In loving memory of Woofer: 11/22/50 – 3/13/03
I don’t know what time it is, and I carefully avoid letting my eyes wander to the glowing numerals on the bedside clock. I should be asleep. I have to be at work in a couple of hours. Whatever woke me is silent now, and I hear your slow, rhythmic breathing beside me as you sleep. The vague light of false dawn creeps in through the open window to fall like a translucent blanket across your hair and shoulders.
I tentatively reach out to pull a wayward lock of hair back from across your lips. I’m glad you’re a sound sleeper. You always have been, and I thank the ancestors who lent that quirk to your genetic makeup.
Thirty-two years together, and you still excite me as no other ever has.
I lay my hand lightly on the firm mound of your ass. Your nightgown has worked its way up to your waist again, like it always does when you sleep on your side, facing away from me. The years haven’t changed one thing. You still have a beautiful ass.
I slide my hand down between the firm globes and run a finger along the smooth folds of flesh where your thighs meet. Even asleep, you quickly become wet as I stroke you softly.
I can feel the warmth of your body as I slide quietly against you, my hardness pressing against your yielding flesh. I know if I move too fast, you’ll awaken. Though I know you won’t stop me from having my way, I want you to remain innocently unaware of what is happening. Though I’ve always tried to make sure you were satisfied, There are times when my selfish nature demands that I have some time that is mine alone: just for me. I’ll make it up to you later, as I always do.
You stir in your sleep, and I pause, waiting until your breathing becomes regular once more before reaching down to guide the head of my throbbing cock against the warm, wet lips of your pussy. It’s amazing how tight you still are, even after two children.
Careful not to wake you, I slip my hardness inside you a fraction of an inch at a time. Each time you start to awaken, I stop again, enjoying the ripples that seem to search the object that invades you, exploring my shaft as it stretches the tender flesh inside you.
I can feel every ruffle and crease as the tight sheath of your sex engulfs me ever so slowly. When my full length is inside you, I lay still for long minutes, savoring the heat and the throb of your heartbeat. Your eyes dart beneath their lids as you dream. I wonder what they see.
My hand slowly finds its way under your gown and up, until I feel the softness of a breast beneath my fingers. I gently brush my fingertips across your nipple and feel it harden under my touch. The darker aureole that surrounds it shrinking, pushing it against my palm. Full, firm breasts, not the products of implant technology.
Gently taking the fleshy bud between my thumb and finger, I roll it and feel your pulse quicken, your breathing slightly faster, and I stop until you’re sleeping soundly again. I can’t help but smile; it won’t be the first time I’ve left a mess for you to clean up in the morning!
When I can no longer stand the waiting, I start to slide my throbbing member slowly in and out. Though I didn’t think it possible, I’ve grown even harder.
You stir again, a sigh muffled by your pillow where your lips press against it. I stop, but you just shift your hips farther back against me, allowing me even deeper into your intimate recesses. I feel the head of my cock touch bottom, and I pull back slightly when you moan low in your throat. I don’t want to wake you. This is my time to be selfish, and I am going to enjoy it for as long as I want.
I spend the next half hour moving slowly inside you, savoring the wet heat of you. Your lips form a small smile, and I wonder what thoughts and vivid images consume your dreams. Are you with me, or some faceless stranger who invades your tender flesh, forcing you to tend his every need. His every whim? Perhaps you’re his sex slave, unable to refuse his will. Is he doing all the things I do to set your passion ablaze, or is he just taking you by force. Sometimes you like me to force you to use your tongue, your lips and fingers to please me? Perhaps he’s an old flame, come back to take you in his arms again, the way he did so long ago. I don’t care, as long as you enjoy the dream as much as I’m enjoying your sleeping body.
As hard as I try, I can’t last any longer, and I feel my seed start to boil inside me. I thrust as deep as I can inside your clasping pussy, the head of my cock pressed tightly against your yielding depths, and you move back against me in fitful slumber as I thrust harder.
My semen seems to take forever to reach its goal. I can feel it work its way up the shaft of my pulsing cock, the delicious tickle seeming to take forever until it finally shoots into you, coating the throbbing walls of your pussy, and squeezing back in waves, along my turgid shaft.
I reach around you, drawing you tighter against me to better feel the last drops of my hot, sticky cum fill you as you wake. You try to roll away, but I hold you tight, not wanting to slip out of your warmth just yet.
You brush back a wayward lock of hair from your face as you turn your jade green eyes toward me, still drowsy with sleep. I feel a slight pang of guilt for waking you in the wee hours before dawn, but any guilt is quickly erased by the ecstasy of my release.
You reach a delicate finger down to stroke the bud of your clit where it rests against my softening cock, and continue to stroke yourself until I feel the muscles inside you pulse against my shaft. I know you’ve brought yourself to orgasm quickly. Were you awake longer than I suspected? Were you aware of what I was doing to you? If so, thank you for not letting on.
You give me a sleepy smile as I stroke a delicately soft breast, cupping its firmness. “Why didn’t you wake me?” you whisper.
Your fingers trace the length of my rapidly deflating manhood as it starts to slip out of you, coated with the slickness of our combined juices. A coy smile stretches the corners of your lips as you raise your fingers from your pussy, making a show of running your talented tongue over their glistening tips. I know that hot little tongue will be licking me clean in minutes, then urging me to give you another orgasm as soon as I’m hard again.
“Because,” I answer, my lips against the softness of your throat. “Some things are just too good to share.”
–Buckshot
