Ian pulls into the garage of his house and we go in through the back door into the kitchen. We have the lightning tour. Everything is tidy as I suspected it would be, and clean. He tells me he has a husband and wife whip through every two weeks who make things spotless whether they want to be spotless or not. After the tour, I chop tomatoes and Ian grates some cheeses and soon we are having some very good omelets and sipping red wine. We sit together in the lounge talking about the evening, why so many people hate Craig, Ian's best friend Paul's messy divorce, and tax law. Suddenly my head is nodding and so we go upstairs to bed. I use the toothbrush he got for me and slip between the covers. Its chilly in the bedroom.

Ian kisses my neck, spooning against my back, and I sigh, snuggling closer to his glorious warmth, his arm around me. We are both tired and sleep is kind to us.

I wake up because of the clicking sound and open my eyes. I see the faint outline of a closet door that is in the wrong place and remember I'm in Ian's bed. He must be the source of the sound. I reach behind me and feel his hip under my hand. I turn over and slide my hand over his stomach under the duvet. He is warm in the dark room and I go back to sleep.

I wake again and it's morning. Ian is sitting next to me on the edge of the bed, his hair is sticking up in the middle. He is wearing bright blue socks, a Chicago Bears zip hoodie, unzipped, and nothing else. He looks wonderful. He has a small plate of apple slices on his knee and a mug of tea in his hand.

"Good morning," he says. "Have some tea and apple." I sit up and take an apple slice. My nipples harden outside of the warm bed and Ian tries not to stare. He looks into my eyes for a moment and then back at my breasts, smiling.

"Apples clean your teeth and make your lips sweet," he says. I'm not awake enough yet to process any of this conversation and chew at the same time so I concentrate on chewing and looking intelligent. He hands me the tea after a few slices. I have my tea as he tells me about the weather today, which is grey and mild. Then he takes the mug and puts it on the table next to me.

"Move over," he says. I wiggle over and he takes off the hoodie, pulls the covers back, and climbs in next to me, with his socks on. He kisses my mouth. His lips are sweet, very sweet. His tongue is sweet too.

"You have your socks on," I tell him.

"My feet are cold."

"Your knees are cold," I tell him.

"They will warm up." His fingers are on my face, behind my ear, in my hair.

"Your butt is cold too," I tell him. I like touching him, smooth and fuzzy.

He brushes hair from my face and pulls it back so he can kiss my neck, and his hand glides over my breast and around my waist, pulling my hip towards him. His cock is hard again against my stomach and I moan as all of my nerves come alive under these simple touches. Then his lips are on my nipple, hand on my thigh, pulling my knee up over his hip.

His tongue circles my nipple before his lips close around it and he takes it into his mouth, flicking the tip with his tongue, sucking gently. I hold his head and sigh. His mouth moves to the other breast.

"Mmmmmm. Yes," I say. I feel him smiling at my breast.

With my leg over his hip, he pulls me so he is on his back and I'm straddling his hips. My pussy is directly over his smooth, hard cock. It's almost too much for me and I want to slow down, wait quietly for just a moment, just feel things. But I'm in a trance created by my want, the heat of him under me. I spread my lips with my hand and slide my pussy back and forth along his shaft slowly, spreading my wetness along his length. He strokes me from my shoulders to the backs of my thighs and back up. Trembling, I continue sliding, getting wetter and hotter against him, under his hands. He's harder. bigger and harder, and I want him inside my body. I crave the connection, the feeling. He caresses my breast again, and I realize that the whole time I was married to my husband, he never touched me this way, gently and all over my body. Tears sting my eyes. I shut them tightly, Ian's lips are on mine again, a sweet, hard passionate kiss, as he presses me down so we are chest to chest.

A tear falls on his cheek and he feels it as it starts to cool. He moves his mouth from mine so he can look at me. "What's wrong, what is it?" he asks, taking his hand from my thigh to touch my cheek, wiping at the tears with his thumb.

"I like this so much, I like the way you touch me," I tell him.

"Shouldn't make you cry, baby. We don't have to do this. We can stop."

"He never touched me the way you do," I tell him. "My husband."

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He kisses me some more and I keep dropping tears on him.

"Please stop crying. If you keep crying my erection will disappear completely, for days," Ian says, very, very seriously. I laugh and wipe my eyes, unexpected mourning over.

"We can't have that," I tell him, petting the fur on his chest, thumbs over his nipples.

"Are you sure you are alright?" he asks between kisses that rub his stubble against my neck, giving me shivers along my spine, and increasing the wetness between my legs.

My answer is sliding from the base of his hard cock to the tip and back, the wet noise we make turning me on more. I put his face between my hands and kiss him hard. I feel his cock twitch against my swollen lips, and with one hand guide him to my entrance and slowly slide down. I don't move once I reach the base and I am filled, I want to lay there for a moment and breathe. smell his skin, feel his chest rise and fall beneath me as he touches me with his fingertips. Finally, I roll my hips forward and back, feeling his cock swell, his hands squeezing my ass, pulling the cheeks apart and then back together and I sigh against him. I keep rolling my hips, he keeps squeezing. We glide together.

"Baby," he says, "that's it, that's it."

I can feel my juices dripping over his cock, and squeeze him inside me. He grunts, and uses his squeezing hands to help me ride him, lifting and pushing me down. I'm beginning to pant, my nipples are hard, pressed into his chest, holding onto his shoulders, feeling the muscle and bone there.

"Bite me," I tell him. "Bite my neck." He kisses my neck, and gently touches my skin with his teeth. "Hard, right here." I give him the spot where my shoulder and neck meet and he bites, hard. He bites me again, a little higher and harder, and I'm cumming on his cock, moaning, riding wave after wave of pleasure up and down his hardness, he is thrusting hard and I'm shaking. I think I'm finished and then cum hard again, surprising me, my juices flowing. It feels so good, holding his shoulders, those strong hands on my hips, squeezing my ass, and finally holding me, arms around my waist. I feel him swelling inside me, and I know he's going to cum in a minute so I stop moving, freeze.

"Mmmmm," he says against me. It might be a question but he is still except for the pulse I can l feel in his cock and his breathing. I force myself to relax, trying to melt a bit. We breathe together for at least a minute, not moving, until I can't stand it anymore. I roll my hips forward and back again slowly, moaning into his shoulder.

Ian rolls me onto my back and props himself on his elbows, mouth exploring mine, kissing my throat and begins long, slow, deep thrusts, harder and harder. My legs are wrapped around his hips, I'm cumming, and it's so good, I see colored lights, can't keep my eyes open, and cry out against his neck.

"I'm going to cum," he tells me. I love the way he grunts as he cums, and I feel him thrusting and spurting into me, filling me up and my pussy is overflowing. It seems to last a long time, his orgasm and mine rolling together. We lie panting, my legs still locked around his hips as I kiss his face. His cum is dripping between my cheeks and I like it.

"Fuck, Ian."

He pulls out and kneels between my legs, runs his fingers from my neck, down my chest, over my breasts and stomach, over my vulva. He pulls my thighs over his shoulders, laces his fingers across my stomach, and begins to run his tongue over my clit, through my folds, gently sucking my inner labia, and lapping up our mingled juices. He licks, long and slow from my tight rosebud, and up. long and slow. He moves the hood of my clit back and forth gently with his thumb as his tongue slides and caresses, probing inside me. I'm holding his head against my pussy, grinding into his sweet mouth, when he slides two fingers into my wetness and finger fucks me while he circles my clit with the tip of his tongue. I cum again and again and think I pass out for a moment. When I can open my eyes again, he is lying next to me, propped on his elbow, hand on my stomach. smiling.

I'm limp, and cannot move at all.

I finally find my voice and notice I'm hoarse but don't remember making a noise. "Holy Mother of God," I say, "I'm pretty sure that was a sin. I'm...I'm...oh my god. Ian."

"Good?"

"Beyond good. Epic. Historical. Fantastic. Amazing," I say.

"Oh, go on," he says, petting me. "No, really go on."

I laugh and find I can move again. I kiss his mouth, which tastes of apples, pussy, and cum. It is the most delicious-tasting kiss I have ever had.

We have a bit of a snuggle. I hold him tightly. I like the smell of our sex.

"You know what we should do?" Ian asks. " We should get coffee. Claire has been telling me I should stop being so slow and talk to you."

"Really? Is Claire the blonde one?" I ask. "And here you are fucking me senseless. Will she be proud of you?"

"The one with fourteen earrings in one ear. That's Claire." Ian pauses for a moment, pondering my question. "Probably. I'm proud of me."

"We should probably put on clothes first," I say and kiss his delicious mouth again.