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After a grueling day of children, work and assorted other stresses, the last thing I wanted was to get ready for a date.
I called to let him know I was behind schedule. When he asked what was wrong I gave him the condensed version. “Do you want to talk instead of going to bed?” he asked.
“Exactly the opposite,” I told him exhaustedly. He complied. Barely giving me time to kick off my shoes and drop my bag on the floor, he herded me toward the bedroom. He undressed me quickly; before I had time to protest his fingers were in me and his mouth was on my clit.
‘Tis hard to stay stressed with lips on your clit. The longer he kept going, the more I melted into the bed. Only much later did I gathered the energy to push him away and dive between his legs.
He’s got the most amazingly responsive cock. It hangs heavily half-hard until gripped or kissed, when it swells rapidly with life. Let it go and the swelling subsides, only to come back stronger than ever when fondled again. It’s a game I could play for hours.
He lacks the patience for this game, however. Condom quickly donned, he stroked into me until my head was mostly off the bed, making me strain to see the look on his face as he came.
We’ve fallen into the habit of talking and swapping massages afterwards. He stroked my back first, which makes me shudder and nearly come if done soon after orgasm. Or before orgasm. Or, you know, during orgasm. When he was done I took care of his back, his legs, his feet…and (even though he didn’t specifically ask for it) also his ass. The oil bottle traded hands again, and while I purred uncontrollably, he worked over my feet.
Thoughts of children, work and other stresses no longer penetrated my happy brain. “Sometime we should try massaging first and fucking later,” I murmured to him. “Wouldn’t that be relaxing?”
“We’d be too relaxed to do anything else,” he answered.
“I’m not so sure about that.” Before he could answer I took his still half-hard cock into my mouth, enjoying once again its rapid expansion.
But time was running short. We both needed to head back into the real world.
I drove off to yet another grocery run feeling as relaxed as if I’d spent a week on vacation, and I wondered if I’d have felt just as satisfied if we’d forgone sex and spent the whole time only touching and talking.
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