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Je veux être la fille avec la plupart de gâteau. Regardez-moi dans la glace.

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07 August 2007

 

Nightie

It was 5 AM. The grey light was just coming through the window in the adjoining room. Nobody slept there, my children had crashed on the couches in the main house last night. I know better than to move them. Never mind that I couldn't move Miles even if I wanted to.

Jason and Collie slept upstairs, sure to wake in about five hours if things remained quiet.

In my semi-slumbering, not wanting to be awake and gorgeously horny state, I closed my eyes, exhaled and pulled his arm across my body as I spooned my back up next to him. His hand naturally cupped a breast, flicking its nipple absentmindedly through the fabric of my nightie as he kissed the back of my head.

In a rare moment, I realized that, no matter how much I want to let him sleep–my Jefferson, knowing how many demands (self-inflicted or not) are put upon him in daily life, making vacation sleep a long awaited treat–I very much wanted to fuck him.

Here. In this bed which his grandmother had made up for us. Where his children lay within earshot and their clothes and swimsuits and hair ties littered the floor of our room–here, in white sheets smelling of Clorox and cool as the recirculated air, I needed to fuck him.

I was already semi-consciously pressing my hips into his pelvis, given my ass's advantageous position and the fact that I was naked under my white cotton nightie. He sighed, then inhaled. I knew he'd opened his eyes.

"Heyyy," I said.

"'Morning, love," he managed.

I flipped him onto his back and pinned his hands next to his shoulders, lowering my face to his. As I systematically avoided kissing him, but bringing my face thiiis close, I smiled and lowered myself to his cock, which was hard and receptive. I sucked him slowly and with real joy: I adore taking his cock into my mouth.

"Ahhh, honey, that's . . . perfect."

That was all I needed to hear. I wasn't sucking to get him off, I was sucking to get me off. The fact that he thought it perfection was a bonus. I sucked him long and steady, never varying speed or intensity. I reached into the pillowcase for supplies I'd put there the night before, so I wouldn't have to go hunting in the morning.

His hands were in my hair, stroking it, doing that thing that hands do when eyes are not probing other eyes for their mirrored adoring gazes. I pulled up and looked at him, gave him the glance and smirked. His dick was so ready.

After the appropriate preparations I sat up on my knees, lifted my nightie and lowered myself onto him. I rode him slowly up and down, watching his mouth open and close with the sensations, feeling his hands sliding across the thin fabric of my nightie over my hips, around my waist, up to my breasts.

I leaned forward, taking his hands in my own and pressing down, down on his cock, giving myself a shallow fucking with it, squeezing my pussy around the head on its exit and reentry. He liked that. I decided I didn't want to finish just yet.

I slowly circled his dick with my pelvis and he pulled down the shoulder of my gown, exposing a breast.

I took my hand to the back of his neck and pulled him up to suck and bite it as i rode his cock, bringing his upper body toward me as I rocked my cunt onto his cock at the perfect angle, not wanting to let go, coming in gasps and staggered whispered "oh, oh, ohs" and finishing with a shallow ride on his dick, my body covering his, kisses dotting his face, my hips moving in small and deliberate arcs.

He came shortly afterwards, silently, grasping the eyelet trim of my nightie, which had never been pulled completely off.

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2 Comments:

Blogger Wendy said...

...dayum!

8/08/2007  
Blogger Dee said...

Once again, you amaze me with your prose. And your amazing sex!

Very clever keeping supplies in a pillowcase, as well. Must remember that.

xx Dee

8/09/2007  

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