questiongrl
yep, it's me
- Joined
- May 9, 2007
- Posts
- 8,640
my first contribution ...
Late eve …
Weeknight. Children in bed. Hubby asleep … early day tomorrow. Sleeping so peacefully … his breathing slow and steady. His face beautiful in the moonlight. Me in silk teddy, lace boyshorts … he bought them both. My favorites. Cannot sleep – feeling an itch. Growing, spreading from my inner core. Body begins to warm. Look at the clock. Need to sleep … need to leave him alone … early day. I’ll have him in the morning, but I need relief tonight. Prop the pillows under my left and right elbows. Snuggle in – warm, cozy, comfortable except for the aching need growing inside me. Hands slip down over the silk … cool breeze through the window … nipples stand on end. I circle one, then the other, give them the attention they require and deserve. Glide my hand down over my stomach. Spread my thighs … tickle them lightly with soft hands. Fingertips leave a trail of goosebumps … trailing down, down, down to where they need to be. Eyes closed, remembering the morning. He awoke – hard. Fully erect through his microfiber fitted boxers. So sexy. My hand … traveling over. Pulling the material aside, finding him with my lips, my warm, wet mouth … the urgency of taking him in … the look on his face … wanting to cum, wanting not to cum. My hand finds the lace … a familiar journey … fingers slide easily below the fabric. Already moist, beginning to throb – just the thought of him. Deft fingers … knowing exactly where to rub … hood, left side, right side … button. Dipping … find the wetness .. slippery … more … more … more. His face. Picturing his face as he moves above me. It was morning last time. He spread my thighs, with a lustful moan flipped his body around and dove in. Lifted my ass to him. Found my mound – his breath tickling ever so gently, my hips thrusting into his face, his tongue working its magic while his fingers explore deeper, deeper, circling, driving me crazy. My fingers now outside, rubbing urgently through the fabric … left hand on my ass. Spreading thighs as far as possible … shaking. Pushing ass into the bed, thrusting into the air, back into the bed. Bucking gently, quietly, reaching for the crest … a little more, a little faster. Enough! Hand back under the lace, now so swollen … ready … a few more strokes … yes, just a few more. To the crest and violently, quickly, quietly over the edge. Turn to moan into the pillow so as not to awaken him. Want him again in the morning.
Late eve …
Weeknight. Children in bed. Hubby asleep … early day tomorrow. Sleeping so peacefully … his breathing slow and steady. His face beautiful in the moonlight. Me in silk teddy, lace boyshorts … he bought them both. My favorites. Cannot sleep – feeling an itch. Growing, spreading from my inner core. Body begins to warm. Look at the clock. Need to sleep … need to leave him alone … early day. I’ll have him in the morning, but I need relief tonight. Prop the pillows under my left and right elbows. Snuggle in – warm, cozy, comfortable except for the aching need growing inside me. Hands slip down over the silk … cool breeze through the window … nipples stand on end. I circle one, then the other, give them the attention they require and deserve. Glide my hand down over my stomach. Spread my thighs … tickle them lightly with soft hands. Fingertips leave a trail of goosebumps … trailing down, down, down to where they need to be. Eyes closed, remembering the morning. He awoke – hard. Fully erect through his microfiber fitted boxers. So sexy. My hand … traveling over. Pulling the material aside, finding him with my lips, my warm, wet mouth … the urgency of taking him in … the look on his face … wanting to cum, wanting not to cum. My hand finds the lace … a familiar journey … fingers slide easily below the fabric. Already moist, beginning to throb – just the thought of him. Deft fingers … knowing exactly where to rub … hood, left side, right side … button. Dipping … find the wetness .. slippery … more … more … more. His face. Picturing his face as he moves above me. It was morning last time. He spread my thighs, with a lustful moan flipped his body around and dove in. Lifted my ass to him. Found my mound – his breath tickling ever so gently, my hips thrusting into his face, his tongue working its magic while his fingers explore deeper, deeper, circling, driving me crazy. My fingers now outside, rubbing urgently through the fabric … left hand on my ass. Spreading thighs as far as possible … shaking. Pushing ass into the bed, thrusting into the air, back into the bed. Bucking gently, quietly, reaching for the crest … a little more, a little faster. Enough! Hand back under the lace, now so swollen … ready … a few more strokes … yes, just a few more. To the crest and violently, quickly, quietly over the edge. Turn to moan into the pillow so as not to awaken him. Want him again in the morning.
