Saturday with S . . .

After taking our daughter to the station on Friday evening J and I had a lovely meal in our local Italian. Then an early night talking, and playing, about my invitation for S to pop-round the next afternoon whilst J was at work. J woke me early in the morning, rubbing against my back, even more excited than he had been the night before. He left me recovering in bed as he left for work . . . "Are you going to wear one of your new outfits?" he asked as he stood at the bedroom door. I giggled back "I wasn't thinking of wearing anything actually!".

I dozed until 9 . . . a luxury I never normally have on weekends . . . then wandered around tidying the front room, and the bedroom, whilst I sipped my wake-up mug of tea and then ran a bath. S had told me he had to take his children to sports early in the morning and wouldn’t be leaving for his “golf afternoon” until mid-day.

As I lounged in the bath I was contemplating how I should greet him at the door, but the more I thought about it the more I couldn't be bothered with getting dressed. I sat in my robe whilst I dried my hair and did my make-up, and decided this would be much more comfortable and much more practical. I smeared a little lipstick around my nipples hoping it would last long enough for him to taste it.

He called just after noon to say he was parking round the corner and five minutes later tapped on the front door. We embraced in the hallway and he was already undoing my robe before I’d had a chance to catch my breath. I was naked almost immediately and gasping as he quickly found the lipstick. He dropped down onto his knees, licking down my tummy straight to my lips. I found myself opening my legs for him and having to balance myself by holding onto his shoulders as he pushed forward, reaching up to grasp my hips and almost lift me off the floor as he pushed and probed with his tongue. I tried to step away backwards, telling him he hadn’t even commented on my new hairstyle . . . but he shuffled on his knees in time with my backward steps, lifting his mouth away just long enough to mumble “I love it”, before burying himself between my legs again.

It was arousing, so arousing!!! He stood up and started pulling off his jacket and shirt as I unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down over his hips . . . then had to pull away laughing at his attempts to kick off his shoes as he tried to step out of his trousers. It did look comical to see him, with his erection bouncing around, as he had to drop awkwardly down on his bottom and pull off his shoes. “And the socks!! I hate that!” I said as he initially stood back up, naked except for his socks!!!

We embraced again, this time much more slowly, and more purposefully. I let him suckle from nipple to nipple again and stroked his back with one hand, whilst reaching down to his willy with my other. “Do you want lunch” I giggled to him. He was mumbling again with his mouth full, “just these and this” sliding his fingers down and in between my legs. We stood kissing and stroking, and sucking for a little longer, until I pulled away and suggested “let’s go upstairs then” . . .

There’s just something about being in my own bed that I enjoy more, much more, than any other . . . I was feeling just really, really aroused as we rolled around and around and over each other on the bed. The more we played the more aroused I felt myself becoming and the naughtier I wanted to be. I sat up on his chest facing his feet and then slid myself over him, reaching down between us to guide him inside me. As I leant forward, lifting up and pushing down and lifting up and pushing down I felt his hands spreading my cheeks. I felt his finger pushing forward, but reached back to brush his hand away saying "I don't want. I just want this". Lifting up and sitting back down on him again and again. His hands spread my cheeks again, I knew what he was looking at. "You can look but not touch" I told him. He was gasping and groaning, saying "But I so want to touch".

I was getting closer and closer, but then heard him gasping out "Up, I'm going to come". I quickly lifted up off him and swivelled round to lay down next to him. I reached over to stroke his willy with my hand. He came with quick splashes. I sat up on one elbow, stroking his chest and then sliding down to his groin. I rubbed the wetness down over his tummy and then up over mine, rolling over on top of him and feeling the slippery squelching between us. "Don't want to get it on J's side of the bed" he was gasping. "He'd probably quite like it actually" I giggled. He still seemed quite hard, so I rolled off him and sucked him into my mouth again. He felt warm and definitely still quite firm in my mouth. I sucked for a few strokes and then sat back up on him, lifting myself over his chest and reaching down to grasp his willy and position it so I could slide down onto it again. I was facing forwards this time, enjoying the way he was smiling at me. We were both groaning again. I started bouncing up and down on him, straightening up and rubbing my fingers over myself as I bounced. I was really close again and needed it so badly. He was whispering how he loved watching me play with myself. As I came I fell forwards onto him, snuggling into his shoulder as I felt his arms cuddling around me and squeezing me into his chest.

We lay together like this for some time, me on top of him, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around me and his occasional kisses on my head and neck. Eventually I’d recovered enough to roll off him and sit up. “Are you hungry?” I asked. “I have some Marks and Sparks snacky bits in the fridge". He agreed that as he hadn’t eaten since an early breakfast . . . and I hadn’t eaten at all . . . that we’d go back downstairs for some refreshments. We both laughed as we reached the top of the stairs and looked down to see his clothes and shoes, and my robe, in a pile on the floor just inside the front door. Anyone coming in would have had to step over them. We moved them into the front room on our way to the kitchen. S poured the wine whilst I arranged some food and we snuggled up on the sofa with our plates and glasses, chatting and nibbling. I explained about J’s work project and why he was working both days this weekend, and S told me all his latest family news and plans for their summer holidays.

I enjoyed asking him to top-up my wine and watching him walk out to the kitchen and back, teasing him that it was obviously “colder in our kitchen than here on the sofa”. He wasn’t drinking any more wine as he’d “have to be driving home from golf”, so with no plates and no glass to hold his hands started caressing and wandering again. I leaned back into the sofa and opened my legs so he could slide down between them. His tongue and fingers soon had me moaning . . . I had to ask him to stop so I could put my glass down onto the floor, but then I took his head in my hands and guided him straight back to where he’d been. His fingers were lovely and I was lifting my hips for him and pushing and groaning as I felt him stroking and probing. "How many?" I was gasping. "Four" he answered. "I want more" I told him. "Haven't got any more" . . . and, as he said it I felt myself coming. I thrust myself up against his hand and his tongue licking and swirling around above it. I came so hard I had locked myself around his head and he had to struggle to pry me apart and lift away. I felt him lifting my legs back up onto the sofa, and I straightened out to lay back flat on my back. It was some minutes before I’d recovered enough to open my eyes and see him still kneeling on the floor beside me. I pulled my legs up so that he could sit down beside me and feed me sips of my wine. Eventually I was able to sit up completely and snuggle up to him again, stroking his chest and then down his tummy. His erection felt lovely, smooth and hard. "What do you want?" I asked as I stroked gently up and down. "Toys" he groaned. It was so surprising, and so quick the way he said it, that I laughed and pulled my hand away. He quickly pulled it back to where I’d been holding him. “I like seeing you with your toys” he said. S has seen our toys on a few occasions before but the sudden surprise with which he was asking made me feel like giggling rather than feel aroused. I said “well, we’ll have to go back upstairs again” . . . he took my hands and lifted me up in an instant.

I lifted the small suitcase (“our toy box” as J calls it) out of the wardrobe and let him open it up as I sank back onto the bed with my glass of wine. He was lifting things up like an excited school boy . . . but I kept disappointing him by shaking my head and telling him I really didn’t feel like “that one” right now. It was strange, but despite the length of time, and all the things I’ve shared with S, I still felt a little uncomfortable about sharing some of J and my secrets with him. I told him I needed more wine and would he go down to the kitchen to bring the bottle up for me . . . I soothed his reluctance with a teasing “then I might let you choose”. As he disappeared I rummaged through to find several things that I didn’t want him to see, and slid them under the bed. I was feeling a little naughtier and more excited now as I lay back and held out my glass for him to top-up on his return.

I was still giggling, but feeling much more devilish now . . . “maybe” I teased, as he lifted up one that was one of J’s favourites. “You promised” he said . . . that made me laugh even more, and I pulled him down with me. I tried to squirt some wine into his mouth as we kissed, I could feel he was quite excited . . . and I began feeling tingly again as well.

Our caresses and kisses had us both quite worked up now . . . I laid back and let him rub the long beaded wand over my nipples. The buzzing and vibrating made me feel even more wanton. I opened my legs as he moved it down to my pussy. He was leaning forward and spreading my lips with the fingers of one hand while he directed the top bead over my exposed clit with the over. I was moaning loudly and had to push it away telling him “it will be too quick otherwise”. I turned over onto my knees and let him re-adjust it so that he was sliding it between my legs, forward over my lips and then sliding it back and up between my cheeks. “I need my gel” I told him as I collapsed back down onto the bed. He found the bottle in the case and I knelt back up for him, gasping as I felt him smearing it over and down and around. I adjusted myself to help him as he directed it, groaning my “gentle, gentle” and “twist” instructions and then hearing myself getting louder and louder as he probed deeper and he ran his free hand around and down my tummy. “Take it out now . . . you better, if you want me” I was starting to twist and turn my hips.

I gasped loudly as I felt him pulling it out, and then groaned and gasped more as I felt him re-positioning himself behind me and then pushing in. I reached back with my hands to join his as he held my hips, then had to quickly let go to re-balance myself on the pillows as he started his thrusts. I let my knees slide wider and reached up to hold the bedhead as we rocked back and forth against one another. I could hear him moaning now too, not as loudly as I was, but with deeper and deeper gurgles and groans. He’d moved one of his hands up to the small of my back, pushing down on me, and reached round with the other to slide his fingers over my pussy, but our quickening movements was making it difficult for him to find the spot. Then, suddenly, he didn’t need to. “Oh, fucking, push me” I was squealing out . . . I fell forwards and sideways onto the pillows . . . both of us gasping and crying out to each other as we separated. I was rocking from side to side, and felt him slide off me as my shuddering continued. He’d collapsed down on to the bed beside me and as he pulled me into him to cuddle, I felt the wet of his come on the sheets . . . and dribbling down between my legs. We lay without speaking for ages . . . before I eventually turned over to face him, cuddling into his shoulder. “Sticky stuff everywhere” I giggled. “Sorry” he whispered back.

We slept for nearly an hour. Waking with a start, but then consoling each other that we still had an hour before he would be expected home from his golf. He asked with a worried tone “what time will J come home?”, I told him it would be two hours or more yet, and that “he’ll phone first anyway” . . . before teasing him with “but he’d love to walk in and find us like this”. . .

It was actually S’s phone that beeped first. We could hear it ringing downstairs in the front room where he’d left it. The ringing stopped before he reached it, but as he came back into the room clutching his clothes it beeped with a text. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, and I laughed out loud, as he read out “bring some milk in when you come”.

I watched him dress and accepted his kisses, on my tummy and breasts, and neck and then forehead, as he told me how fantastic it had been. “The best ever!” I told him he’d left me so exhausted that I couldn’t get up and see him out . . . so he could wait and stay a bit longer if he wished, so that I could recover . . . but he said he had to go.

I reluctantly got up and followed him down the stairs. We kissed our goodbyes at the door and I struggled back into the front room to find my robe and snuggle up into J’s normal position on the sofa . . . this time it was me, waiting for him, to come home . . .