Sunday, April 17, 2011

River's turn

River was talking about the laundry room. Or was she? She’s called it the least sexy room in the house. So what if it is, I think. But she has completely different ways of thinking. More than one. I can never be quite sure which way she might be thinking. I’m not even sure what all her ways are. No matter how well I know her, no matter how much history we have together, she can surprise me. When she talks about the laundry room, I’m surprised. There’s something we need to do together in it, she says. We’re about due for something interesting, she says. And she may still be wanting to make it up to me for the night at the train station.

But that’s not what she was talking about at all. She’s talking about orgasming tonight. That's how different we can think.

She seems stressed out. Not very orgasmic. What relaxes her? A warm bath. Being slathered with body butter. Both. She wants the butter. I never turn down a chance to touch every curve of her body. From her toes, up her legs, her butt, her back. She turns over and runs her fingers across her stomach and I butter it to enhance the experience. Slather her arms to a supple silkiness. Her breasts saved for last. Her nipples firm up nicely as my fingers slip over them.

“You can start.” She doesn’t have to wait for me. It’s her turn. Her fingers start right in on her clit. My fingers stay on her boobs. I love their compactness. Just enough to turn me on. Hard. “You can do that to my boobs as long as you want.” “Thanks for letting me know.” Her chest is my playground. I’m tickling, smashing, squeezing, apart, together, both hands, one hand, pulling her nipples, pressing them, top down, bottom up, outwards, inwards, around, while she closes her eyes and thinks of whatever she thinks of while she masturbates. Thinking of how it feels, she’s told me. But I’m focused on her tits, with only the occasional soft wet smack of her pussy to remind me of what she’s doing. “I can take over if you get tired.” She’s been at it a while. But she seems relaxed. Eyes closed. That’s good.

“Here it is.” Her body shakes. Her fingers alternately play on her clit and rest on it. I want to fuck her in her orgasm. Of course. But we’ll get to that. “That was a strange one. Like it wasn’t all there.” That’s not so good. Maybe she was too stressed after all.

“What now?” “Hello kitty.” “That should be interesting.” For both of us. She sits up, reaching down for her button. I sit behind her and stroke my cock, my thumb sliding upwards along the top, trying to coax it into standing up. My hand slides under her and the spread of her pussy feels nice from behind. Her cunt feels cool and wet when I slip a finger in. And tight. “I want to get my cock in there.” It’s not fully hard but I press it in. And we fuck. Almost. If it didn’t keep slipping out. “Is it a problem with the angle?” “It’s a problem with hardness.” I slip my cock into her once again. This time we’re less aggressive. “I can’t even tell. It feels nice and big to me.” “Your orgasm has engorged you.” It’s more noticeable from behind. The sides of her pussy are firmer. Closer together. Tighter. My cock appreciates it and stiffens quickly. And now, we fuck.

“I wish you could see yourself like this.” I describe her shape for her as I trace it, widening across her shoulders, tapering in to her waist, spilling out into her smooth ass nestled between my spread legs, her nice piece of girl, my hard cock bridging the gap between us. “Can you get another one?” “I already have.” I wish she’d tell me. “But like the first. Not all there somehow.”

So it’s my turn. We fuck, my cock reveling in the tightness of her post-orgasm pussy. “Not so deep today.” A bit tender in there. But it’s just as nice going halfway in, and I have to ask her to stop moving so I can hold off while my cock twitches at the edge of my own orgasm. “You’re nice and tight tonight.” On a sudden whim I lie down on my side while she stays in hello kitty. “That’s different.” It’s strange seeing her from the side while she fucks me in this position. Somewhat voyeuristic. “I can see your tits from here.” Her nipples spouting exuberantly from her breasts, at slightly different angles. Then she rolls in front of me and we’re spooning together until I sit back up and we’re in t-bone. “Mix and match.”

But tonight needs nothing less than a sweet and raunchy face to face finish. River rolls onto her back, flips a leg over me, and I push between them, hard, forgetting about not going deep, harder, my cock plunging all the way into her warmth, her wet, her squeeze, her raunchy, until it’s my turn to come. “I’ll finish.” It’s too good not to. “I can feel it coming already.” One of those rare orgasms, my jizz flowing before I come, tickling up my urethra, streaming from my slit, I want to hold the feeling but I can’t and my orgasm grabs me, hurls me against her, breaks me on her, and I'm moaning, panting, pulling my shattered pieces slowly back together. And remembering.

1 comment

Margot said...

"I want to hold the feeling but I can’t and my orgasm grabs me, hurls me against her, breaks me on her, and I'm moaning, panting, pulling my shattered pieces slowly back together."

I'm so curious about what orgasms feel like for men, and I'll never actually be able to understand, but if it feels half as primitive as that reads, it must be amazing.

Post a comment: