‘How many times have we watched this film!? I wonder out loud.
Another rerun, this time we’ve got the sound down, this is the routine now. A quiet afternoon to end the weekend, preparing ourselves for the five day stretch of eat, sleep, work repeat.
You jump off the sofa ‘stay there a minute’ you say skipping off behind me to the bedroom, bathroom wherever.
The rain’s coming down, and it’s heavy, battering the windows. So dark I reach across and switch the table lamp on. It’s too early to draw the curtains and the room is now reflected in the floor to ceiling windows. Beats looking at the weather that’s for sure, I catch sight of myself on the sofa, a four seater for two people, go figure.
Returning my uninterested gaze to the television, I hear a door open and then close, and sense you’re coming back into the room, bare feet padding on the laminate floor. I’m sure you were wearing socks before. You’re in a dressing gown, of course, it’s not too warm and your way of signalling a concession to the day. No more to do or an unwillingness to do it.
But something is different, your legs are uncovered, and then I discover why. Standing between me and the TV, you open the gown and reveal yourself dressed in black lace underwear, stockings and half cup bra. You’ve put on dark red lipstick and your hair is back and clipped up, ‘oh my goodness’ the habit of formality at such times hasn’t left me, but you smile and lay across my legs, facing away, mid section on my lap.
Covered loosely, my hand idly works it’s way to your ass, giving it a squeeze and running it over and down your thigh before returning to your hip, fingertips nestled in the dip of your abdomen. I repeat the same movement on your left leg, squeeze, down and up again, but this time when I reach the top I slide my fingers between your thighs.
The hair there is short and as I brush against your outer labia, it prickles, strokes centring in and lengthen as the middle finger follows the groove of your moistening slit. Gliding it repeatedly back and forth while applying pressure my finger slips inside and I’m aware of just how wet you are as it’s joined by a second and for one brief moment a third.
Your head is back now and nestled in the crook of my left arm, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, breathing faster.
The fabric of your panties brushes my palm as I continue gliding my fingers into you. I am totally focussed on this moment and it’s as if your drawing me further in, sucking and slurping, that wet clicking as I meet your opening.
‘Oh. Oh. Stop, please, stop’ your eyes half closed and muzzy looking. Moving to meet my kiss you sit up and pivot before standing with your back to me.
‘Please fuck me’ Unzipping my shorts as you reach down and grab my hard on, lowering yourself and working the head through your lips. Then the slow sink. Now slick with precum and you wetter than I’ve seen for a long while, my cock dissapears inch by inch, until you’re sitting back in my lap.
Normally my weight is on you, but this feels so good, and amplified by the way you’re rocking your hips, deep and hitting the spot I’m kissing your neck. Hair aside hand cupping your breast, forefinger and thumb pulling and pitching the nipple.
‘Mmm, fuck, fuck, fuccck’ picking up the pace now, my hips thrusting upwards to meet your bouncing, the wet slap as we meet in the middle. Pulling your tits free, you’re bucking now, and they jiggle pert nipples thrust upwards. Racing towards the inevitable, I lean back, just in time to catch the sight of your pussy lips hugging me tight. That’s enough to send me and with one last thrust and with you dripping and coming, you clench and milk me completely…
I’m still unsure of how that film ends.