Coffee, made with love

Our rhythm grew, as did the magical sensations, Miranda placing a hand on my chest. Our eyes locked again, and she was no longer smiling, now breathing through her lips, her eyes glazed. I knew she was building, and I knew how to move her. Still, she commanded me between breaths to go "Harder, right there, yes that's it, so good, oh, gosh, yes..."

I moved her, sensations surging along my cock-nerves, feeling her around me, she feeling me, my shaft-end finding her regions of pleasure, our rhythm set now. We could last for some time in this state of bliss and connectedness, riding the crest of the pleasure wave but not plunging over yet.

Miranda and me loving in the wondrous zone we'd discovered long ago, her eyes widening, still on mine, her lips parted, breathing hard. Her beauty undeniable and I adored her, whispering, "I love you."

"Oh, Todd, I love you too. I love what you're doing to me, oh, please."

"You're magic, my gorgeous one."

"Oh, my," she replied, quiver in her voice, taking in breath, her hand on my chest gripping harder, and then an involuntary squeak from her mouth, her lips beginning to form the shape of a big O.

When she made involuntary noises I knew she was fast approaching the edge, the point of no return, and would very soon plunge into orgasmic pleasure release, hopefully together at the same time.

"Oh, gosh, Todd, oh, my sweetness."

"Oh, Miranda, my love."

We moved, we loved, the feelings of connection growing to a crescendo between us, a huge ball of sensation within and without, surrounding us, suddenly releasing, exploding, both of us pulsating, throbbing, juices flowing, loving, her eyes flickering, groans and moans of pleasure escaping from lips, and words of adoration from mine.

Miranda, my wife, was beautiful, our bodies and soul wound tightly together, producing the most intensely indescribable pleasure, for each other. And nothing else in the whole world mattered.

~0~