I lay in bed, slowly stroking my hard morning cock.
I haven’t ejaculated in seven days, since the morning one week ago when I’d accidentally nutted in Emily’s pussy.
You may remember that my agreement with my Sunday morning shorty, the Emily I’ve just referred to (who is only 4’11”), is that I can touch myself throughout the week, but I can’t ejaculate—That is, not if I want her Sunday morning services…
“I’ll know if you jack off,” she’d said when we first started playing around a few short weeks ago. “I know exactly how much cum to expect from your horny ass.”
I lay beneath my bed sheets, frustrated, leaking precum all over myself and all over my sheets, waiting for the key to turn in my front door lock. I haven’t seen Emily all week—Not in the parking lot, not on the stairs, not outside our apartments, and I have allowed negative thoughts to slowly creep in.
What if she doesn’t show up this morning?
What if I never see her again?
I hate to admit it, but I’ve become somewhat infatuated with her since she’d left me last week with my nut still inside her. If she doesn’t show up today, I don’t know what I’ll do.
I roll over onto my stomach, sheets be damned, and begin to hump at the pillow that I grip between my legs. If she does show up, I wonder if she’ll let me cum inside her again. I’ve been thinking about it all week (infatuated with it, in fact). It’s been infuriating.
Then, I hear it. I pause, precum between my stomach and the pillow I’ve been humping on.
Emily peeks through my bedroom door, which is only slightly ajar, and then bursts into the room. “Wake up, Sleepy Head!” She laughs, jumping onto the bed and piling on top of me.
Her long hair hangs down into my face, and the lavender smell brings with it an intense sort of relief and elation. “Where the fuck have you been?” I ask, rolling over onto my back with her still on top of me.
She disrobes and grinds her already-wet pussy against the hair running from my pubes up to my belly button, grinning, and then bites onto her bottom lip, seductively, and looks me straight in the eye. “What are you talking about?” She asks.
“I normally see you at least a couple of times throughout the week,” I say, reaching around behind her and spreading her tight ass cheeks, one cheek gripped in each hand.
“Eek!” She shrieks, flying forward onto me, laughing after I poke her butthole with the tip of my hard slimy cock. She slaps me playfully and then lays her head down on my chest and relaxes there.
She reaches behind her, still laying on me—Warm skin on warm skin—and begins to play with my cock head, using my precum to run her fingers tauntingly over and around my tight and throbbing mushroom head. She uses a single fingertip to slowly stroke the underside of my very sensitive and slobbery knob, and my cock twitches and oozes even more precum.
She grabs onto my shaft, her head still laying on my chest and the smell of lavender still filling my nostrils. She slowly slides down me, toward my penis, and then stops. “I almost forgot,” she says, sitting up on me. “You ask me not to shower on Saturday nights for a reason.”
She pivots around, swinging her ass into the air just above my face, taunting me, wagging it there. “Would you like some booty?” She asks in a mock British accent, still wagging her booty around in the space between my face and the ceiling.
I reach up and grab her ass cheeks again—I can smell her morning bottom already, though it’s two feet above me—And I slide up behind her in bed to get a better whiff.
The scent of her bottom (her rosebud) hits me like a sledge hammer, and I fly to my knees behind her like a feral beast after a female pussy in heat.
She dives forward onto her stomach, away from me, rolling over onto her back. “Not so fast,” she says. “I didn’t say you could get at my pussy again, did I?” She pulls her knees up to her chest, butt naked, her crack naturally spreading into a wide, pink crevasse, and uses a finger on each hand to peel back her pink pussy lips from her entry.
I move between her legs, and she kicks me backward toward the headboard, onto my back.
“I said not so fast,” she says. “Didn’t I?”
She climbs up onto me again, resting her head on my chest, and the rest of her body skin-to-skin on top of me. This time when she slides down my stomach toward my throbbing cock head, she presses her butthole against it, rocking back and forth, putting on my throbbing tip just a little more pressure each time she rocks backward until I feel I may finally penetrate her.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She says, reading my mind.
“Have you ever done it before?” I ask.
“Not for real,” she says. “I’ve played, of course.”
“And?”
“And I like it a lot,” she says.
I thrust gently but firmly, piercing her anus with the fat and bulbous head of my needy cock, and her bottom accepts it, grips onto it, threatening to milk every bit of hot spunk from me within a matter of seconds.
Emily, eyes closed now, continues to rock gently back and forth, humping slowly, putting just a bit more pressure on my inserted penis every time she rocks back against it. “I want you to impale me,” she says with a whimper.
All of my body heat, it seems, rises into my face.
Emily reaches up and holds my face in her hands as I had earlier done to her ass (except she doesn’t try to spread my face apart). She kisses me delicately on the mouth, and we begin to gently make out, to make love to each other for the first time.
Her booty suddenly slides down the length of my cock, her warmth inching slowly down my slippery shaft, until her bottom finally comes to rest on my balls.
“God, I need you,” I moan.
Emily and I continue to make love, kissing each other on the chest, neck, and lips. I latch onto her right earlobe with my teeth, just enough pressure to hold her there. I nibble up her ear and latch onto her again, a bit harder now. She shudders.
“Jesus, God,” she says, and I feel her sticky cum in my short pubic hair as she grinds slowly yet forcefully against me.
She rides my cock like her own personal joystick.
Her ass is so tight—Far tighter than anything I’ve ever had my penis in before—and so warm. I could live a long happy life in there.
“Your pubes tickle my clit,” she says, grinding harder now and biting onto my bottom lip. “I’m going to cum,” she says without letting go. She jerks, moaning, and her butthole grips, winking, over and over, with each wave of her cum convulsions—She continues to moan and grind against me with need, as she gets off with my cock inside her ass.
She finishes with a deep moan, presses her hands onto the headboard above us, and pushes herself even harder downward onto my shaft. (I am balls deep and then some.) She presses against the headboard in rhythmic shoves, never letting my cock escape her even a little, but shoves herself down onto my balls with such force that it seems she’s trying to get pregnant through her asshole.
A warm fuzzy feeling envelops me, and I begin to feel my climax building from deep within my root. “I’m going to cum,” I moan, and Emily moans in my ear, “Shoot it in my tight little ass.”
I grip her ass cheeks tightly and spread them apart as if I’m Sampson ravaging the columns of the temple, and she presses against the headboard harder than ever. She squeals. Her butthole jumps again and begins to milk me, yet again—She shudders, a new wave of orgasm racking her so completely that her convulsions squeeze on and on, squeezing and relaxing, squeezing and relaxing.
In the grip of one such convulsion, my vision blurs, and I spray the load of the week as hot and hard and deep into her as humanly possible.
She lays her head back down on my chest and our privates continue to convulse together for a few moments, the remnants of a perfect orgasm, my cock still throbbing inside her tight little ass.
After we’ve settled, Emily nestles her head cutely against my chest.
“I was going to wait to tell you,” she says. “But I think this is probably as good a time as any.”
“Tell me what?” I ask.
“I’m moving back home,” she says, and I hear the finality in her voice.
I’m too stunned to say anything, but I begin to caress her hair (not knowing what else to do).
“Next week will probably be my last time with you before I go,” she says. “Unless I leave before Sunday.”
“Will you at least say good-bye?” I ask. “If you leave sooner?”
I’m in shock.
“Probably not,” she says. “I hate good-byes.”
We lay like that for a long time until my cock goes completely soft in her bottom and I have to stretch it beyond belief to pull it out.
She leaves with my key, so I hold out hope for next week.
If it doesn’t work out, maybe she will visit some time…..
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/zc1ehn/my_sunday_morning_shorty_2_m32f19_morning_sex
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!updateme
Jesus this was hot!! Thank you!!
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