tagLoving WivesHome-Coming

Home-Coming

byCFBwriter©

Finally. The end of the longest business trip and the longest time that I had ever spent away from my wife was coming to an end. OK, it was three weeks, nothing compared to the six or eight month deployments when I was in the Navy, but I was single then. It didn't seem so long.

As the airliner hurtled its way through the air, I reclined in my overly crowded seat and visualized bouncing my two pre-school daughters on my knees, and I smiled. My mind drifted to bouncing my wife on the bedsprings and the one-eyed snake in my pants stirred.

My wife is a very attractive woman by any objective standard, and a walking wet dream as far as I'm concerned. I'm convinced she could have been a Playboy model if she had wanted to be. She is intelligent, self-confident, and loves being a wife and mother. My income is sufficient to allow her not to work.

She maintaines her body and appearance because she wants to, not as an obsession. She once told me that her body was her ongoing gift to me and she wanted it to be the best gift she could create. After that, I started working out regularly, which has paid us both additional dividends.

The snake was becoming distinctly restless; I dropped one hand into my lap, but I couldn't really do much. Besides, I wanted to save all my energy for tonight.

Sexually, my wife was always there, always the lover. Again, not obsessive or demanding, just willing and even eager. She was open to suggestion and trying new things, and many times didn't wait for me to make the suggestion. For her, sex was always happy and playful. Every night she wanted to at least cuddle and fall asleep in my arms. When we first became lovers, she only had a single "twin" bed and we both liked the physical closeness that forced when I slept over.

For our first anniversary, she had taken a couple nude Polaroid's of herself for me to carry on my trips. I enjoyed them so much, they had became an annual tradition, using a local professional photographer, and I kept the complete collection in a leather bound binder at home. I went through that more often than I did my wedding album,a nd was convinced she was bocoming more beautiful with each year. Right now, I could feel the heat against my thigh from the small copies in my wallet.

When I was on the road we talked on the phone every night. I had become somewhat obsessive about it, in fact. Occasionally, one of us would steer the subject toward how badly we needed the other, and we would have phone sex. I always knew it would be one of those nights when just the sound of her voice would cause "the snake" to start squirming. It was hardly very satisfying, but if we were going to masturbate anyway, I liked sharing even that.

My need was getting demanding now, so I forced my thoughts away from her. I knew she would be picking me up at the airport, as she always insisted on doing when I was gone more than a couple days. The drive home allowed us to catch up before the chaos of home hit us.

A few hours later, the plane was at the gate. I waited impatiently for the front of the plane to empty, then grabbed my carry-ons and headed down the long aisle. As I emerged into the concourse, I looked around eagerly.

There she was; a splash of sunshine in an otherwise dreary afternoon. She wore a short-skirted, yellow, button-all-the-way-down-the-front sun-dress, and spike heels. She smiled as I walked up to her, placed one arm around her waist, and kissed her hard. In those shoes, she was already on tip-toe and she discretely ground her mons Venus into my groin. There was fire in her eyes, and I almost lost myself.

We walked out, hand in hand, chatting. We continued chatting as we went through the familiar routine of ransoming our car and heading for home. Suddenly I realized that she was slowing and turning into the parking lot of a local "B&B" hotel. She parked, smiled at me, and said "Come on!"

I looked at her quizzically and asked "The girls?"

"In good hands, and with no concept of how long it should take mommy to pick up daddy. Come on, time's wasting!"

She walked me directly through the lobby and down the hall. The key was in her free hand and she quickly ushered me into our room. It was nicer than the rooms I got to stay at, with a large bed, an overstuffed chair, and a gas fireplace with a fire already going. I also noticed that the drapes were pulled against the afternoon sun, and there was a bottle of wine on ice with two goblets.

She turned to me, her entire face one happy, delighted, smirk. I did my best to wipe the smirk off her face with a deep, passionate, hard kiss. She gave back as good as she got, and the smirk was replaced with a look of hunger when we broke. "Why don't you pour us some wine?" she suggested, somewhat breathlessly. I would have preferred to rip her dress off, but wanted to see how her scene would play out.

As I fussed with cutting off the foil, pulling the cork, and pouring, she wrapped her arms around my waist from behind, undid my belt and zipper, and quickly slid both slacks and boxers down my legs. She adeptly undid my shoe laces, and helped me step out of it all.

As I finished pouring the second glass, I felt her hands sliding up my sides and barely put down the wine in time to raise my arms as she lifted my Polo shirt off over my head. I picked up the two filled glasses again and turned to face her, chuckling at the fact that she had stripped me naked so quickly, while she was still dressed and un-mussed.

She took her glass. I raised mine and said "Thank you"; we touched glasses and took a sip. She closed her eyes as she tasted the wine, but also puffed out her chest and wiggled it just a little.

When hit over the head hard enough, I can take a hint. I started unbuttoning her dress as quickly as I could with my free hand. She took another sip and leaned forward to kiss me, being careful not to interfere with my hand. It seemed to take forever, but I finally unbuttoned the dress and slid it off one shoulder as she shrugged it off the other. The dress fell to the floor. To my surprise, though, I was not holding warm woman-flesh, but something silky.

I leaned back, keeping my hand on her. She was wearing a transparent "baby doll", a tan color, almost the same as her tanned skin, what women call "taupe". Once again she was smirking. Once again, I kissed the smirk away. In the process I explored a bit and discovered the panties had ribbon ties on the sides, at her hips. I started grabbing for the ends of the ties with both hands, almost spilling my wine, and she pulled away.

"Oh-oh! Someone's in a hurry!" she teased as she swished away from me, watching me over her shoulder. I had already pulled out one slip-knot, and the other pulled out as she moved away. The panties fell away, hanging from my hand with the forgotten glass of wine.

At the overstuffed chair across from the fire, she sat down on the floor and patted the floor next to her for me to join her.

After fetching the wine bottle, I sat leaning on the chair, and she leaned with her back against me. The fire was comfortably warm, and the wine cool. She stroked my leg lightly with her fingernails, leaving a trail of fire everywhere she touched. I cleared my throat, but she pressed a finger to my lips before I could speak.

I wound one arm over her shoulder and cupped a breast with my hand, she slipped a hand between my thighs, and we just cuddled, staring into the fire.

About when I felt he couldn't stand it any longer, she started to move her hand on my legs again. I rolled toward her, slipping a hand under the baby-doll. I explored that familiar and always new territory of her belly and up to her breasts. She tilted her head back, and I kissed her gently, brushing my lips against hers, running my tongue over her lips, teeth and tongue.

The cuddling had calmed me down without putting out any fires, so I was able to be more tender and loving. Finally, I slid my hand down over her mons Venus, sliding a single finger between her labia and down just into the vaginal opening. Her whole body tensed as the wave of pleasure swept outward from her pussy.

She maneuvered herself so that her face was over my shaft while I could still cup her pussy. Instead, I leaned over so my face was next to her bush. She slid her tongue up and down the snake, and then slid her mouth over it.

I moaned and rubbed my face in her bush, breathing in her musk, but allowing myself to be the receiver for the moment. I didn't need any foreplay; I had had been at attention for some time, but I certainly enjoyed her pleasuring. She took her time, slowly stroking up and down the length of my shaft.

After a few moments, she stopped with the head resting against her lips. It was my turn, and I slid my face between her thighs, my nose initially parting her lips, followed by my mouth.

With a gentle circular motion, my lips and tongue spread her labia. I circled the inside of her vaginal opening, circled and flicked her hidden clit, and then did figure 8's around both. She needed no more foreplay than I did, but following her lead, I kept it slow and sensuous. She moaned, and slowly moved with me.

We traded off, back and forth, for several minutes. While the intent was to enjoy the moment rather than pushing ahead, we both inevitably became more and more aroused. She was having mini-orgasms every time I was active.

Finally, I could take no more, and sat back up. Our breathing was heavy and eyes slightly defocused. I helped her disentangle and she stood up. I kissed and nuzzled the bush in front of my face. As I stood, I slid my hands up her sides and lifted the baby-doll off over her head.

With gentle, suggestive, touches, she sat me back down on the edge of the chair. With her arms around my neck, she wrapped one leg at a time around my waist and behind my back. She held herself up, off my lap, and I rubbed the head of my cock to and fro between her labia, until she caught the snake at her opening and dropped down, engulfing it.

We both gasped. My legs were spread, and she raised her thighs to my sides and settled deeply into my lap. I held her buttocks. Her forehead touched mine and we sat still for a moment savoring the intense feeling of oneness. We synchronized our breathing, and then our movements: pulling back on the inhalation, thrusting forword on the exhalation. I pulled her to me until we were touching over the entire fronts of our bodies. The barrier of our skin seemed to melt away.

No words or direction were needed because we had been here before. I had learned this in a short article on Tantric practices, and we had never found a more intimate position. We used it on those special occasions when intimacy and connection were most important. It is really a meditation on our oneness. The controlled stimulation also allowed me to get control of my response once more.

We both lost any sense of time. In anticipation, she had hidden the clocks.

Some unknowable time later, I could feel my energy, attention, needs, whatever, shifting back from the spiritual and emotional connection to a purely physical need. My body was demanding release. I pulled my head back just a bit; she recognized the signal and our eyes met for a moment.

Then she kissed me very softly, her lips brushing against mine, her tongue playing lightly with my lips and tongue, as I had kissed her earlier. The kiss was a long one, and as aroused as I already was, new electricity ran up and down my spine.

After the kiss, she gripped me more tightly around the neck; I lifted her buttocks, shifted my feet, and stood with her wrapped around my torso, my cock still imbedded in her flesh. The covers had been pulled only half-way down the bed. I half lowered her and half fell across the bed next to the pillows.

We disentangled our arms and I propped myself up on my elbows as my hips started a long, slow, insistent thrust and withdrawal. I started playing with her breasts as if I had never seen them before.

She asked if I would like her to take the top for a bit, and I replied that it was too late for that. She smiled and started arranging her body under me for what was coming. She pulled a pillow part way under her hips and another under her head and shoulders. She spread her knees, ankles locked behind my knees. She wrapped her arms back around my neck again and whispered hoarsely in my ear "Then let’s ride!"

From an almost complete, slow, withdrawal, I dove into her as she rose to meet me. All the sexual energy and tension we had been so carefully setting aside and holding off exploded over us. "Yes-s-s-s!" she screamed as we collided, and that was the last conscious thing either of us did.

My hands clenched and massaged her breasts as my whole body tensed against the onrushing demands. Her pussy absorbed my avalanche of thrusts and gripped me in turn as a full orgasm exploded up through her body, triggering further convulsions along the way.

I vocalized each thrust, twisting and rocking my hips as I tried to dive even deeper. Another orgasm and another racked her body, blending one into the other.

I threw my head back and bellowed my sexual rage as the convulsions of my ejaculation started. My thrusts continued to pound into her as my convulsions crested and died off. My arousal was so high that the ejaculation had almost been incidental. I continued thrusting, and she continued to orgasm under me. I had a second orgasm, less intense than the first, and still continued to thrust.

Eventually, the rage subsided and my awareness started to return. I rolled so she lay on top of me and brought a leg up between her legs to hold me inside her as I continued to thrust, albeit with less ferocity. Her ongoing orgasms were becoming less intense as she, also, spent her accumulated sexual energy.

For the previous few moments, the only thing that had existed for each of us was our individual physical needs, symbiotically shared and satisfied. Now we were aware of each other again, and the needs again became mutual. She showered my face with kisses as I ran my hands lightly up and down her buttocks and back.

We caressed and kissed and thrust each other through the dying embers of the fire that had just consumed us. One final mini-orgasm shook her, and she collapsed on top of me. A last few slow thrusts and the exhausted snake slipped out of her, happy and satisfied. I continued running one hand up and down the wonderful curves of her back as I allowed myself to relax into the bed sheets.

She slept briefly, but I fought the desire. It could so easily be morning before we awoke! When a numb leg forced me to move, she awoke. She smiled very happily, stretched lazily aginst me, and our eyes locked for several moments. Nothing was said; there was nothing that could add to the moment. I love her so much!

She dragged herself and then me out of bed and to the shower. We showered together, but quickly and with only gentle love play. All too soon, we were back in the car and headed home.

Two months later she announced that she was pregnant again. It was a son, and she insisted on naming him after the hotel.

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