We’re sitting on the porch of the cottage in Maine on one of those beautiful, early summer afternoons. Bright sunshine playing hide and seek with the puffy white clouds that skitter across the sky, the air redolent of pine mixed with a hint of the sea. All that breaks the silence is a woodpecker’s staccato drilling of a nearby tree.
From out of the corner of my eye I see you close The Kite Runner, place it in the wicker reading basic and ease out of your rocking chair. You steal over to the glider where I lie, reading the business section of the New York Times. With a flick of your wrist, the paper falls to the porch floor as you settle into my lap.
“Let’s do it,” you whisper sucking gently on my ear lobe. “I can’t stand thinking about it for another minute.”
“I didn’t know you were thinking about it, but what’s the magic number going to be?” I ask eagerly, my cock beginning to stir.
You pause before answering a question with a question. “Will you pick the kids up after camp and take them for a long swim?”
“And is a late supper okay?”
“Sure, for the good of the cause, and I’ll cook.”
“Then it’s three,” you answer, playfully rubbing my crotch, “and please try to be on time. I just can’t stand it when you’re late.”
Three, I think, savoring your choice. One scarcely counts, two wouldn’t be enough on a beautiful afternoon like this when we have the extraordinary luxury of being all by ourselves, and four is reserved for the rarest of occasions. Three it is then, a perfect choice.
Arm in arm we move to the sleeping porch, you assigning me a chore on the way. “Since I won’t be here later, darling, remember to pick up a bottle of maple syrup for the kids’ ice cream tonight. But get the smallest bottle the store has. Otherwise, they’ll sneak down in the middle of the night and finish it off, and that’s terrible for their teeth.”
Planning ahead, I ease out of my docksiders, shorts, and T-shirt, depositing them on the chair in the hall outside our sleeping porch, where our king-sized bed has been as carefully chosen as the isolated location of the cottage. The room faces east and the afternoon sun now warms but does not heat it. I turn the bed down and ease onto the crisp, sun-dried sheets as you prepare yourself in the bathroom.
A silk kimono cloaks your stunning body as you first slip into the room. As it descends, I marvel at your proudly displayed hourglass figure, so utterly beautiful even after three children.
“Dear God,” you observe at my nakedness, your hand trailing into your blond bush, “you turn me on gaziantep escort bayan so much. But no toe sucking today, I want this to last.”
Leaping into bed beside me, slide your tongue deep into my mouth and begin to rub against me. Your fingers find my nipples and rub them, and my cock, to erection. Sure that I’m standing tall, you slide down my body and engulf me with your mouth, taking me deep down your throat, challenging me not to cum.
After a minute, you rise, swing your leg over me, and gently insert my raging hard-on into your pussy. I feel heat rising and wetness spreading as you sit, riding me, your eyes closed, a smile tracing across your face.
Ever so gently you drop forward, now lying prone on me. Your fingers find my nipples again as you maneuver your body so that only the knob of my erection is in you, sliding sensuously over your throbbing g-spot.
Feeling your wet warmth spreading over me, I wet the tip of my pointer finger, reach behind, and slip it into your welcoming asshole where it finds its way between the outer and inner rings of your sphincter and slowly massages the secret all lovers should know about.
As your dampness spreads over my body, you groan, contemplating this oft-taken short cut to ecstasy, knowing that a body-wracking orgasm is only seconds away, but decline the pleasure it offers.
“No, sweetie,” you murmur as you move my finger away, “I really only want the magic dick today. I need it so much.”
“Then I’m going to fuck you in the ass,” I whisper into your ear. “Think how good that is going to feel.”
With a sigh, you roll off, cuddle into my crotch and greedily lap your cum from my pubic hair, ball and cock, my erection feeling like it will burst as you again tantalize it with your mouth and tongue.
Having enjoyed the taste of yourself, you stretch out, lying against me as two spoons would in a silver drawer. Pulling your butt cheeks open, you offer me your asshole in the most erotic of gestures imaginable. With one smooth, slow, and studied thrust, I slide as deeply into you as I can ever be.
“God,” you gasp as your ass spasms in welcome, “it feels so incredibly good. I’m just full, full, full of you. It feels like you could split me in half.” Awed into silence, I savor the sensations as you adjust to my dick in your ass, little burst of pleasure exploding everywhere in what feels like a clinging, incredibly warm and wet glove.
And so begins our journey up the mountain that will end beyond ecstasy, in a place we cannot describe but only visit.
The hike to the tree line is a long, languid one, teasing spent touching and exploring well known and yet different paths. As you play with your cunt with one hand and stroke your nipples with the other, I trace your jaw line with my fingers, then move them lightly up and down your spine, pausing to press at the spot where my penis has entered your ass and then moving in an s-like motion up your spine to your shoulder blades, barely touching your skin, suggesting and teasing. Soon, goose bumps break out all over your arms as your tight little cave grabs frantically at my dick.
“I love fucking you in the ass,” I whisper and you stroke your clit more rapidly. Through the thin membrane that separate your pussy from my cock, I feel a finger exploring for your g-spot. You find it and groan. Your breathing, always the telltale clue, grows uneven as we move higher. But then you stop, letting the senses rest for a few moments before teasing them again closer and closer to release.
Two, then three, then four times you tantalize tease yourself close to the edge, promising pleasure and then withdrawing the promise as your body strains in anticipation. I feel for a favorite spot on the back of your scalp that I rub slowly and you answer by beginning to finger yourself furiously.
There’s no turning back now, it’s time to break out above the trees.
Past the point of no return now, your whole body starts to shake, your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, and your feet begin to flutter uncontrollably. Suddenly, you pause, scream into a pillow, and a huge convulsion consumes you. Six, seven, eight times you throw yourself on my dick, wailing as you seem to try to rip it right out of my body.
We rest for just a moment, gathering strength and then you begin to move against me again. The pace is faster now, a rougher scramble toward the ledge just below the summit. The niceties fall away, replaced by pure lust. Something large slides into your cunt, pressing against my erection. Is it several fingers, a small fist, your favorite dildo hidden until now under the pillow? Whatever it is, it’s big and you twist and turn on me with abandon. You’re so wet now that I can hear the rhythmic “slap, slap, slap” of your ass pounding against me as you drip onto the sheets. Your free hand reaches up, grabbing at a breast and your whole body starts to vibrate.
Wrapping my arms around your waist, I try to hang on but know that the moment cannot last. “I’m coming again,” you scream–and you do, your violent convulsions pulling us both up and onto the ledge.
Now it’s a mad scramble to the summit, your body shaking and gyrating, your breath coming in gasps. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” you cry, “fuck me so hard that your dick comes out the back of my throat.”
The first of the final spasms washes over your body. “Now, you bastard, now, now, now, goddamn it,” you shriek, half a plea and half a command.
I relax, thrust, and shoot ropes of cum into your ass in perfect sync with the convulsions that threaten to turn your body inside out. A lupine growl emerges from somewhere deep within you as you struggle to hold the moment and then collapse.
It’s over. We’re at the summit, there and not there at the same time.
Sensing a kind stupor begin to envelop me, I fight it, feeling the tension drain from your body like water from a bathtub. Lightness and softness replace what seconds ago had been demanding and hard. As I slip away into fantasy, the last thing that registers with me is your deep, sonorous breathing. It’s difficult to believe, but you’re sound asleep
My mind wanders through fields of wild flowers, childhood experiences, and recreations of your orgasms, flitting deliciously between consciousness and something else and then settling on the something else.
The next thing I am aware of is that damned woodpecker, still at his job. It can’t be more than ten minutes, but I have slipped out of you and lie unattached. Languidly, I ease myself out of bed and stare down at your beauty. Angelically smiling, you have curled yourself into a little ball and, to reveal the most embarrassing detail of the afternoon, have a thumb securely lodged in your mouth. The bright pink blotches of passion are fading but still visible across your abdomen. Beneath you, on what is left of the bottom sheet, lies a slowly expand circle of our outpourings, about the size of a large serving plate, the air still filled with the intoxicating aroma of our cums.
Realizing that you will lie like that for several hours and that the sun will start to set, I gently pull the top sheet over you to cover you to warm your nakedness and tiptoe from the porch, swinging the screen door closed behind me.
Later, I know, you will lie with me under several blankets that protect us from the chill of the Maine night, your head on my chest. As I fall asleep, you will tell me in wonderful detail of your journey down the mountain and I will feel the first stirring of renewed desire.
Before that, I also know, there will be a special lilt in your voice as you sing to the kids at the end of storytelling time.
The kids, my mind registers. It’s time to pick the kids up and take them to the beach for that long swim. For goodness sake, don’t forget the maple syrup–and make sure it’s the smallest bottle in the store.