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I sat up again and pushed two fingers inside her, finding the rough texture of her G-spot. She began to groan with pleasure, and I alternated between teasing her clit and her G-spot until she tensed and cried out in orgasm. The her hands found my cock again. She said urgently, “I want to make you cum,” and I knew that her soft but erotically charged touch would soon make me do just that. I cried out, “I want to cum in your mouth,” and in an instant her face was at my crotch, she was swallowing my cock, and I was cumming joyously.
Yes, that’s what happened, not long ago. If you enjoyed the story, please click on the star that says “5”. I’d like to do well in the contest. Thanks for reading.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 1 month agoWell, to begin with, you've stolen the title from a 1956 Robert Heinlein juvenile novel.
Anonymousover 2 years agoThe stuff that dreams are made of but, apparently, sometimes dreams do cum true.
Anonymousover 5 years agoEach sonnet is his little song of love
To one, though not his wife, whom he adores.
Occasionally they couple—the sex soars
To stratospheric heights. Not even God
Could pry them off this ceiling, nor improve
The ecstasy of non-connubial bliss
That holds them in its sway. Each sweet, shared kiss
Is psychotherapy, a trance they groove
Into each other, enter fugue state, lose
All sense of self. It's transformational,
But cannot last; the fog of love, diffused,
Begins to dissipate and they return
To ordinary life—impersonal
And bitter as a past-its-prime Sauternes.
