T and I, after our intense masturbation session, chilled on the sofa for a while, chatting, kissing, casually touching, and finishing off the wine in the heat of the log burner. It felt like we’d kind of pierced the surface now: we knew there was a real spark, a connection and an attraction, a need and a want to explore and share our bodies, as well as a developing level of trust. It’s hard to explain the feeling, a kind of serenity mixed with excitement, a hunger and an easiness.

After the wine was gone I made tea, walking across the open space and around the kitchen area in nothing but my shirt, the only light in the room from the fire. It seemed pointless putting trousers back on but I just couldn’t be bothered to drop the top. T had mentioned a while back that she had a thing about open shirts, and I’d stored that one for future reference. It helped reinforce this sense of being so comfortable together.

The moon was already up when we agreed to head to bed so we brushed our teeth together, looking at each other in the mirror with a sense of cheekiness, intimacy, and warmth. We still had the ladder staircase to negotiate, and I gave a mock flourish with my hand and bowed slightly, saying, “Ladies first.”

“Obviously,” replied T with a knowing smile, as she started up the steep staircase.

She was still in her short skirt, and the view from underneath was…delicious. Her cheeks moved sensuously and revealed a slightly different side of her pussy with each step. As I followed her up, closesteps behind, I called out, “Wait, stop! Don’t move!” before tipping my head back, lifting her skirt from behind, and kissing her pussy firmly from underneath.

“Mmm,” T responded, pausing with one foot a step above the other, “cheeky but nice.”

I kissed more firmly, smelling her, tasting her dried juices from before and stroking her inner thighs with one hand as I steadied myself with the other. I licked just inside her labia with my tongue, relishing the feeling of her plump lips against mine as I pressed upwards; she held her position. I tongue lightly and then deeper into her hole, which was already – or was still – wet and musky.

T lifted her lower foot up and pushed her arse down a little to afford me better access, almost crouching halfway up the ladder with my face embedded between her legs. I held on to the rails with both hands to give me better leverage as I buried myself deeper into her cleft. My nose was practically against her anus and I was able to reach up her slit with the tip of my tongue, flicking it with the tip, eliciting a groan.

“Oh my God, this is hot, but let’s continue upstairs, honey,” T asserted, disengaging from my face and taking the last few steps up the ladder. “There’ll be better access up there,” she added. She crawled onto the bed on her hands and knees, lying flat on her stomach but looking over her shoulder, invitingly. 

I accepted the invitation and crawled after her, first kissing the backs of her calves and working my way up, her thighs. I pushed her skirt up, revealing that peach of a bum, and bit each cheek, feeling her flesh between my teeth, before kissing both of them, too. I lifted the back of her shirt and kissed my way up her spine, lying flat on her for a minute – my cock in her bum crack – before kissing her neck and then working my way down again in nibbles, nips, and kisses.  

T drew her knees up under her body, lifting her hips and arse into the air. I reached under her, drawing my finger across the top of her clit hood to the opening of her vagina, and pressing it inside half an inch.

“Don’t stop there, sunshine,” T purred, reaching back with both hands and opening her cheeks, exposing herself fully.

I pushed my finger two inches in, and then out and in again, slowly and repeatedly, coating it with her wetness, before doubling up and doing the same with two fingers before I started exploring deeper.

"How’s that?” I queried, although, from the way her body was responding, it was obvious it was going down well. (Excuse the pun.)

 “Mmm,” murmured T response. She had her head, cheek down, flat on the bed, her eyes closed, and her mouth slightly open. I continued fingering her, hooking underneath to find her g-spot and reaching underneath with my other hand to play with her clit. She gasped and gyrated slightly as I drew slow circles around it, occasionally rubbing over the top of the hood and nub.

“Please, my arsehole too,” T whispered as she continued to hold herself as open as possible, “it’ll tip me over.”

I leaned forwards, nibbling on T’s bum cheeks before kissing her anus and pressing my tongue against it, feeling the give in the middle, which almost immediately triggered an orgasm for her. She cried out and her whole body tensed up before she bucked hard and squirted a little. I could feel it pulsing through her as she clenched over and over on my fingers, leaking copious juices over my hand.

I held my position as her orgasm subsided and she recovered, my face and tongue, paused, my fingers just inside her. Her body slowly relaxed and she drew forwards, easing herself off my hand and away from my face, before turning over.

“Come here, you,” she said, opening her arms as I crawled up her body, between her legs. We kissed deeply, my face damp with her; she must have tasted herself as our tongues met again. I lay flat against her, her arms around me and our chests and hips together, my hardness against her trimmed pubis.

We ground together, sometimes kissing, biting a little, sometimes looking each other in the eye, but always pressing and grinding together. Before long the angle of her hips changed and my cock head was at her entrance, but we held the position, the tip just there, poised at the entrance. I could have slipped straight in, but there was a deliciousness in waiting at the threshold, our next step forwards.

This may sound strange, but I was a mix of emotions, caught deep in the moment of horniness as well almost tearful at the same time. My self-esteem over the past few years had taken a pounding, to the point where I’d assumed I was undesirable. Experiencing the opposite was almost triggering, my gut response to reject it as unbelievable, false, but the reality was clear, T knew me, wanted me.

T evidently sensed this, and encouraged me. “Be inside me, lover,” she coaxed me as she pressed her hips forwards, taking me deeper. “Share yourself, have me, I want you.”

“Thank you,” I replied, as I released the negatives and surrendered to the moment, rock hard, sliding forwards and burying myself. It was divine, not only physically but also emotionally, to be here again, as close as you could be, for an independent and wonderful being to be genuinely desiring you.

I held there for a few moments, relishing this feeling, this welcoming, but before long the need to rub, to fuck, took over and I started slowly, gyrating my hips so I stayed deep inside but with my pubic bone pressed against T’s clit. She returned the compliment, matching my rhythm quickly so my cock was barely moving but with just enough friction to keep things progressing. I could sense her next orgasm coming, her breathing changed, almost hoarse, and the gyrations became shorter but harder, pressing at the point of contact to maximise the pressure on her clit.

“Fuck yes,” T panted, almost in a wine. She began reaching for it, focusing on what she needed to get her there again. I listened to her body, matching what she wanted, moving little, offering myself for her to almost pound against in short, sharp, but increasingly prolonged, nearly painful grinds.

It was building, I could tell: T’s pussy was almost swelling, and she made small exhalations every time we pressed hard together. Then she suddenly froze, releasing an almost ten-second “HuuuuuuuUUURRRGHHH!” that rose at the end as she started to really come. I bit her hard on the neck and there was no holding this one back: she cried out loudly as each wave broke and she pressed her hips up against me, flooding my cock and balls, and her inner thighs, with her juices.

T evidently felt less need to recover after this one; she kissed me deeply on the mouth, hungrily and very wetly, so passionately I knew our lips would be bruised later. “Screw me, lover,” she urged.

“I thought you’d never ask,” I croaked. I needed no further invitation. I lifted my upper body up off the bed and started easing myself all the way in, and then all the way out, and in again, slowly to begin with, so our loins were the only place where we were in contact. I felt like my head was going to explode, I was as hard as I could remember in a long time, oversensitive along my whole length and across my body but somehow in control of it.

I picked up the pace, creating a sopping, squelching noise as I slammed all the way in and then almost withdrew each time, punctuated by T’s exhaling and me grunting each time our hips hit. I wished I could do this forever, but before long it started to become too much, and I could detect that tell-tale tickle deep inside, which began to rise quickly to the surface.

“I’m close, I won’t be able to hold it much longer,” I hissed, “where do you want it?”

“You’ve tasted me, now it’s my turn,” she replied, “whenever you’re ready, come in my mouth.”

I kept going for a few more strokes, about a minute, banging hard to bring myself right to the edge before calling out, almost in pain, as I felt it take me. Holding it tight with my stomach muscles, I withdrew, rising back onto my knees. T was up and onto all four in an instant, taking my cock head into her mouth and pulling gently on my balls.

“Haaarrgh…fuckfuckfuckfuck!” I called out – T’s teeth gently closed around the edges of my cock head and her tongue pressed my frenulum. I released a cry of part pain, part joy, and let go of the tenseness in my stomach and balls, almost doubling over as the surges rose up through my cock and I repeatedly deposited what felt like lumps and lumps of jizz into T’s mouth.

As I stopped, T released my cock and rose up onto her knees so we were face to face. She opened her mouth slightly – I could see cream, I don’t think she’d swallowed anything – and kissed me, sharing her tongue and my sticky load. Some of it spilled out onto our faces as we snogged, swilling and exchanging my spunk and our spit until we’d swallowed most of it in a filthy but intimate and loving conclusion. It was also another threshold passed for me, another step forwards in what would, I could already tell, be one of many this week.

We lay back on the bed, spooning, my semi-hard, sticky cock wedged down against her wet pussy. I had one arm underneath her, and she held that hand. My face was in her hair and I could smell shampoo, wine and sex on her as I gently traced lines up her thigh and side with my other hand, occasionally toying casually with her brown nipples we drifted off to sleep.