Catching Up with S . . .

S had called me on my way into work on Tuesday asking if I was free the next evening. I was still feeling happy from a lovely weekend with J (in the aftermath of my meeting with V before the holiday weekend). I agreed “of course”. The events of the rest of the day with the arrival of my “present” from V, and J’s subsequent excitement that evening, meant I was feeling even more excited about catching-up with S as I journeyed into the office the next morning and we exchanged texts about “time and place”.

We met at our usual restaurant in Hampstead and spent the meal talking about our respective Easter weekends. As we finished and walked to the car S surprised me by saying he’d booked a different hotel, “still close-by”, because he fancied a “change”.

Although the hotel itself was bigger, and I have driven past it on numerous occasions over the years, the room was actually smaller . . . and the bathroom tiny. “May be not such a good choice!” was S’s response. But I insisted that I needed a bath rather than a shower, so he started the water whilst I opened the wine and undressed.

He sat on the toilet seat next to the bath as I soaked. I used to make excuses like asking him to bring me my phone from my bag, when I wanted to, more thoroughly, clean my “bits and pieces”, quickly sponging and sliding whilst he was out of the room for a few moments. But we’ve known each so long that such embarrassments now seem churlish and unnecessary, but as I lifted myself up in the bath a little to make my adjustments, he leant forward offering “I’ll do that for you” . . . so I pouted my disapproval “I might not want to be touched there!”. Then having to giggle as I saw the look of disappointment in his face.

I stood up and accepted the towel he handed to me, he knows I like to “drip dry”, and we exchanged places. I leant forward and washed his back and neck with the small hand towel we’d somehow mistaken for the flannel, and he spent the next few minutes soaking and telling me about his plans for the family summer holiday. As he stepped out I told him he had to let me dry him down . . . I always find it fascinating how a man’s willy can be so different and so much smaller when it is flaccid and “unexcited”. Not that I mentioned this to S of course, as I knew I would find it so much more attractive to look at in a few minutes time.

I was feeling quite wilful and led him into the main room, still holding on to his willy which I could start to feel growing a little stiffer as we reached the bed. He unwrapped my towel and we began to kiss as I continued stroking him, and he began running his hands down my back and cupping the cheeks of my bottom in his hands. As I released him to run my hand up to his shoulder I felt his firmness slap against me. He turned to sit down on the bed and pull me down with him but I resisted and instead pulled him to his feet again. I turned round and leant forward against the table telling him “I thought you might prefer to kiss me like this first”. He knelt down behind me and I immediately felt his tongue sliding up and down between my cheeks. I opened my legs wider and asked “fingers!”, gasping as he reached around with both hands and started rubbing and sliding them over my lips and clit. I was spread face down across the table holding the edges with both hands and just pushing myself up on tip-toes, lifting my bottom up and loving the sensations of his fingers circling round and round and then sliding into my pussy. His tongue was lapping down to meet his fingers and then sliding back up again and I could feel it circling round and round and then pushing and probing.

I moaned my disappointment when he stopped and stood up . . . but then I felt his cock rubbing under my lips and sliding back and forth between them. I released my grip from the table top and reached down between my legs to take his cock and guide it into my pussy. We were pushing back and forth against each other now, rocking against the table as I had the palm of one hand against the wall, and the other between my legs feeling him sliding in and out between my fingers. I was urging him to “fuck me”, and he was holding me by the hips with both his hands and stroking in and out. I was getting quite carried away and could hear myself getting louder and louder in urging him on. Then I heard him cry out “I can’t” and he pulled away and then forward into me again, rubbing his cock with much faster strokes against the cheeks of my bum. He gasped out and then I felt him splashing across my bottom and the small of my back. I reached around to grasp his hips to hold him in position and rubbed back against him, letting him feel me rubbing his cock between, the now very slippery, cheeks of my bottom.

I stood up and turned round and moved him to the bed . . . laughing and cursing as we had to struggle for a few moments to pull the sheets back as they were so tightly tucked under the edges of the mattress. We collapsed onto the bed together, S still moaning and me giggling as I told him “Isn’t it a nice feeling to rub yourself clean against such clean, freshly starched sheets!”.

We lay recovering quietly for a while. I was still lying on my stomach when he sat up next to me and then moved down to start kissing my bum cheeks and trying to slide his tongue between my cheeks again. I rolled over onto my back and told him “I need kissing here actually” . . . I know he likes me to spread my lips for him and I wanted to feel his tongue and fingers there again.

S does do such lovely things with his fingers, not just stroking around me, but he slides one and then two fingers into me between my lips and then plays with quicker and quicker strokes with two fingers of his other hand over my clit. I like to lift those fingers away and lift them up to my mouth and suck them for a moment before guiding them back down to the spot again. I was really tingling now and bouncing up and down more and more as his swirling and fingering got faster and faster. I came with a long, long groan, lifting his fingers out of me but holding his other hand onto me as I bucked upwards with those final few thrusts. I turned over again and asked him to “cuddle me please”.

By the time we’d lay together, recovering, and then turning back to face each other and cuddling and talking more, we were both surprised at my phone alarm ringing to tell me it was 15 minutes to midnight. Neither of us had dozed, we’d just been stroking and talking and the whole evening had just gone by without us realising how late it was.

We dressed and tidied up . . . S pointing out that I was lucky the wine was a screw-top as I’d hardly had a sip from my glass . . . I pushed it into my handbag, and asked if he’d mind me sharing it with J when I got home!!!

Best wishes - Edith
http://www.scarletsecrets.co.uk/edithsdiary