It started out so innocently naughty…
Leigh and I spent the entire day together today. We do not get these opportunities very often at all. A wonderful morning quickie began our day after a Leightacular evening the night before where she was forced to orgasm repeatedly and intensely via positions, toys, my cock and fingers, hell just pure exhaustive lust.
We hit a local market for all the makings of a unique picnic lunch. Olives, cheese, crackers, salads, antipasto, some sushi and even a favorite beer smuggled into one of our favorite outdoor vistas in the world where we enjoyed each other in the sun. An afternoon of exploring mother nature and all its wonder, some ice cream on the drive home, all intermixed with joking, laughter and a good deal of eye fucking each other between flirtations and double meaning commentary.
“I want to bury my tongue in you so bad!” I exclaimed to her as we embraced in our kitchen upon returning home.
Her eyes danced. She knew why. Remember my alluding to christening our new GiGi Brazilian Hard Waxer a few evenings ago? Well, we did. And I when I say “we did” I mean “WE did”. Yes, you heard right. I’m a smooth operator now and proud owner of a Sphinx. As is she. But she looks so much better than I ever will that way.
(There will be a full post about that evening coming soon)
Leigh’s pussy, as I have alluded to, is magical. It’s the hooha of legend. And when it’s as smooth as the day she entered this world, not to mention the entire way front to back? Fuck…
It had been a few days since RIPfest and I had yet to bury my tongue in that honey pot of hers. So when I saw her remove her jeans in the bedroom to change for a cook-out we were attending later, I not only saw her panty covered ass, but also my opportunity. Walking briskly from the kitchen, I entered the bedroom…and slowly closed the door.
She knows what this means.
Facing her, I was ablaze with passion. I wanted what I wanted, and I wanted it now. My hands found the waistband on her panties and deftly slid them down her alabaster legs to the floor. Once they were no longer an obstacle to the object of my desire, I led her to the side of our bed. With my hands on her shoulders I pushed her onto the comforter, her hips right at the mattress’ edge.
Nirvana spread in front of my eyes as I grasped each leg and, as I kneeled between them, spread them wide. I was not gentle with my mouth, tongue or intentions. I tore into her smooth cunt like a starving man at a buffet. She thrashed, squirmed, squealing protest between gasps as I drank her juices with ferocity. Over and over my tongue snaked inside her, around her, on her, twisting, probing, fucking her feverishly with the pent-up energy of a day of sexual tension being released.
I really had only intended to do just this – devour her as an appetizer for later. Prime the engines for a casual evening out where we could build the fire I started between her thighs into an inferno by night fall.
The massive bulge in my jeans suggested that a second course was to be delivered to the half nude vision at Table 1. Unbuttoning my fly, I freed the painful swelling from its denim prison and, with a few swipes of its throbbing head up and down the length of her equally swollen folds, entered her with one stroke.
She gasped at the depth in which I began to stroke in and out of her, as well as the way the head of my cock rubbed her G spot with every motion. Placing my hands right below the folds of her knees I pressed her legs down onto her. She felt so fucking good spread open that way, my cock even freer to what can best be described as bludgeon her womanhood a stroke at a time.
About now the mood in the room began to change. What started out as mindless playing had somehow become something almost sinister. My eyes felt hot, narrow, sharp as knives staring at the vision literally spread in front of my pistoning form. She was whimpering at how deep each stroke went. Her cervix was kissing the head of my cock repeatedly, which I enjoyed not just physically but emotionally even more so. For I knew that was her physical limitation, that she could not take any more, that she grew very aroused through this masturbation of her deepest recesses.
And, true to my sadistic ways, I did not give her the pleasure of a thorough fucking. Oh no. Long, steady strokes repeated over and over and over so she could really focus on what was happening. Her moans and cries more than made up for any increased motion as far as my pleasure in all of…
…what exactly WAS going on right now?
I felt…different. This felt different. We’ve fucked thousands of times, but every now and then it feels like it has never felt before. And, as incredible as this did feel, it was not her cunt sucking my cock like a hot, wet, hungry mouth that was the different part. No, this was more internal than external.
This was me.
Something was just different about this. I wanted her. I took her. I was fucking her.
And I liked it.
But it wasn’t just the fucking. It was the primal way in which it came about. It’s not as if we have not done things like this before, but this was the first time we had done something like this since she offered me control of her sexuality behind that closed door.
I knew she was tired and sore from the thorough fucking and orgasms of not even 16 hours prior. I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted more.
In a singular motion her thighs were pinned to the bed along side of her. I repositioned myself in a spread leg plank, feet on the hard wood floor, hands on the bed, glared menacingly at the woman I love more than any other… and proceeded to fuck her brains out with a vicious zeal.
Little did either of us realize that this would be mild compared to what was to come…