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Warm The Bed

7 January, 2013

I texted her earlier to say I wouldn’t wait up. “Warm the bed,” she said in reply. I lay on her side of the bed to allow my naked body to do just that. My thoughts were of her as I drifted off to sleep.

The door clicks shut, waking me from my dream, my dream about her, about her on top of me, her hands on my chest, her sweet folds caressing my shaft, her heart staring directly into mine through the unbroken gaze of our eyes. I hear her locking the door, taking off her coat, her shoes, and she starts to climb the stairs. My sleeping hand has been stroking my erection, but I stop and bring my hands to the pillow. I turn my back to the bedroom door and feign sleep.

I hear her enter, a few drinks making her footfall heavy despite her attempts at tiptoeing. My cock jumps, twitches in anticipation as I hear her undressing. Blouse, skirt, slip, bra, all removed, dropped carelessly to the floor. The bed slopes gently as she sits at one corner and in her movement I sense the smooth glide of her pullup stockings as she lowers them. She stands again, and I resist the temptation to stroke myself as the last tiny fragments of cotton drop to the floor. I feel the cool breeze of the night air as she lifts the duvet, and she climbs in behind me. I keep my eyes closed but I feel a tiny droplet form at the head of my hardness, my cock desperate for my dream to become reality.

“Are you awake?” she whispers as she contours her body to mine, her full breasts against my back, our hips and legs perfectly complimenting each other. She runs a hand along my side, onto my chest where she plays among my soft hairs, teases at my nipple. Her hand dashes quickly downwards, finds my straining cock awaiting her. She circles a single finger around the head, along the shaft, tracing an engorged vein, before taking me in her hand, holding me, her fingers clenching as she gives me one massaging squeeze.

I feel her dark hair fall tickling onto my shoulder as she brings her lips to my ear, breaths softly. “I know you are ready for me,” she says, her voice so quiet that it sounds like a telepathic thought. Her hand returns to my waist, embraces me. Her foot strokes at my calf, slowly coaxing me from what she imagines is sleep. I smile, enjoy her delicate touches. Her hand finds my erection again, stroking with a rhythm matched by the gentle rocking of her hips, the fall and rise of her breasts as her breathing deepens.

“Wake up and fuck me darling,” she says more loudly, “I want you in me.” Her grip becomes more forceful, and I turn my head over my shoulder. My lips find hers, our tongues dart quickly to meet, taste, duel, explore. I roll over now to face her, lean on one elbow as our kiss breaks and I gaze admiringly at the elegant curves of her body, the beauty of her face. She releases her grip, lays on her back, stretching her arms above her head in a gesture of unspoken invitation and submission.

“You are so beautiful,” I tell her, stroking her cheek, “so pretty, so sexy, so desirable.” Her eyes narrow at my words, her teeth nibble at her bottom lip and I know she is as desperate, as ready, as I am. We kiss again, and my hand skims her body. It knows to pass her breasts and dip directly between her thighs, where her slick lips are begging for me. I stroke tenderly at her sweet spot, and her hips buck to my touch. After just a few short caresses, she glances imploring down to my hand, and I bring it to her mouth where she sucks noisily, saliva mixing with her own honey, spreading around her lips. She parts her legs and I am on top of her. She takes my hand from her mouth and guides it to where my shaft is nudging at her lips, and as one we ease our bodies together.

Her hands are behind her head again now and I join mine with them, our fingers entwining as our hips buck, hastening towards a climax that has been gathering in us both since those texts hours ago. Later we will be more patient, more restrained, we will make love, but for now an animal, carnal, aching desire overtakes us as we fuck. Our pace instantly quickens, wordless shouts escape from us as we surge towards the brink. Her hips tense as her climax gathers and her fingers grip tightly, painfully, onto mine. Her delicate petals grip tightly onto my cock as she bursts over the edge. Her ecstatic sighs fill the room, I thrust again and again until relief engulfs me and our eyes meet as we share the pleasure of my orgasm erupting inside her.

I tumble, relieved onto her and she lazily drapes her arms around me. We kiss lightly, lovingly as our breaths and heartbeats grow slower, softer. “Is the bed warm enough for you,” I ask eventually, “or shall we stoke the fire again?”

 

 

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From → Adult, Fiction, Writing

9 Comments
  1. TheOthers1 permalink

    Oooh this was lovely. Yummy. Purrrfect. 🙂

  2. Yes – very lovely…what’s your address? ; )

  3. Oh yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Divine darling!

  4. It’s been a while since I last visited your blog – sorry about that!
    I must admit you’re getting better & better 🙂
    One could compare you to a good bottle of wine 😉
    Btw I enjoyed reading your ‘bed warming story’ – very much indeed!

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