A good damn night

This is a tale of fiction and fantasy, written to stretch my skills at imagery and also to tease and please the mind. This is not a guarantee of

I had a long night last night. No one was cooperative, nothing got done, and someone in the kitchen left the stove on and burnt some sauce all to hell. Of course no one noticed until the middle of the night when smoke starts drifting into the lobby. Breakfast was late, I missed the bus, and it was Sunday morning so a longer wait for the next one than usual. What should have been an easy night and a twenty minute ride turned into an ordeal by fire. All of these things by themselves are no problem, but everything at once? Come on! The half mile trudge through the rain to get home was the cherry on top of my shitty Sunday. All I wanted was a shower and to sleep.

There’s something about taking a hot, steaming shower that melts the worries of the day away. I’m torn between soaking longer and knowing you are in bed waiting for me. It’s the weekend and while I’m busy every night making sure other people’s vacations go off smoothly, you got to go out and have a good time, texting me all night, asleep by four in the morning, blissful and calm. I can’t wait to join you.

After my shower I’m warm and damp, my skin glowing from the hot water. My skin is smooth and soft, waiting for a kiss of lotion to seal the softness in. My hair is damp and smells like coconut, sweet and buttery, waiting to dry and fall in a soft silken halo around my face. I feel tired and relaxed, unwinding and getting ready to climb into bed next to you, wrap my arms around you, rest my head in the hollow of your shoulder, and twine our legs together to sleep.

Of course you have other ideas…

As I slip into bed with you, you turn and kiss me. Our hot breath mingles a little as our lips meet, caress each other, remove what worries I have left. I can feel affection in the kiss, and sleepy interest… a hint of lust waking up. I know what you have in mind. You tell me all the time how much you love to make me wriggle and moan and breath heavily with your tongue and your hands. Normally after a night like last night I just want to sleep, but the memory of our previous encounters and the powerful orgasms you’ve given me before entice me to stay awake. After so many times together we know each others’ rhythms and you can tell by my smile and the small flirty giggles and sighs that I’m open to a little interlude before slipping off to sleep.

I love it when you’re firm and gentle. Your right hand presses against my shoulder, pushing me onto my back where I can lie in perfect relaxation and enjoy the pleasure you bring as your fingertips brush across my skin. It’s the lightest touch, like a kitten’s fur, a rose petal against the skin… silken. Because I can barely feel it it demands my attention. My skin has such terrible sensitivity I can’t escape feeling that tingle across my skin. Your fingertips start at my lips, taking in the softness and how pliable they are, making use of the millions of nerve endings to send shivers down my spine and out to my toes and fingertips. You trace the curve of my cheek and that silly =dimple in my chin and though my eyes are closed (all the better to focus on the feeling) I know you’re looking at me, listening to me, drinking in the reactions you’re drawing from me. I can feel you brush across my collarbone, then lower, drifting close but not just yet to my nipple which is fast hardening, anticipating the touch.

Thoughts flit into and out of my mind too quickly to follow. Nothing noteworthy, just the assorted confusion of a day of sensory input. All of it is being overpowered by this tiniest of feelings, your fingerprints catching on the goosebumps you raise on my skin. Waves flow under my skin, rippling away from where you touch me, feeling exactly the way the water must feel on a sandy beach, when that top layer of fine, fine sand skitters to and fro just under the waves. It’s as if my skin is the water, the sand is below the surface of my skin, and it tickles and tantalizes and moves in waves back and forth, chasing relaxation and sleepiness before it and leaving dunes of desire and arousal behind. As your hands move up and down me the ripples move ahead of them and farther; I can feel the silken sand in my hard nipples, my thighs, and my arms… between my legs even. You know my rhythms and you keep going just past the point where I want you to touch me harder, denying immediate gratification, forcing me to go just past the point of need but not so far I can’t feel it anymore.

Your lips and tongue begin their work on me, bringing new sensations. Every time you gently wiggle my nipple with your tongue or your lips, there is a fire stoked between my legs. It doesn’t take much. Less is definitely more here. I’m so close to being ready but you know the anticipation hasn’t built enough yet. Your hard cock is resting against my hip, throbbing and leaving trails of slick, sticky precum, but not close enough to where I want it. I want the head of your hard cock, slick with desire and sex, to press against me and slide over my clit. No hands, no tongue, no silicone gadget can ever replace the perfect soft firmness of what has to be the most flattering and unfakeable evidence of your enjoyment of and desire for me.

You’ve made the decision, I can tell. You look at me with a mischievous twinkle in your eye and move yourself down, settling between my knees as I spread my legs eagerly. I remember last time, and the time before, and the time before. Much like good food, I can’t get enough of great sex. You pause a moment, heightening the tension, then use your soft fingertips to open me until you can see how wet I’ve become. The scent of a clean, healthy young woman is one I personally enjoy. I love kissing my lover right after you’ve spent good time on me. I can smell and taste the wetness from my pussy on your face. I can tell you got into it because it’s on your chin, and you have to take a moment to wipe some of it off before you kiss me again.

Your tongue touches my clit and I spasm. It’s so gentle it’s almost painful. I want you to lick me, hard, press yourself into me, but you know that after only a moment of that I can’t take anything else so you don’t allow me what I want, you instead dole out what is best for me, for this sex. I have the image in my mind of you entering me, sliding inside me after you’ve made me so wet I’m dripping and at the same time I have the feeling of your tongue and lips stroking and sliding all over my clit and around it, sending sensations rocking through my body. You use your fingers gently but firmly to stimulate me as if you were sliding inside me, causing even more desire. Your hands are slender, soft, and warm, but they are not enough; they are not your cock. I want you inside me and you deny me while at the same time pleasuring me. I have to remind myself to be careful with the spasms that bring my legs together around your ears, I don’t want to hurt you but it’s hard to control. The backs of my knees are on your shoulders, my hips heave, and you ride my shudders. Your hands wrap around my legs and hold onto my hips. I draw you as close and as hard into me as I can for long seconds. A string of gasps and epithets, a series of words like a sex mantra drawn from the base mind that has no words for what is happening, and no attention to spare for finding them. Images flicker through my mind as fast as sensations flood my body. I like to call these my little orgasms. There is no discernible climax, only a flood of heightened sense and a feeling of needing more, more, more. An addiction that can only be satisfied by full, firm penetration. I’ve passed the point where I need to be fucked but I can’t being myself to ask you to stop your work on me. There’s not enough thought left to make a decision until finally I can’t take it anymore. I break my catch 22. I need you.

I sit up, interrupting your enthusiastic, thorough tongue fucking, and you know. You’ve known, but with part sadistic desire to push me, part selfishness, part single-mindedness you didn’t want to give up so easily. We both know I need you to fuck me, but not yet. It’s my turn.

I draw you up next to me and push you down on your back so I can reach your erection with my hands and my mouth. At this point I lack the finesse and restraint you have displayed. I’m already holding back on impaling myself on your erection so that I can take it as deep as I can and pleasure you with my mouth and my hands. Being penetrated turns me on, even if it isn’t exactly where I really want it, so while one hand is grasping what I can’t fit in my mouth, stimulating you as firmly as I can, my other hand wanders to where your mouth just was. The more I slide my mouth up and down on your cock the wetter I get until I’m past the end of my rope. I’ve fallen from it and my only option is to fuck you.

The moment of first penetration is incredible. It’s what I’ve been waiting for for half an hour now while we teased and licked and sucked on each other. We’ve been pleasuring each other for what seems like forever but this is what I needed. You sink deep inside with no resistance. At this point we’re both so slick and wet it’s almost frictionless. I can feel the ridge at the head of your cock pressing into the soft yeilding walls of my pussy as I sink down, lower, until I can’t take any more of you. The pressure inside me feels so satisfying. I want it again. I lift myself up and down again, savoring the feeling of penetration. I love it. Your cock is hot and firm and slick and velvety. Your face as I fuck you is ecstatic. I feel like a goddess bringing unexplainable and powerful feelings to my worshiper. I love the way you put your hands on my ass and pull me into you, like no matter how deep you push into me, we can’t be close enough. I love how you sound when you moan how much you love the way I feel.

I’m completely focused on your cock in my pussy and my hand on my clit. Between the two sensations I can feel an orgasm building. I’m leaning over you, panting into your ear and thinking about how much I want to feel you come inside me. I want to feel you filling me. I want to hear your orgasm on your breath and in your voice. My mind conjures images of cum spurting from your cock and into me, onto my clit, hot and salty and sexy. Between panting and swearing I tell you I’m close. You grab my ass and it send me over the edge. I bury my face in the pillow and yell. I’m swearing to God and crying out in pleasure. With my hand I can feel the muscles in my pussy contracting around your cock as the waves make me shudder and yell. I feel release. I’m not done yet.

The thought of your orgasm keeps me wet while I up the pace. You’ve given me a body shattering orgasm and I’m hoping to return the favor. I tell you not to hold back, it’s your turn now. I know I’ve only got a limited amount of time before I can’t take the sensations anymore so I take full advantage of my endorphin high to fuck you like a porn star. Our hips come together as I ride you, your hands on my ass pressing me harder, faster, until I can feel that moment right before your orgasm when your cock gets rock hard, your breath shortens, you break your focus and concentration and start swearing along with me. I can feel the spasms of your body as you come inside me and I grind my hips down to yours so your pelvis presses on my clit. It’s almost like I get to have two orgasms. I love everything about this. My body tenses with you and relaxes with you. I start rubbing my clit again, gently, with your cock spent but still firm inside me. It feels good but I can’t last.

I lay down on top of you, still entwined, sated, happy, sleepy. I suppose it wasn’t such a bad night.