Now That We Are Alone

Jenny fretted as the minutes ticked by and her darling man, her husband Tom, had still not come home. She had been buoyed up by the knowledge of them having a weekend entirely to themselves and had spent the day like some lovestruck teenager wanting to see her love. She wanted him and had fantasized about what they would do with each other that evening.

She had dressed up, only a bit, and had chosen a sleeveless camisole top that shaped her breasts and revealed the depth of her cleavage. It was just as she wanted. Buxom she may be, but her breasts had headed south after having and nursing two kids, yet exercise classes had trimmed her waist and restored what had once been an hourglass figure. She was encouraged to look after her figure, as Tom continued to lust over it and needed little encouragement to 'slip her a length' as he so often put it, crudely, but in his only too direct ways of it.

The doorbell rang and she cursed, not wanting any visitors to see her dressed as she was for her man and no one else. She opened the tiny slatted blind fixed to the pane of glass set into the middle of the door and laughed, soon tugging open the door.

"What a surprise!" she called out as Tom hid his face in a large bunch of flowers that she pushed to one side, her mouth soon latching onto his. "Come inside...."

"Where?" he grinned, his eyes drifting over her.

"You'll find out, Tom Gough!" She already knew from his look upon her that what she had chosen to wear had the desired effect upon him. Jenny soon felt his hands on her hips as he drew her to him.

"You look wonderful, good enough to eat," he whispered warmly in her ear, Jenny pushing his jacket from his shoulders and Tom loosening another button on his shirt. The greying hair on his chest tickled her lips as Jenny pressed her mouth to his skin and breathed in his heat.

"I could say the same of you..."

She leans back against him and moves her head as his fingers caress her neck and throat, brushing the tumble of her auburn hair away from her lightly made-up face. He offers soft kisses to her skin and whispers that he wants her as he cups one breast and gently squeezes on it, its weight not adequately held by her blouse. His other hand sweeps down over her softly rounded tummy, stroking her skin in lazy sweeps, each touch sending little shivers coursing through her body. She pushes back against him and feels the swell in his trousers press against her bum, shaped so well by her fashionable jeans. He reacts, cups her breasts in his large hands as she laces her fingers with his and they kiss, slow and searching each other's mouths with swirling tongues.

She laughs softly, in disbelief, as she feels how wet she has become from the gnawing desire to be taken by her man, to share in his inventive and energetically passionate ways with her.

'What's so funny?" he teases as she is made to turn and face him. She basks in the knowledge of what lies behind the look of his wonderful grey-blue eyes upon her and she caresses his face and runs her fingers through his short greying hair. Her man always did look after himself and she's been encouraged to do the same.

She answers him with a coy smile, dragging him along the hallway and into the living room. "Oh, that we seem to have had the same idea for what to do tonight."

Tender kisses are again exchanged, and she hugs him tighter as their kisses become wilder and deeper, more intense and she feels the swell in his trousers. It presses against her belly, and then her pussy, as they move. She groans out of pleasure and arousal. She feels so wet and yet they have hardly begun!

Tom slumps down on the sofa, the evening breeze wafting over them. She has opened the wide bi-fold doors to make it feel as if they are outside, but no one will see them as she straddles his hips and tugs away his shirt, kisses his skin, and feels the brush of his chest hair to her face.

"How I love being with you like this!" she gasps as he pretends to have trouble unfastening her bra, a soft smile on his lips suggesting it's all part of his slow game to bring her on. Tom knows how she loves to feel his hands on her body, most of all on her breasts, and how she caresses his face with them; his hungering mouth always offering tender kisses, his lips tugging and caressing her nipples. She feels how hard they have become already, the fabric of her blouse perfect to reveal the effect that he has upon her.

They groan together through their kisses and caress each other's naked bodies, wherever they can touch and kiss, Tom's hands gripping the swell of her breasts and she pushes forward, delighting him as he does what she knew he would.

"They're only for you...only for you," she groans, pressing them against his cheeks and she feels his sharp intake of breath as she does so. "Yes, take those too!"

His lips have clamped on her hard nipples, these claims changing to the pinch of his thumbs and index fingers. He tugs on them, stretches her skin and she shivers.

"I love and lust after you, woman of mine...what you bring to me," she hears him say as Tom kisses her skin. His tongue soon glides and circles over her nipples, circles wider and she is possessed by the tugging cramps of longing and reaches down to grab for his prick, pushing hard against his trousers and her crotch. He fumbles to loosen his belt and she reaches down and grabs him, hard; massages it awkwardly but it's enough. He groans and squirms; presses his face to her breasts once more, and clamps on them, hard.

"I know, but don't bruise me...don't, darling!" she yelps and is overcome with the rushes of longing for him as, impulsively, she begins to unfasten her jeans, an expensive statement buy at a local women's boutique favored by richer women in the neighbourhood. Tom helps her as she looks lustfully at him, teases his senses by brushing her fingers over her slit, and lets him know just how far she's gone in wanting him, by exposing her wet folds.

"Go on, put on a show for me," he leers, and leans back on the sofa, watching her slowly begin to finger herself in a slow and steady rhythm, in and out. "We're alone and can do just as we want."

"And you're overdressed," she laughs, leering at him as she moves to kneel on the floor before him, soon tugging at his trousers and briefs, Tom lifting his help to help her in undressing him. With trembling fingers, she soon grips his hardening prick. "I'm going to have you, like this...to begin with."

She licks and swirls over the domed tip with her wet tongue, and slicks over its length until she pauses. Tom's hands are in her hair, and he pushes, has her mouth engulf his prick and she begins to suck, to take him deeper. She groans and shifts on him but keeps her man's love wand so deep in her mouth where she has wanted him to be. Wanton thoughts of what they would pursue, from the moment he came home, are now made ragingly real.

At first, she traces her tongue over its length, from his ball sac to the very tip, and does so as she looks at him lustfully and toe gauge his reaction. His groans of pleasure compel her to continue. Her tongue draws lazy circles over the tip, or she sucks upon it but her claims go on for longer and deeper, and she feels it brush against the roof of her open mouth.

He shifts underneath her, groaning as he does so. "You're...you're doing that so well! It's not been so long since the last time!"

"But it's different now, we're alone in the house..." she mumbles, her mouth and one hand claiming him, her lips sucking tightly and quickly as she gets more excited from the control she has over him. She stops, only for Tom to pull her up and from him and kiss her deeply.

Somehow he makes them stumble from the sofa and he lifts her into his arms. "In the bedroom, we finish this there!"

She clings to him, her arms and legs wrapped around him as she is carried up the stairs, his fingers tracing a path over her pussy's lips, pressing and sliding into her. She rises on them, shivering as she's finger-fucked in ways that he has perfected with her. She gushes and clings fiercely to him as she shudders from her orgasm. Thoughts of this, then Tom doing it for her, has brought it on in wracking shivers of pleasure.

"Like this for a moment...then a moment longer," he kisses as they remain on the landing, her back brushing against the wall near the door to the bedroom. He trails caresses over her body, as she clings to him before his agile fingers find her sweet heat once more, graze over her clit and she shudders, groans on his mouth as he kisses her, silences her soft moans as he fumbles for his prick and slowly drives it into her.

Her intense feelings of longing are now satisfied. He is in her body, and she closes around him, breathes hotly, and lifts her head to meet his sliding kisses to her throat as they finally stumble into the bedroom and, still impaled upon him, Tom breaks their fall by holding out his arms.

"Now I'll do what I want with you," he kisses, pushing her hands up and pinning them to the mattress, his movements slow and deep in her.

"Go on then" she groans, shifting underneath him and lifting her hips from the bed to meet his slow thrusts, the caress of his fingertips to her throat and then over the splay of her breasts. "How can I stop you?"

"You can't, my darling, you can't."

He lets her go and she moves one hand between their bodies and touches where he is, touches her pussy's lips, and pricks the base of his shaft with her fingernails. Tom moves slowly and pushes her legs further apart, his kisses and caresses slow but intense. He wants to share, his open-mouthed kisses tender and searching as he loves her. She wants it to go quicker, to share in tempestuous and raging romp on the bed, but he draws his head away and smiles down at her as she sucks in her breaths, his movements insanely pleasurable and touching places so deep that she wonders if she can hold on, stop the incoming rush of another orgasm.

He moves so that he can suck on her breasts, put his lips to each nipple, and plagues them, each nerve under her skin tingling as shi mouth and fingers pleasure her and his body moves so that his penis brings continued rushes of pleasure that she keeps at bay, somehow. That swollen glistening tip of his penis trails caresses up and down her pussy's walls.

"I love what you're doing to me!" she finally has to yell, her breaths quickening as his actions bring her closer to the rush of an orgasm, so many feelings of pleasure that she wants to endure. She tugs on his hair to persuade him to let go of her breasts, to tear his lips from her nipples as his hips slam against hers and she rises to meet each thrust in a renewed and now frenzied rhythm of giving and taking.

"Slow down, make it last...touch my tits with it, please!" she begs, and she shudders on feeling him withdraw from her body and kneeling between her parted thighs. She grabs that glistening pole of flesh, slick with her juices, and presses her breasts to each; attempting to jerk him off with them as she kisses her. "let me do this now!"

He laughs in dismay and out of wanton pleasure as her lips again touch the domed tip of his prick. He kneels high above her to allow Jenny to do this final act; shudders as she sinks into him and takes it deep in her throat. They lock eyes as she bobs and sucks on him, his hands cupping and squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples hard. She groans but he claims her relentlessly.

"The last act!" she commands and with surprising strength, and his compliance, she pushes him away. Tom flops back on the bed and she mounts him. Harshly she grabs his trembling penis and she mounts him. "I want to fuck you... do that!"

She takes him deep and hears Tom's groans of pleasure and effort as he fails to control these last tempestuous moments. His prick is being pulled and, wrenched and eased, and she knows what to do in spades. She writhes upon him, thrusts, and eases her hips in a mesmerizing rhythm. Her hands pinch his chest and her breasts sway, brushing his chest as she rides him.

"You darling...my Jenny!" he cries out. "I feel that I'm filling you!"

"You are...you are," she yelps on halting breaths of effort as her lover's hands grip her hips and they share in the wild tempo of loving. She feels so full of him and knows that she will not have the energy to continue working with him for much longer in these hard and wild ways.

Tom looks up at her, hat his wildly passionate and lustful wife. He delights in the sway of her breasts; in how one of her hands grips one and the fingers of the other slick her pussy's lips, prick the base of his shaft. He's pleasuring her while she touches herself in wanton pursuit of her climax.

"So deep...you're so deep, my darling!" she calls out to him. Jenny looks with unseeing eyes at the ceiling she bucks her hips and feels him touch the deepest point in her vagina. It has all become so intense, ragingly pleasurable and she shudders. She cannot stop the rush of her approaching orgasm and tells her lover to go on.

On a volley of shouts and halting breaths they climax. They feel muscles relax as their bodies lose all control of her orgasm and his ejaculation of bolt after bolt of his semen. Nothing will come of him finding her; she's far too old for that, but not too old or lacking in energy, or passion, to enjoy a tempestuous tryst with her only man.

"What can we possibly find to do after that?" he teases, drawing her down to lie beside him, in a hot and passionate embrace; their arms and legs wrapped around each other, no matter how uncomfortable that is. They will come down from their shared highs first.

Finally, with her heart beating much slower and her emotions reined in once more, after an intense union with him, she kisses Tom and holds his head to make him look at her.

"I love you, always have," she tells him.

"It's the same for me, darling...but I wonder how I've lasted all these years after loving like that."

"You'll cope, as you've always done," she sniggers and reaches for him. "I may cook some supper for us if you'll let me...later."

♥