Cape Cod

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You enjoy an evening at the ocean.
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A quiet autumn night on Cape Cod, a quiet inn with views of the ocean on three sides, a quiet weekend together, eating dinners, taking long walks, sharing breakfast in bed, letting the time slowly pass through us.

After a nice Italian dinner, three full courses and too much desert, we head back to the inn to sit on our favorite chairs on a side porch, one that looks due south, along the coast and across the ocean. We find our chairs empty, waiting for us, but you need a cup of coffee and I offer brandy to go with it. As you settle in, wrapping a blanket around you against the cool ocean breezes, I fetch the coffee and the spirits, bringing back two warm mugs. A light kiss on the lips and then we both settled back, holding hands between our chairs, silently sipping.

The sounds of the water, the satisfied feeling of a large meal and a few glasses of wine, the gentle warmth of the brandy mixed together, making us sleepy. Only the coffee and the gentle playfulness of our hands locked together keeps us awake. You tell me stories about growing up and what you remember makes you happy most. I listen closely, staring out at the ocean, but my mind’s eye towards you.

The coffee grows colder, the cool breezes stronger, and I suggest moving back to our room, maybe getting under some warm covers. I look over to you and smile. We have been exploring each other all weekend, but I feel there is more still to come, more touches to find and learn. You smile at me, squeeze my hand, and stand up quickly. You put your cup down on the porch ledge, take mine from my hands and then throw the blanket out wide, slipping on to my lap, then covering us both.

You kiss my lips, then tuck your head into my shoulder, resting just on my chest. My arms wrap around you and you snuggle closer. I squeeze tighter, not wanting this feeling, this warmth or being together like this to go away. We both stay silent, listening to the ocean, listening to our own deep breathing.

My fingers play through your hair, my hand traces a line down your cheek and neck. You shiver a little and I hold you tighter. Your face looks up to mine and we both smile before closing our eyes and placing our lips together lightly. A soft gentle kiss, then my hand finds your face, pulls you in closer and we kiss more deeply, more fully. I can taste wine and coffee and chocolate desert on your lips, our tongues beginning to sneak around, tease each other. You moan softly, I murmur how good this feels. You break our kiss and rest your head against my shoulder again, your hands rubbing my chest and arms.

I look down at you a let out a long sigh, so beautiful, so warm and gentle, so soft and perfectly contoured in my lap. The blanket still covers us, your hands moving around now underneath it. I start to whisper and you kiss me quickly. “Keep your hand along my face, just touch my cheek and nose and lips and neck.” You kiss me deeply again, then shift a little, positioning your legs, moving your hips, adjusting your posture on my lap. You have undone a few buttons on your skirt, letting it fall open just enough for your skin to radiate heat on me. My hand leaves your face for a moment and you look up at me and smile, “just keep your hand there, dear.”

We kiss again, lips parting fully now to let our tongues mingle and mixed. You suck a little on my tongue, I respond with a nibble on your lip. Your hands beginning looking for the belt and buttons on my pants that are restraining me. I start to help and you move my hand back to your face with a quiet “shhh.” I moan a little, and a sharp gasp as your fingers reach inside my pants, your fingertips on my skin. You wrap your hand around me and squeeze softly. We both breathe deeply.

Your fingers begin a slow dance, moving between your legs, touching yourself and bringing the heat and warm wetness to me. A few long strokes up and down me, and then your fingers disappear again, sliding deep inside you. Your other hand reaches around inside the pockets of the light coat I have on. You find a small tube of massage cream, lilac scented, that you hid there earlier. I smile, surprised and pleased. You move your lips to my neck, taking small bites and nibbles as you flip open the top of the tube, slowly squeezing cream onto me. Your hand starts stroking me again and I let out a long quiet groan, and start saying your name again and again.

You shift again, just slightly, just enough, and as your lips find mine, your eyes open looking into mine, your hand slowly slides my slippery hardness into you. You have shifted your body just enough and let your legs open just enough for me to slide inside you, you are tight and wet around me. We barely move, just letting our bodies stayed joined. I start rocking slightly in the chair, moving back and forth, the motion just enough to move my hardness in small motions inside you. Our lips stay just barely touching, faint, faint kisses, matching the faint movement of our bodies. Your hand reaches for me, slowly stroking the base of me as I move, just barely move, inside you.

My hand traces the lines of your face, into your hair, across your forehead, down your nose to your lips, your chin, your neck. Your fingers squeeze the base of me, you tighten around me. My hand finds your mouth again and you suck one finger in, then whisper, “take that to me.” My hand reaches down, under the covers, between all the clothes, and finds that small special spot, ready, aching for a touch. My fingers rub and tug and tease you and you let out a sign, then a moan. “Stay inside me,” you say, over and over, “stay inside me.” I keep rocking slowly, my movements in you just enough. Our fingers slow their pace and we find a gentle rhythm, a slow steady pace, with my hardness growing inside you, getting deeper and deeper into you. You shift your body again, and your legs open just a bit more. My hardness reaches to the back of you and we both draw a quick breath. Then slowly release it as our bodies grow accustomed to the feeling, so deep inside you now, so warm.

Our orgasms come slowly, moving through us like the waves of the ocean we can hear all around us. Mine comes first, seeming to fill you up. You cum shortly after, as you feel my fluid running sticky down your legs. As you cum, your head rests easily on my shoulder and I squeeze you tight, my arms wrapped around you, holding you beneath this blanket, on this chair, on this porch, listening to the ocean, drowning in each other.

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