I can smell her coming from the steps, and the air in my bedroom is thick with the scent of her perfume and the chill night outside. She stepped through the door with that amazing smile, the one she always sports when she lays eyes on me. She was a vision in a short white summer dress that seemed to glow in the dim light from the scented candle.
The fabric clung to her, and through it, I could see the delicate black lace of her thong, the confident outline of her nipple piercing against the cotton. I was amazed and had no words. I got up out of my recliner and crossed the room, and my mouth found the hollow of her throat, a starting point for a journey I needed to make.
My hands quickly slid under her dress, tracing the heat of her skin, the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, and her firm ass. A shiver ran through her as my warm breath prickled her skin, so I knew my kisses on her neck were hitting the spot. She broke away with a wicked grin, crawling onto the bed on all fours toward the edge where I stood, her eyes locked on mine.
Her fingers made quick work of my belt, the button of my black trousers, the zipper, a harsh sound in the quiet. When she freed my already erect cock, her breath hitched. “My god,” she whispered, before her mouth, hot and deliberate, descended.
I watched from a birds-eye view, my hands tangling in her hair, as she took me in, sucking me deep with laser focus, knees buckling under me. I guided her, gently, feeling the resistance give way until she took all of me. She choked on me willingly, eyes pleading for more punishment. The sight was beautiful, watching the edge of her lips spread apart to accommodate all eight inches long, two inches of girth, veins protruding through the skin like lightning in the sky, and a swollen, perfectly pink head. Fuck, her throat clenched like a vice grip. I wanted to lose it right there.
But I needed to taste her, too. I pulled her up, laid her back on the sheets, and hooked my thumbs in the sides of that black lace. I pulled them aside, revealing her glistening, shaved pussy, ready to be eaten. I pressed my warm lips directly on her clit, and she cried out, her hands fisting in the bedding. I worshipped her there, with my warm lips and tongue, working in, around, and on her clit until her back arched clean off the bed.
I placed two fingers in her soaked pussy, making slow motions in and out of her until she came in my mouth with a sound like a sob, her whole body trembling. Her cum flooded my tongue, tangy and sweet like ripe pineapples. I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop as she fought me off for like three minutes, screaming, “Babe, I am too sensitive, please stop, you will let the neighbours hear me scream.”
I finally released her from my mouth and moved up her body, kissing her stomach, her breasts, and rubbing my fingers through her parted lips below. Still whispering in my ear how sensitive she was down there. I saw that as my opportunity to slide just the tip inside of her, and she gasped, her inner muscles still fluttering from her climax. We found a rhythm, slow and deep at first, then building up speed.
She reached for her rose toy that was sitting on the bedside table, the soft mechanical purr joining the symphony of our song. I flipped her into doggy position. The rose toy buzzed mercilessly against her clit as I slammed deep, her pussy clenching like a fist around my throbbing cock. She shattered, sobbing into the pillow, juices soaking my balls, pulling my load from me in hot spurts till my vision blurred, with weakened knees. I had to immediately take a seat on the sofa facing the bed.
Later, spent and sticky, a different hunger growled. “Babe, let’s go get hot dogs,” she murmured, her voice raspy. “From the lady around the lane.”
I laughed. “You’re hungry after that beating, huh?”
She just slid off the bed, slowly trying to gather the strength in her legs, a goddess of messy hair and satisfied smiles, and pulled my white wifebeater (tanktop) over her head. It hugged her body perfectly, falling just beneath her firm ass. She didn’t bother with anything else. The sight of her bare, thick legs under my shirt, knowing what was hidden, was almost enough to make me call the whole trip to the hotdog stand off.
We drove through the sleeping neighbourhood to the hotdog cart to order our food. We shouted our order from the car, where it was then made and brought to us. She ate hers with enjoyment, ketchup, and mayo around her lips, completely unselfconscious in my shirt and nothing else, earning long stares from other customers. I just shook my head, smiled to myself, knowing the plan that was brewing in my head.
It was past one in the morning when we turned back into the yard, the gravel crunching under the tires. I parked the Caddy at its usual spot in the yard and pressed the button to cut the engine. Neither of us made a move to get out of the vehicle. The dew in the air left the windshield fogged, combined with our body heat.
The silence was profound. She looked at me, her eyes dark pools in the dashboard light. Without a word, I reached over for the seat lever and reclined the passenger seat all the way back. She smiled and whispered, “Didn’t you get enough?” Then she hitched the hem of the wifebeater up around her hips and spread her legs, planting her feet on the dashboard.
The view stole my breath. The moonlight caught the dampness between her thighs. I was on her in an instant, kneeling on the carpet in front of the passenger seat, leaning my head between her thighs. This wasn't the frantic heat of the bedroom. This was slow, elegant, and romantic. The glove compartment sat on my back, my chest pressed against the leather seats, but none of it mattered. The only reality was my flicking tongue sliding into her wet pussy, the way her head fell back against the headrest, eyes rolling to the back of her head, and mouth slightly opening to release moans of pleasure.
We moved together, a lazy, deep rhythm of her pussy grinding against my mouth, her hands gripping my bald head. Through the windshield, the sky was an embroidery of stars, our only audience the silent, large shapes of the other vehicles parked in the yard. Her fingers traced the fog her breath left on the passenger door glass. My name was a sigh on her lips, getting faster, tighter.
I got up after she came for the third time, and I traced her folds with my pink tip, dipping in shallow, making her beg, "Please, go deeper." She wrapped her hands around my back, where the movements of both of our bodies were controlled by the moment. My cock throbbed rock-hard inside her as she wined her waist in a circular motion with our lips pressed on each other’s neck.
As I made slow, steady strokes, whispering the most devious words in her ear, I felt her getting even wetter. Before I knew it, her grinds on my dick were getting tighter and moans louder with the words “babe, I'm gonna cum.” Her moans echoed; I clamped a hand over her mouth, thrusting harder until I felt her legs shake.
When she came, it was a quiet, intense thing, a series of sharp gasps and a sudden clutch around me that pulled my own release from the depths of my soul. We stayed like that, fused together in the quiet dark with my dick still pulsing in her pussy, listening to the crickets resume their song.
She finally moved, smiling up at me, ketchup and mayo still smudged near her mouth. I kissed it clean. We were a mess, sticky, smelling of sex and summer night. It was the perfect ending to the night.
