A Stroke of Moonlight

Is there anything better than an empty house? I'm enjoying a nice bottle of wine, curled up in bed, reading my book. I've read the same sentence 3 times now. My mind has been elsewhere all day. I put the book down with an exasperated sigh, and thinking back over the day, I can very safely say that it's all his fault! He's been putting thoughts in my head! Stupid boy! It's been almost 6 months now since I last had sex, and it's becoming more and more difficult to keep my mind on serious matters. I know that I should probably just give myself some relief, but it's just not that same. I want the build up, the feel and taste of cock in my mouth, the joy that I get with the explosion of cum deep within me. My orgasm is secondary. Always has been which might be why I don't just let myself go often, even on my own.

I need a cold shower. I pad to the bathroom, with our double shower and body jets, turn the shower towards cold and start it running. I peel off my nightie and my little pink french knickers and just enjoy the cool evening air wrapping itself around me. I have a sudden urge to phone him and demand a few hours of his time, but decide that a cool shower would probably help clear my head, and I can make that phone call afterwards.

I step into the shower, the cold water causing me to gasp and goose bumps to grace my entire body. Rather than distract my mind from thinking of him close against me, the cool pulse of the shower makes my pussy throb for attention. With the water dripping from my little hard nipples, I gently stroke my middle finger across my clit, gently parting my lips. Even this simple gesture brings a little sigh from my lips. I start to move my fingers around in small anticlockwise movements, just around my clit, before I've even registered what I'm doing. The hard, glowing feeling has just begun in the bottom of my tummy when I hear the doorbell. Slightly embarrassed, regardless of the empty house, I jump out of the shower, wrap myself in a towel and head down the stairs. Fully expecting to be able to resume my shower in a few minutes, I leave the shower running. I'll try it colder next time. That might help.

Throwing open the door, half hoping that it will be a salesman or a witness that I can embarrass with my appearance, I find myself staring at him. Him! Who had wound up to the point of nearly forcing me to let go in a cold shower, all by myself. I blink once, and then he is moving towards me. I step away from the door, allowing him in. No words have been exchanged, but he puts his hand in my hair, pulls me forward into a very deep kiss and closes the door.

Maybe if I hadn't already been wound so tight, I might've acted differently, but I let go of the towel and wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss him back, trying to tell him how I'm feeling, how much I need him right now. My towel is now trapped between us, and it's only when he pulls back from our embrace that it falls to the floor and I realise my mistake. His eyes flick down, and I quickly go to retrieve it, when he kicks it out of reach and pushes me against the wall and begins to kiss me again. The fabric of his jeans is rough against my skin, but that contrast in texture just makes me push harder against him. His hands are no longer on my waist, but on either side of me, using his body to pin me to the wall. I can feel him firm against my thigh, and a sound escapes me, close to a growl. However, the only way out of this particular position, is down. I let myself slide down the wall without warning, and find my hands undoing his button and fly and pulling down those jeans before my head registered what my next move was going to be. I think about it for a second and realise that this is exactly what I want. I free him from the restriction of his clothes and the hardness of him jumps out at me. I gently guide him around, so his back is against the wall, and lay a gentle kiss on the tip of him, enjoying the slight stickiness that is already there. My tongue ventures out to seek a taste of him. As soon as I've tasted him, I run my tongue around the top of him and take him as far into my mouth as I can and still be able to breathe. I can't take him all in, which upsets me, but I like to breathe more. Instead, I wrap my hand around his hard shaft and begin to stroke him as I suck him, moving my hand and mouth in time, running my hot tongue around him each time he is nearly out of me.

I can feel him beginning to harden and shake, and I pick of the rhythm and pressure of my mouth as his hands tangle in my hair and he shoves himself down my throat so hard, that it hurts. But I want to taste his cum so much that I fight my body's reaction to pull away, and hold him tight in my mouth which he pumps his seed down my throat. When I've swallowed all of his cum, he gently pulls on my hair and I return to my feet and his embrace once more. He kicks off his jeans completely, and I pull his t-shirt off, throwing it over the banister, and hold him close to me again. I remember the shower, and pull away. I still don't trust myself to speak, so I simply take his hand and lead him up the stairs. Entering the bathroom, I turn up the thermostat on the shower, and the room begins to fill with soft, warm steam. My pussy is so wet from tasting him, and now the steam is enveloping me, and I know that I might just go crazy if he doesn't touch me soon. He seems to read my mind, and we step into the shower together. The warm water is slick over both of us, and his hands are on my waist again. I love that feeling. It's so safe and strong. My back touches the back wall of the shower, and the cold tiles make me involuntarily jerk back. But he continues to push me towards it, and a shiver runs down my spine. His firm hands slip up my waist to cup my breasts, thumbs flicking at my nipples and I moan again. It feels like torture that he won't touch me where I so desperately need it.

His lips are caressing my neck; working their way down to the hollow of my collarbone, down, down, to take my right nipple between those teeth, giving it a squeeze, making me throw my head back. My pussy is soaking and I go to move my hand between my legs, but he catches my wrist and gives me a look that says I should probably stop trying to do it myself. My breath catches in my throat as I look into his eyes, feeling his hand travel down my stomach to rest just outside of my throbbing clit. He continues to look into my eyes and his fingers start to move in those exact same circles I had been doing to myself not long ago. As soon as he touches me, I know that I am in trouble. The orgasm that had just been sitting below the surface is building so rapidly that I can barely control it. He is still looking at me, and I have a brief moment of embarrassment at the thought of him watching me cum, before he plants his fingers firmly on my clit and moves in the smallest and quickest of circles and he brings me bucking and moaning loudly, back arched as my pussy contracts with wave after wave of pleasure. When I finally regain my breath, I open my eyes to see him still looking at me, and he is firm and at attention once more. I want to take him in my mouth again, but my pussy is being more demanding.

I step past him and out of the shower, intending to lead him to the bedroom when his hands are on my hips again, stopping me in my tracks and unbalances me slightly. In front of me are the steps to the bath, and I place my hands on the top step to steady me. I don't even have time to straighten up, when he forces himself inside of me. Even through my wetness, he has to push hard and deep to get all of him inside me, his hands pulling my hips back towards him. He pulls out of my slightly, and I almost feel a sense of loss when he's not filling me, and he thrusts into me again. He has more room this time and fills me completely. He finds his rhythm which is hard and deep and causes me to cry out with each stroke. My hand automatically moves to caress my clit, stroking downwards with each thrust, making my pussy start to tighten around him, and my legs to shake. I can feel him start to pick up the pace, and one of his hands is on my arse now, parting my cheeks as he pounds me. The other is gripping my hip so hard it causes waves of pain/pleasure throughout my body.

My orgasm is about to break, and my moans takes on a different level of urgency. With this change, he pushes so far into me that I know instinctively that he had been being gentle before. He pushes a finger into my arse and the pain reflex breaks my control and I cum again, my pussy contracting around his long, hot, rod that is no longer moving. He keeps himself pushed into me as far as he can, allowing the tightening and spasming of my pussy to work him. Just as my orgasm is starting to subside, he pulls out of me one last time and grinds himself into my sopping hole, cumming gloriously inside of me. Feeling his stickiness so deep inside me sparks the dieing orgasm and brings me into another screaming climax, forcing him to hold me tight while he pumps me full of him.

Once he has regained enough of his composure to stand, he towels himself off, and makes his way back down the stairs, leaving me in the bathroom, still trying to calm my breathing. By the time I feel that my legs might be able to support me down the stairs, I make me way down to the hallway. He is already dressed, and standing by the door. He gives me a gentle kiss and leaves.

It's not until I have gotten myself dressed that I receive a text from him.

"See you next week"

Damn! Now I need a cold shower!