I walked into the room and stopped in my tracks. It couldn’t be helped. Moving wasn’t an option. Neither was speech. All I could do in that moment was stand. Call me hypnotized, call me bewitched, call my paralyzed, but whatever I was it prevented any conscious thought or action. It couldn’t be helped. In that moment I was reduced to my primal self, stunned, struck, and nothing more than a reactionary creature. My eyes were intent, unwavering. My cock was stirring, lifting. Wanting. It couldn’t be helped. There, on the bed, holding my attention was the most wonderful sight I’d ever seen. The sight that never fails to cause thing to tighten down low, my breath to catch in my throat, words to die soundlessly upon my lips, and my very brain to forget how to function. It couldn’t be helped. Mrs. AP was on the bed, naked from the waist down. Laying there on her stomach. Swaying her hips. It couldn’t be helped.
I made my way quickly to her, laying atop her as I kissed the back of her neck and nestled my hardening cock between her legs. We began our dance together, our hips swaying to the music that we always seem to sense when we’re together. We didn’t do much thrust as we did grind. It couldn’t be helped. Our hips never separated, instead rolling against each other in waves. As we moved my cock rubbed against her pussy lips and her hardening clit; I could feel her shudders under me as she alternated between rocking her head back against mine and burying it against the sheet. Slowly, ever so slowly, her lips opened to wrap around my head and shaft as we continued our lover’s dance. It couldn’t be helped. Our hips rolled farther, her entrance caught my head, and I slid slowly inside her. Her grip was hot, wet, tight, and insistent. The more we swayed the deeper she took me, every inch deeper more hot, more wet, more tightly gripping than the last. I love these moments when she takes me in before she’s fully prepared, when it’s almost a fight to get inside her and her grip is so tight that it’s a wonder I ever fit at all. That halfway state between interested and fully aroused is incredible, and sometimes so much so that it feels my cock won’t be able to handle the pressure.
As the tempo of our lover’s dance increased our movements shifted us. It couldn’t be helped; I was now more behind her than atop her as I buried myself to the hilt with each thrust. I reached around her to grab her 38DDD breasts, giving them firm squeezes as I used them for additional leverage to pull her back against me, but the angle was awkward and I couldn’t support myself on my elbows for more than a minute or two. Leaning back toward a more kneeling position I ran my fingers and nails up and down her back. My thrust became slower as I felt that familiar pressure starting to build, and I concentrated more on Mrs. AP’s back, trying to scratch and pinch and grip in the ways I know send her pleasure levels soaring and her head reeling with delight. Her moans and gasps and the waves rippling through her pussy let me know I was doing something right; they also served to push me closer to the edge. Knowing I was soon to lose the battle I increased my pace, moving from a slow lover’s dance to a hard fucking now, trying to kick Mrs. AP into another plane of pleasured existence. It couldn’t be helped. Her breathing came faster, her moans came louder, and I came. I never stopped thrusting, I just kept filling her as I was filling her. My pulses and thrusts seemed to send her off again, as she pressed her cheek hard against the mattress and uttered a constant string of moans and groans and gasps.
I kept going, my cock refusing to soften. My hips refused to leave Mrs. AP’s, with every pull away met with a faster and harder return. It couldn’t be helped. The energy connection with us suddenly blew wide open, and I could feel every pulse, every wave of orgasm as it hit her and rolled over me. For several minutes I lost myself in her, waves of pleasure racking us both as each of her orgasms triggered a rolling orgasm within me. I heard myself groaning somewhere off in the distance and somehow knew that I was cumming without ejaculating again, but had no control over it; everything was movement and energy and dancing and grinding all rolled into one galactic cloud of bliss. We swirled around and through and about each other until suddenly a supernova of pleasure hit me and rendered me immobile. I sat there, buried within Mrs. AP still, feeling her pulse around me and me pulse within her, gasping for breath. It couldn’t be helped. I realized I was dizzy. I slowly pulled out of Mrs. AP, my cock still hard and throbbing, and collapsed next to her. We snuggled a bit before the typical post-coital bladder alarms started ringing.
As we lay together again afterward, Mrs. AP remarked that she was a touch sore, and took this as a sign that we’ve been too infrequent in our sexual relief together lately. She’s right, of course, as she most always is. We’ve been riding through in waves the past several months, ranging from once or twice a week to once a twice a day. While we’re not quite in either extreme right now, we are somewhere in the two to four times a week range right now, which is lower than either of us would like. There are several reasons of course, some of which can’t be helped yet. We’re in cramped quarters in our current apartment, schedules have been stressed with school starting for the children, and the RNC being in town is adding stress to my day job, which in turn is preventing me from doing work I’d like to be doing for my consulting client. Our bed, while not as bad as it was a few weeks ago, still isn’t as soft as we’d like, so we’re less rested and more sore than we need. The combination is enough to make any couple suffer a dip.
That fact notwithstanding, nobody gets my blood boiling or my cock raging the way Mrs. AP does. Nobody ever has. She is my love, my life, and the object of my dreams, sexual or otherwise. I know what life is like without her, and I am resolved to never go back to that.
At the end of the day, in and out of bed, Mrs. AP is my partner, my love, and my desire, and I’m one damn lucky man to be able to say she feels the same way.
Stay SINful, friends.