’m not the one who was screaming at the walls”. I sat up, “God was I really that loud?”, remembering that on one previous occasion someone in the next room had banged on the wall.
Sitting up with him now I began returning his caresses, reaching into his lap. His willy felt smooth and warm as I stroked at it, and as we kissed I began to feel it growing and feeling firmer in my grasp. I pushed him down onto his back and knelt next to him . . . first stroking . . . then leaning forwards to flick my tongue over it as I could feel, and see, it getting larger and straighter. I lifted my legs up over his and rubbed forwards, rubbing my nipples over his, and sliding my pussy over his hardness. I love looking down between our tummies and seeing my lips squashing either side of his cock, sliding up and down over it almost wrapping together around his head, and then stretching apart again as I slide it back towards his sacs. His hands slid down to my hips and we lifted up together before I pushed back down over him and I felt him sliding straight into my pussy. I pushed my hands against his chest, pushing him back down onto his back and giggling as I teasingly lifted up and down and twisted my hips forwards and backwards on him. He was reaching his fingers up to my nipples again, but I spread his hands out instead, holding his palms against my breasts, “tender” I whispered to him as we were each gasping and rocking up and down on each other. We each leaned forwards to each other, me leaning down, him lifting up, to kiss and swirl our tongues around inside each others mouth. He suddenly stopped his pumping and thrusting up against me and reached down to my hips to roll me over off him and onto the bed. He turned me over onto my tummy and then knelt with one leg in-between mine, pushing his knee forwards and squeezing the cheeks of my bottom and kissing my back . . . And then down further and further until I felt his tongue sliding between my cheeks. As he’d slid further down the bed his body weight and chest and then shoulders had opened my legs wider and wider, and his tongue continued it’s path down and down. I lifted my bottom upwards as his tongue slid further. His hands spread my cheeks and then he reached forward to lift my knees up and forwards, lifting my bottom up further. I felt his tongue pull away from my clit and slide back upwards . . . I could hear his gasping and feel his breath . . . and then his tongue pushing, and twirling and pushing.
He got up off the bed and I reached up to pull the pillows down under my chin, looking back over my shoulder as I felt him kneeling back beside me and then between my legs as I opened them wider again. I gasped as I felt him rubbing the gel down between my cheeks. I leaned forward into the pillows, biting into the fabric to muffle my moans as I felt his hands pulling my hips back against him. We were both gasping and groaning with the feeling as he pushed into me . . . I knew that even with my face buried into the pillow, my groans were louder as I tried to adjust against the discomfort and . . . then that relieving push. I felt his hands sliding upwards under my tummy, not to their usual probing and swirling around my clit, but this time up to my nipples. I squealed again as I felt his palms scraping under each of my nipples. I pressed down against them, pushing his hands down onto the bed with my breasts. He was pumping quite quickly into me now, too quickly. I reached down with my own hands under my tummy, reaching between my legs trying to feel him, trying to touch his balls or hold him . . . the thrusting was too much though . . . I felt the pressure slapping my fingers between the bed and my lips. I could hear his grunting, I was conscious of my squeals into the pillow . . . I felt my finger over my clit, sliding it up inside myself . . . I could feel the pressure of his cock . . . I wondered for an instant if he could feel the pressure of my finger against his cock . . . then felt myself letting go with a huge muffled scream, pulling my finger, and my hands, away. An instant later I felt the pull, and the release, as we seemed to pull apart from one another, his weight falling forwards onto me, squashing me into the mattress. I heard his gasping on my shoulder and felt his hands sliding down around my tummy and rolling the both of us onto our side. We were rocking and moaning together, shaking and shuddering slower and slower, until we stopped, him cuddling and squeezing me into him.
We lay without speaking for several minutes, just each gasping and occasionally shuddering independently of one another. Suddenly I felt the dribbling and had to roll onto my back and open my legs. I had to rub it against the bed clothes, I couldn’t stop myself, it was squelchy and damp but I was too drained to move or sit up and search for tissues. S was laying beside me breathing heavily and occasionally whispering “God, oh god”. Eventually we both rolled over to face each other and cuddle into one another.
My phone alarm stirred us both. We’d hardly spoken since we’d come, just cradled into each other exchanging occasional kisses and squeezing each other again. He didn’t protest as we got up and quickly dressed. I pushed my knickers into my bag and smacked his hand away when he said “Can I have them? Can I keep them?”. “No you can’t, what if she were to find them!” I laughed at his silliness. “You are joking aren’t you?” I asked, suddenly not sure from his look whether he was just teasing, or if he had really wanted to take them home with him. His shrugged response was non-committal, but I laughed it off anyway and quickly changed the subject.
Home is only a 15 minute drive at that time of night and it was only just after midnight when I quietly let myself in and saw that the front room light was still on. I giggled when I walked in to find J sitting in his usual spot on the sofa, watching the news, but completely naked and holding up a glass of wine. I teasingly stood in front of the television and dropped my bag, lifted my top up over my head and then stepped out of my skirt. “You obviously needed your evening out!” he said as he stood up and handed me the glass. I accepted the glass and reached down to pull him into me by his erection . . . “it feels like you needed my evening out too”.
Best wishes – Edith