8 a.m. Thanksgiving
He rolls over to me before the alarm goes off. Before we have to get up and get ready for the cooking and the cleaning and the people. Right now it's just us.
His hand runs over my belly, down to the edge of my pajamas, and his fingers stroke my skin just inside the waistband. I wriggle closer, sliding under the covers. He's already pulled off his t-shirt and shorts. His hard cock nudges my hip as D pulls the tie open and pushes my pants down.
We haven't fucked in the morning in ages and I'm ready. I turn onto my front and push my ass in the air. He pulls my jammies off, leaving my bottom half naked and ready and yielding. The first sigh escapes my lips when he caresses my cheeks, pushing me open without touching my most sensitive skin. The skin that's calling out for his touch.
And touch he does. With his lips, with his tongue, giving me the joy that I've missed for months. I want to just let him love me, but I can't. I'm anxious. I'm horny. And I grind my pussy back into his face, demanding more from him. With a push I'm telling him "make me come, goddammit." And he does.
1 p.m. At the Beach
"I need a massage and then I need to fuck you." With that we walked over to the oceanside palapa, palapa-ed ourselves down and indulged in an hour of coconut oil bliss. As the waves crashed only yards from our heads we sank into the cushions and gave our bodies over to the hands that caressed, pressed, fondled, dug, pushed, pulled and otherwise transformed us from tired and achy to soft and mellow.
A short walk back to our cottage where we were met with restorative fruit drinks. I wanted the juice and the relaxation, but honestly I wanted cock even more. As the thunder cracked and a storm rolled in, I pulled him up the stairs to our bungalow.
"Don't worry about me, I don't need to come," D told me as I pulled the string ties on my top and bottoms. "Good, because I honestly just want to come on you."
On my knees at the edge of the luxurious king-sized bed I took his cock deep into my mouth, stroking his ass and thighs as I did. And then he pushed me onto my hands and knees and sunk into me as I pressed back. Nipples grazing the coverlet, I rocked back onto him, pushing my hips into his. I needed the reach around, and when it came so did I. And then I sank into the plush cloud.
He rolled me over and pulled my legs over his thighs, cradled my back and pulled me to him, kissing my cheeks, neck, and breasts. And then he pulled me onto his cock. Our oil-slickened bodies melted together while he flexed and I squeezed. "Touch me, please," I begged into the crook of his neck. And he did. And I came again, my legs wrapping tightly around his waist as I pushed against him.
10 p.m. In the Grotto
He lit the candles while I ran warm water into the outdoor tub. The little grotto was obscured by bushes, and together with the darkness of evening they provided just enough cover. The moon was high and cast a little light into our hidden cove. The water trickled against the tiles, and even in the warmth of the evening steam rose from the tub.
We lay there together, looking up at the stars, relaxing in the liquid heat. He lazily soaped my back, digging into the muscles just a little bit, loosening a few tight spots here and there. The clear sky began to cloud over and the hot water ran cold.
Back inside he set the lit candle on the ledge above the bed, and its yellow glow cast shadows across the dark room.The rain drummed outside. I softly pushed him to his back and began to stroke his body from shoulders to hips. Kisses trailed down his torso, my lips forming a taut O around his nipple, my tongue teasing the hardened nub. The scent of his body was fresh and heady, thickest in the soft hair on his chest.
And further I went, ready to give all my attention to his cock and balls. Two parts of a whole, soft and hard. Round and rigid. Yielding and firm. With my hand wrapped tightly around his shaft, I nuzzled and nipped and teased his balls, finally lifting one with my tongue and pushing my lips around it. I squeezed and stroked and licked and sucked. I wasn't gentle, but I wasn't rough, either. I wanted him to feel it--to know that my hands and my lips were the source of his pleasure and his only focus. I'm selfish and giving like that.
At his first deep groan I pulled my mouth from him and slid my pussy along his hard shaft. That touch broke the dam on my wetness and my juices slicked over his cock until I was ready to slowly sink onto him. With his teeth on my nipple and his finger on my clit, I ground my hips against his, swiveling and rocking back and forth, squeezing him tightly inside. Until the squeezes were no longer voluntary, and my hips shuddering against his were uncontrollable, and the cries from my lips told anyone listening what he and I alone should know.
*This post was inspired by the 24 hours of delicious sex in the new anthology Morning, Noon and Night: Erotica for Couples, edited by Alison Tyler. I don't have a story in this book, but I loved the concept and volunteered to participate in the blog tour. This is one of the best and most consistent collections I've read in a while. A number of the stories really spoke to me because the sex was really hot and the relationship dynamics were interesting. Lest you think this anthology is full of old, boring married people sex, there are several stories that explore different relationship structures and...involvements...with others beyond the traditional heteronormative sexual coupling. I highly recommend this collection, and I hope you enjoyed my inspired contribution.
This collection is available from all the usual big online booksellers, in both paperback and e-reader versions. But you can also find it at indie booksellers such as Powell's.