Diary of Seducing my Muse

For the next few moments, I barely moved, just lay above her, one arm wrapped around her, my other hand working her clit. I watched as she became more and more aroused, her eyes closed, her breathing more erratic. With one hand she reached out and grabbed my cock, and pulled it roughly from my boxers, pumped it furiously. The other pulled at her nipple with an animal roughness. Though I loved the feeling of her hot little hand on my raging cock, I thought little about it as I watched her building up to her release. I'd imagined this so often, and I loved watching the pleasure I was bringing her.

Her breathing turned slowly into gasps, then little crys, a crescendo of involuntary gruntys and squeals that told me just how close she was. Pushing herself into my hand even harder, her body became still and rigid once again, then began I felt her begin to shake, almost as though she were cold. Her shivers became more violent, and she was shaking furiously, not breathing, her pussy beginning to spasm against the probing of my thumb. Her eyes snapped open and locked onto mine, still radiating her lust. She cried out as she came, then gave a great shuddering gasp, as her pussy squeezed the tip of my thumb incredibly hard. I felt her wetness run over my thumb as her shaking subsided and her breathing returned to normal.

Her hand was still on my cock, and she began to stroke it again as she smiled a knowing smile and sat up enough to kiss me. Wrapping her other arm around my neck she pulled me down onto her, and wrapped her legs around me. Lost in these individual sensations, I surrendered myself to her skilful touches, happy to caress her breasts and stare down at her as she slowly pulled me towards her. My cock was at the very mouth of her pussy when she let go of my cock. She lay there with a hand on each of my shoulders, her legs wrapped around my thighs, waiting.

I pushed forwards slowly, feeling the pressure of her tight pussy slowly increasing its grip on my shaft as I thrust further and further inside her. In one long, slow push I filled her completely as she swallowed my whole cock. I held myself there, deep inside her, feeling her heat pressing against my dick, the persistent squeezing as she gently tightened and released her muscles. She adjusted her position slightly, her heels now pressing into my buttocks, and I felt the increased weight as she lifted her body from the bed, with only her head and shoulders on the pillow.

Now I began to thrust into her again, slowly at first, making each thrust as long as possible, shivering slightly with the sensations and watching her pleasure as she began to rock her body and squeeze her muscles in time with my thrusts. Gradually, I sped up my motions, my cock deep inside her making quick, aggressive thrusts as she bucked her hips and rocked against me. We were both crying out with each push, releasing emotion as well as pleasure.

It's a cliché, but I think we came together. Certainly, it was the incredible sensation of her pussy spasming that pushed me over the edge. As I quickened my motions her quick cries turned into one long, drawn out shout, and with another huge shuddering breath she came, shaking, in my arms. The sight of her, as well as the vice-like squeezing on my cock caused me to cum too, as with one long hard push I forced my cock still deeper into her and my seed surged into her with three convulsive bucks of my hips. Slowly, our bodies relaxed, and she was lying across my chest, the chemise bunched up around her hips. I kissed the top of her head and ran my hand over her long hair and smooth back.

We lay like that for a while, and slowly we started to chat. Gradually we sat up, and she leaned against me, half-clothed, as we drank the champagne. I don't know why, but it seemed natural that we'd do nothing more. We just chatted, enjoyed each other's company and relished the intimacy even as we allowed it to fade away. At some point, late in the evening, we were dressed, and almost back to normal. It was a cold, clear night and her cheek was icy cold as I kissed her goodbye at the station entrance.

24 December 2009

We didn't say much on the long drive north for Christmas. I was half-listening to the Carols from Kings on the radio, but my mind was dwelling on her a little. I do still think about her, but it's different somehow. I don't know what's changed. I suppose I've just found peace with the way things are. She's there, somewhere, in my heart and my mind. She's a muse, a beauty, and someone I feel an extraordinary passion for. But we've expressed all that. She'll just be a friend now, and I can finally accept that.

We're off the motorway as my mobile beeps. Pulling up at some lights a moment later, I glance at the text.

"Thank you too. It was wonderful. Happy Christmas."

"Who was that?" my wife asks.

"Oh, just Nisha. Thanking me for the present I got her. We'll be there in a minute."