It started in the middle of the night. So early in the morning that you can get away with calling it late night. Nothing was up or stirring.
Well, almost nothing.
I don't know what I felt first. His cock twitching against my hip or his hand on my breast, pinching my nipple.
My legs parted. My back arched.
I didn't open my eyes.
He pulled my hips against his pelvis. I spread my legs wider.
My hips moved back and forth, riding his length, coating his shaft in sticky fluids already dribbling from my body.
Back and forth. Back and forth.
I wanted him inside of me, but I also wanted that slip-sliding feeling to continue. A few more strokes, and I might just get off.
Instead, he stopped me, pushed me forward, grabbed his cock, and rammed it deep inside my pussy.
My eyes were still closed.
He was quiet for once. Maybe he was half asleep, too?
This would certainly be a different perspective on night emissions, if he wasn't really awake, but I wasn't about to complain.
Squelching. Slurping. We moved together, equals in our desires. My cunt sucked him in. His warmth surrounded me, inside and out.
The only sound between us was a quiet groan as he thrust one last time, his come spurting deep in my body.
If not for the cold jizz leaking out of my body a few minutes later, I might have fallen back asleep and wondered if it was all a dream.
Welcome to Masturbation Monday! Here's the part that isn't sexy - after I got out of bed to clean us up (I really don't like the feeling of cold come on my skin), John Brownstone picked up his phone - an odd thing for him to do at 2-something in the morning - to find a fraud alert from our bank. Someone had tried to use his debit card number (the card was still in his wallet) at a local gas station. What should have ended with post-coital blissful sleep turned into more than an hour of being awake, dealing with the bank, and trying to go back to sleep. But I'd rather focus on the fucking that started it all.
Okay, go forth and enjoy more smut, y'all!