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Couples/sundbrun
Sunday brunch
I awake to the hazy morning light creeping in through a crack in the
curtains. I feel the warmth of your body still pressed close to
mine, in exhausted slumber. Sleeping the sleep of the dead, as it
were, or at least, in our case, freshly killed.... I gently remove
your arm from my waist and pad off to the bathroom. On the way
there, I pick up my satin shift, and slip it on. It feels
deliciously cool in the morning heat. The cloying scent of the
pines outside the window tells me it will be another hot and humid
day. After a bit of freshening up, I recover my watch from a pile of
hastily removed clothing. It's nearly noon. Last night was
delightful, as was this morning, but we didn't get more than 3 hours
sleep at a stretch, in between periods of play. I leave you
sleeping, and quietly make my way downstairs to the kitchen. I knew
this would happen, so I have some treats waiting in the fridge.
I put the coffee maker on and go to work slicing some apple, melon,
and mango. These, plus strawberries and grapes, I place on a plate
with some assorted cheeses - brie, camembert, grueyere. I top this
plate off with small dark and milk chocolates. I unbox the crackers
and spread herbed cream havarti on them. Then I add a smear of
salmon pate to some, plum and rum preserve on others. I slice
grueyere onto some more crackers, topping them with Cabernet
Sauvignon jelly. I arrange the dressed crackers on another plate,
leaving some plain on the side. The jar of jelly, complete with
spoon, gets placed in the middle of the plate. The coffee is now
ready, so I prepare two cups and take them upstairs.
I place the cups on the bedside table, and tear open the curtains,
gasping when I realize the sliding door to the deck has been open all
night. And all morning. If there are any people in the adjacent
condos, I am now too embarassed to meet them.... I look out at the
sparkling lake below. There is a special beach on the other side,
that I am anxious to show you. But that can wait till later.
Turning to your still dozing form, I pull back the single sheet
covering your delicously hairy, naked body. You grunt and roll onto
your side, away from me. A hand half-heartedly gropes ineffectually
for the sheet. I start nibbling on your ear, working my way down
your neck, down your side, to your ticklish spots. With my hand, I
pinch your bare backside gently, teasingly. You begin to stir,
growl, and reach across lazily to grab me, your arm still sluggish
and heavy from sleep. I dodge it easily, as your eyelids finally
open, and I place a coffee in your open hand.
You smile and sit up in bed. "Mmmmmm. Thank-you. I *thought*
something smelled wonderful, though it was slightly different from
your usual musky aroma..." I chuckle and take a sip of my coffee.
Then I put it back on the night table.
"I'll be right back. I have something more." Your relaxed but
puzzled expression follows me as I leave the room, and make my way
down to the kitchen.
When I return, you are looking more awake, though somewhat rumpled.
I suppose I must look about the same. Your eyes light up hungrily
when you spot the plates of food. It's almost the same look you
gave me last night, when I put on that short jungle-print sundress,
and flashed my bare rear-end at you. The same look you wore, when
you later removed that dress, rather roughly, from my body.... I put
the plates on the bed, and we begin to feast. Until that moment, I
didn't realize how ravenous I was.
"Wow. This is wonderful. I'm starved." I am delighted by your
obvious enjoyment, since I love to give pleasure in many ways. You
lick your fingers seductively, and brush your hand over my breast as
you reach for another laden cracker. The grapes and strawberries
are tart, tangy, - a delicious offset to the sweetness of the
preserves and the smooth creaminess of the cheeses. The slices of
apple are crisp, the melon and mango, juicy and quenching.
Finally, our hunger is sated, and we recline back on the bed. You,
with your head on the pillows, me, laying the other way, with my toes
tickling your arm pit. I lick off sticky fingers, put a pillow on
your feet, and reach beside the bed to pull up a book I have
purchased, just for this occasion. It is a collection of erotic
stories. As you sip on your coffee and eye that last cracker, I
begin reading aloud to you. The story has the desired revitalizing
effect. Your cock begins to stir, to stiffen as the words roll
languidly off my tongue. I softly move my free hand to your groin, and
begin drawing circles on and around your balls. I stroke the
lengthening shaft gently, my touch getting more firm as the story
heats up. You move the plates off the bed, and on to the night
table. The story is almost done, but you don't wait for the finish.
You grab my wrist with one hand, extract the book with the other, and
pull me down on top of you. I happily comply.
"You. Are a wicked thing. You think you are going to get more out
of me after last night and this morning?!" Your words are
admonishing, but the look in your eyes says something entirely
different.
I laugh, and mock an Oliver Twist accent, "Please suh, can I have some
mo-ah?"
Your long fingers probe the wetness between my legs.
"Instatiable." It's all the comment you can muster, and you roll
your eyes for added effect. You *must* be tired. Ah well, at least
your body is still fully functional. I look to the open sundeck
door, and I hear the voices of people out in the commons. You see
the look on my face.
"No. If you want it, the door and the curtains stay open." Your
voice is stern. My lust has overcome any inhibitions, so I impudently
agree.
"And you said *I* was the wicked one! Fine. Have it your way."
Besides. It's not like I know anyone here. My face meets yours and
our tongues entwine in a lingering kiss. Our sticky-sweet lips
continue to meld, as I slide myself slowly down on your fully erect
cock. My hard nipples brush your chest through the satin shift.
With one hand, I guide you into me, with the other, I pull your head
to mine, so as not to break the kiss. My fingers are get lost in your
thick, dark hair. As I slide that last bit down to the base of your
shaft, you gasp.
Your head flops back to the pillow as I release you, and sit fully
upright on my knees. I begin a slow, sumptuous ride. Your hands
explore my body through the shift, and then you tire of it, and pull
it up over my head. It lands in a heap beside you. As I rise up on
another stroke, you grab my hips, digging your fingers in, and hold
me there. Bending your knees, you start actively thrusting into me.
Until this point, I had been happily doing all the work. Your
pumping becomes increasingly vigorous. Each deep penetration
extracts a moan from my throat. My back archs, and my own hands now
squeeze my breasts and rub my nipples excitedly.
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I am coordinating
my movements with yours. Your breathing turns ragged. You begin to
grunt. My voice is starting to rise in pitch, I can feel you
swelling, and it feels incredible. Then you stop suddenly. You
throb and pulse inside of me. You hold me tight, and manage to stop
the impending orgasm before fully climaxing. You breathe a sigh of
relief. Still perched atop you, I notice the jar of wine jelly next
to the bed. Your curious eyes follow my hand, as I take the little
jar and scoop out a small dollop of the contents. This, I drop
teasingly onto your nipple. You shiver at the cold, but smile
invitingly. To keep things even, I add a similar dollop to your
other nipple, delighting in the shudder it evokes. Of course, this
means I must lick, and suck it off...
Laying on the bed, your breathing ragged, you try not to move. The
jelly on your nipples jiggles with each strained breath. Some
dislodges and begins to trickle down the side of your chest. You are
trying desperately not to squirm, but it tickles so much. I watch
your discomfort with delight, but I don't let you suffer for too
long. I bend forward and extend my tongue to lick up the sticky
drip. Starting near the bedsheets, practically at your back, I
slowly, oh so slowly, bring my tongue all... the... way..... up your
side. My mouth hovers over your nipple. My breath is making it warm
and the jelly starts to run again. I flick my tongue out to catch
the drip, and then flick it quickly across your hardened nipple. You
groan, and try to jam yourself deeper into me, without moving your
chest. Your pelvis is amazingly flexible. I smile and bare my
teeth.
I can tease you no longer. I wrap my lips around the areola and
start sucking the jelly off gently, then harder, then I am nibbling,
almost biting. You bring your hands up to my head, and move it to the
other nipple. I cannot resist your urgent desire. But I am not done
teasing. I let my tongue circle the nipple, not quite touching it,
tickling the hairs around it, as I slide slowly, very slowly, up and
down on your hard cock. I squeeze tightly on each stroke, stopping
just as I feel the head about to pull out. It feels exquisite! My
hands are on your arms, holding them down, out of the way, as I apply
my ministrations. My own extended nipples are brushing your stomach
softly in the rhythm of my movements. You can't stand it anymore.
You bring your arms up to my head, and press my mouth forcefully, but
gently onto your aching nipple.
"Please suck on it. Now." The urgency in your voice is an aphrodisiac,
and I begin sucking and biting, harder than I did before.
Your head arches back exposing your neck, and I move my biting up
your chest to that inviting flesh. You move your hands to grab my
ass, as I bury my face in your neck, biting, kissing, sucking.....
The slow sensuous fucking has turns harder and harder as we both lose
control, moaning and gasping. Our lips find each others, slippery wet
and sticky. They slide across, melt together, tongues entwining.
You are almost coming, almost, almost... and I stop. I pull my face
away from yours.
Your puzzled expression changes to one of lustful delight, when I
climb off and stand facing the full length mirror on the wall. My
hands are either side of it. I bend over, sticking my rear out,
wriggling it invitingly. You get off the bed, and stalk over to me.
Your hard prick bobbing with each purposeful step. I watch you
approach, in the mirror. Your hands stroke my ass, gently,
teasingly, then more roughly. They settle on that flesh at the top
of my hips. Just enough to sink fingers into and grip with pleasing
firmness. You stroke my wetness, with your hardness. Teasing me. "I
want to feel you inside. Fuck me." I ask, my voice husky with
desire. But you are taking your revenge for my nipple teasing.
Still you stroke me with your cock, my thighs slick, my clit swollen
and aching.
"Put your legs together", your voice is soft but undeniable, and I
comply. You begin sliding in and out between my thighs enjoying this
psuedo-fuck and knowing full well that it is driving me crazy. You
taunt me,
"I could come soooo easily like this.... Perhaps I should."
The thrusts get harder, and I am aching to feel you inside, yet you
insist on continuing the torture. Then in one deft movement, you
grab yourself and slip up inside of me, fast and hard. I gasp! God
it feels incredible! My legs move apart instantly, to let you go
deeper. Your hands reach forward, find my breasts swaying, nipples
hard. You roll them between your fingers, while pressed deep inside,
tight up against me.
"AAaaaahhhh. Oh. Oh. Ohhhhh!" I am being driven over the edge. You
move one hand down to my clit, and press your body closer to mine. I
can feel your breath in my ear. You begin biting it, pulling on it
with your teeth, forcing my head to arch back further.
"Stay like that." Your request is a hoarse whisper, betraying your
weakening self control. With my head arched back, my hair cascades
down to the middle of my back, well below the shoulderblades. You
bury your face in the silkiness. Nuzzling it, plunging slowly but
deeply into me, squeezing my clit between two fingers at the same
time. I reach down a hand to help you, to guide you to the right
spot. With my hand on top of yours I rub myself, and rock against
you, until,
"Ahh! Ah! Ah! Uhhhhhhh.... unnnngggghhhh!" I am shuddering and
coming, my ass squeezing *hard* with each spasm, my knees locked
straight. Even as it subsides, it is too much for you. You rise up
and begin fucking me harder and harder, our bodies mashing into each
other. You are grunting, and I am moaning, my voice rising to a
fever pitch. I don't care any more who hears us it just feels so
damned good!
My head rocks back with each stab of your cock, and my hair ripples
in the breeze from the open window. Our skin prickles with the cool
air licking our sweat. You are groaning like an animal now, and
coming, jaming yourself deep inside, quivering with each throbbing
spurt.
Then you collapse against me, sighing.... sighing, softly. I bend
over further, bearing the full weight of your upper body, and grab a
stray towel off the floor. I place the towel between my legs as you
ease yourself exhaustedly out. You stagger off to the bathroom, and
I flop down on my back on the bed. The satin shift is beside me. I
run my thumb and forefinger over the smooth fabric. It feels
delicious. I pick it up and begin sliding it gently up and down my
body, over my nipples, across my stomach, between my legs.... I don't
notice your return. My eyes are closed, and I have bunched the shift
up between my legs with both hands, hips undulating, rubbing the
slippery fabric against my labia, my clit. Leaning against the door
frame, you watch in silent, amused fascination, not wanting to
interrupt, yet wondering if there is something you could do to assist
me.....
(to be continued???? :-)
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