Caught

byBruno1027©

She cracked open his back door and entered on her tiptoes silently. Heels in her right hand, she traced a path along the wall for the light switch. It felt familiar and helped her find her place though she could not turn it on. The kitchen was black, illuminated only by the moon the shone through the window, casting a deep blue shadow on the wall opposite. The bag hanging from her wrist contained his favorite dish, chicken marsala made specially by her hands. Next to it lay a small tray of chocolate chip cookies, another favorite of his.

She felt a chill beneath her overcoat and remembered beneath it was only her lingerie, a lace garter set- another surprise for him. She grit her teeth as a shiver passed through her in the cold kitchen. Beneath the while lace of her bra her nipples swelled. Placing the bag on the kitchen table she carefully crept down the hall, her stocking feet making not a sound as she passed.

He had to cancel their plans due to overwork. She'd seen it before, his new position took a lot out of him and she'd rather he get his rest for the night than fall asleep on her like he did last week. They planned to spend Saturday together once he took Friday off.

She missed him, missed being near him. They had grown so close in the few months they'd been dating. She'd even been wondering if this one could go the distance. He had everything she ever wanted- he was cute, affectionate, understanding, sweet and make her feel flustered. Sometimes she felt like a such a girl around him. She swooned, resting against the dark hallway as she imagined him. He was an exquisite lover as well, with almost a precognition of what she wanted. He touched her exactly how she liked and knew her body better than she did herself. Nights she spent gripping his body to hers as she felt the heady rush he gave her. Unable to resist she would give up to him nightly as he took her willingly, draining her of every need, of every breath.

She could see the light beneath his door but heard him breathing deeply. Her ear to the doorframe, she thought of him sleeping and smiled to herself. It's late- almost two in the morning, of course he's exhausted, poor thing.

She loved to watch him sleep. Nights they'd spend together she'd curl up in his chest as his warm breath soothed her. He had a scent all his own, a comforting, light scent, masculine and sexy. She loved waking up covered in his scent. After they'd make love he would lie bare beside her, his recovering penis resting happily on her thigh. She'd bury herself between his shoulder and neck and cover his heated skin with kisses. She flushed thinking about it. It's been so long since they had that.

His body was so perfect for her, she yearned for it again. If only she could just see it, that would be enough for now. She'd make her way out and return late tomorrow morning to spend the day with him.

Hesitantly she inched the door open. She held her breath and was thankful it made not a sound. The room was bathed in light and it took her a moment to focus her sight. He was sprawled across his king size mattress, the cover sheet only covering below his left knee. His legs were opened, his knees bent. As she watched she saw his body quivering slightly, the long muscles in his thighs tensing. A pillow was folded behind his neck, propping his face up slightly. His eyes were closed as if in deep concentration and his lips parted slightly. She could almost see the quick breaths coming from his mouth. His chest was rigid and his arms draped over them, almost crossing at his crotch.

She gasped as she realized what she was watching. He was gently running his curled hand up the rigid shaft of his cock. She eyed it adoringly, long and thick, it filled his palm completely. How she adored that part of him. It always felt so wonderful embedded to her, relieving all her wants. Now it seemed to pulse with a life of it's own, working in tandem with his left hand. His rounded head was a deep pink and flared with each stroke. His other hand playfully gripped his balls, jostling them and rolling them between his fingers. She made a mental note to remember this next time they were alone.

What drew her in was not just his body, sleek and muscular spread out on his bed, but the intensity he showed. He seemed completely immersed in what he was doing. His body roiled, shook and stretched. Every muscle seemed to be working in concert for the one purpose of bringing him pleasure. She thought back to her Art History class Freshman year and the sculpture of David she studied, how Da Vinci made reams of sketches of the human body outstretched and posed, such a perfectionist. She could only see how he resembled those bare sketches, a perfect example of the male body in motion. And his face! Such gleeful pleasure, unaware of all but himself, in nirvana. How she longed to be the cause of such an expression.

She eyed his crotch hungrily. His cock, that which she had loved and been loved by, the cock she whispered to and rested her cheek on when she slept seemed more alive than she'd ever seen. He knew it so intimately and played himself like a fine instrument. It looked almost feral, what he was doing, yet it seemed so blissful. She knew she had come upon something she was not meant to see, something she must never mention, nor forget.

His mouth opened and she saw his eyes flutter beneath his lids. She wanted to go and kiss him, take his mouth in hers at this special moment but she couldn't move. Her nails dug into the doorframe. She couldn't look away if she tried. With a deep, grateful moan his body seemed to relax. A moment passed before his shaft swelled to his fullest and his thick come shot from its head, splattering his chest. She counted two...three...four...five spurts before it slowed, the liquid running down his shaft and between his fingers.

Her entire body tingled and she had to make an effort to step back. She gently closed the door and she willed her body to move. What she had seen had made her speechless. Her mouth drooped open and her head swam with questions and feelings. How often? What does he think about? What should I do? Most of all she was driven by the idea of his complete pleasure. He seemed so happy, so fulfilled by this one solitary act. It pleased her.

She knew she would have trouble sleeping tonight so she pledged to call him in the early afternoon after she had gotten a good rest. One thing's certain; he would be in her dreams tonight and many nights after, wantonly pleasuring himself.

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byBruno1027© 6 comments/ 103401 views/ 14 favorites

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