Pout Erotica

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Saturday, April 09, 2005

Pout Erotica-8


The anticipation burns at my core; need almost making me careless in my actions. I glance inconspicuously out the kitchen window. Damn, nothing. I try to ease my shaking nerves as I dry the dishes, but I can’t. Hurry up, dammit!

Finally, a body appears at the upstairs window. I feel the desire flowing to my lower body, my toes curling in anticipation. I barely glance over my shoulder as I yell out, “Honey, I’m going out back for a while.” The return reply is never heard as I slip out onto the patio in my bathrobe, a cigarette in hand as cover.

There he is. I sigh as the waves of forbidden longing stretch across the hedge and flow upward to imprint themselves on his panes. Nervously, I arrange the patio chair in perfect viewing position and sit.

His smile makes me smile back. Beautiful teeth, tanned skin…oh, how I want this one! I think about him, dream about him…can feel him from the last time we were together. Why can’t things be different?

He removes his shirt and the broad sculpted torso makes my heartbeat triple. I cross my legs loosely, allowing my sex to be visible to him. Only him. He smiles his appreciation and tweaks a nipple in response.

Uhmmm. Those nipples. Flat, ringed in hair…musky when sucked too long. I close my eyes and savor the mental flavor imbued in my taste buds. I feel the urge to pinch my own, but restrain myself.

The pants are next. Belt unbuckled, pants skimming from a tight waist over muscular hips and thighs. The bulge is large and straining; yearning for me. I gap my legs wider, allowing him to have no doubt as to his effect.

Thick hands roughly push the underwear down and his dick bounces out and stands at attention. The hairs stand up on my body. So close…so far.

He rubs himself slowly, his body swaying to music not audible to my ears. I wish I could be in his arms, grooving with his groove, flowing with his flow. I touch myself lightly, jerking from the self-induced jolt.

He grabs his root and squeezes. From my viewpoint, he seems to swell before my eyes. I can do nothing but lean my head back, close my eyes and wait for the rush of desire to lessen. When I venture to open them again, he is stroking in earnest, fingers rapidly pulling, rubbing…stroking the tip. I moan in spite of myself.

I can’t take it anymore. My fingers flip the robe open, head towards my sex then… “Honey? Want some company?” my wife asks softly from my left. I never hesitate as I pull her into my arms, fuse her lips to mine, ravish her in my need.

Her fingers find my stiff pole. “Damn, you’re already hard. I love it when you get so hard for me, baby,” she coos, as she slides down my body. I should stop her…but I don’t. Her wet mouth encases my dick and moans flow from my mouth as I stare at him while he stares at me.

I pull my wife onto my lap, latch hungry lips onto a protruding nipple, never breaking eye contact with him. We stroke in concert—eyes, hands, dicks—never missing a beat across the hedges.

As he throws back his head and I watch the white expectorant propel from his lovestick, my eyes roll in my head and I cry out as my pleasure peaks. My wife’s cries mingle with mine.

An unholy trinity of fulfillment…

The window is empty when I open my eyes again. My wife’s body is bathed in sweat; her breathing rapid on my neck. I stroke her back slowly, waiting for her to come off her “love high.”

Finally, she lifts her head. “God, I love when you make love to me like that. You take me there and back.” She smiles and I see the years of love shining in her eyes. “I love you baby. Forever…” she whispers.

I never hesitate. “I love you, too.”


  • At 4:23 PM, Blogger Kayla said…

    Damn! That was intense, Lady. Job well done!



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