Weekend Alone

“Hmmm….” He said softly. “Can’t be playing favorites,” as he gently rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She didn’t attempt to silence the moan that escaped as he played. Never before had she hungered for him as she did at this moment. It appeared that her plans to awaken his passion had also served to heighten her own! She smiled at the bonus she had earned until he lowered his head and caught that nipple in his mouth.

A gasp escaped her lips at the sensation. Warm and wet, he suckled her, while his tongue played with the hardened nub. Nerve endings became electrified and danced as he brushed his teeth over it, then nipped lightly. Her hands were in his hair, holding his head in place to keep doing such wonderful things to her.

But he had other plans for this passionate woman who was his wife. Leaving her nipple wet and swollen to match its sister, his lips traced a path down her side, kissing her full round hips.

She held her breath as his fingers toyed in the curls between her legs. In her passion clouded mind, she realized that he was pleasuring her in precisely the manner which she had pleasured herself and that thought made each touch even arousing. She called his name, as a finger slipped into the slick wetness between her legs. Her own fingers had excited and pleasured her, but his hand was larger, warmer, stronger. She found herself holding very still, anticipating each caress.

Their heavy breathing was a symphony of passion, as her ears mixed the sounds with the sultry jazz still playing. Her back arched involuntarily as his thumb found her still sensitive clitoris, swollen and distended from her climax. Without waiting, his large finger slid inside of her and she raised her hips to draw him in more deeply. With his hand still toying with her feminine core, he moved up her body to again claim her mouth, biting her lip slightly as their tongues reached for one another.

“I can’t wait any more,” came his passion-filled whisper in her ear.

“Then don’t,” she whispered back, barely surprised at the husky tone of her voice.

With a deep, guttural sound at the back of his throat, he was on top of her in a moment, poised between her legs, stroking her wetness with his agonizingly hard manhood. Their eyes met again and she was struck by the heat reflected in his. Heat that had nothing to do with the firelight that danced in them. In the next instant, he plunged into her, certain of her readiness. Her muscles tightened around him as he did and the primal woman in her rejoiced at his groan of pleasure. There was nothing civilized in this joining. It was as old as the first man and woman finding completion in one another. She met his every thrust, raising her hips to feel the fullness of each plunge, her own passion rising as his pace quickened. She watched his face, awed by the intense pleasure she saw there. Placing her feet on the floor, she thrust herself as hard against him so that with each thrust it felt like their bodies were forging into one.

Her second climax exploded upon her just as she felt him still and then plunge even harder into her with his own. It seemed never to end, this wave after wave of mind-bending pleasure that washed over them both there, on the floor of this secluded mountain retreat. She heard their moans of release over the music and rejoiced in the freedom that came with them.

Spent, he collapsed on her and she welcomed his weight. Hands gently stroking his back, she smiled to herself, pleased with what they had begun this night.

“You are a wicked woman,” he manage to whisper, shifting slightly, though still keeping himself within her, even as he softened.

“Mmmmmm,” she replied. “Didn’t you know that?”

He kissed her and then let his head fall into the cradle between her neck and shoulder. “Perhaps…but I think I’d forgotten…”

Her smile broadened as they both began to drift into an exhausted sleep. The weekend was young. He only knew the half of it, she thought and wondered how he’d respond to the rest of her plans….