Dark Redemption Ch. 12

Pulling back a little, I stuck out my tongue and moved my face into his ass. Just above the hole of his ass, I licked hard up the perineum, to his scrotum, hard over his balls, to the base of his penis. I licked in one long stroke till I got to the tip of his penis, then I closed my hot mouth over the swell of the head and licked and sucked with all the built up lust inside of me. I was still hunched in between his legs, and I could feel his wiry pubic hair on my large swinging breasts, my nipples hard grazing his crawling, moving sack.

I started to stroke Peter's penis with one hand and I snaked the other between my own legs to find that I was dripping wet. Peter started to moan softly, not waking up entirely, but slowly thrusting his hips into my mouth. I felt a hand on the back of my head apply gentle pressure and then I knew that I was making love with my husband.

A feeling of indescribable joy flooded through me. The hand was gentle but wholly encouraging and my body responded with a flowing river of intense wetness. I wanted Peter inside me, but I was aware that he was still partially asleep, and that this was an erotic moment, even though I was experiencing intense lust.

I pulled my head off his penis, and his hand slipped away. I could hear his panting in the dark, but I could not really make out his face. Leaving my face close to his loins, I swiveled about till I had twisted my body in the opposite direction. I spread my legs, and the scent of female arousal filled the room immediately. Encouraged by this, I placed a knee both side of his chest, and leaned forward again to take Peter into my mouth. Once he was safely in there, I pushed pack and lowered my sex on to his face.

There was no response at first. He lay passively. All the while still sucking him, I gyrated my hips so that the soft labia rubbed against his mouth. It was very exciting. The softness of Peters closed mouth, against the wetness of my open vagina. I let Peter's penis fall from my mouth, and I concentrated on my own pleasure for just a few minutes.

I Leaned back on my knees, and bending them up and down for leverage, I rubbed my soaking wet vagina all over Peter's face, letting my wetness cover all of him. I heard his moaning first and I knew he must be aroused to distraction. Then I felt the very tip of his tongue snake its way out of his closed lips, on my labia. I moved my clitoris directly over it immediately, and felt a surge of erotic tingle into the base of my spine.

Leaning slightly forward with my hands on his chest, I moved off my knees, to my feet so that I had more leverage over Peter's face. I slid my clitoris over his protruding tongue exactly as felt the best for me. I knew that the wetness bust be dripping out of me on to his face, but I wanted to cum. I just wanted that release, the safety of sexual desire.

I felt my orgasm approaching from a long way away. Peter wasn't moving; his tongue stuck right out now. I was just running my clit over it, sloshing my pussy back and forth every now and then, but mostly just keeping that hot tongue busy on my clitoris. When I did cum, it was explosive, all the pent up fears and high emotions of the last couple of days falling and pumping out of me in a passionate release. I cried out and thrust hard against his face, pressing my dripping vagina into him. He grabbed at my bucking hips and pushed his tongue deep into me as hard as he could, moaning into my soaking slit.

As soon as my orgasm has subsided, Peter still holding me by the hips, slid me off his face, and pushed me off his body. I fell to his left. He grabbed me again by my hips and rolled me on to my back. He fell over the top of me, thrusting his penis into me in one go. He was grunting and groaning and plunging his penis in and out of me hard. I knew that he was going to cum. I knew Peter so well. I knew his body, I knew what he loved, and I knew how to please him, how to tap into his deepest desires.

I closed my legs over his back and locked my feet together to give him complete access. He had a hand on my breast and the other one behind my back holding hard to my hair. He held my body like it was a rag doll, thrusting and thrusting into it with all the rising of his passion. He kissed my face and the smell of my fresh orgasm all over his face, drove me crazy, as I sucked at his mouth.

Soon I could feel his orgasm approaching. He was facing his own moment. I bucked my hips up to meet each of his thrusts, wanting him deeper and deeper inside of me. I felt his legs go stiff and I knew he would be cumming soon. I thrust his penis into me when I knew he was on the verge of tipping over, and I felt his penis spasm and spurt its seed deep into my willing hungry body.

He lay on top of me letting his euphoria pass, and I lay still savoring what had just gone on between us. I still had my legs locked about his body, and his face was pressed into my hair. He stayed there for longer than usual. Breathing hard, drinking me in.

"My beautiful Anna. My perfect Anna." He whispered into my hair.

He rolled off my body, and as he had always done for as long as I have known him, he cared for me. He helped me back into my place in the bed next to him, and he lay close to my body, as he stroked my hair and kissed my face. We did not speak. There was just too much to say, and I guessed that neither of us felt safe enough to open up the well of emotions that were passing between us.

After he could see that I was relaxed and happy, he lay next to me, with an arm about my shoulders and a hand across to my left breast. I rolled over so that my face was so close to his our breath mingled into each other's lungs. The wetness was trickling out of me and pooling in the fold of my thigh, dripping in slow motion down to the mattress between us. He damp penis hung slack pressed into the pooling wetness of my thigh.

I had my eyes closed and I could smell the strong scent of Peter's semen, my arousal and the unmistakable smell of Peter, my beloved, my man. It was a smell that I had grown to love and that could arouse me when Peter was out and I touched a shirt, or lay my head n his pillow.

I didn't know what tomorrow would bring. Soon I heard the familiar heavy breathing of Peter's sleepiness. He hadn't moved. We were still laying, arms about each other, bodies facing each other, our aura's mingling, our souls reaching out in the darkness of the night. In that feint moment I felt that we would find each other again. That we were meant to be and that some how our connection would withstand any onslaught.

We slept like that all that night. Like lost lovers trying to find each other. The night making anything possible. The moon concealing and revealing the truth.