The Morning After

The winter sun filtered through the blinds when I woke. I was naked in the middle of the bed with a pair of quilts covering me. My legs felt sore in the best way.

Warm air enveloped me when I finally stretched out of the blankets. There was a small pile of clothes on the corner of the bed, but I only needed the shirt. It must have fit Stuart's long torso, but it was large enough on me to fall at my upper thigh. It was probably old too, judging by the softness of the cotton. Much better than last night's clothes, still crumpled on the floor.

Out in the main room, the smell of coffee and the sizzle of eggs instantly roused my appetite. Just a few steps into the room and he was in my sights. Stuart stood tall and lean with his cyclist's frame, flipping a few slices of bread-turned-toast. He was already dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt, ready for work outside.

I felt myself brighten when I saw him. "Good morning, Stu."

Stuart turned, smirked a shy half-smile at seeing his shirt draped on my curves. "Good morning, beautiful." Are there any better three words to hear? Actually, probably, but those are certainly on the list.

I closed the distance between us. Closer to the stove, hot and crackling from the fire inside. I slipped my arm around Stuart's waist. Oh, yup, twisting like that reminded me my legs were sore in the best kind of way. "How are you doing?"

He bit his lip with a side glance. "Good. Really good. Actually..." he pulled me in by my hip and dropped his voice to a whisper. "I can't stop thinking about your sounds." He tilted down to kiss my forehead.

I giggled into it. "I told you I could be quiet if you wanted."

"And I believe I said no," Stuart replied, poking at the eggs while he grinned at me. I cradled his smooth jaw in my palm and kissed him on the lips. He must have shaved that morning before he started breakfast.

Stuart was still smiling when I lowered from my toes. "Jess... I can't believe last night actually happened."

"Mmm, you mean you can't believe your cousin pushed us together? Usually I wouldn't either, but Lily..."

"Yeah, she's always been full of schemes. For once I'm glad." The kettle whistled. At the cue, Stuart poured the water into a coffee press. All his movements were smooth and efficient. It was like he cooked a locally-sourced fry-up every morning, only that day he'd happened to make double of everything. "Could you grab the plates, Jess?" Stuart nodded toward a cabinet. For the moment we were silent as we moved everything from the roaring stove to the table.

Through a couple bites and a long sip of coffee, Stuart gazed at me with stars in his eyes.

"What is it?" I asked, playfully nudging his jeans with my foot. The solidness of the chair made me very aware I wore only a shirt. There was nothing between the seat and my bare legs or bare ass.

"Oh. Well. I'm remembering the bounce of your breasts while you rode me," he said. I think I saw his face flush behind his coffee mug.

My fork was halfway raised to my mouth. I hadn't expected him to be so explicit. "Was that your favorite part?"

"I just liked knowing that I was the one making you cum." Stuart said through his blush. The innocent look was surprisingly sexy contrasted with the words. I felt myself growing hot. I slowly lowered my fork to my plate. "Okay, so what was your favorite part?" he asked.

"Probably when you held my hands to the bed," I said.

Stuart stared at me across the table. Finally he recovered enough to say. "I'd always wanted to try that."

"I'm glad we did. I like being pinned down a little bit and fucked." I said it as matter-of-factly as I could but I felt my legs weaken at the memory of it. I wondered if he could see my nipples hardening against his shirt. I might be able to keep a poker face, but I couldn't control the arousal seeping into the rest of my body.

A hunger crept into his gaze. Maybe my nipples were more prominent than I thought. "Tell me something you like that we didn't do last night."

"I like a lot of things..."

"Just one, Jess?"

My eyes locked into his. "I like it if you play with my ass."

First I got a raised eyebrow. As if following my lead, Stuart didn't pull his eyes away. "Something else I haven't done, but I'd love to try. It doesn't hurt?"

"Not if you do it right." He laughed with me. I paused for a sip of coffee. It was strong and hot and loosened my muscles. "If you get me turned on enough, and start slow, then it will feel as good as the rest of sex. It adds a lot for me."

That got a contemplative, smiling nod over his matching coffee mug. "Then I'd love to try it. I can't imagine you enjoying sex even more!"

"I'm lucky," I said. "And you really got me going last night. There was a lot of care in how you handled me, it was the perfect balance."

I started to realize that taking care of things was central to his interactions with others. Not only how he lavished me last night, but this morning too: finding clothes for me to wear, cooking me breakfast, shaving his face. It mirrored his self-sacrificing role on the family farm. I followed that thought. "What do you want, Stuart? Something else we didn't do last night."

Stuart considered the eggs on his plate. It was exactly in his character now that this man, so confident in the rest of his life, would answer quietly. "I'd love to taste you," he said. His lips turned in one corner modestly. "I'm pretty good at it, and I miss feeling a woman's lips gushing on mine."

I felt myself squirming against the chair before I could even open my mouth to reply. I might have even been leaking onto it. Stuart had a surprising directness through his quiet demeanor. "You can do that next time."

We shared another long look. Stuart wore nothing to betray his arousal, the flannel shirt and jeans were thick enough to give him cover and there was a table between us too, but his need was apparent from the flush in his face and the way his eyes pierced into me. If we didn't need to replenish our energy after last night's activities I might have leapt across the table right then.

The moment stretched between us. It would have been the perfect time to reach for him, grab him by the buttons of his shirt and feel for myself if the conversation had turned him on as much as it had me. Before I could act on it, Stuart stood but scooped up our empty plates. "Are first times always like that?" he asked.

Ah, I realized: we need to discuss that first. Of course.

I couldn't see his face at the sink, but he sounded completely earnest. "Well, no," I answered. "I think it's different each time, for each pair. A lot of it is how well two people click together. We had a very good spark and I think we both really, really wanted the other to have fun. That helps a lot."

Stuart had returned at the end of my response. "I think you're a good teacher," he said.

"Actually, I've never been someone's first time before, so it was a little new for me too."

"I never would have guessed. You seemed natural!"

"You made it easy. You were very eager to learn." I smirked at Stuart and he laughed back. "Besides, the chemistry helps. I want to crawl into your skin."

Now Stuart was smirking too. "Mmm, I could get back inside you! You felt---"

Tap-tap-tap.

My eyes shot to the door. "What was that?"

"Probably just Alex," Stuart shrugged. He was leaning towards the table like a cat ready to pounce.

I quickly paged through the extended family I'd met in the last few days. Then their plus-ones. I came up with nothing. Another tap-tap-tap. "Who's Alex?"

"My woodpecker friend. He's probably--" That predatory look was gone. Stuart leaned back in his chair and craned his neck to look through a window. "Ah, yes, right there. See?"

I didn't have Stuart's long cyclist build, plus I was on the wrong side of the table. As I walked to his side, I felt Stuart's eyes on my legs where my skin disappeared underneath the shirt. He was right. A woodpecker with a bright red crest sat on the tree nearest the cottage door. "And... you named it? Are you a Disney prince?" I started to laugh and he joined in.

"The farm doesn't get a lot of visitors," he admitted. Stuart's eyes remained fixed on the shirt hem. He reached towards focus of his gaze and traced his fingers on my upper thigh. "This time of year, Alex comes around more than my aunts."

Tap-tap-tap.

"That doesn't answer the question about Disney..." I trailed off. His touch was too good on my skin. Stuart pivoted toward me and pulled me closer towards his chair. I gasped as his touch drifted up to the back crease where my leg met my ass. Stuart must have seen flashes underneath the shirt, but now he had the confirmation: I wore only the shirt. Nothing else. His face hovered inches from my pussy. I felt the arousal there, as it had built all through breakfast and our frank conversation. I wondered if he could smell it. If he knew.

Stuart shifted his hands to hold mine and pulled me down. His head tilted up and I bent at the waist. We met in the middle for a kiss. Sweet and melting. Then my need for him grew. Our mouths opened to the other, our tongues danced, and the rest of my body followed from my hips outward. Just the taste of him could do that to me. It reminded me how quickly he'd learned my body the night before. How quickly he'd had me shrieking for him.

Still pressing his lips on mine, Stuart rose to his feet, straightening us both. Now the press on my thighs was a push, backward until I hit the table, then pushed back more until I sat. He stood between my knees, kissing me while his hands explored my long legs. Kneading and massaging. Caressing and teasing. I felt myself growing wetter and wetter at his touch. He was a strange mix of confident and inexperienced, but I suspect he'd had enough time imagining sex with a woman that when he finally had me, he was fully prepared.

He kept working me until my legs trembled and my breathing jagged. "Fuck Stuart, I want you."

As if that were the signal he'd been waiting for, Stuart straightened. He towered over my perch on the table. But his hands slid up from my outer thighs to my hips and to my waist. They snagged the oversized t-shirt up and over my ribs. He slowed just enough to caress the outside of my breasts then my shoulders.

Suddenly I sat naked while Stuart stood fully clothed. My nipples were prominent despite the radiant warmth of the stove. It must have been from how he looked at me as if I were the only woman he'd ever seen.

Then he wrapped a hand around each breast, with my hard pink nipples pinched firmly by each thumb. My hips rolled at the touch. Forget a light, hesitant brush. There's almost nothing better than an assertive tug. Still holding my breasts, he knelt in front of the table. His jeans rustled as he settled onto his knees. His mouth found my thigh and worked up towards my heat.

I couldn't hold back my need any longer. I leaned back with palms pressed against the tabletop, thrusting my torso forward into his hands and into his mouth. Stuart kissed closer in, then finally licked up my slit like he was slurping the dripping wetness from my lips. Maybe he was. I squirmed against him as he licked again - slower, broader.

My legs opened wider to expand his access and he dove in, greedily. He licked and sucked and slurped into my slit as if he were parched. Maybe he had been. All the while his fingers toyed with my nipples and my thighs shook against him. Somewhere in there I risked shifting my weight to a single hand so I could entwine my fingers into his hair and pull him closer. I bucked my hips against his mouth, hard, like I was riding his tongue like a dexterously wet cock.

I couldn't believe how well Stuart seemed to understand my body. How in sync he was with my movements and gasps and groans. He was right, he was good at this.

Then I was cumming. Hard and loud. Forgetting all else. I screamed his name as I shook against his face.

He paused while I heaved in my breaths. "Mmm, fuck you taste good." Then he stood, half smirking. "And this is my favorite part." Stuart bent over me. I felt denim rough on my inner thighs. His shirt brushed over my sensitive nipples. His kiss tasted of pussy. My pussy. Sweet and heady with cum. I kissed his lips first then sucked at his face, working as quickly as I could to drink my own juice off him.

"Give me more, Stuart." I growled into the pulse between us. "Make me scream all over again."

"Fuck, Jess." I heard the jingle of his belt, then Stuart shifted as he pushed his jeans off his hips and down his legs.

"Wait." I grasped his wrists. Stuart's eyes flashed in concern. Wanting to keep our growing momentum, I hissed, "Keep these on, Stu. Fuck me with your clothes on."

He growled into another kiss, leaning me back onto the table. Next I heard the crinkle of a wrapper. A long beat while he unrolled the condom down his stiff cock. It stood free of his jeans, but the pants still sat high on his legs. He lined up the head of his cock against my pussy but didn't push in -- not yet. He rocked up and down on his toes, working the thick head across my folds.

I returned to the balance of a single hand holding me up so I could grab at his hip. "Fuck me, Stuart. Take me here on your kitchen table."

Stuart's eyes, usually a soft gentle brown, must have seen something wild in mine because they hardened the way my voice had. "Oh Jess. Yes. I'm going to do exactly that."

His hips pushed forward but not fast, not yet. He started slow. Stretching my opening, making me adjust to him. Between the hard, smooth tabletop below and his slim, toned frame above, I melted into the feeling of being utterly filled and fulfilled.

Stuart rocked his hips with long, slow strokes that rubbed across every secret, sensitive place within me. I needed only a subtle push against his thigh to adjust him to the perfect angle. Once he hit it, I moaned loud. It was almost instantaneous. After that, he kept the angle but pushed the pace, building us up to higher heights. He learned quick.

My attempts to thrust back onto him were met with a firm hand on my hip. He held me in place - but he did it gently, almost sweetly. I relaxed back against the wood and wrapped my legs around his waist as he worked us both. Too busy moaning to speak, it was the clearest remaining communication: he could control the pace. I was his.

Stuart kept building the rhythm. A few deliciously torturous minutes in, he was fucking me. Hard. The wet slap of our bodies joined my gasps and moans to fill the room. Underneath the noise, his belt buckle jingled every time he thrust forward.

Stiff fabric against my soft, bare skin. Strong hands, so gently pinning me to the smooth tabletop. I was in heaven. Spasms took over my body. My hands clutched at his torso and found fistfuls of his flannel shirt. My moans pitched up to screams. My pussy gripped around him and I came, over and over. He groaned through each wave, visibly shaking in the effort of holding himself back from joining me. I felt his eyes on my breasts, bouncing on my chest with every thrust. But otherwise, I was lost to that pleasure of being absolutely plowed by a beautiful man with stamina. Still Stuart worked into me and my juice streamed out.

Suddenly my pussy was empty. Stuart hadn't slowed the rhythm, only pulled out mid-stride to leave me gasping.

"Turn over," he said, even as his hands had me halfway flipped. "I want to see your sexy ass next."

My legs uncurled from his waist and stretched down. I'm tall enough to comfortably plant my feet on the floor while bending over the edge. Palms gripping the opposite edge, breasts pressed into the smooth surface, I craned my neck to watch behind me. Stuart stood, surveying my body in hunger. Then his hands gripped my ass cheeks to pin me the way he'd held my hips and his cock plunged back into my pussy.

No wait this time, no build. Simply resuming the rhythm he'd found before, stroking along the inside of my walls while his jeans rubbed the back of my legs. His cock felt bigger at this angle -- or maybe it had swollen even more from desire.

It felt like mere seconds before I was screaming again in the pleasure of being so carnally fucked. My back arched up. Distantly I noted the window in front of us and the woodpecker's tree, now without the woodpecker. The tree glowed in the winter sun - it was beautiful for both a breakfast as well as a fucking.

Stuart groaned along with me, but where my voice was mostly a wordless babble, his voice goaded me on. "Yes, that's it, Jess. Cum for me." He punctuated the words with thrusts. "Cum." Slam. "For." Slam. "Me."

I couldn't do anything but follow. Spasming hard around him, legs weakening under the onslaught. Voice pitching higher into a shriek.

That's when Stuart shifted one of his hands. The pad of this thumb brushed across my exposed asshole. It was tentative, barely felt. "More," I said, twisting my neck further so I could look back at him. He nodded and added just a little pressure. Stuart still thrust into me, but slower. The concentration had stolen his pace.

"More," I repeated. His eyes snapped up into mine. Despite the prior heat of the moment, his gaze was soft and seeking. Realizing he needed a little prompting, I tugged words from the back of my brain. "Treat my asshole like it's a clit."

He did, still gentle but much firmer, rubbing circles on my hole. His touch was a lover's caress and electric. I screamed. That confirmation restored the thrusting pace, which only doubled the pleasure coursing through me. Even more confident then, Stuart's touch pulsed on the bud. I think my mind detached from my body. Not only my pussy clenched at that, but everything else too - knees bending, fingers grasping, neck and back arching. Stuart kept circling, kept pressing, kept rubbing my asshole in tandem with his quick, deep thrusts.

"Yes!" I was shrieking. "Fuck, yes!"

Stuart's other fingers tightened on my ass. His exposed hips and covered thighs both slammed in a staccato. I could tell by the shift in cadence: he was close.

"Cum with me. Cum with me," I babbled through my shrieks. "Cum with---"

He interrupted me with a possessive growl, pressing his cock impossibly deep while I squeezed back. His hands, trapped between us, spasmed on my ass. Pinned and impaled, I could only scream and flood around him.

We milked each other of cum.

I collapsed onto the table top, panting hard, moaning softly. Stuart's chest pressed down on my back, heaving through the thick flannel. His clean hand held mine, fingers entwined like the night before. His lips grazed my neck, light kisses that kept me grounded. We lay there for a minute while our bodies relaxed in the haze.

Stuart landed a sweet kiss on my cheek then pulled away slowly. I heard the water running as he cleaned up. I knew I should do the same, but decided it could wait. I had barely enough strength to collapse into a chair, exhausted in the best way.

When he returned, Stuart scooped me up and settled us on a plush armchair, him fully clothed and me fully naked on his lap. His jeans were wet against my bare legs. "Shouldn't you change these?" I asked.

Stuart shook his head. "Mmm, no, Jess. I want to smell like you all day."

He cradled me to his chest while we kissed. His flannel shirt warmed my skin. Our mouths tasted of coffee and cum, but my hunger for both had been sated.

Finally, we pulled apart. Stuart pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear with a smile. "Alright sweetheart, I should go look after the animals."

The reality of the day settled in. Everything I brought was still at his cousin's house, except what I wore the night before. "And I should go back to Lily's to change."

As Stuart studied me, I felt his confidence dissipating. "Would you..." He licked his lips and started again. "Jess, will you stay with me the rest of the week?"