We lay cuddling last week in my bed and then suddenly we weren’t.
I grabbed the soft mound of flesh beneath his basketball shorts and squeezed and pressed my cheek on his warm, firm chest then slid my head up until the bridge of my nose rested under his jaw. I have discovered a place here which is even better than the nook. It’s my nook within the nook.
He sighed against me and I continued to slide my hand on his stiffening bulge. His hand traced swirls on my arm and I sunk deeper into a new state of being, so far from stress and worry which I’d been wearing for so long before that moment.
I melted against him beneath my closed lids and let him kiss my face and my lips, his cock hard and twitching beneath my fingers. I deftly pulled his waistband down as he equally deftly lifted his hips and let me slide them down around his thick, round backside.
The lights were on and illuminated our pale limbs and lit his icy blue eyes upon my darker ones. Finally, I thought, I could lose myself again. It’d been far too long. Boxes and money and my failed marriage, my hurting baby and career worries, they all twirled away like smoke. None of that mattered. All that mattered for those moments turned into minutes, were the two of us returning to what we knew best about one another.
My hand wrapped around his giant hot cock as he shifted over me, his mouth was wet and urgent on mine, then his hands were pulling off my little pajama shorts and his knees shoving mine wide apart. Soon, soon!
I held my breath and clung to his bare shoulders and let my gaze hold his for one, two, three seconds before I had to break away. Still, after everything, I am a chicken shit to let my soul pool in my eyes for him to see.
Shirt hiked up over my jiggling breasts, cock knocking at my door, a push, a sigh, then the long, deep slide into home. My home.
This is always where I will feel welcome, like I always belong.
His hips curved into me slowly at first as he warmed up and then the tempo increased to a frenzy. Banging, moaning, arching, begging.
I breathed in his puffs of breath upon my neck and reveled in his warm, manly weight pinning me to the mattress. I hoped we disturbed my cranky asshole downstairs neighbor.
He sat up then and did his move, the one that slays me each and every time. Sometimes I resent his control over my body and our easy slide into a routine, but not that night. That night my eyes widened with anticipation and I couldn’t wait for the thrill of orgasms his body would play upon mine.
With my ankles hitched up on his shoulders he angled himself inside of me to hit my g-spot and rammed away at me as the orgasms bled through me and I felt my juices release down the crack of my bottom. I whimpered and bit my own forearm to keep from screaming and thrashed around like a wild animal.
I begged for breaks and he gave them to me before starting up again, splitting my legs this way and that then flipping me over and twisting my long hair around his hand for a better grip and let loose on me from behind.
Tears slipped out of my eyes and I lifted my rump to meet his hips; my breath stolen by his weight and strength surging into me. I pushed back onto him as he threw himself towards my throat through my fucking pussy. Such a good boy.
His hand slammed down on one flank, then the other, and I hoped he’d leave a mark on me. Then I held my breath and hoped he’d cum, but he didn’t, like so many times before. It’s a rare occurrence now, so we finish when he gets tired, not when he’s climaxed. So I simply have to wait for him to tire and embrace the selfish feelings of pleasure he so eagerly gives to me. It’s a tough life, I know.
Eventually, my robust lover grew exhausted and fell limp like a giant, panting puppy who’s run wild in the yard on top of me. My puppy, though.
It was good to fuck like old times again and it was good to be home.