Katie and I worked on this one together. It’s written from the perspective of a housewife and mother who longs to reconnect sexually with her man. Though it’s a work of fiction and fantasy, we’re sure it’s something many of us can relate to. We’d like to make it a multi-part story if we find the time.
“Come back to bed,” he says. He doesn’t have to ask me twice. What is it about vacation sex that just works for a woman?
I had awakened early to the sound of waves lapping against the sandy beach below our condo. Normally, they would be beautiful in and of themselves. But this morning they took on a whole new meaning. They were a welcome reminder of the lapping my handsome husband did between my legs last night.
I feel the same butterflies he gave me the first night we made love nearly a decade ago. I let the terrycloth robe slip from my shoulders into a puddle on the floor. I stood in front of him, feeling far more confident than I usually do. Two months worth of crash dieting and some lacey new lingerie can do that for you.
But it isn’t just that.
Really, truly. A couple again for the first time in over two years. No screaming kids. No runny noses. No interruptions. No distractions.
Nothing but the two of us here, in paradise. Drinking in the welcome sight of each other.
I slide onto the bed, limbs stretching, hips swaying as I crawl towards him. His fingertips trace my soft curves. My lips meet his, parting enough to slip him my tongue. We kiss sensually. He slides my thong panties down around my thighs. His hands glide up to the treasure between my legs.
I’m already wet. Dripping wet. Soaked from a night of naughty dreams and an early morning of sustained fantasizing. Though I don’t tell him, I’ve been hot for him ever since I woke up. I’ve been waiting—impatiently—for him to rise. I have a collection of erotic stories on my phone I’ve been wanting to share with him. I can’t resist touching myself as I read.
We used to tell each other everything, from hopes and fears to fantasies. But lately, the life we’ve made together—complete with three kids, two dogs, and a mortgage—has forced us to shift our priorities. It’s not that our life is drudgery—it’s anything but. I love our life, our family, our rhythms, and our kids. But sometimes, I just miss him.
I miss the nights we used to spend making love. Our wet, naked bodies intertwined. Hungrily pawing at each other until that final thrust gave way to release. Then cuddles and late-night conversation. I miss the longing in those lazy Saturday mornings. The way he’d wake me with his warm tongue hot for my pussy. I miss returning the favor. I miss sucking him off in the shower, the welcome spray pelting me as I gulp down his cum. I miss the way he’d hold me, drenched in steam, and lovingly wash my hair. We had time for that sort of luxuriating back then.
The last few days have been a reminder of what we used to be. And also what we can become again when we take the opportunity to rediscover.
I slide my hand under the covers, searching for him. My fingernails rake gently down his stomach till I curl my fingers around his girth. He’s thick and long even though I have room to grow him. I coax him to life against my palm as I moan into his mouth, “Ohhhh, finger me, baby…” My whimpers betray me, adding to my wetness. He knows how much I want him. How much I want him to be hard for me.
I should be fucking exhausted from last night—no pun intended. It’s a wonder our neighbors didn’t call the front desk with the amount of noise he elicited from me. My pussy is still sore from the pounding he dolled out. Face down, ass up. My cheeks red from his hand against them. He emptied himself inside of me, not once but twice.
I love being his plaything. Being manhandled and fucked like it’s the last sex we’ll ever have. It’s such an escape from the grind of daily life. The appearances, the act, the need to have it all together, to put on a face. With him, I can relax, fully giving myself over to pleasure.
But God, it’s been so long.
I kiss down his neck, then chest and stomach, and hold his cock proudly in front of me. I gaze into his eyes, licking him from balls to tip. My tongue scoops the gooey puddle of precum off of his swollen head. He groans as I arch my back and impale my face on him.
“Fuck…” I gasp as I come up for air. I pepper his shaft with soft kisses and little licks. “Have I told you lately how much I’ve missed sucking this cock?”
I watch his eyes widen as he tells me, “You’re driving me crazy…”
“Think you’ll still be able to fuck me if I suck you dry right now?” I ask, giving him a wry smile.
“That…that’s not gonna be a problem,” he says. His eyes are hot for me, his gaze intense.
“Promise?” I say sweetly.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I slide him past my lips once more, inch by delicious inch. Up and down, up and down. My head bobs as I chase my mouth with corkscrewing fingers. I tug his skin, stroking, pulling, milking all that manhood. I’m a woman on a mission.
I’m eager to taste him. Eager to watch his eyes roll back as he gushes into me, releasing his load down my throat.
“I want your cum,” I say, his juices already glazing my lips. “Give it all to me.”
He’s close now. I can tell by the way he’s thrusting, taking control and using my mouth like a pussy. His ass clenches as he bucks. And before I know it, he’s holding my head and fucking me on a fast track to release.
“Oh my god, baby—oh my god. I’m gonna—oh fuck—I’m cumming.”
His groan is primal as he lurches, pumping wave after wave of his cream into my mouth. It’s so much I can’t contain it. I swallow what I can, letting the rest spill out my lips, down his shaft, and over my fingers.
I jerk him slowly, milking the rest out of him. My cum soaked fingers wrapped around his softening shaft. I’m dizzy with lust. The last of his cum squeezes from his head and cascades down his shaft.
“So hot…” I mumble. I wipe some of his sweet goo off my lips and into my mouth to swallow. I lick my fingers clean. Then I move up to mount his chest. My hands grip tight against the headboard as I slide my pussy up to his face. Without asking, I lower myself, opening my legs for the taking. His tongue greets my pussy with a reckless abandon.
I spread myself wide for him, my pussy awash in his capable tongue. I can feel how hungry he is for me. God, it feels so good to be wanted this way!
His licker explores the smoothness of my Brazilian waxed skin. It snakes its way between pussy and pucker, teasing the entrance of both my holes. His big hands knead my ass cheeks as he feasts on me. My knees go weak, and my weight rests on him. My pussy smothers his face, smearing my wetness on him. He groans his approval, driving his tongue further into me.
“Oh god—fuck, yes—eat me,” I beg him. “My little pussy needs it.”
It’ll be at least 15 minutes before he can get good and hard again. That means the fucking I crave will have to wait. In truth, the oral sex feels so good that I think about cashing in on the main event after we’ve had our breakfast. Maybe we’ll save it for our afternoon stroll down the stretch of beach in front of our resort.
They say anticipation makes the pussy grow fonder, don’t they?
“Oh god, baby, that feels soooooo good,” I moan, as he thrusts his tongue inside me. I finger my clit in furious little circles with one hand while the other braces me.
“Play with my tits,” I tell him. It isn’t long before his hands are cupping my breasts and squeezing them inside my bra. My nipples are hard as pencil erasers, another dead ringer for my level of arousal.
My husband says he’s more of an ass man, but I’ve always been a breast woman. I love having my nipples licked, sucked, or pinched. It’s one of the surest ways to take me from zero to orgasm in no time. I slide off his mouth and back down his chest. He plays with my tits as I masturbate in front of him.
I feel sexy, womanly, and sooo naughty as I buck against my hand. I alternate between rubbing my clit and thrusting my fingers in and out of me. Half putting on a show, half satisfying my own needs. For the moment, I’m not sure which part is turning me on more.
“It feels so good. My pussy is so swollen,” I moan. I bite my lip and hump his torso, dragging my wetness along that barrel chest of his. “Suck my nipples, baby….”
I hold his head to my chest as he takes each pink pointer into his warm mouth. He swirls his tongue around them, licking and flicking and sucking them. I look over my shoulder as I ride his chest. He’s stroking his cock in his hand again. He’s growing–and fast. It won’t be long now.
“Mmmm…got something for me?” I pant.
“Oh, I’ve got something for you.” His words are hot and heavy against my chest. I can feel his intensity the way he’s making love to my breasts.
I back down him until the tip of his swollen cock touches my gooey slit. “I want it. Put your big cock in me,” I tell him.
“If you want it, you’re going to have to beg for it,” he says, running his tip up and down my pussy.
I love when he gets all dom on me.
“Please,” I whimper in my girliest voice. “Please put your cock in me.”
“If I do, you need to promise me something.” He’s kissing my neck now, working his way to my ear. “Promise me you’ll be a good girl and not cum until I say so.”
Fuck, he knows how to rev my engine.
“I promise, baby. I’ll be so good. I’ll let you fuck me and fuck me and won’t cum until you say.”
I’d like to think I know how to rev his as well.
“Good girl,” he growls, as he eases himself into me. He’s big, making me feel full and uncomfortable at first. But a good uncomfortable. I love how small and tight he makes me feel, wrapped in his arms, stretched open by his cock.
I begin to relax around him as he moves in and out of me, burying himself in me to the hilt with each thrust.
“Oh god,” I gasp, my fingers finding my clit once more.
“Remember what I said…” he reminds me. “You don’t cum until I tell you too.”
“Yes,” I whimper. A small moan escapes me as he takes one of my nipples back between his lips.
He palms my ass, squeezing my naked cheeks as he holds me in place for the taking. His pace quickens. How long can he hold out the way he’s fucking me? I know I can’t wait much longer.
“God—yes—oh fuck me, baby—fuck me harder,” I cry out. I furiously finger my clit as he rails into me.
“Don’t—don’t cum yet,” he grunts. “Wait…”
“I can’t—ohhh I can’t,” I protest. I slow the circles on my clit. My face is a twisted confliction of eros and agony.
He slows too, his thrusts intentional as he locks passionate eyes with me. “You ready?” he asks, his gaze piercing.
“Yes,” I say, in barely more than a whisper.
‘Then cum for me, baby.” He fucks me slow and hard. My ass is slapping against his pelvis with every thrust.
“Now,” he says, picking up the speed a little as I finger myself harder. It takes me a second to get there. But when I do—oh god, when I do!
My orgasm rages through me. Muscles flexing. Pussy clenching. His cock is in a vice grip as I buck against him. I watch his mouth drop open in an orgasmic O as he releases inside of me, filling me with his warm cum.
“Oh god—fuck—yesssssssssss….” I cry, riding the orgasm out on top of him. His groan is primal. His hands are groping, grasping, and feeling every part of my body he can get his hands on.
We rock together, moaning and panting until I collapse in a heap on top of him. He holds me, running his fingers through my long hair and along my back. He kisses my neck and whispers to me how much he loves me.
It’s but one snapshot of a week to ourselves that is only destined to get hotter, more intimate, more binding. It’s the first full day of vacation. And though the weather outside is perfect, I’ve never been more content to stay in bed.
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