A Thousand Kisses Deep

The taste of your lips, your subtle kisses, are the memories that last forever…

We were off to the big city again for a night of jazz. It wasn’t just any concert; This trumpet player was known for his style that some how just breathed sensuality.

You wore a short black sleeveless dress and low heels. You looked as hot as ever, and I was horny from the moment we started the evening. It would be a long night before we had a chance to finish what just the sight of you had started.

We shared a nice Italian dinner on the way to the theater. Then, all through the concert, we held hands and swayed to the music. I kept my touch on you; I couldn’t let you go.

The highway was clear of traffic after we left the city. Still wanting to touch you, I rested my hand above your knee—but you had even racier ideas.

I couldn’t tell right away that the hem of your dress had slid far up your legs and that you were grazing my fingers up your inner thigh, millimeters higher with each passing mile marker. When I did notice, I just let you have your fun because your face was telling a story of passion. Soon enough, my fingertips would find your lace panties—wet lace panties. In a few minutes, the panties were in the door pocket, and my fingers were exploring your sanctuary.

Over the next half hour or so, you orgasmed several times. Finally home, we hurried into the house, stripping off clothes as we headed to the bedroom. Foreplay was over, and you demanded my dick be in your pussy right away. I was happy to ablige, and as wound up as we were, knew it wouldn’t take long for both of us to go over the edge. And we did!

Many years later, this is still the night we remember first when we think about the great sex we have had in over twenty years of marriage.