Jump You

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I have wanted you since I walked in the door of this apartment.
I have wanted to feel your arms around me and your lips on me.
I want you in a carnal way, but I am shy, and not sure how to say it.
I need you, all of you, if only for an evening, just to remind both of us that we are wanted human beings, so worthy of love and lust.
I feel you come up behind me at the stove, a fantasy that you are unaware of, but quickly fulfilling.
You press your body to mine, leaning down to whisper in my ear, as my head falls to its side.
You suck on my neck, making me moan your name, as I try desperately to finish making dinner.
Your hands leave me panting for more, as you lightly explore my body. Seldom have I felt so worshipped.
As you pull me to you, I can feel your arousal, a happy sign that I was hoping would be there.
I carefully slip my hand in your pants, caressing you for the first time. You half grunt, half moan your approval.
Somehow in all of this, I manage to not burn dinner. So we eat in happy, seductive, silence.
Once dinner is done, (of which I have eaten very little), you take away the dishes and set up the living room for our extracurricular activity.
You close the blinds, and I take on the pose of a submissive, a pose in which I am fairly comfortable, though we have not discussed those terms.
You turn to see me, in a sun dress, kneeling, head bowed, hands in lap, and you make the best noise yet that evening. One of approval and arousal.
Then you say, "Not yet my dear. We still need to explore each other first." Yet again, I love you for that.
You take my hand and bring it to your now bare chest, and encourage me to play there. I do, marveling at how soft your skin is.
You continue your ministrations to my neck, eliciting sounds from me that are primordial in nature.
Slowly clothes are discarded, and our soft, squishy, wonderful bodies, find each other.
So much caressing and kissing leading to the moment that I am dreading. Actual intercourse.
I have always been told that I am a wonderful lay, but most of that has been by my husband.
So I am nervous, but highly aroused. I WANT this to happen. I want to be that girl for you.
So I saunter over and drop to me knees, taking your penis in my hands, and then my mouth, in hopes that this can make up for anything I may be lacking in the intercourse department.
You seem pleased; to the loss of words. I am ecstatic.
After a few minutes you slowly push me onto my back, and fish out a condom. Another sexy point achieved!
Then we have sex, which is fun and interesting, and has me giggling. Because if you can't giggle at sex, what can you giggle at?
My young man says that he has had fun when all is said and done. That makes me exceptionally happy.
He cuddles me, and kisses me, for what seems like hours. It is a nice change, for both of us I think.
When it comes time to pack up, he helps me find my clothes, and is soft and gentle with me, almost instinctively knowing that I need that.
He holds my hand as he walks me out to my car. Kissing me with those velvety lips one more time. Leaving me wanting more. Leaving me dreaming of him.
I hope that it happens again soon. It feel great to be wanted and lusted after and loved and cared for in all of those ways.
I want him to know that he is a fantastic lay and I would jump his bones again in a heartbeat.
I want him to know that he is desired too. That he is loved, even if it scares him.

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