Naked Moonlight

The house was shrouded in sleepy silence as he slid his key into the apartment door. Inside, it was dark, only the moonlight roughly outlined the place.

She'd gone to bed already. Well, already. He had sort of expected it. It was the middle of the night. Still, he felt a pang of disappointment, missed her happy face and her arms flinging themselves around his neck to welcome him home.

He put his bag down and went straight into the bathroom to brush his teeth, wash his face. He just wanted to sleep, lie next to her, breathe her in.

Quietly, he opened the door to the bedroom and slipped in. There she was. Sprawled across the whole bed, naked on her back, illuminated by the moonlight, not tolerating the slightest piece of cloth to touch her in this hot summer night.

His eyes slowly wandered up and down her body. Her peaceful, sleeping face, the hollow at the base of her neck, the collarbones sticking out a little, the soft curves of her heavy breasts, the muscly stomach, the hip bones, the tuft of pubic hair, her legs slightly parted. He wanted to touch her, trace the lines his eyes had drawn with his fingers. She was a light sleeper though -- the moment he'd touch her she would wake up. But then her upper half was on his side of the bed anyway.

He walked over to the bed and sat down on his side, his lower back almost touching her waist. The added weight on the mattress woke her and sleepily, without opening her eyes, she brushed her hand over his back and then scooted over to her side. Not what he had wanted.

"Come back here..." he said quietly, so as not to overwhelm her sleepy senses, and stretched out his hand to caress her arm.

She hummed contently and rolled over towards him, now on her belly. He ran his hand over her back, slowly, following the content noises she made. He let his hand run further down, over the curve of her firm, soft butt, down the backside of her thighs, and back up. Then back down again, the small of her back, her butt cheek, down, down, his fingertips dangerously close to her vulva -- a quiet moan slipped out of her and she canted her ass into his hand, urging his fingers to go further.

He felt his breathing deepen, his pulse quicken. He let his fingers brush against her lower lips and then drew his hand back over her butt, up her back, caressing her neck, then wandering to her side over the bit of boob that bulged out under her.

Her head turned towards him and she looked up into his eyes, definitely more awake now than before. He gave her a hint of a smile, too exhausted and horny for more. "You wanted me on my back." It was a statement.

Then she shifted and turned around to lie on her back and looked up at him with an expecting hunger that didn't do anything to mitigate his own growing need.

His hand rested on her neck, his thumb in the hollow at the base of it, then wandering down, over the mount of her left boob, palm brushing over her nipple, which earned him a needy moan from her. He repeated the action on her right boob and she drew in a sharp breath through her open mouth. Her hand had snuck onto his thigh, searching for his cock under his trousers, eventually finding the half-hard thing and starting to stroke it through the fabric.

He wanted her. He wanted her to writhe in pleasure beneath him, to moan at his touch, scream in ecstasy. He wanted to taste her.

Trying hard not to focus too much on her fingers rubbing up and down his shaft, he moved his hands down over her stomach towards her vulva, letting his fingers glide over her lips without any substantial pressure. She canted her hips into his hand. She wanted more. He let his hand move on over the insides of her thigh and back up, a moan from her, and back down the other thigh, a frustrated groan, then back up, this time guiding two of his fingers with a little pressure from her dam, over her slit, her clit, and back down. Her hips started rocking lightly into his hand. He directed his attention closer to her clit, drawing wider circles around it, slowly circling in on the sensitive spot.

Then going through the same motions again. And again. And again. She was a moaning mess now, her movements against his cock erratic. He sped up his circling motions and the rocking of her hips became desperate, the pitch of her moans increased, his erection straining painfully against his trousers. Then her body shook, her stomach spasmed, her head pressed back into the pillows as a scream of pleasure wrestled itself out of her throat. He pushed two fingers into her wet, velvety warmth, rubbing the fingertips against the sensitive spot he'd found out about some time ago, pumping in and out in a steady rhythm. Her fingers digging into his thigh, cramping in the sheets, her legs spreading further and further, rocking up to meet his fingers, seeking more, more friction. Every movement of his fingers produced a squelching sound. He removed them from her, strings of her juice linking his two digits. He sucked them clean.

Her eyes fluttered open as he lifted himself off the bed. He made quick work of undressing himself fully and then crawled on top of her, arms to both sides of her head, his leaking cock trapped between their bodies. Nose ahead, he dove for her neck, breathing in her sleep, her very own scent. She arched her head to the side to give him better access and he started kissing his way up from her neck, to her jaw, until his lips met hers in a heartbreakingly needy, loving, urgent kiss. He felt her arms wrap around his body, pulling him closer to her. Their tongues tangled, exploring each other's mouths, he could feel the wet of his own precum against his belly.

He reached down with one hand, grabbed himself and let his length glide through her slick folds several times. Her legs spread further for him, her kisses becoming more urgent, almost aggressive. He pressed the head of his cock against her entrance, desire throbbing through his abdomen, and then pushed himself in slowly.

He had to break the kiss for air as her sopping heat moulded itself around his shaft. Her hands had wandered down to cup his ass, pushing him further in, holding him close. His face burrowed in the crook of her neck, her scent enveloped his senses as he began to thrust languidly into her. She started meeting him halfway, wrapped her legs around his waist. He pushed his mouth onto hers, wanting to taste more of her.

They picked up the speed steadily, sweat started beading on his forehead -- he felt it running down his temples, vanishing into his beard. The sounds tumbling out of her fuelling the burning fire in his groin, their kisses becoming sloppier with the growing ecstasy.

He had to break the kiss regularly for air now. Then her muscles clamped down around him, his eyes screwed shut -- it was too much. His balls tightened, a white light exploded behind his eyes, he heard himself groan, his hips snapped forwards two, three, four, five more times, then he collapsed, only just managing to direct the mass of his weight to her side, breathing hard. His face against her neck, arm heavy over her stomach, legs tangled with hers. He felt her lips against his forehead, his temple, his nose. Her arms still wrapped around him, comfortingly brushing up and down his back.

Slowly, he regained control over his breathing. His mind started clearing. He lifted his face to hers and kissed her, trying to put all the love he felt for her into that one kiss.

Then his exhaustion took over and, encased in her arms, he slipped into a deep slumber.