The Best Erotic Stories.

by Muse

As the jet bobbed and swayed in the turbulence of a snowstorm, I leaned my head back against the headrest. Only my fingers, dug into the armrest, gave away my apprehension. My plane was late leaving Charlotte for Cleveland. Out the window, I could see the flickering lights of the city below along with the low cloud cover that seemed to mask portions of the landscape below. I shook my head in my thoughts of how stupid I was to allow them to book me into an evening flight, in the dead of winter, for a conference in Cleveland.

Cleveland was the snow capital of Ohio, according to Phillip. The conditions off of the Great Lakes made a simple snow into a major one. By the increasing bumps in the plane, I closely examined the pocket in front of me for the motion sickness bag. Although I had only drunk a mixed drink before boarding the flight, ostensibly to calm my nerves, my stomach was empty. All the lurching gave me the undeniable urge that something was going to happen, and it wouldn't be pretty.

I looked around at my fellow passengers. A flight on a Saturday night had a few empty seats. The seats that were occupied were filled with families. Not business people, most of those folks had the presence of mind to travel on Friday. Once again, in an effort to ignore the inevitability of embarrassing myself in public, I berated myself for traveling on Saturday. "The conference is on Monday," I thought. "Why did you decide to fly in early, just for the cheap rates?"

In my personal chastisement, I knew why I had made the choice I did. It was to see Phillip. As my mind wondered to the last time we had spent any time together, I heard the pilot announce that he was beginning his decent into the Cleveland airport. I heard the engines whine as the flight crew cut them and we started our rapid decline. I closed my eyes and quickly recited a few, long forgotten prayers, to a God that I didn't talk to regularly and who didn't answer me at all.

My mind drifted from my silent pleas for traveler's grace and I began to form the image of Phillip in my mind. His handsome face and his perpetual grin flooded my being. It was at least six years since I had seen him. It was when he flew into Charlotte to see his brother. I met him at the airport and took him out for a quick bite to eat before he had to drive into Concord. The vision of his warm green/gray eyes and his brown hair soothed my apprehension of the landing. I pictured his smile and could almost here him say, "Janet, you are such a baby" while enfolding me into a major bear hug. As the planes wheels hit the runway, I could hear his warm laughter and every part of me relaxed, my hands slowly eased their grip and came together, almost in prayerful meditation.

Phillip was one of my oldest friends. We had met in college, where he was two years ahead of me. We seemed to have an immediate rapport. Whether it was because we were alike with our quirky senses of humor or our insatiable desire for stability we seemed to be meant as friends. He was like the big brother I never had. We both lived in the same co-educational dormitory. He was joined at the hip with Vanessa, a nursing student that he was engaged to marry. He just sort of adopted me. He woke me in the morning, early, to go to breakfast before our 8 am classes. He listened to me whine and cry about all the guys that were using me and abusing me.

But best of all, he was always my sounding board, someone with whom I had a great deal of trust and respect. After college, he married Vanessa. I attended the wedding. Unbeknownst to him, I wrote "HELP ME" on the bottom of his shoes. At the kneeling bench the crowd twittered to see the red letters, although only the front two pews could make out the words. He never found out who did it; he always blamed his brother for the deed. Vanessa didn't find a great deal of amusement in the prank. But she always seemed to have an overabundance of propriety and a singular lack of a sense of humor. I always wondered what drew them together. I always thought that it was because they were both virgins. Their marriage seemed to be idyllic, despite my general feelings that they were ill suited for each other. I didn't pretend to know everything about the human condition, much less, the intricacies of relationships. Mine were always tumultuous and passionate, inevitably leading to a horrible sense of boredom after the first year. Perhaps that is why my marriages, plural, never seemed to last more than three or four years before their inevitable demise.

Yet, three years ago, Vanessa developed leukemia. Phillip and I often talked about death during those sad days. It was as if we both were having to come to grip with our mortalities: Phillip by watching someone he loved slip away and me by realizing that I inevitably would leave this world with no legacy, children or the "Great American Novel". By the time Phillip and Vanessa realized the seriousness of the situation, she was gone, less than six weeks after the diagnosis. No one called me until a week after the funeral. I was surprised that Phillip didn't call, but knowing him he was absolutely devastated while having to be strong for his son. Phillip's brother, Hal, finally called me. I quizzed Hal why I wasn't called sooner, but I didn't expect the answer I got.

"Didn't you know that Vanessa was always jealous of your friendship with Phillip?" I was blown away.

Hal continued with, "I didn't call out of respect for Vanessa, but that was a mistake. After the interment, Phillip asked if anyone had called you. I lied to him and told him that I did." As Hal's voice trembled with emotion he stated, "I realized that funerals are for the living and I should have let you be there for Phillip." I gave Phillip a couple of weeks and then I called him. I never let him know that I wasn't called. To spare Hal, I told him that I had a busy schedule at work that I could not rearrange. He accepted the words, but I knew that they still hurt.

While I was waiting for the children and adults to clear the aisles, I gazed out the window. The snow was falling in earnest, the swirls of snowflakes drifting in the light of the airport. I rose to my feet and collected the bag in the overhead compartment. My eyes glanced downward to my paperback novel. It was a run of the mill romance novel I picked up in Charlotte when my flight was delayed. I had passed the odd hour or so by reading about an oh so handsome duke and a beautiful, but impoverished, orphan girl that miraculously meet, fall in love and make love. Yea, right, the first time out and she achieves orgasm. I was about half way through the book and I gave it a thoughtful stare. I left it in the pocket in front of my seat for some poor sucker that believed in that bullshit.

The covered walkway between the plane and the airport had small gaps and the cold air seeped through. I pulled my coat around me closely and walked the distance to the gate. My heart fell as I looked around. At first I wasn't surprised that he wasn't there. My flight was an hour late, and he had a young son to look after. I heard a voice yell, "JOYCE!" I looked up to see Phillip at the far end of the desk. He looked better than the last picture he had e-mailed me. After Vanessa's death, Phillip lost a lot of weight and became almost haggard. I knew how much his loss had affected him. Our correspondence continually included grief counseling and support.

After a couple of years I had badgered him to go out and meet some nice woman to date, but he always threw off the suggestion. It seemed that his entire life was now devoted to his son, Jacob. As we strolled towards each other, I mentally counted up the years. Jacob was now six, entering kindergarten and amazing his teachers in just how well adjusted he was, despite the loss of his mother. Phillip had spared no cost for therapy for them both and I was looking forward to seeing Jacob. But for now, my eyes feasted on Phillip.

I was swept into his arms. He lifted me from the ground, his grasp constricting my breath. He held me tight to him and I responded in kind to him. He smelled as he always did, warm, musky and faintly of CK1. As he lowered me to the ground, I gazed into his eyes. My happiness in seeing him was reflected in his gaze. He had filled out a little; his lanky frame wasn't so painfully thin. He had grown a goatee and in spite of my amusement, it looked quite good on him.

"Gee, how I have missed you!" I exclaimed. He nodded his head in affirmation of my sentiment. I leaned up and hugged him again and kissed him on the cheek. "Are we going to get a bite to eat before I go to my motel?" I asked. He looked at me in amazement.

"Joyce, there is a major snowstorm. I'm going to take you to my house, call and cancel your hotel reservation and make you a sandwich. It may not be the best choice insofar as you are concerned, but I am thinking of our safety," he stated in his wonderfully low tones.

"No problem, Sport. Just trying to get some idea of the game plan." I replied. We gathered my luggage all the time chatting about what we had been up to and how our respective families were doing. Once you get past my parents and my cats, there is just me. I was never blessed to be a mommy, and at thirty-seven I didn't expect to become one. By this late point in my life, I took birth control pills to make sure that I didn't have to deal with any lingering surprises left by my happen chance encounters with the few men that I dated. Of course I had been scrupulous in requiring condoms in all encounters. In spite of my sexcapades, I always made sure that I played as carefully as possible. Phillip filled in the details of Jacob and school, his brothers and sister. His parents died a while back, so Phillip had made Vanessa and Jacob his world. Now Jacob was the center of that world and rightfully so.

The ride to his home was awkward. The roads were covered in snow, but luckily for us we were behind a plow. The snow came down so hard that it seemed to be blowing in sideways.

"That's when you know that we are in for a major accumulation," Phillip commented. We didn't talk much because it took most of Phillip's concentration to drive. In a forty-minute ride that should have taken ten, we arrived at Phillip's home. The duplex was lit up and Phillip pulled into the garage, the automatic door slowly closing behind us. Once it closed completely, Phillip killed the engine and said "Let's get into the house before the garage gets cold." We retrieved my bags from the trunk of the car and scampered in the house like a couple of children. Phillip cut on the lights in the den and cut on the gas logs. The chill from the evening quickly evaporated into the warmth of the fire. I shrugged off my coat, hanging it on a hook by the back door. Phillip shook his head as I immediately followed by slipping off my shoes and parking my behind in the deep cushioned sofa in front of the fire.

I leaned my head against the headrest and closed my eyes, savoring the warmth and stillness. I heard the CD player click on and the sounds of classical music filled the air. Phillip was much too intellectual to listen to only one type of music, but I knew that he had put it on to calm me. The fingernail prints in the palm of my hands said all there was needed to tell of my evening. He came and sat beside me, drawing one of my hands into his and leaning his body ever so slightly so that I could use him as my cushion instead of the couch.

I relaxed against him and we started talking. Long calls to Ohio never seem to be the same as the warmth of the voice with you. I could feel his reactions to my questions; his body reverberated with suppressed chuckles at my jokes, and his stroking to calm my nerves. His hand carefully grazed the side of my arm, while I listened to the steady beat of his heart. I asked where Jacob was and Phillip replied that Vanessa's parents had him for the weekend. Phillip was kind in that regard. Vanessa was their only child and Jacob their only link to her. It was as if they shared custody of him, both seeing Vanessa in his serious brown eyes and his heart shaped face.

After fifteen minutes of relaxation, I heard my stomach growl. I ignored it, hoping that Phillip didn't hear. His laughter set me straight. "And when was the last time you ate?" he asked. "About 1 pm," I replied. "No wonder your stomach is protesting!" he commented. He eased me from his torso, and made his way into the kitchen. I slipped off the couch and followed him there. Vanessa's touches lingered there. Plants were on the counter and windowsill. Colorful seat cushions added contrast to the pristine white floor, white counters and white cabinets. I eased out a barstool and perched myself so that I could watch "The Master" make an incredible sandwich.

His talent was known throughout the dorm. I was strictly a bread, meat and condiment kind of gal whereas Phillip created masterpieces that were awesome to look at and absolutely scrumptious to eat. He put out two paper towels and started with whole wheat bread. He then slathered a dark brown mustard on each side. From there he added the sliced cucumbers, alfalfa sprouts, lettuce, tomato and eyeing me carefully, added honey baked ham shaved so thin that you could almost see through it. The last ingredient was Swiss cheese. I could smell the quality of the cheese as he opened the paper, its nuttiness mixing with the clean aroma of the vegetables. I sighed as I looked at it, good food was almost as good as great sex, and my body definitely showed the excesses.

I wasn't thin or even lithe. I had the full curves of a woman from full breasts to curvy hips. The figure-glass figure made my waist look small, even though it wasn't. I had ceased dieting to maintain; at this point in time I had no delusions of ever being model thin or body beautiful. I had become accepting in my body and was perhaps the most sensual I had ever been. Something in acceptance makes us aware. I think I was more sexually confident than I had ever been. And I found my bold stares met with approval by those that received my mental messages. Some led to encounters; others to simply fantasies played out in my mind.

"Beer or wine?" a voice brought me back to consciousness. "Wine," I replied. Phillip reached up and pulled two beautiful wine goblets from the cabinets above and put them on the counter. He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of chardonnay. The wine was a compromise, as I knew so well. In college when we drank, he preferred beer and I preferred wine. It got were half the time we both ordered beer and half the time we shared a bottle of wine. He opened the wine and poured a small amount into his glass to taste. The wine tasting parties at the dorm had ruined him for life.

Phillip was in it for the show and my grin conveyed my amusement because he made a tremendous effort in the play tasting the wine and assuring me that it met his requirements for quality. He poured my glass then filled his. I watched as he deftly cut the sandwiches and placed them on a platter.

Phillip then reached back into the refrigerator and pulled out a plate of fresh fruit. In the middle of winter in Cleveland, it had to have cost a small fortune. Fresh strawberries, pineapple, cantaloupe and honeydew melon squares were artistically arranged on the plate. It was one of my weaknesses, the sweetness of fresh fruit and I couldn't resist the urge to snag a piece of cantaloupe from the plate and pop it into my mouth. I was taken back by the mellow ripeness of the fruit. Phillip had certainly chosen well. He smiled at me and said "Why don't you grab the glasses and we will enjoy our dinner by the fire."

Phillip didn't have to ask twice, I picked up both classes by the globes, the coolness of the alcohol swirling as I walked back into the living room. Phillip followed with both plates and put them on the coffee table in front of the couch. We both sort of fell back into the warmth of the moment and enjoyed our dinner by the flickering gaslight. The wine was crisp and dry, complimenting both the sandwich and the fruit. By the time I had finished my sandwich and enjoyed my fill of fruit I realized that we were finishing off the bottle of wine and I was yawning like I hadn't slept in three days. As I well knew, the wine had relaxed me, but not as much as being in Phillip's presence. It wasn't that I ever truly forgot how well we got along, but until I was back in his company that I realized just how comfortable we were together. The second yawn, no matter how well I though I had covered it up, was telling.

"I'm sending you to bed," Phillip muttered. "I know that the trip was torture and you are exhausted. I have made up the guest room and I'm going to grab your bags and put them there." As he moved my luggage, I snuggled down on the couch and threw the afghan on the back over my legs. It wasn't until I felt Phillip gently shake my shoulder that I knew that I had dropped off to sleep in the scant seconds he was gone.

"Let me show you the way," he commented. I followed him up the stairs where he pointed out the bathroom, gay with bright patterned towels and warm green walls. My bedroom was at the end of the hall, across from a room decorated with a little boy in mind. The bed was turned down for me and I reached over to hug Phillip. "Thanks for everything" I said in the sleepiest tone. He hugged me back and said "Get some rest, we will talk some more in the morning." I opened my suitcase to pull out my ex-husband John's oldest tee shirt. I don't think I kept it out of sentimental reasons, but more importantly because it was long, cotton and very comfortable. The dark blue shirt grazed the tops of my thighs and I hugged it close to me. Out the window I could see the snow, still falling hard and felt the chill of the night air invade the room. I quickly made use of the bathroom and fell into bed, the wine quickly lulling me to sleep along with the whisper of the wind outside.

I saw the lights flicker in the cabin, and felt the turbulence through the plane through the clouds. I could see the attendants, their worried faces hastening us to our seats. I heard the Captain's voice through the speakers tell us that we were beginning our decent into Cleveland and I could tell by the tossing of the cabin that there was a problem. In the hazy light I could feel the fear of my fellow travelers weight the cabin with additional pressure. I leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes, only to hear the screams of my fellow passengers as the wheels hit the runway and the flames shot up from the landing gear. I could smell the smoke and felt a thud as my eyes flew open. As I laid in bed and the light from the street shone through the window. I ran my hand through my hair and felt the back of my neck.

The sweat from the nightmare was cool to the touch and I tucked both hands behind my neck and tried to calm my breathing. The covers were askew from my tossing and turning. As I smoothed the wrinkles from the comforter, I listened to the wind whirl outside. It's low moan made me feel so alone. My thoughts drifted to the dream. It was so real and I felt so helpless in its aftermath. Every time I closed my eyes to go back to sleep, it was like I was back in the same horrific nightmare and I was completely helpless to change the outcome. After thirty minutes of trying to go to sleep, I finally got up and went to the bathroom. I padded my way down the hall. Phillip's door was slightly opened. I pushed it wider and stepped into the room.

The bedroom was lit by the whiteness of the snowfall. Phillip didn't even roll over when I stepped inside. He was curled in a fetal position on the far side of the bed. I just had to be close to someone. The dream had disturbed me more that I had thought one could. I eased the covers down and slipped in behind Phillip to spoon him. His legs stretched somewhat and I slipped my arm around his waist. He felt so warm, the thermostat warming the waterbed to a comfortable temperature. As I closed my eyes, my head nestled in the hollow where his shoulder met the mattress, I could smell him, that warm male scent so uniquely Phillip's. It filled my senses, just as Phillip murmuring Vanessa's name paralyzed my efforts to become comfortable. He encased my hand in his and pulled my arm closer to him, and I drifted back to sleep, cocooned in his presence and comforted by the thought that I might have brought Phillip some amount of solace playing the part of his departed spouse.

In the early morning I felt his warmth leave me. I rolled over to move closer to him, but he eased his way from the bed. In the quiet before coming fully cognizant of morning, I heard his steps where he sought his morning ablutions. As the toilet flushed and I dimly heard the water run, I drifted back to that place where time stands still. I never felt him ease back under the covers and lovingly spoon my body the way I had cupped his the previous evening.

Forty-five minutes later I felt a hand slowly stroke my back and arm. Sated from the additional sleep, I just laid there enjoying his gentle touch to my body. My eyes opened. The room was bright, an almost unnatural brightness where the sunlight was reflecting off of the snow. Like water, the light was carried and illuminated the room to almost an unbearable brightness. I rolled over to look at the shadows where the light played off of the furniture to create the most unusual shapes on the ceiling. Phillip propped one hand under his head and peered into my face.

"What do I owe the pleasure of your company?" he asked.

"A royal nightmare, of course" I responded. His eyes captured mine when he stated so simply, "I had hoped that there was another reason."

"And that would be?" I questioned.

"This," he answered as his head dropped to steal a kiss. Normally I would close my eyes for a kiss. I was so relaxed and secure that my eyes stayed open to look at him while his lips touched mine. His kiss was tender and questioning. As he broke contact, I slipped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me. I eased my head off the pillow as I sought his lips to taste. My mind flew in a thousand different directions as I pursued the embrace. In all the years we had known each other, we had never explored the carnal aspect of our relationship. We both needed each other in this brief moment in time, and I intended to make the most of whatever came from this unexpected turn in our friendship. As my tongue sought entrance into his mouth, I felt his tongue dance with mine. It was as if that kiss sent an immediate burn to my clit. I had responded to many men, but not with the intensity of need that I felt at this moment with Phillip. Our lips broke contact and I leaned back into his body to recapture that which we had lost, for that brief second. I licked at his lips and gently bit the fullness of his bottom lip with a playful abandon that caused him to chuckle.

"Slow down a minute, tiger" he chastised. I felt his weight shift and he was lying across my body and the kiss became slow and languorous. It was as if we had been lovers forever and it was a normal bout of lovemaking rather than the bonfire of a new and untried passionate encounter. He held me closely under him while he tasted my mouth. "Too late to wonder about morning breath," I thought and continued to kiss him with the urgency of escalating desire. I felt his hand slowly trail down my shirt to encircle my left breast. As he gently squeezed the flesh, I felt my nipples continue to harden and underneath his lips I let out a low moan. He tasted so good; underneath the mint of leftover toothpaste were the lingering remnants of the wine.

His flavor intoxicated me and I felt my body beginning to wet in preparation of making love. I broke the kiss long enough to ask, "Is this going where I think it is going?" Phillip just laughed in response and dropped his head to continue to oral interplay. I quickly moved my head long enough to tell him that I needed to take care of some "personal business" before we continued. I eased my way out from under him and made my way to his bathroom. It occurred to me while I was relieving myself that Phillip's bedroom and bathroom were quite masculine in decor. The rooms were decorated in shades of brown and green with no "feminine" touches. I paused at the sink long enough to see that my hair was a mess and the telltale flush of sex had warmed my face. I quickly took a sink bath and hurried back into the bedroom. Phillip was lying on the bed with his eyes glued to the door.

"By the end of the day, there will be no closed doors or lingering secrets between us," he promised. I saw his need for me in his eyes. Me in an old ratty tee shirt and definitely not dressed for seduction. I slipped back under the covers and calmly stated, "Now, where were we?"

Phillip chuckled and I felt his lips linger on mine before he opened my mouth beneath his and inserted his tongue. His tongue mimicked the sex act itself, and my pussy ached for his possession. I slid my hands underneath his tee shirt and slowly eased the shirt over his head. His skin was smooth, sparsely covered with brown hair. I ran my fingers over his chest through the mat of hair, lingering to touch his nipples. His kisses and breathing told me that it was as highly erotic for him as it was for me. How I was enjoying exploring the terrain of his body! I broke from his kiss to slowly kiss my way down his jaw line to his collarbone. I licked the dip there and gently bit around his neckline. I felt his hands around my waist, and before I knew it he had pulled me on top of him and I was sitting directly on top of his very erect member. His prick lay within my slit and I felt it press upwards into my body, insistent upon its release, but enjoying the warmth and proximity to its ultimate resting place.

As I ran my hands up the length of his torso, I felt his hands grab the tail of my tee shirt and he pulled it over my head in a quick motion. It was the first time in a long time that I did not wonder what a man thought of my body while we were in the sack. I relaxed in the knowledge that Phillip and I shared a very special love and we were going to consummate that friendship in a manner that few friends dared to explore.

I leaned into his body, licking around the areola of his chest: first the left and then the right. In his excitement, he murmured, "Do it again" and instead of the singular licks, I coupled the taste with several sucks on his nipples. I felt his back arch against me. Some men do not like nipple play, but as I could feel and hear, Phillip was very open to the erotic of our play. I busied myself laving over the nipple exchanging kisses with pulls and teases. Phillip's hands weren't idle.

He was busy caressing the line of my hips back to my ass. He kneaded and squeezed the "love handles" around my waist and he took his hand and gently ran it down my ass to cup my flanks while I teased his chest. In a smooth motion, he rolled me from atop him and placed me on my back. He did not place his full weight into my body, but leaned up and captured my nipple in the same manner as I had been playing with his. As my hands eagerly caressed his shoulders and neckline I felt his gentle suckling and nibbling. In the brightness of the room I could see his every action. The way his tongue left his mouth to lick the sensitive tip of my nipple. As it hardened even still, I felt his fingers gently capture my other nipple and pull it. Between the whole handed caresses of my breast and his insistent tugging at each nipple, I could see how erect and hard both of those little nubs had become.

My breasts and neck were flushed red with the beginnings of sexual blush and I felt my pussy leak its love juice down my leg. Above me, I could see Phillip working each breast in turn and I could feel his insistent prick hard and eager at my thigh. The tip was already leaking precum, and just the feel of his readiness make me lift my hips from the bed to entice him to enter me. Phillip would have none of my insistency. He slowly trailed kisses down my torso, pausing to lick at my bellybutton and nip at my hips.

As I felt his breath slowly dance across my abdomen, my very being clenched within an empty vagina. I knew that if he licked, sucked or even looked at me I was going to come. As I moaned my anguish, I felt his hands slowly feather their way up my thighs and urge my legs apart. As his fingers gently touched my pussy I felt the folds open and try to suck his fingers into their warm depths. He ran his fingers along the sides of my nether lips and I noticed the moisture trickle between my legs. Phillip slowly ran a finger from the back to the front, taking part of the lubricant from the vagina back to the clit. As he slowly began to rub the exposed little bud, I felt the beginnings of an orgasm begin. As my entire body tensed, the intimate massage ceased.

Moaning in frustration, I felt his head slither from the confines of the covers and he gathered me in a one-armed embrace. As his head dipped to kiss me again, I had started shaking in my anticipation of a climax. I moaned and lifted my hips again. As I felt his tongue touch mine again, I felt Phillip's hand repeat the motion. Slowly he dipped into my wetness and ran his finger to my clit where this time it slowly circled and rubbed. As my hips started to move in time with the caress, his tongue took up the same movement and I cried underneath his mouth. I broke the kiss as I became so vocal in my pleasure. "Oh God, don't stop, please don't stop!" I begged to him. I felt my body shake as the suppressed orgasm blossomed through my body. My nipples tightened to the point they hurt. I felt my body quicken beneath his insistent touch and my pussy gasped for his fingers to invade its warm emptiness.

As every part of me spasmed by the strength of the climax, I felt his fingers slowly work their way into my pussy. The walls grasped onto his fingers drawing them in and they began to work in and out in the age-old rhythm of fucking. As the room ceased spinning and my breathing returned to normal, I opened my eyes to see Phillip watching my face. He had given me my pleasure and had watched me lose control. In that brief moment, I felt embarrassed. He smiled and bent down to capture my lips beneath his as his body rolled onto mine and his prick entered me.

I had no idea how big or tumescent Phillip was. All I knew was that at the moment that he so swiftly entered me that my body felt complete. His length was still within me, and I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me. There was a glimmer of perspiration on his forehead and as I wiggled beneath him, he stilled my body by lying directly on top of me. As I watched his face, I realized that he was trying to regain his composure so that we could fuck properly. I eased my legs apart and up so that he could be a deep within me as he wanted. As my knees worked their way up to my chest, I felt him slide in farther still. He had yet to start the thrusting that would bring his pleasure and I watched, as he seemed to steel himself to go on.

As the first thrust was insistent, the following ones were languorous in contrast, as if he wanted to make love forever. Phillip appeared to have all the time in the world to come and the waterbed beneath me absorbed his strokes. I joined his body in the rhythm he set and regaled in the strength of his arms above me. As I felt his body tense in preparation of his orgasm, I leaned into his body and slowly sucked his nipple. I heard his groan as I felt him give into the orgasm. In the singular stroke that buried his prick deep within me, I encircled his body within my legs, wrapping them tightly around his waist. He couldn't thrust out; only bury his jism deep within me. I heard his cries of release. When he cried my name, I felt my body respond to his primeval quest and I felt pussy orgasm around his flesh. He cried as my love tunnel encased him, pulsing with a life that milked his prick of everything that he might have thought about holding back. As I held him trapped above me, my back arched into the mattress offering my body as a sacrifice to our mutual lust.

Although minutes passed, I felt that the two of us were totally amazed by the complexity of the simple act we had just shared. He rolled off to one side, but I kept him trapped deep within me. My leg circled around one side of his waist while my other leg I placed at the top of his thigh. He looked at me and I looked at him. I smiled a slow smile and he responded with the same. We started kissing again, but instead of the insistency of passion it was the slow wet kisses shared occasionally with the right person in after play. With his cock still in me and his hands lightly playing with one tit, we kissed lightly, deeply and for a very long time. Eventually, when I felt his prick leave my pussy with a wet trickle, he eased up long enough for me to move my leg down and beside his. I leaned my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat change from the rapid fire staccato of sex to the slow sensual beat of relaxation. I fell asleep in his arms.

A little while later, I opened my eyes to see Phillip watching me. "Took a little nap, huh?" he asked. I dropped my eyes, demurely, as if I had a secret. "I have been watching you. Did you know that you snore?" he asked. "How romantic!" I replied. "Just one of those things you ought to know," he lightly quipped. "Stay here just a minute," as he slung his legs around the bed and stepped out of the room. I enjoyed the view of his bare ass as he strolled out of the room. I rolled onto my stomach and stretched my limbs. I felt sticky from the cum, but coupled with the relaxation that inevitably accompanies a great bout of fucking, I was just fine.

Phillip came back, his penis resting from our bout of lovemaking, our juices still glistening on the head. "Why don't we enjoy a shower?" he asked. I threw the covers back and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm game!" I replied. I stood up to see Phillip staring at my frame. I know my shortfalls as well as my good points and it was the first time in a long, long time that I had allowed a man the luxury of a morning view of my body. "Like what you see?" I couldn't resist asking. "Immensely," Phillip replied, "your body is a wonderful compliment to your great imagination in bed. How did we manage this?" "Just guess that we were both in the 'right frame' of mind," I answered. "Let's take that shower," Phillip led the way.

As he leaned over to start the shower, I gazed at the length of his legs and the shape of his backside. He had a wonderful curve to his gluts and I enjoyed the view. "Hot or cold?" he asked. Startled out of my naughty thoughts about his wonderful ass, "Warm, unless we are going to enjoy more bed sport where I guess we need to make it hot." "Hot it is," he commented and the steam began to fill the room.

I watched as the mirror over the sink slowly drift out of focus as the steam formed condensation over the top half of the mirror. Phillip had already entered the shower and I followed him into the steaming, heated pulses of water that cascaded over his body. I hugged his body to me as I joined him under the flow. The heat scalded my skin as I licked the ribbons of water from Phillip's back. He had very little hair on his back, less hirsute than I imagined. The smoothness of his skin was soothing to the taste and I continued to lick up his spine and nibble at his shoulder blades. He drew my hands from around his waist and cupped them to his chest and I leaned my head to listen to his heartbeat. We stood in the shower stream for a couple of minutes when Phillip turned and faced me. As the water wet our hair and ran down our faces, Phillip cradled me in his arms and I grew slowly cold as the steam warmed our bodies, but his protected my body from the water. He broke the embrace long enough to grab the soap and work it between his hands into a creamy lather.

Phillip proceeded to use his hands as a washcloth, sensually running their length up my chest to encircle my breasts. His fingers lightly touched the crescent shaped scars that hugged my breasts. He murmured his delight in their weight and feel. Massaging each, while gently running his fingers over their erect areola, he seemed excited, as the nipples grew even larger and more distended at his touch. I felt my spirits soar at his touch and I felt the beginnings of desire invade my blood. It was hard to tell if my skin blushed in the telltale stain of pre-orgasmic desperation because the heat of the shower caused my skin to take on a rosy glow. As he gently ground his hips into mine, I felt his prick start to nudge me between the juncture of my thighs, our bodies molding together like a mixture of oil and water, both elements separate but when combined become as a single entity.

Although his hands had not left my breasts, my hands pulled him closer and as he continued to slowly stroke my tits, I pulled his head to mine and I engaged Phillip in a slow, intimate kiss. Although I did not invade his mouth, I found it erotic to slowly kiss and nibble at his lips. Phillip moaned into my mouth and allowed me to take his mouth, over and over again. There are some that perform kissing simply as a perfunctory foreplay requirement for women. Phillip was more than happy to allow me to drink from his lips all the passion that he had for me there. His prick responded to the kissing by becoming even more rampant and Phillip began rolling my hips gently into his. My hands dropped from his neckline to encircle his waist and I dropped my eyes to watch the beauty of his body press into my heated eager flesh. He smiled down at me and dropped his hands to my waist. We just looked at each other and at our private treasures and gave into the desire manifested there.

Phillip turned me around, bent me at the waist and guided my hands to the shower wall. I felt his body positioning itself behind me as I waited in eager anticipation for our bodies to become one. As he lazily spread my legs wider to allow him better access, I whimpered my excitement with low tones. As I begged him to enter me, I felt Phillip's hands steady him by grasping my waist. His single thrust was swift and sure. As he picked up speed in his thrusts, I could only imagine the view. From his vantage point, he could watch as his prick moved in and out of my flushed pussy. I felt one of his hands reach and grab a breast while the other maintained its position at my waistline. As Phillip kneaded my breast and I felt the warmth begin to infuse every part of me, I started to push back against his wonderful ride.

His strokes began to shorten and become more insistent and within me I felt my orgasmic rush begin. As I cried out, his hand dropped from its hold on my tit and he began to pump into me. The warmth of the room, coupled with the rush of the water and the smell of sex heightened the orgasm and I clenched to hold him within me. Phillip's groan melted into mine as his spurt began as my orgasm began to fade. He thrust deeply again and I contracted my womb around him, holding him, inhaling him, engulfing him.

Phillip leaned over me, his arms around my middle, almost lying on me; long enough to regain his composure and to give his body time to recover. As he withdrew, I stood straight up, my body slightly stiff from the position. As I turned around and looked at him, it was the smile on his face that I couldn't place. "You seem awfully pleased with yourself," I commented. Through his Cheshire grin, he replied, "That was a great fuck." "So glad that we were both satisfied," I responded, as I slapped his chest with a washcloth that had become somewhat cold.

"Let's finish this up before we run out of hot water," I reminded him. Both he and I lathered up and washed each other before we left the shower that had painted the mirror completely opaque.

Phillip handed me a green towel and I proceeded to towel off the best that I could. The room was cool and I noticed the number that we had done on the bedcovers; the sheet balled at the foot of the bed, the bedspread and blanket deposited on the side next to the window. As I thought about the events of the morning, staring at the bed, I felt Phillip behind me.

"Here," he said handing me a green terry robe. I put it on and was immediately assaulted with Phillip's scent. The robe reached my calves and the sleeves went past my hands. I rolled the sleeves up and hugged myself as the scent of Phillip slowly evaporated. In that brief minute it was like I was totally consumed by him. I was inside of him, warm and protected and there was a great satisfaction in the feeling. Watching Phillip slip on a pair of loose pants and a tee shirt, we seemed to be the perfect example of a couple of people that were going to bum Saturday away. I followed him to the kitchen where he started a pot of coffee.

Even now, the smell of coffee and the taste of really ripe cantaloupe makes my hand itch to pick up the telephone and book another flight directly to Phillip's wonderful waiting arms.


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