Lazy Sunday Afternoon
As I watch my woman in the kitchen, I can't stop thinking about sex...
(This story is only available on Lush Stories. If you are reading it elsewhere then it has been stolen)
It was early, Sunday afternoon. The sun was streaming through the window, silhouetting my lovely missus, as she bustled around the kitchen.
Since we'd had an early lunch, the kids were off out, playing with friends. It was delightful, just the two of us. She'd just poured boiling water into the cafetiere and the room was filling with the aroma of the rich, delightful Colombian blend. The house was peaceful, just the sound of the radio drifting through from the dining room. Not enough to distract, just an agreeable buzz. It made a nice change, I have to say. Bless their cotton socks, but those kids were noisy little buggers.
I was sitting at the small kitchen table reading The Times. This was nice. We didn't get to spend all that much time alone these days, what with the children and work. Life was good, busy, but good.
I looked up from my newspaper as she pushed down the plunger of the French Press then poured our coffees. She was unaware that I was watching and I smiled to myself. She looked very pretty today; I liked it when she looked pretty for me. Her skirt was flared, coming halfway down her thighs, and her black tights accentuated her slim, shapely legs. How I adored those dainty ankles and, as she had her back to me, I could see the cute dimples at the backs of her knees. Gentlemen, let me tell you, those little dimples are one of the most erogenous areas of a woman's body. A stroke, a lick or a nibble there is an excellent precursor to foreplay. Almost as good as the back of the neck.
Suddenly, I could visualise myself on my knees behind her, my hands under her skirt, gripping the taut muscles on the fronts of her thighs, supporting myself, as I kissed my way up from those perfect ankles to those dainty dimples and beyond...
As I daydreamed and observed her, she reached up to the cupboard. Standing on her tiptoes, to reach the packet of biscuits from the top shelf, her skirt rose higher. I could see that she wasn't wearing tights at all, but hold-up stockings. I caught the merest glimpse of her creamy flesh, in stark contrast to the charcoal lace tops of her hosiery. Clever girl… I felt a stirring in my groin and I shook my head, turning my attention back to the newspaper.
"Darling, did you see that they caught that slimy politician? You know, the one who got caught with that prostitute?" I asked her, looking up over the top of my spectacles.
"Oh, I think I may have heard something on the local news," she answered off-handedly, as she turned to face me, coffee mug in one hand and a small plate of cookies in the other.
As she set the cup on the table before me, a little of the hot liquid splashed from the mug and onto the smooth surface of the table.
"Oops!" she said, quickly turning back to the counter and grabbing a cloth.
My pretty girl leaned over the table in front of me, cloth in hand and vigorously mopped up the spill. It afforded me the most delightful view of her ample cleavage and I was transfixed by the way her breasts jiggled as her hand rubbed away the mess she'd made.
I had a flashback to my face between those very breasts, hands pushing them together, as my mouth sucked and licked on each of her blushing nipples. Her hands in my hair, back arching while her moans and gasps encouraged me all the more...
I shook my head, smiling.
"What's funny, babe?" she looked at me quizzically.
She was so blissfully unaware that she was the focus of my attention. It was one of the things I most loved about her. An almost child-like naivete, an innocence which was enchanting, bewitching.
"Nothing, my love. I was just thinking how beautiful you look today."
I swear she blushed slightly as she grinned coquettishly and turned back to the window, lifting dishes and stacking them neatly until there was room in the sink to wash them.
Now with her back to me, she busied herself, donning her migraine-inducing, day-glow pink rubber gloves. I know she hated wearing those things and heaven knows I didn't think they did much to enhance her beauty, but I'd surprised her yesterday by gifting her with a manicure and I knew that she wouldn't want to waste her pretty nails in the soapy dishwater.
Pushing my glasses back onto the bridge of my nose, I turned my focus once more to my newspaper. She was humming a tune as she washed the glasses. It made me smile inside. She was by no means the best singer in the world, but she could carry a tune and I knew how she loved to sing. It was a good indicator of her mood, the way her voice sounded and the gusto with which she performed.
I looked up, staring into space, as I thought of her in the shower, singing at the top of her lungs as she washed her hair. Her eyes closed, fingers massaging the foamy mop on top of her head. Her raised arms lifting her breasts, showing them at their very best. Rivulets of bubbles running down the contours of her body as she wiggled and danced behind the perspex shower door...
Again, I felt my penis twitch inside my pants, and I shifted in my seat to make myself a little more comfortable. God, even after all this time, I still found this woman, MY woman, an absolute delight.
The clatter of wet cutlery being dropped into the drainer brought me back into the room and I noticed that she had almost finished. I was glad. I wanted her again. I had taken her only this morning.
I had pressed my body against her sleeping form, her back against my chest, pushing myself against her so that as much of our skin was touching as possible, trying not to wake her. Well, obviously I was going to wake her. I just wanted to do it gently. I kissed and licked her shoulder. Nipping and sucking the back of her gorgeous neck. That was another of her weak spots, a few licks and sucks there quickly got her wet, every single time…
"Lift your leg, darling," I had whispered into her ear as I gently nuzzled and bit at the point where her neck and shoulder met.
She moaned sleepily in response but obligingly raised her limb, to give me full access to her puffy lips. Bless her, she was so good to me, such a loveable, amenable little thing. I brought my arm around the back of her knee, lifting and holding her leg in place, allowing me to pull and tease one of her nipples and opening her up so that I could access her sweetest spot.
She was slick as I pushed my thick, hard, morning wood into her soft pussy. I was already deep inside her with my first thrust, bringing her to consciousness and she responded by pushing back against me. Soon she began to moan and her fingers slipped between her legs, bringing herself to climax, as I filled her with my come…
God, I was semi-erect now, well, perhaps a little more than that. I looked at my newspaper, but all I saw was a blur.
She picked up the cast-iron skillet in which she'd cooked the bacon and eggs earlier; it was the last thing to be washed. I watched her, fascinated by her, as she scrubbed hard at the surface of the pan, and I became suddenly aware of the way that her ass was wobbling while her arm furiously scoured. It was hypnotic and I could feel my cock stiffening further inside my pants. This time no amount of readjusting my seat was going to make it go away.
I dropped my newspaper onto the table and I was behind her in a flash.
"Oh!" she gasped, as she felt my arms slip around her waist and my mouth at the back of her neck.
"I want you now, you sexy little bitch!" I growled into her ear, pulling her lobe delicately between my lips.
She turned her head to kiss me and I put my hands on her hips, pushing her against the sink, holding her in place as our mouths met. My tongue probed, then my teeth gently clamped her bottom lip, drawing it into my mouth.
I pressed my body against hers. Her short skirt offering little protection from the solid bulge which was by now tight against her arse.
She merely gasped and pushed back against me. God, she was so accommodating, such a good fucking girl.
Moving back slightly, I slipped my knee between her thighs and pushed them apart. One hand pressed against the small of her back, still holding her in place, while the other slid under to the crotch of her panties. I cupped her mound and my fingertips were against her little button, pressing gently, as my thumb found it's way inside the fabric. She moaned, hands still deep in the dishwater as I pulled back from her to unfasten my trousers. I unzipped, unbuttoned and they fell to the floor. I had no underwear on, so my cock immediately sprang proud from my groin.
She brought her hand round to feel me and I swear my balls began to retract as the wet, dripping rubber-clad hand touched my shaft.
"Argh! Gloves" I gasped through gritted teeth.
"Oh god, I'm sorry," she giggled, quickly snapping the foamy latex from her hands and dropping them onto the tiles.
Not to let a little thing like that interfere with what was happening, I pushed, turning her away from me again. My cock was pressing into her thigh as I slipped my hands around her, pulling up the front of her top and cupping her breasts in my hands. She moaned as my thumbs began to rub her nipples and I could feel my cock engorging all the more as her nipples stiffened under her bra.
"Fuck me," she sighed, then louder, "Fuck me! I want you inside me."
My hands dropped from her breasts and I grabbed the waistband of her knickers, and sharply pulled them down, revealing her gorgeous bare arse and eliciting a sharp gasp from her. I took my cock in hand. I was fucking HUGE for her. I pushed the head against her slit and rubbed it over her lips, feeling it push in as I spread her juices along them.
She moaned quietly and I thrust into her, hard, deep. She tried to push back against me, but I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed my thick, fat cock into her, filling her completely. Her hands were gripping the edge of the sink as I began to piston and I pushed her further down by her shoulders. Suddenly she squealed and began to giggle. Her laughing made her pussy contact and it was threatening to expel my rigid tool. I didn't understand why she was laughing until she reached behind and pulled my hands round, back onto her breasts. I had pushed her down so far that they had dipped into the soapy basin. She pulled up her bra, letting her wet, naked breasts drop neatly into my cupped palms.
Oh god, her wet tits and their nipples poking into my palms felt so fucking good. My cock pulsed inside her and I began to pummel her hard again. I rubbed her soft tits, dipping my hands into the water to wet them again. I liked this sensation and so did she as she was beginning to moan. I felt her pussy contract as her climax approached.
I fucked her. I fucked her hard and deep. Owning her pussy, just the way she liked me to. I felt my balls tighten and I came. I filled her, thrusting and then stopping as my creamy come filled her belly.
I gently let myself drop against her back, cock still inside her and I kissed her back, almost shaking from the exertion. I held her as I felt my cock soften and slip from her, warm liquid dripping down her thighs.
"Let me get up," she groaned, pushing me back.
I laughed as her wet top dropped back down over her breasts. She would have done well in a wet t-shirt competition, that's for sure.
"Pass me that cloth, darling," she pointed to the worktop and I reached over and gave it to her.
She immediately put it under her skirt, wiping my come from her thighs.
"You never came?" I whispered, guiltily.
She smiled, "I still enjoyed it. I really enjoyed it."
"Darling, I'm sorry. I just couldn't wait for you. I just had to have you, come in you…" I mumbled apologetically.
She smiled and leaned forward. She placed her hands on my cheeks and pulled my face to hers and kissed my forehead, my nose and finally my mouth.
"I love you. However, you owe me one now," she said, raising one eyebrow in faux annoyance. "I know you're good for it though. Now, pull up your bloody pants and let me changed out of these wet clothes."
She winked as she turned from me, wiggled her perfect arse and left the room.
I sighed, smiling, pulled up my trousers and sat back down to finish my newspaper, unable to really concentrate, thinking about how I was going to make it up to her.