Tuesday, May 31, 2011


“Are you ok?” “Not really.” “Does it have something to do with me?” “Maybe a little.” “Did I stay in Brook’s room too long?” “You always do.” But she always does it for the right reasons. In this case she was putting together pieces of the puzzle regarding her patient at the hospital. I approve. “Is it too late for something sweet?” “I don’t know. I was thinking of rubbing your feet earlier today.” “You can butter them. They’d like that. They’re really dry.” I won’t be able to stop with her feet. We both know that.

I start with her feet and butter her whole body while she goes over medical questions and answers. And I ask my own questions. I feel like we’re on House. I also don’t mind that she’s talking about something completely unrelated while we’re warming up. I kind of like it. I’d like to get hard and slip it into her face-to-face while she’s distracted. But I’ve got her on her front, just finishing up with her ass, buttering up her cute butthole with the edge of my hand in her crack.

I straddle her and press my thumb to her lips, liking the delicate fuzz of her muff hair and the wet sounds her pussy makes as I work my thumb into it. “Mmm, something sweet.” “I was hoping this was what you had in mind.” “It is.” The sounds have helped my cock stiffen nicely. I don’t waste time. Slip it into her from behind and push, and push some more, feeling the walls of her cunt part before my hard cock, push some more, no backing up, until I’m all the way in and she’s moaning already. And we fuck.

I feel aggressive today. She gets a good banging in several variations of butt position. I sit up and squeeze her ass cheeks together over my cock, then press her into the bed with my hands on the small of her back as I fuck hard, feeling like I’m scraping her up and down the bed as I scrub my cock with her pussy. Stretch out on top of her, feeling her nicely rounded butt against me with my cock humping in and out beneath it. “I don’t want to finish like this. I’m going to roll you over for face-to-face.”

But not yet. I slip my legs between hers and she spreads them for me. “Mmm, raunchy. I like raunchy.” She’s not kidding. I’m still banging her hard, still aggressive, picturing her pussy stretched open under her ass, my cock filling it to capacity, and she’s still moaning under me. “What was I? Nurse Hottie? Nurse Raunchy?” Nurse Raunchy sticks tonight. “I feel raunchy. I like feeling raunchy.” “You and all the other nurses.”

It’s a nice long bang in raunchy, not even having to slow down to hold off. But it’s a bit strenuous for me. I can’t just bring a knee up under her leg for a break like I can when she’s on her back. So I move a leg outside hers, straddling her right leg, watching my cock fucking into her pussy at an angle. And liking it. Doing small thrusts to stir things up. Deep thrusts to bang her hard. “This is almost inviting.” The sounds she’s making, the sounds of River being fucked, are bringing me to the edge. “Are you trying to make me come?” She doesn’t answer.

We need a face-to-face finish. But how to get there from here? We roll into spoons then she flips her leg over me like usual, keeping me inside. I sit up and hold her legs up in front of me. Minimagnetism. “That’s nice.” And vigorous. I’ve been staying nicely just below the edge of orgasm. Now it will happen. Our bodies slap together repeatedly. I push her legs to her chest and plunge deep and come hard, a honey-sweet orgasm of stickiness, and all I can say is “ooo, ooooo, ooo” while I empty my load into her.

We kiss and afterfuck while I try to remember where I took my shirt off. I pull it off the floor and drape it over her pussy for her to wipe up. Our oldest ritual.

“Didn’t we just do this yesterday?” “I don’t know. There was a time last week when we went more than three days.” That works for me.

Maybe she’s right about being most horny before her period. Even though it’s always seemed to me like she’s most horny after it. And sometimes she’s horny during it. Or maybe that’s just me.

“That was a good idea.” “Who’s idea was it?” “It was your idea, but it let me put my plan into action, so to speak.”

“I sure felt aggressive last night.” “It was great. I enjoyed it.” “You always do.”

Monday, May 30, 2011

Fuck and shop online

“Is that a ‘look’ look?” “It might have been.” I need some help. “What should I do when I get a ‘look’ look?” “We should make a plan.” For this afternoon.

River puts on panties, a skirt, and a shirt. The colors of stormy weather. She sits on my lap while she looks up travel books online. I rub my fingers on her back. Her firm butt. Around to the soft insides of her spread thighs. “I get the feeling that you don’t want to wait until this afternoon.” I haven't even had time to feel her pussy through her panties. “You can fuck and look up books at the same time.” “I could.” She’s worried about privacy. And not the online type. But we’d hear any kids coming up the stairs. And they’d have to come all the way into the room to get any idea of what might be going on.

I pull my cock out from under her ass. It’s a bit discouraging that I can’t always pop up a nice hard one when the situation calls for it. But I take my time, stroking up and down, pulling River’s skirt up, admiring the lines of the dark blue panties against the light skin of her ass, gradually getting harder. Slip a finger under the cottony crotch of her panties. Sort her lips out. Push into her wetness. Where my cock would like to follow.

I’m hard enough. She stands, her strong legs angling down to the floor, her ripe ass at the apex. Her lips dangle enticingly in the gap under her dark blue ass. I tuck her skirt into her panties to keep it out of the way. Try to line my cock up for her descent but her panties keep pulling back into place. It takes some teamwork but we get it. After a few thrusts she’s nicely lubricated. And we fuck, while she keeps looking for travel books.

I can’t do much with my butt on the chair. “I can do the work.” I watch as her stormy ass rides my cock, settling onto it, lifting back up, sliding wetly down my shaft. All I can do is roll the chair forwards every now and then as it drifts back. River declines my suggestion to put her feet up on the desk. She’s talking about the books she’s looking at, but the only thing I hear is “I’m going to buy all these books.” Is she serious? Or is she delirious? Like me.

“I don’t think we’re going to finish like this.” She lifts her ass and I fall out, then run my fingers up and down my cock, slick with her juices. We stand and have a nice hug, her hands on my back, me gripping her ass and pulling her towards me, my cock falling against her skirt. “Now I get the impression that you don’t want to wait until afternoon.” “I could go either way.” If we wait we can probably take longer and have a nice screw. But this is the year of sieze the moment. I push River toward the bed. She strips off her shirt and skirt. Her panties stay on. Like we were talking about this morning. That’s hot.

She gets in position for hello kitty. Slips her panties to mid-thigh. My cock springs back up but it won’t go in. How did she get so dry when just a few minutes ago we were having a nice juicy fuck? “Do we need lube?” “I don’t think so.” In a few pumps she juices back up and we’re fucking again. “Your waist looks impossibly narrow from back here.” I bang against her as we fuck, and she moans like she always has when we do that. She looks between her legs, sees my balls, fuzzy and aching to fill her with come. Her feet reach for them. “I’m trying to tickle your balls.” “You’re going to make me come.” Her pussy grinds around the head of my cock a few more times and I’m coming. River slides down as far as she can while my load spurts into her. And we afterfuck, until it's time to pull the plug.

“Once again I get to have a nice orgasm, and you get to drip all day.” “I might have one later.” “I’d like to be there for that.”

Downstairs we find a guy working on our remodel. He’s gotten a lot of work done today. Has he been there the whole time? We don’t know.

Friday, May 27, 2011

I’ve been having a really fucked up week

I’ve been having a really fucked up week. River wants to know how she can help me feel better. I’m not sure I’m ready for her to give me ideas. But food and a back rub would be welcome. “That works for me.”

She changes clothes. I unhook her bra through her shirt and she pulls it out her sleeve. I feel her from behind in the kitchen. Her firm nipples sitting on her compact tits. “Am I giving you ideas?” “Just two.”

I wait for her in bed. She comes in. Strips. Sits on me. Oils me with the cotton candy. I sigh as she gets creative on my back and ass. I’m wishing she’d stick something in it. “You’re really on tonight.” I don’t want it to end. Well, maybe. “Are you going to fuck me?” “If you like.” I don’t even have to answer.

She’s got a mystic move that’s supposed to give me sexual energy. “Let’s see if it works.” She rolls me over. It hasn’t worked yet. But it’s a nice thought. She strokes my cock. Now I feel sexual energy. Sits where I can feel her tits. How she gets so much sexual energy into those things I’ll never know.

“We forgot to wash hoo this morning.” I usually wash it for her during our morning shower. I remember forgetting. A fucked up week. “Is that a hint?” I’ve told her if she ever wants to wake me from a coma she can just put her pussy in my face and let me smell it. She straddles my face. I press into her mufff. Mmmm. My tongue reaches out for her. “That’s not smelling me. That’s washing me.” I feel like a mama cat. With an erection. She slips onto it. And fucks me.

She does single point. It’s my favorite, but getting it every time is like always getting a huge slice of nice tart cherry pie for dessert. With chocolate and real whipped cream. This time I fuck her back. Put my hands under her ass, lift her, drop her back onto my cock. Until we tire and she rolls us over.

She wraps her legs around me. We fuck fast and hard and deep, my hands on her head and shoulder pulling her against me. I feel pre-orgasm come starting to flow already. Slow down and pull all the way out each time then plunge back in and push to her cervix. “You’ve got good aim tonight my dear.” Don’t I always?

My orgasm is close. I push in deep and don’t move. I don’t have to. I’m over the edge. I wait. River waits with me. And my cock jumps inside her as my body releases and my jizz spurts into her, one, two, three, ...

“That was a really nice back rub. I was taking notes.” “And doing it was nice, too.”

We’re glad we found a smell that turns her on. “Next time we’re at the shop I’ll check the P section. For pussy. Or would it be under V?” “Maybe C.” Or R. For River’s pussy.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Morning quickie

We were planning on doing it on Thursday. So we also planned on doing it yesterday, which would be almost enough for me but not too much for River. But something lit off my mercurial streak in a bad way. And we didn’t have the emotional warm-up day I was expecting. At least we did go for a nice long walk together. But in the evening my gaze doesn’t linger on naked River and we both know I’m still not in the mood. It happens.

In the morning I wake River up at the usual time. I’ve always been her alarm clock. We lie in bed together, our legs touching, and I get nicely hard. Just one of those things that happens in the morning. I join River in the shower. She washes me. “That’s got some hardness.” “Didn’t you notice when I got in?” It would be somewhat like her not to notice. “Yeah, but that’s not unusual.” We have a nice full-contact smooch in the warm water before we get out. River looks down at my cock which is unfortunately not hard. “Are you checking?” “Yes.” “Do you want it?” “Not here.” I wouldn’t expect. One of the kids has wandered in and out already.

In the bedroom. River’s not getting dressed. Does she really have something in mind? She checks the clock. Decides we have enough time. Stands in front of me. I look her up and down as I stroke my cock. Hoping the morning erection will return. If only I could be so lucky. She gets on the bed and backs up to the edge. I stand behind her. She hasn’t even closed the bedroom door. I guess we don’t expect anybody to come wandering in. My somewhat spongy cock won’t go into her squeaky-clean pussy. I lick her from behind. My cock stiffens. She’s lubricated. “Two birds with one stone.” “Very efficient.” Now it goes in easily. And we fuck. Me banging. River moaning.

“You don’t have to restrain yourself. Quicker is better today.” I can do that. I fuck to come, hard and fast, then slow, pulling back as my orgasm builds, starting to come just inside, my cock pulsing and filling her with jizz, then pushing through it. “That was quick.” I wouldn’t want to disappoint her.

“Do you get anything out of that?” “Some nice stimulation in the morning.”

Saturday, May 21, 2011

Worth waiting for

I must feel like River. It’s the end of the day. I’m a bit knackered from doing end-of-the-day chores. I hear River starting a bath for herself upstairs. Usually that’s a good sign. A prelude to a fuck. A chance for me to sit with her in the bathroom and admire the scenery. But today it’s shutting the door on the slender hope that I could get River to help finish the laundry, and finally corner her in the laundry room. And I doubt I’ll even have a chance to visit her in the tub. Too much to do first. I could follow my own advice and make time, put things off until tomorrow, but I don’t want to.

(Skip this crap and take me right to the good part.)

We’ve had a nice day today. River is all kinds of cute in the shower this morning. I can’t take me eyes off her. Girls should not be allowed to be that cute. She says I’m biased. But like I’ve said before, I’m not biased. I don’t have to be.

We re-waxed her last night. She says the landing strip has been fun but it’s a little silly having a mohawk between her legs, so this time we leave more of a wedge. Even though we both like silly. I’m not sure I’ll like her new look. Too middle-of-the-road. But it’s what she wanted. I’ll have to see what it’s like when it’s grown back in. I might like it. Regardless, I’ve got some ideas for next time. If she’ll let me be her stylist.

We didn’t fuck last night. It just seemed right to fall asleep together after she bared herself for me and tried to relax while I ripped her newly-grown pubic hairs out. It was sweet.

We didn’t fuck this morning, either. I snuggled on her before 5, and when I realized she was dreaming I tried to have some influence. I brushed a finger on the soft hairs of her snatch, then worked it into her, taking my time, noticing all the textures. This time it reminded me of the inside of my mouth, but rougher and wilder. I worked my finger in and out while she slept, and she squeezed back a few times.

I was hoping to get hard and fuck, but it didn’t happen. My cock got plenty leaky, but it apparently wasn’t in a mood to get hard, even though I was. Strange that my cock only seems to leak when River is nearby. How does it know? Some latent sense of smell? Or is it purely mental? Sometimes it feels like I’ve got a divining rod down there.

“I was playing with your parts this morning. Did you have any dreams?” “No. Oh. Yeah. Not a good one. We were somewhere and I was trying to do things, but you had your hand in my skirt or something and I kept wondering why is this thing in me?” Not such a great dream. Oh well.

River’s got this idea that we’ve been doing it every other day. Even though we haven’t, it’s how she feels about things that matter. We talk about why she thinks that. After some explanation I agree she could easily think that. The last two times have been twice in a day. And there was the day that she thought about it all day, then we didn’t do it.

In some ways I’ll take quantity over quality. But the quality has to be there or it’s worse than pointless. River does “maintenance fucks” for me sometimes. I guess I do “maintenance time off”. Like last night after waxing.

“I’d like to have sex with you this evening.” It’s funny. We hardly ever use the term “have sex”, so when one of us uses it like that it always seems fairly raunchy to me. I don’t just want to fuck. I want to have sex. “Of course you would.” That sounds less than enthusiastic. Kind of resigned. “Do you know why I’d like to have sex with you?” She reels off a really nice list. I’m not sure I can transcribe it accurately enough. “Because you love me, and you’re attracted to me, and you like to be intimate, and it makes you feel good.” I’m glad she knows all that. I’m not sure I could come up with the list for her. “I should have said, I’d like to have an intimate and bonding experience with you tonight.”

But why wait. There’s an opportunity in the afternoon. “Would you like to have an intimate and bonding experience with me?” “I would this evening. But I’ve got all this studying I’m trying to get out of the way so I can make art. Thanks for asking though.” “I understand. I was just thinking of what we’ve said about waiting.” Soon afterwards she has to pick up Brook at a birthday party. A half hour errand turns into an hour and a half. “We could have done a little something before you went to pick her up.” “Yeah.” A friendly yeah. Not a resigned yeah. I like that. “Or I could have picked her up.” Sometimes I hate being in line behind the random elements in the day. But sometimes the random elements work in my favor.

Later we’re in the kitchen. River grabs me and we dance. Holding each other close. I get my usual reaction. She rubs my cock through my jeans. “I feel manly. You should do that more often.” “Ok.” “I want to rip your clothes off and do you right here.” “We’ve only got about six minutes.” “That’s enough.” But not with the kids in the living room.

So it’s the end of the day. I’m wishing we’d been able to take one of those earlier opportunities because now I’m not feeling so interested. Like River. I join her just as she’s getting out of the bath. She picks up on my waning enthusiasm.

Nothing is happening in bed. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.” “Me either.” She snuggles on my back. She’s warm. “Would you like a hint?” “Something to do with this?” She reaches around for my cock. I love it when she does me from behind. “You’re just as good with your left hand.” I roll onto my back and she lubes me with the cotton-candy scented oil. Still left-handed. “Too bad this stuff doesn’t taste like cotton candy.” “That’s funny. I was just thinking we should do some 69 again.” Even though getting and giving at the same time seems to end up with the whole thing being sub-average. “And have our noses in each other’s anuses?” “My nose goes in your twat. Your nose would only be near my anus if you could get the whole thing in your mouth.”

She slides onto me, embedding my cock inside her. I oil her tits and rub them with my fingers and palms while she fucks me. As usual I hold still while she single-points me, the sleeve of her cunt working up and down on my cock.

“I’m kind of in a mood for hello kitty.” “Turn around and we’ll get there.” River turns around, sits between my spread legs, me still on my back, and keeps fucking me. I sit behind her for hello kitty, let her keep fucking me, reach around for her oily tits. “I always wish you could see what you look like from back here.”

It’s my turn to do some work. Low doggy. It seems like I’m getting a lot of travel, it just goes in and in and in. I pull her against me and hold it in deep. “I feel like I’m being plunged.” “I feel like you’re being fucked.” Fuck with just the head and we’re both moaning. I could see myself passing out if this went on too long. “Do you have anything in you?” “I don’t know.” So we just fuck for a while, me fucking her, her sitting up and fucking me, both of us fucking each other.

“I might have something.” “I could use a bit of a break.” She rolls over and does her clit. My cock still inside. I oil her small tits some more and have a good time with them. Then she stops. “I’m not sure.” I put my thumb on her clit. We used to fuck like that a lot. Not so much lately though. I rub circles on her clit, liking how the shaft feels under my thumb in its soft hood. She’s got it warmed up for me. “That feels good.” “Good is good.” I barely fuck her. Concentrate on her clit. “You even get a handjob.” Preferred over cunnilingus. “I might have something.” Nice.

“You can take over any time you want.” She lets me go for a while. It sounds like it feels good. I’m enjoying it. Then she’s back on it. “I might have worse ED than you do.” But we’re patient. My cock head is somewhere around her g-spot. She gyrates her pussy on it. For a long time. Taking me to the edge of the edge. My hands press down on her tits. Her breathing gets heavy. “Here it comes.” Time to fuck.

And we do. Her hips buck as she comes, trying to set the pace, I match it and we have a fuck frenzy through her crazy long orgasm. I’d like to come near the end but she’s probably just halfway through when I feel my own orgasm hit me and I’m pushing in even harder and she’s still fucking furiously and my glans goes supersensitive and suddenly there’s all kinds of cervix in there and she’s still fucking like a maniac and I think it feels so good it hurts and I can barely stifle my screams into loud groans as I come ridiculously hard and I wonder what the kids are thinking is going on. Then all I can do is laugh. “That’s not fair.” That she can fuck so hard while she’s coming.

We keep fucking while we come back down to earth, my cock coasting in and out of her come-drenched pussy. A long afterfuck. The washcloth is still on the radiator from our cunnilingus date. I offer it to her, then pull out. In a few minutes I’m running my hands over her body and I feel my cock wanting to get hard again. “Wow. Even in your prime it would take about twenty minutes.” Except for the times when I just wouldn’t bother to even pull out. I toy with the idea of trying to get another erection. But I really don’t think I want to come again so soon after that. Even if I could.

“That was worth waiting for.” “Yes it was.”

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Cunnilingus date

We have the cunnilingus date that didn’t happen last night. I’m looking forward to it. Light the candles, shave for the second night in a row, put on our favorite music to fuck to, pull the bedroom shades to make a comfort zone for River, bring in a washcloth to keep her from getting too wet down there. One of the reasons she’s given for not liking cunnilingus so much.

I butter River up. Literally. A quick body butter slather. I’m impatient to dive her muff. She says she’ll be on board. Sometimes she is, sometimes she isn’t. Only one way to find out.

“Hi girlfriend.” Put my pillow on the floor beside the bed to kneel on. Pull River over to the edge. There’s a radiator right behind me. Not much room for my feet. But maybe River can rest her feet on it. She tries it, then puts them on my shoulders.

There’s her pussy. Her lips. Luscious. Dark. Thick. I part them with my tongue. Circle her opening. Find her tangy taste. Find her clit. My tongue rubs her hood over it. “That’s the right spot.” I love having my face in her pussy. My finger inside for her g-spot. My other hand pulling us together. But I’m not getting any more feedback, other than an occasional moan or shift in position. Or flinch when I hit something too sensitive. I can’t see her face when I gaze up her body. I stop a few times to use the washcloth on her. “You’re getting me warmed up.” I’ve lost track of time. “That’s probably about all you can stand.”

Before I finish I move back to her pussy opening. Lapping up her tangy taste. Putting my mouth on her and pushing my tongue in as far as I can. Fucking her with it, pulling back then pushing it into her. And feeling myself get hard. And harder. It usually takes some manual stimulation lately, but tonight I'm hard for her taste. And the tongue-fuck. It feels nice getting hard for that.

When I stand up she’s surprised. “Your taste got me hard.” “That’s amazing.” I slip right into her with no hands and we fuck. There’s something about being barely on the edge of the bed. Focused. Clinging to River for stability. Just enough room to fuck. Then I realize I can put my feet on the radiator. And it’s even better. My erection is strong. Her pussy is full of my spit. We fuck hard. Desperately. Pulling down on her shoulder like I’m trying to break her.

“Poor clitoris. Not getting any more attention.” “Clitoris is ok.”

I sit up. River arches onto me and fucks me from the bottom. It feels impossibly nice being fucked like this. “I could just let you make me come.” “Ok.” River fucks me harder. I’m not even moving. Just letting her push her pussy onto me. Fuck me with her cunt. This won’t take long. The build-up is just right. Not too fast. Not too slow. The warm prickly feeling intensifies. Spreads its tendrils. I feel brittle. Solid. Ticklish. Candy-coated. I don’t move. Just watch River pump onto me, feel the sensations twine through me, down my legs, across my abdomen, into my arms, I’m about to scream and suddenly I’m coming, and I am screaming, the threads thickening and searing through my body like a slow electric shock, then being pulled out, I can’t hold myself up, I fall onto River, helpless, everything comes together and annihilates, there’s nothing left but us, our bodies, my cock, her pussy. Our fuck.

When I recover we keep going. The afterfuck. It’s still good. I’m still hard. She’s even wetter. She squeezes but I’m too hard for her to squirt out. Too bad. I never want to stop.

“I wonder how many other people have used that radiator?” “Probably none.” Our house is 99 years old. Surely in 99 years that radiator has been part of somebody’s escapade. But it’s not like it says “Reed was here” on it. Maybe I should start writing that in various places. I can just see it. “Everywhere I go in this house it says ’Reed was here.’ And River was always with him.”

My Dear Correspondent

My Dear Correspondent,

At first I thought I had nothing to write today. Last night was simply ghastly. The day was fine. It seems that spring has finally come after weeks of drenching rain, bringing clear skies and blossom-scented air. River and I had gone for a short walk through the warming countryside, our conversation naturally turning to our times together, and we made plans for the evening involving the conjunction of my mouth and her clitoris. She seems to be warming up to that particular pastime. I may guess why, but in this case the reasons are of small consequence, so long as the effect is agreeable. I sent her off with instructions to visualize her enjoyment, with my tongue commanding her ecstasy and providing her with many peaks of pleasure.

But did I not say the past night was ghastly? Yes, ghastly. Not the meeting of our disparate lips, fortunately. No, sadly that never commenced. Rather, I was incapacitated with, shall I say, bloat. It was as if I’d put on some large number of pounds around the middle. Being intimate in that condition was beyond imagining, despite my imagination being, as you know, quite good in that regard. The timing could not possibly have been more calamitous, given the rarity of occasions on which River consents to the indulgence my oral urges. Seldom have I found food and the commensurate eating to be particularly enjoyable, and now I must say that food and I have no fondness for each other. Horrid stuff.

But that’s not at all what I had in mind to tell you when I sat down today. My thoughts were rather of the next morning. This morning, that is. Another day of sunrises, and of birds calling, and of opportunities, variously created by us, thrust upon us, or simply waiting to be found by us. I’d woken to find my affliction had fortunately departed during the night, and I was feeling amorous. How could I not, upon wakening with the love of my life in the very bed with me? I drew her to me, and felt my manhood stirring at the touch of her warm, feminine skin against mine.

I hope you’ll excuse me for not resisting. In a rush of lust I pulled away our covers, revealing the veracity of my arousal, juxtaposed with the many soft, evocatively rounded aspects of River's body. My searching fingers found the wetness enfolded within her dark labia and I pushed my swollen member into her, feeling her return my advance and wriggle delightfully as she took me fully into her sweet honey pot.

River was non-stop wet this morning. We didn’t really have a whole lot of time, but when she rolled onto her back—her seal of approval—and smiled at me, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop. I just wanted to lift her ass off the bed and bang her every way I could. Legs on my shoulders, legs wrapped around me, deep missionary.

“I don’t want to finish. I want to save it for tonight.” “Ok.”

I slip out. Maybe it’s a sign that we should put it away until this evening. Or this afternoon. Whichever comes first. We both look down. My stiff cock hovers over her bush. Her aptly named landing strip. She lifts and arches. Tries to impale herself on me. I can’t refuse her. I hold my cock, let her slide her pussy onto it and fuck me from the bottom, and we’re back to it, my cock slamming her cervix, my ass sticking out into the cool morning air of the bedroom, her heels begging me to go deeper.

What happens when you take the book that I’m a few pages into (“The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society”, written in the form of letters circa WWII, not sure whether I’ll finish it), mix in vague memories of some Victorian-era smut I had access to in my youth (The Pearl), and slam it down on top of a nice good-morning warm-up fuck? I didn’t know either.

Next I’ll be doing Ayn Rand. “I know you know I know you want to fuck me.” “I know.”

Saturday, May 14, 2011

River's tale

Since we didn’t finish in the shower this morning, I know what’s going to be on Reed’s mind this evening. Sure enough, when I walk into the bedroom he’s sitting on a chair, naked, playing with his cock. “I was just trying to be ready for you and save some time.” I should have known he’d jump on that idea. “But it’s not working as well as it should.” At least he’s put clean sheets back on the bed. I like clean sheets. That reminds me of the laundry in the dryer. It’s the old sheets, and some clothes I need to wear tomorrow. “I need to go down and check the laundry.” I leave Reed to his own devices.

“That looks more rod-like.” I must have been in the basement longer than I thought. On some other day I’d want to get on that. Today I know I’ll be getting on it whether I want to or not. “Is it ok if I turn out the light?” It is. Reed likes the strip show in the light, and I like screwing in the light almost as much as he does (how many fucks does it take to screw in a light bulb?), but the kids aren’t quite asleep yet and having the light off might discourage them from wandering in. And it might discourage anybody from looking in the windows. And maybe it would help me get to sleep before we finish.

“Should we get on the bed?” “I was thinking here on the chair.” I think we’ve tried that. Doesn’t Reed remember? The arms don’t leave room for both of us. “Turn around.” Why didn’t I think of that?

It’s an easy slide down onto Reed’s cock, but this is going to be a strenuous position. It’s not bad at first, with my hands on the arms of the chair and Reed’s hands under my ass helping to lift, but it doesn’t take long before we both burn out. I’m glad Reed appreciates it when I go along with his creative whims.

It’s a silly time standing up and getting over to the bed, with Reed’s cock variously in again and out again. I bend over with my hands on the bed and we fuck like we did in the shower this morning. Maybe he’ll finish what he started.

No, we’re getting on the bed. He’s so eager that he mounts me and we fuck in butt position while my legs are still hanging off the end. “What can we do to help you get more out of this?” he asks sweetly, but not entirely altruistically. “I don’t think it works that way.” I feel him shifting positions back there. I hope he’s got enough room. His fuzzy balls slide up the backs of my legs, chasing his cock as it slides into me. A moan escapes me when he puts his hands on my back and rests his weight on them while he’s driving his cock in. I tend to forget how good it feels to have his cock going deep into my pussy, then hammering me. Fortunately he reminds me every now and then. Maybe a little too often, though.

His hand presses my side and I know what to do. Roll over, swing my leg over him, keeping his cock in my pussy. This is better. We hug our bodies close, he puts his hands on my head, and I move my hands along his sides and wrap my legs around him as we fuck face to face. My favorite.

“What do I get out of this?” he asks. And he answers. “I feel loved. Intimate and bonding.” And he likes a hot fuck.

One of the kids is up. Reed hears it, too, and stops. I’m not sure I want the kids to see us doing this, even though there’s nothing wrong with it, and after all it’s how we made them. Sounds like a long bathroom break, and maybe someone coming down the hall, but eventually whoever it is goes back to bed.

Now it’s Reed’s turn to be fucking with his legs hanging off the bed. I unwrap my legs and spread them wide in flying V, balancing them with no effort, feeling classic as my gaping pussy waits to be plundered. Reed eyes me appreciatively. He does like a hot fuck. And so do I. He pounds me hard, our bodies smacking together so loudly the neighbors can probably hear, I reach back for the wall that isn't there, then he comes, quietly but enthusiastically, with his head back and his muscles tense, his cock pulsing inside me and his jizz filling me. Then he smiles. “I get far too much out of that,” he says. “That’s how an orgasm is supposed to work. Uh oh. I forgot about not making you drip.” “It’s not a big deal.”

Afterwards I’m always wanting to drop right off to sleep, but Reed has this thing about talking in the afterglow. He must get more out of the whole thing than I do. Maybe I'd get more out of it if I could come every time. But it's either too much work, or it takes too long, or I just don't have one in me. So we talk about how often we have sex. Reed always says we don’t do it as much as I think we do. Doing it too often, or even thinking we do it too often, wears me out and I end up not liking it as much. Doing it once or twice a day for a couple days is fine but three days is about my limit and I need a break in between. Reed adds, “I like flurries, too. I don’t like thinking we’re not going to do it today because we did it yesterday. And the thing I didn’t like about the week we did it every day was always doing it in the evening.”

“I feel loved.” “You are loved.” “So are you.”

Conversations and showers

River and I had a nice day yesterday. Took a lunch break together at our usual spot. Today I’m a little sensitive about bothering River for sex. There are times when she’s not bothered, and times when I can be too much. We’ve decided it’s usually better if I err on the side of too much. But not too too much. And how can I know where the line is at any given time unless I cross it?

So I bother a little bit, even though I know River well enough (in part because in some ways she’s a little like me, or how I used to be, about other people’s ideas) to know it’s not going to happen this afternoon. Unless she surprises me, which happens sometimes. My surprising sweetie, I call her. I have to be myself, and she knows that. If I’m retreating too far, I’m not being myself and that’s a bad path to go down. And I know I have to let her be herself, too. I don’t want to ruin her. We’re damn near perfect together.

She’s in bed before ten. Doesn’t have to get up until seven thirty. We had a nice day. She had a productive week. She knows what I’m thinking. But she didn’t get a good sleep last night and I respect her efforts to catch up. Even though she’s told me her mom recommended a nice orgasm as a sleep aid. Her mom was an inspiration to me, in more ways than that.

She snuggles on me. “You never get tired of snuggling. You’ll snuggle every night. We just snuggled this morning. But doing it . . . there’s a line somewhere in between.” For me, holding hands, hug, kiss, snuggle, fuck, there’s no line, it all comes from the same place. If I want to hold hands, or hug, or kiss, or snuggle, and I do want all of those things, I want to fuck, too. We can’t always fuck when we’re hugging and kissing and our parts are responding while we’re out for a walk (well, we could), but here we are in bed. “It’s the line of a girl who doesn’t want to get sick of sex.” She doesn’t get sick of snuggling. So what’s different about sex? “It takes energy and creativity. And time. I drip all day afterwards.” I know she just threw that in to be humorous. It’s one of my things: I get to have a nice orgasm, she gets to drip all day. “For years I’ve used the line ‘I’ll do all the work’. You can leave the creativity to me. We can use condoms or pull out for drippage. Time is a matter of priorities and scheduling.” Our usual situation: her with reasons why not, me trying to find ways to make it work. She can make so many other things work. She’s amazing that way. “I guess there’s only one logical explanation: you get more out of it than I do.” “You get more out of food than I do, but I eat every day.” I may get more out of snuggling than she does, too, but she doesn’t get tired of that. She even initiates. A lot.

That’s enough talk. It’s a nice conversation. It should stay a nice conversation. For me, sometimes talking is as good as doing it, and River knows that. Another way to connect and be intimate. We’ve always talked. If we didn’t, how would we ever know each other? Talking and fucking at the same time, well that’s the ultimate.

In the morning I snuggle on her while she slowly wakes up. Both hands on her hip. My cock barely touching her. It starts to stiffen of its own volition. Ok, I help a little bit. Thinking thoughts. Moving against her. Squeezing my legs together. River never minds me enjoying myself on her like this. Even dry humping in spoons with my cock on her vulva. But now isn’t the time. I mostly keep my erection to myself this morning.

“Good morning.” “Good morning.” She gets up and goes to the shower. I’m still hard. Not as hard as I used to get. But hard enough. By the time I’ve followed her down the hall to the bathroom my erection has flagged a bit but it’s still pretty apparent. Get in the shower with her. As usual. And it’s not unusual for me to join her semi-erect. Before the ED set in, it wouldn’t take much to get me fully erect in the shower with River. I could even jack off in the anti-slippery of the water. This time I’ve got a bit more in mind.

River watches while I stroke my cock, pulling outwards from the base, my thumb on top. Still just about ninety degrees of erection. “If you’ve got one, you might as well play with it.” “I think that’s a quote.” “From where?” “Something I said.”

Can I wash my hair with one hand? I picture myself squeezing the shampoo right onto my head while I jack off with the other hand. I think of asking River to help while my hands are busy. But I let go while I quickly wash and rinse my hair.

When I’m finished I haven’t lost that much ground. I jack some more while I watch River wash herself. I’ve said it all before. Trim body. Compact tits. Silly mohawk of a bush. Perfect ass. Cute face. Happy face. She must not have slept too badly. I jack faster, just the head. The continuous stimulation works better. “Water is the opposite of slippery.” “What can we do about that?” She said “we”. Soap is right out. I discovered at a young age that it can make my slit burn for hours afterwards. And she wouldn’t want it inside her, either. “The silicone stuff doesn’t seem to wash off.” But it makes me feel like an industrial appliance. “Oil maybe.” We’ve even talked about leaving some in the shower. But all the lube is in the bedroom. There used to be astroglide in the bathroom cabinet but it wasn’t there last time I needed it. And it washes off.

“Maybe some of my natural lubrication.” She leans forward and I reach under her ass, feel her flaps, feel her lips spread apart, feel the wet opening of her pussy, fit my cock to it, push. But water is the opposite of slippery, and my cock isn’t the opposite of hard but it’s a bit spongy. River bends over further, puts a hand on the front wall, reaches underneath for my cock, does whatever it is she does to help, and with a bit of effort we get it in halfway. Enough to get harder. Enough to spread her juice around. Enough to fuck.

“Nice sounds.” Glorious wet sploshy sounds with every thrust, the water streaming down her back, accumulating in her crack, and being forcefully ejected onto her ass as I bang into her. “Can you feel the splash?” “Yes.”

This is just what I needed. A morning shower fuck with River. As always the view from behind is breathtaking. I worry that the water will wash her juice away, especially with so much right where the action is, but there’s no sign of that. I pull out to her lips, feel the warm water flow over my cock, feel myself push back in through her improbable spot. As always, I don’t want to stop. “How long can you stay like that?” “Not too long.” “We don’t have to finish.” Even though I could. I feel an orgasm not too far off. If I let it. “You won’t have to drip all day.” “There are always panty liners.” A few more easy thrusts, a few more happy thoughts, then I reach around for River’s tits and stand her up against me.

Just before I pull out, the bathroom door opens. It’s Brook. The offspring most likely to walk in on us. Although we usually have more warning. She’s in for her morning pee. Probably doesn’t notice anything through the mostly clear plastic shower curtain. Just mom and dad showering, as usual. But I pull out and hide my erection behind River. “Good timing.” I wonder what it’s going to be like for clothing-agnostic Brook when she realizes that not everybody walks around their house naked occasionally, and moms and dads don’t always shower together, or even like each other as much as River and I do. I hope we’re being positive role models. Hope she doesn’t look back on things one day and think OMFG. But River and I have a great relationship. How could we not be good role models?

I join River in our rooom after we’re dry. “I could have come. But I wanted to save it for a more meaningful time.” “That’s sweet.” I wonder if that’s a clue about how River feels about sex? She’d rather save it for the more meaningful times? I’ll have to ask.

Then I feel the characteristic tickle at the opening of my urethra. When I reach into my pants the tip of my cock is slippery. “I’m the one who’s going to be dripping all day.”

Thursday, May 12, 2011

“Should I just jump you right away?” “Yes.”

“I would do it with you tonight.” My old line. “Yeah.” What’s River thinking? Of course you’d do it with me tonight. You’d do it with me any time. “I’d do it with you, too.” I’m in a good mood the rest of the day.

I’m in bed first. Hoping it hasn’t gotten too late for River. She comes in. Throws the comforter off the bed. We talk for a while. I’m wondering if this is one of those times when she’s signed up for it and wishes she hadn’t. She knows I know she might feel differently by the end of the day. One of the reasons for my “seize the moment” propensity. And there’s always “How about tomorrow morning?”

“Are you waiting for me to make a move?” “No, I’m just waiting for things to settle a bit. Should I just jump you right away?” “Yes.” I’m almost a parody of myself as I straddle her, kiss, feel her compact tits, brush my hands down her body, stroke my cock, tell her how nice she is to look at, and anticipate what we're about to do. “I was thinking of being ready to go when you came in.” “That would be some nice variety. And it would save time.” She looks down at my now hard cock. “Well hello.” I squeeze to straighten it up even more. “I like it when it says hello back.”

If I play out my parody I would spread her legs by slipping mine between them one at a time, then either plunge right in or rub her clit with my cock first. But variety wins. “Something from behind. Low doggy stick-in.” River gets on all fours, then drops until her butt is just above her feet. I probe for her wetness and stick my cock into her and we fuck.

“What are you doing?” “Watching you in the window.” That’s a surprise. I’ve left the reading light on, and the window beside our bed is a mirror with the darkness behind it. The neighbors across the street would have a nice view if they looked out their window. But they never do. I think. I go through some of the stupid porn poses intended not to block the camera angles. Left hand on her right ass cheek. Right hand behind my back. Then a few of my favorites. Hands behind my head. Hands on her legs. And finally just grabbing her hips and pulling her against me in counterpoint to some vigorous thrusting. She likes that one. So do I.

“You feel big again tonight.” It must be the position. But I take some time starting with a shallow fuck and going deeper and deeper on each thrust until I’m banging her all the way in and she’s moaning and making me want to come. “A quick one tonight?” “Sounds good.” I hold still and move her forwards and backwards on my cock. “Are you going to watch me come?” “I think I’ll just grab your butt.” A fast fuck with my balls resting on her feet until I come, long moans, head back, River reaching behind to grab my ass and pull me in but it’s out of reach. It was a good show, too bad she missed it.

“That was a strange one.” “How so?” “It was like a long wind up, then there’s supposed to be the first big squeeze of the orgasm, but it’s like it never really happened.” That’s how it goes sometimes. “Sounds like some of mine, when I have them too fast.”

Afterwards I give her the back rub I’ve been wanting to give her for a few days. Usually I’d do it before, but afterwards is some nice variety. I love rubbing her back. And her butt. And anything else. Love the surface anatomy. And the underlying musculature. “Thanks for letting me do this. Not just anyone would let me do this.” “I don’t know about that.” “Then not just anyone would enjoy it as much as you.” “I don’t know about that, either.” “Then not just anyone would let me sit on them naked.”

The next day I have to ask. “So how did I look in the window? Good, or stupid?” She’s choosing words. Or more likely, those aren’t even the terms she was thinking in. “Sorry. That’s a guy question.” “It’s a human question. You looked good. But mostly I was watching your mm-mm-mm motion.” She thrusts her hips. “There are several motions. I can demonstrate.” She watches. “Not now. At some more appropriate time.” Maybe tonight. A plan forms. We re-wax her landing strip. Then we fuck.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Rainy afternoon in the car

“So, the back of the car?” We’re walking out of a shop we’ve been erranding in. “Yeah.” What? She must not have heard me right. “Oh, I thought you said back to the car. It’s a nice day. But I don’t think this parking lot is the place.” I agree. Even though it’s a bit obscure. And what does she mean by nice day? The same thing I mean, I think. Not the weather. But even the rain is nice.

We had a bit of a disagreement last night. About people who are inconsiderate, irresponsible, disrespectful, and stupid. They bother me too deeply sometimes. I got over it before I went to sleep. It was still lingering with River a bit this morning. We talk. We’re both better. The topic of sex comes up. “It seems like we have to do it before these things are entirely over with.” I see it differently. “To me, it’s like doing it is the sign that it’s over.”

So it’s a nice day. Good emotions. Working together. River looking hot in her new leggings. Even the rain is nice. River likes the sound of rain falling on the roof of the car. Not too many people out walking in it. One of those times when things are coming together. A moment to seize. And River knows how much moments mean to me.

We come out of the shop from our next errand. “So how much time is left on the meter?” She peers out the windshield to check until she realizes why I’m asking. I’m just being amusing. I hope. But how can she know when I’m serious? This is not a very sexy spot. Too many smoking losers walking by. Not the kind of potential audience we want.

As we drive away I can tell she’s actually trying to think of a place to park. We run through a few ideas. “Maybe across from the train station.” Where we didn’t do it last time. But as we drive past, it doesn’t seem so great. And there are too many people walking here for some reason.

“Let’s try the park.” There’s just one car in the small lot when we get there. The driver is heading into the restroom. River picks a spot at the end. A bit conspicuous, but a few spots away from the other car.

Gray rain washes from the sky.

We climb into the rear seat. “Now what?” “Well I can just do this.” River faces forward in the middle of the back seat. The black leggings come down. I see her stripey panties inside. She raises her legs to expose her fuzzy snatch between the backs of her thighs. Just the right height to fuck with me kneeling in front of her. I slide my pants down. Finger my cock. Move my fingers over her lips, slip between them into her wetness.

“Wouldn’t it be something if you were more nervous about this than I am? I’m not nervous at all.” “I’m just worried about getting hard.” “Don’t. Take your time.” “It must be nice not to have to worry about that.” “It is.” I didn’t used to have to worry about that. I should get hard just thinking about fucking River in the back of the car in a rainy park. But that’s not how it works anymore.

The driver of the other car returns. She gets in. And stays. No big deal. River’s car has seriously tinted windows. Not usually a good thing. But helpful today.

River rests her feet on the ceiling. That would be an interesting sight if anybody can see in. “How are you doing?” I feel like I’m interviewing her. “This is pretty comfortable. And the view is nice.” “I’m getting there.” Taking my time was a good idea. I watch River’s deliciously thick lips follow my thumb around as I do circles on her clit. River watches me get hard. When I seem to be ready I get in place and try the stick-in. But her leggings are somewhere around knee level, holding her legs together, and I’m trying to get a not-so-stiff cock into a tight target. It takes a few tries but we squeeze together until it straightens up and goes in. And we’re fucking in the car on a rainy afternoon at the park. It seems surprisingly normal. Fucking is just something we do. Doesn’t everybody?

“Am I at a good height?” “Just right.” My cock is sliding in and out easily now. Her feet are still braced on the ceiling. She’s really wet. This is fun. This could become a habit. River almost doesn’t look like she’s fucking. “Is this doing anything for you?” “Yeah. My pussy is filled with hard cock. That’s something.” I grab her legs and pull. Fill her all the way. Hit her harder. Wonder if the car is rocking. Now she looks like she’s fucking. And sounds like she’s fucking. That makes me want to come. But not yet.

“I’ve never done it in a car before.” She told me she hasn’t either. But now she’s not saying anything. Has some old memory been jogged loose? I hope not. I like doing something neither of us has done before. The last thing I want to hear is her saying “yeah”. “Neither have I.” That was the right thing.

Another car pulls into the lot. River can’t see it, but I watch as it parks beside the first car. No one gets out.

I’m amazed at her wetness. And it feels like my cock has been leaking, making a contribution—I could easily come at any time—but I think it’s all her. “I wonder what I’ll do when I come. Usually we wipe up with my shirt.” I’m about to find out. I guess I can survive without a shirt. In a few more thrusts I push in and come. Not the most spectacular orgasm, but a happy orgasm. I fold her up and we kiss.

We look around the car for something to clean her up with, but there’s nothing. I leave my cock in while I pull my shirt over my head, then pull out and wipe her pussy, front to back, my finger pushing in as far as I’m comfortable before I move aside for River’s more aggressive efforts. We’ve just done our first car fuck. And we liked it.

That evening. Before dinner. “You probably don’t want to hear this. But I could totally make a habit of that.” She smiles. “It wasn’t bad. It was like a camping fuck.” Urban car camping.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

A wet, wet morning

River was willing last night, but just barely. She wasn’t feeling so well. So we plan for this morning. As usual I’m awake much earlier than she is and rest in bed with River while she dreams. I think about doing her in her dream but I’m not sure I can get hard enough quickly enough. And I’m not sure she’s feeling up to it.

She wakes up and reminds me of our plan. Not that I needed to be reminded. We have a face to face snuggle, feeling each other’s backs, feeling her butt, my fingers dipping into her fluff of pubic hair. I’m stiffening. When I reach down to stroke my cock River quickly takes over, jacking me off left-handed while I just close my eyes and feel myself get harder. She straddles me, puts my cock in place, and sinks onto it in one go.

She’s really wet. Not the typical post-period goo. Wet wet. She notices the smacky sounds she’s making on me. “How did you get so wet?” “I don’t know.” “Did you have a nice dream?” “Not that I remember.”

She fucks me in single point. Her rhythm is comforting. And erotic. It commands attention. Slow descent. Hold. Her upstroke is legendary.

But it’s not long before she rolls us over. “You’re such a tease.” “Yes, I am.” But I’m happy to service her the way she likes it. I continue her slow speed, pulling my cock completely out of her pussy, then back in deep. No worries about things drying out today. She’s wet. I nearly miss, then push until my cock slips back into place and she gasps as it goes in. I speed up, rocking just the tip in and out, angling for g-spot. River puts her hands on the wall to push back and moans. I lift my head and look at her face. She’s smiling. I smile back. After a couple positions and some nice quick friction I stop to hold off. “Poor you. I have to stop just when we’re getting to the good part.” “Yeah, that was really good.”

We end up in jackknife, her legs on my shoulders, me watching the action down there, my cock going in and out of her remarkably wet pussy. We hear the kids waking up. “You should come this time.” I’m going slow, just a few inches deep. I feel it. “I can come like this.” I stay slow and shallow until my orgasm is imminent, then push in deep and hold it without moving until I feel the contractions of my orgasm pumping my jizz into her, feel it flow around my glans and stream along the underside of my cock as it seeks an exit from her confinement.

Friday, May 6, 2011

“I was almost asleep.”

“We can go to that Italian restaurant. Come home and I rub your post-hike butt and whatever else you want. And then we’ll fuck.” “Sounds lovely.” I’m happy the rest of the day thinking about rubbing her butt.

River has a really fine ass. I’ve worn out many adjectives describing it. “Amazing.” “Perfect.” “Trim.” Not particularly descriptive adjectives. To me, it’s the perfect girl ass. What I’m hoping to see when I look at a girl’s butt. Just the right amount of shape. Unmistakably girl. Looking comfortable in a pair of old and somewhat loose jeans. Looking firm with a skirt wrapped around it. Looking edible in a bikini bottom. Looking smooth and supple and inviting as she turns and shucks her clothes, hoping I’m watching. I am.

Our new oil has a scent like cotton candy. I’m pushing her lightly oiled butt cheek around, pressing my fingers into it, squeezing it with my thumb, pushing deep circles in her gluteus minimus between her trochanter and her iliac crest. Her ass reminds me of firm jello. I visualize River's ass molded in jello. Cherry red. On the dining room table. We’ve almost thought of that before. “When are we going to make the plaster cast of your ass?”

I rub her back. My cock nestles aggressively in her butt crack. The increased hardness says it likes it there. I grab her cheeks, push them together, make them brush my cock, up and down. It gets harder, but not hard enough. Press it into her valley with my thumb, dry hump between her cheeks, a touch of oil improving the friction.

When my cock is prepared my thumb guides it into River’s vagina. And we fuck. Nice and easy. Warm sensations of being inside her. Thinking of where it goes. How impossible this seems. Our complementary parts. How we both like it.

I rub her back while we fuck. Indulging myself. Two of my favorite things. My hands outside, palms slipping down the curve of her sacrum, fingertips pushing up beside her spine to her trapezius muscles. My cock inside, anchoring me.

I roll her into spoons, first my hips driving my cock up into her, then barely thrusting while my hand rocks her against me and I fuck myself with her pussy.

Spoons is just a way station tonight. We roll in opposite directions and I’m on top. Face to face. Intimate and bonding. Energetic. Deep. I feel myself start to come. Almost. I keep thrusting into the feeling, slowly, winding up, until the first spasm of orgasm shoots my jizz into her and releases the tension.

“I was almost asleep while you were doing . . . something.” “You know I wouldn’t mind if you fell asleep. I was even wondering if I could.”

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

After a rough patch

“Things are thinning out.” What is River talking about? My hair? I don’t think so. Her bush, which we’re planning on re-waxing soon? Not likely. Finally I put it together. She’s made an oblique reference to something she said a while back. Like I always do. A few nights ago she mentioned being in the thick of things. Period-wise. Now things are thinning out. I get it. “Nice one.”

River has a bath. She cools down in bed. We’re trying to get our mood back together after a rough patch. I think. I hope. I get the idea to do our classic Reed-on-top straddle start. But we need a little more mood repair. Sitting on top of River might actually help. It’s emotionally comfortable for us. I hope. It would help me. So after some thought I swing my leg over and straddle her pelvis. “I’m hot.” I think the joke on that has been replayed too many times. “Yeah.”

She spreads her legs behind me. This is the time for me to reach back and feel her pussy, while she gets me hard. But why follow the script. I just enjoy our bodies being together. Our emotions coming together. Resting my head beside hers. Putting my hands on her tits. Maybe I’ll get hard and we can do it while she’s laying flat with her legs spread. I wish.

I sit between her legs. Ah, clitoris. Her freshly-bathed snatch feels especially clean and her lips have the velvet of a pubescent apricot as my thumb rides her clit. I get hard quickly. A nice stiffie. One I’d be proud to slide all the way in with one push. Not likely with her just out of the bath, and washing away period remnants. I try anyway. Just for effect. My erection resists as I bend it downwards. Does it not know what's in store? Or is it demanding to fuck on its own defiant, skyward-pointing terms? I win this time, my cock yielding until my glans is gently ensconced in the vestibule of River’s pussy. I push into her apricot. Some small penetration. River reaches down with both hands to spread her lips. “Is something in the way?” “No. Do you need some oil?” “Let’s see if I can find anything further in.” I probe slightly further into her clean pussy. By the time I’ve worked in deep she’s nicely lubricated with her sweet frictiony juice. And we fuck.

“Remember you said you could put your feet behind your head?” “When I was younger.” “You don’t look any older.” She tries. “That’s as far as I can go. At least without a warm up.”

It’s a nice satisfying fuck with me on top. River sweating and pushing the comforter off the side of the bed. Me not wanting to stop. My favorite variation this time is missionary with my legs spread and her feet on my ass. River’s favorite seems to be my hands lifting under her knees. I like it, too. It’s our finisher tonight. River’s moans bringing on my orgasm. She pulls me in tight as I come.

In the morning. “I’m glad we did it last night.” “Me too.”