tagRomanceI LOVE Working Late

I LOVE Working Late


I HATE working late. As I near our quiet street, I'm in a terrible mood. My mind is over-tired, the problems still swirling inside. They won't go away. There is a horrible taste in my mouth. Too much caffeine, too much coffee, too many vending machine snacks. The traffic from the game getting out made me even later than usual and my knuckles white, clutching the steering wheel.

Thanks god I don't smoke, that would only make it worse now. I used to, but you asked me to stop the first day I met you, the first night I had you. I have never touched tobacco again. Giving it up was hard at first, of course. But easy compared to the thought of losing you, even displeasing you. That is the unthinkable. Now I can't even stand to be around it, the smell vile and repulsive to me.

As I turn into our street, I relax a bit, seeing our house is dark, not even an outside light. As I knew it would be. It's only a little after nine, on a normal night you would still be up and so would I. But never when I call to tell you I have to work late.

I turn into to the drive very slowly, letting the car almost coast to a stop. I shut my eyes, putting my head to the wheel for a moment. When I lift it again, my head is clear. I LOVE working late!

I open the door slowly and carefully, setting each foot softly on the drive. After pushing the door slowly shut, so it latches with barely a click, I walk to the house in the grass next to the walk, avoiding the grating sound of the cement. Each foot is placed carefully on the steps, and I pause between each movement. I ease the screen open and find the front door ajar, as I knew it would be. Once inside I leave it unlatched.

I pull my shoes off and leave them in the hall, feeling the deep carpet under my feet. It mutes my footsteps as I pad into the downstairs bath, where I close the door silently, then quietly turn on the water, just enough so I can wash the day off my face. And I swirl the sweet rinse in my mouth, ridding it of the nasty tastes and smells. I slowly undo my tie, unbutton my shirt and take it off, hanging it on the hook behind the door. My T-shirt follows. Then my pants and socks. I leave only my briefs on, straightening them and adjusting myself inside them.

Gently I ease out the door and over to the stairs, slowly and carefully ascending. I can see the yellow glow, which I know emanates from the open door of our room. It is steady now, nothing but your breath disturbing the air. But I know that soon it will flicker, making gentle patterns on the wall. I ease my way through the door frame, seeing the candle, as always, in the far corner, its direct light shielded from the bed. The entire room is illuminated by the softest glow, getting slightly brighter as my eyes adjust.

There is a faint but unbearably delicious, sweet smell in the room. It could be fruit, or spices. But I know. It is you. You started hours ago, after I called, slipping into a deep warm bath into which you mixed some magical potion which gradually imparted it's scent to you as you steeped in the heat and wetness. Perhaps you played with yourself a bit, thinking of me. I hope so. Stroking your breasts, pulling gently on your nipples, trailing your fingers gently along your inner thighs. As I know you hoped I would do soon. Perhaps you even slipped a finger inside yourself, probing gently. But I know you went no further, saving the delicious ending for our mutual pleasure.

I move to the foot of the bed. The covers are turned down. You are on display for me. As I knew you would be. Your eyes are closed, and you don't move. Perhaps you are asleep. Perhaps not. Most likely, I will never know. My eyes drink greedily, starting at your toes and traveling, oh, so very slowly, up your legs and over your body. I know you are wearing thin, soft, filmy bikini panties, but they are almost invisible. The soft curves of your hips and thighs make me shudder as my eyes creep across them.

I devour your breasts, the dark nipples soft and flattened now, but round and beautiful. Even on your back, your breasts are round, firm and full. My breath is catching, and I almost gasp aloud. You have displayed your long chestnut hair on the pillow for me. As I knew it would be. A giant swirl around your head.

Slowly and quietly, I move to the side of the bed, still staring. You are even more beautiful to my eyes from this vantage, and I am not inclined to break my gaze. But I can feel the relentless swelling in my briefs. My breathing is much deeper now, almost ragged. The candle has started to flicker gently.

How shall I wake you, signal I am with you? I could bend and suck lightly on your toes. Or run my fingertips softly up your thigh, barely touching. Perhaps my palm slowly swiped across your stomach. Or even cupping your pantied pussy, oh so gently. My mouth salivates at the thought of a kiss to one of those soft, round nipples, and I savor the thought of how they would crinkle and harden instantly with the awareness of my touch. I could even reach and grasp your breast softly in my warm hand, squeezing it gently. Luxuriating in its fullness and firmness.

But I make the same choice I have always made. I bend and carefully press my lips to yours, letting my tongue slide along them to announce my arrival. In a moment, you moan, so deep and so softly I feel it through my lips, rather than hear it. And your lips part. Your tongue sliding barely through to wet them.

But of course it is captured by mine, and they slide into my mouth together, caressing, playing. I put a knee and a hand on the bed to steady myself as our kiss deepens. Your hand moves to the side of my face, gently holding me still as we savor each other's taste.

The kiss becomes more passionate, lips and tongues grinding, our wet moans now audible. At last it becomes unbearable, and when your hands move to my sides, I lower myself slowly to you. My hands and arms sliding around you, ever tightening as you feel my weight. I roll to the side, pulling you with me and against me, our legs intertwining as we struggle to press against each other, not wanting the smallest bit of skin excluded from the exquisite pleasure of each other's touch.

Our hands move, slowly, gently at first, over each others bodies, caressing, teasing. But the feelings quickly become more urgent, and our bodies and our hands grind against each other, pressing, pulling, squeezing. We are rocking, rolling back and forth, totally unable to be still against the excruciatingly sweet waves of pleasure traveling back and forth between our bodies.

Our grip upon each other loosens slightly, just enough to allow our hands to slip between our bodies, searching for our treasures. Your hand finds my cock, encased in soft cotton, and I groan with pleasure, and relief, after waiting so long and wanting so much. My left hand finally closes over the breast it has been aching for and my right slides over the soft, satiny covering of your sex. Our lips lock once again and as your hand begins to move on me, stroking up and down, I moan deeply, contentedly, into your mouth. My fingertips slide over your barely shielded pussy, teasing, caressing. My hand squeezes you, kneading your breast as the fingertips capture the nipple and gently squeeze and pull. Your soft cries and gasps fill my ears on their way to filling the room. The candle brightens and the light wavers back and forth.

You roll away from me, onto your back, giving me license to ravage your body in any way I desire. I resist taking immediate, total possession, and lean over you gently, taking one more delicious kiss from your lips. I love how it makes you squirm, and your hips roll, even though my hands are not touching you now. I speak the first words, my only words. "I love you." Barely whispered, hoarsely slipping through my lips.

My lips cover one of the rock hard, pebbly nubs of your breasts. I kiss, suck tenderly, but quickly must have more of you, my mouth engulfing as much as it can hold. My tongue circles, grinds, making you wet and slippery. My lips tighten, squeeze, knead, and your back arches, pressing against my mouth in the hope I will consume even more.

My hand slides slowly down your stomach and slips under the tiny bikini, so saturated now with your juices. I run a finger down each side of your lips, slowly, till my hand is between your legs. Then my fingers come together and glide slowly back up the crease between those slick, smooth, slippery folds. Down again, and then I press harder, my fingers getting coated with your slippery juices as they slide deep and stroke up and down. Now you hips have their turn, and lift your pussy against my hand, straining, wanting more of me. I allow first one finger, then two to slide into your depths, slowly penetrating until my hand is pressed against you. Your hips roll again, hoping for even more!

As I slowly stroke my fingers in and out of you, my teeth find the tender nipple and imprison it, trapping it in their stony grip. My tongue grinds against the tip and I lift my head, pulling, stretching your tender flesh. For my efforts I receive only a moan of pure pleasure, and your hips start rolling hard, thrusting your pussy to match my strokes, fucking yourself on my hand. Your head is back; your eyes are closed, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

My greatest pleasure is seeing, hearing and feeling your total satisfaction, and I redouble my efforts, fingers pistoning in and out of you as my tongue grinds, swirls, presses, and my lips squeeze and pull. Your little high pitched cries signal you are on the brink, and my teeth pulling once again send you over the top. Your body convulses, thrashing, squirming, your hips lifting high into the air again and again as the pleasure of your orgasm rolls through you. My hands run over your body, my lips kiss everywhere, as we both enjoy your total release.

Even when you body quiets, your chest heaves as you gasp, trying to catch your breath. There is a light sheen of moisture on your body now, highlighted by the shimmering candlelight. There is a lovely smile on your face. Once again we kiss, and I feel your hand on me.

You push yourself away from me, up onto your knees, and quickly slip your sopping panties off. You tug at my briefs, and I help you slide them down my legs, destined for the floor. You kneel by my hip, and I love the look of total lust on your face as you grasp me and squeeze. First you kiss, then lick your way up and down my shaft, and it hardens into steel in your hand. Your eyes never lose contact with mine as your lips slide over my swollen head, and I love the wet sounds as you suck contentedly. Your hand is sliding up and down the lower half of me as your mouth engulfs the upper half. Your tongue is roaming over me, slathering my shaft with your thick, slippery saliva. When your head starts moving up and down, I moan and stretch, my hips rolling in time with you. You slide your mouth off me momentarily, your teeth lightly grazing my shaft, teasing me.

When you slide over me again you push harder, taking more of me, and I put my hands on your head, gently urging you on. I tangle my fingers in your soft, wonderful hair, loving the sight of my beauty with my cock in her mouth. I feel you force me into your throat, and though I hear you gag slightly, you do not stop. With a little pressure from my hands, you slide all the way down, your lips nestled in my pubic hair. Your eyes are locked on mine, and you are content to hold me there, trying to swallow me, until my hands release you. You come up slowly, no trace of panic, and as your lips slide off of me, your mouth dripping saliva, you break into a wonderful smile. I know you are proud of yourself, but you will never be as proud as I am of you. You dive down again, this time taking all of me in one quick gulp, and quickly bob your head up and down with short fast thrusts, your lips smacking against my body with each one. My eyes close, my head goes back, my buttocks lift off the bed, and I let out a shuddering groan of combined agony and ecstasy. I manage to catch myself, teetering on the edge, but I know I cannot let you do that again.

My hands gently pull your hair, forcing you to release me, and you do so, reluctantly. I know you would be content to swallow me until your throat was raw. I reach down and grab you by the arms and in one swift motion, pull your body up over me, until our eyes are inches away from each other. I grab your head and pull your lips to mine in a rough grinding kiss, the depth of my passion leaving no room for tenderness. My tongue is almost in your throat.

When I finally release you, your head goes back and you stare down into my eyes, gasping. You say loudly, "Fuck me! Make me totally, eternally yours! Again!" The candle threatens to go out for a moment.

"Fuck me!" I must have heard that from your lips a thousand times! And at this moment it is the most exciting thing I have ever heard. Indeed, I have certainly fucked you thousands of times. In every place, in every position, at every time. Sometimes in the most loving circumstances, as now. Sometimes after angry disagreements. Sometimes to forget sorrows and misfortunes. But, I realize, I have NEVER fucked you!

I wrap my arms around you and in one quick motion, flip you over on your back, almost body slamming you onto the bed. Before you can open you eyes I am between your legs, lifting them to my shoulders. My mouth is on the flesh of your inner thighs, licking, kissing, nipping, then biting! My passion is almost out of control! But the only sounds you make are moans of pure pleasure! I press forward against your legs, hovering over you, staring down.

My cock is rock hard, and in my hand, and your eyes are riveted on it. I slide it over your pussy, then beat it lightly against your lips. In response, your hips lift up to me. Your body is gyrating under me, asking me, daring me to ram myself into you. And I take the challenge. I press myself against you, quickly finding the opening, and in one swift motion of my hips you are impaled on me! You try to muffle the squeal, but fail, and I grind myself against you for just a moment, my coarse hair mixing with your soft thatch. I feel your hips lift against me, and know you are ready. You are so tight, but dripping wet, and I love the sensation of your body gripping me. I start sliding in and out of you, pulling back almost to the tip, then pushing hard till I am buried to the hilt again.

You grunt but rock in time with each thrust, meeting me, forcing me deeper. I release your legs from my shoulders, letting you spread your legs wider, bending at the knees, feet on the bed. Now you have the leverage you need, and you begin to ram yourself against me. I start fucking you harder, faster, the loud slapping of our bodies beating out the time to our lovemaking. We are both breathing hard now, breath coming in long gasps, and the perspiration dripping from my chin runs down your breasts, merging with the shiny wetness of your body. Your hands reach for my hips and you urge me to give you more. You are making high pitched, breathless, crying sounds, music to my ears and inspiration for my tiring body. I pound into you even harder and the bed is moving under us, rocking back and forth, headboard tapping the wall. I am shuddering, head back, eyes closed. I am well beyond the point of no return, but gritting my teeth, determined you will be first.

I am rewarded, as you give a sudden screech, your entire body except for shoulders and ass lifting off the bed, writhing in mid-air. A split second later, I give in, pumping, spurting, emptying my seed into you, a low growl forcing itself through my lips and going on and on, getting louder. Your body is pumping up and down uncontrollably, and I am bucking, grinding against you. My hands have a vise grip on your hips, keeping you locked in place, my cock keeping your tunnel filled as you contract around it. I can feel the warm wetness of our juices spilling over, running out of you and down our bodies. The candle is extinguished.

I fall onto the bed, gathering you in my arms, listening to the wonderful sounds you are making. We kiss softly, then hard, then over and over and over. We can't be still, and our bodies rock back and forth, needing to hold on to each other to regain some control. We both have tears, but there is no sadness, except, perhaps that it is over. But we know, it will never be over.

Before you, I had several women, college girls, bar pick-ups, even a hooker or two. I fucked them all - with abandon. In our years together, you have asked me to fuck you a thousand times, perhaps a thousand and one now, and I have certainly fucked you thousands of times.

But I have NEVER fucked you! Not since the first night of the first day we met. We knew then as we know now. We could not possibly fuck in the sense that I did with all the others. Together, we have made wonderful, passionate LOVE, renewing our union and our bonds each time, seeing all issues and problems between us disappear. I will die without ever having fucked you.

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