An Absinthe-Loving, Polyamorous, Kinky, Sex-Positive Couple talk about all things Sex, Kink, and LGBTQ.

She is my present

It was a rare night in the AbsinthePassion household; all the children were in bed and asleep before Mrs. AP and I. Considering all three of them fluctuate between day dwellers and vampires, we were exhaustedly excited to be able to get some sleep. We were also excited to be able to celebrate my birthday right as it started, shortly after midnight.

After securing the little one in her own bed elsewhere in our room, Mrs. AP and I took our nightly “help us stay asleep” meds that alleviate pain and introduce a nice lovely floaty feeling as we drift off. We have discovered a delicious other side effect of the meds is that they help us relax into and enjoy sexual matters more deeply, which I greatly appreciated when Mrs. AP reached over and started teasing her fingers up and down my chest and sides.  I wiggled and giggled and moaned lightly under the masterful touch of her divine ministrations — she always knows how to hit all the right spots to render me helpless to her spell.  Her touch became more focused, more insistent, and the moans grew stronger in reflection. Fingered dipped below my waist and teased hips, stroking across a pubic mound and sliding in that open space between abdomen and throbbing manhood. A light gasp of anticipation escaped my lips, which Mrs. AP notably pondered before rotating her wrist and wrapping her hand gently around my throbbing, dripping cock.
With a touch as deft as a concerto maestro Mrs. AP slid her hand up and down my cock, slick from my precum. A growling purr of desire emanated from her throat as her grip tightened. My cock throbbed in her hand. Her stroking grew more insistent, encouraging moans and gasps and hip thrusts from me as I became her instrument.

Increasing pace, decreasing pace, pausing … all lovely tricks Mrs. AP pulled as she coaxed a steady stream of arousal from my cock. Her hand never needed any additional lube. I provided it all, and she used it well. Her hand would twist on the upstroke, making my frenulum sing with delight. Her grip would intensify on the downstroke, causing my head to burst forth exuberantly and my shaft quiver. It was all I could do at times to contain myself, never wanting this ecstasy to end.

Seeking a different form of pleasure, I rolled onto my side and pushed Mrs. AP onto her back gently. My hand dove insistently between her legs as I gruffly, heatedly said “I want to confirm you’re as wet as I am hard.” I was not disappointed. Mrs. AP’s pussy was producing a steady stream of arousal all it’s own, allowing my middle and ring fingers to slide inside her effortlessly. The feeling I get of feeling her ready for me — hot, wet, inviting — is always one of pride and delight and primal desire that never wanes. Feeling her open around me only to embrace me firmly is a divine experience. My fingers were inside a goddess, and she was mine.

I curled my fingers upward, pressing against her front wall, and stroked that tender rough spot inside that always (and again, just now) causes her hips to buck and her back to arch and a low moan to escape her lips.  Now it was my turn to be the artist and her my instrument, and I intended to play her well. Fingers strummed a staccato rhythm inside her, accentuated by thrusts from a flexed wrist. Each push evinced her desire. In response to each thrust, a moan. Our tempo rose, our symphony of lust rising in the night, until it crashed around us. Her muscles clamped down on my fingers, her head whipped side to side, her hands clutched the pillow next to her head, and her breath caught in her throat as she exploded in orgasm beneath me. This movement was not yet over, however, as I stroked her through it into another crashing crescendo just as she was gliding down from her first peak.

Again and again, my fingers thrust and curled and coaxed inside her as she thrashed and moaned and gasped and exploded beneath me. I leaned forward, my mouth finder her neck to bite around her taught side muscle. She bucked, her hips rising off the bed, as she gasped in my ear. My free hand found her nipple and claimed it in an iron grip, twisting and pinching and pulling fiercely. Every action seemed connected to her clit. She came harder. She was under my control. She was mine to have as I chose, and I was in need. I trailed my lips up to her ear and whispered “Can you be a good girl if I feed you my cock?”

She whimpered and nodded as her pussy clenched on my fingers. I shifted, keeping my fingers buried inside her, and brought my hips up toward her head and she shifted and lunged for my cock. In one smooth motion she plunged her mouth down to the hilt. Oh, how I love the feel of her lips sliding down my cock and her tongue caressing me. More so, I love how her gasps and moans feel around my cock when her pussy is being filled. Absent a boyfriend at the moment, I made sure my fingers would do and slid my pinky inside her alongside my other two fingers. Fingers and cock established a rhythm. My fingers would curl as I pushed my cock into her mouth, and would relax when I pulled back. Faster I moved, shifting my weight so I could brace myself with a hand on the head board. I could feel Mrs. AP spasming lightly around my fingers. Micro-orgasms? Heightened unquenchable arousal? It was hard to tell.

Soon my thrusting hips became more insistent, and Mrs. AP wrapped a hand around the base of my cock. What had started as her mostly in control of a blowjob turned into me fucking her face with my cock while I fucked her pussy with my fingers. I looked down, seeing her filled from both ends, and marveled at how sexy my wife is. I’m one lucky motherfucker.

Faster and harder I fucked her mouth and pussy, now leaning completely over her for the most leverage I could get, as the tension in my cock and balls grew. I felt everything swelling, a slow build that almost seemed like it wanted to take its time before realizing that release was imminent. Between the grip of Mrs. AP’s hand on the base of my cock, and the perfect entry that she was forming with her lips, every perfect pressure point was being hit as my impending orgasm grew closer. The fingers inside her pussy stopped stroking and thrusting and just gripped her, hard — hard enough to pull her hips slightly up from the bed. I fucked her mouth like she was fuck toy, faster and harder than I think I ever have before, and she gave herself to me perfectly. One more pull back. One hard throb and swell from my cock. One more thrust and I was there.

I exploded. Volley after volley of cum rocketed out of my cock into the mouth of my sex goddess wife. She swallowed constantly. Time stopped. I swear I was locked in orgasm for several minutes, unable to stop emptying my balls, my energy, my very being across the tongue and down the throat of Mrs. AP. Spent, I collapsed across her. My one hand barely held me up enough to keep from crushing her. My other hand was still buried in her pussy.

Her pussy. Still hot, and wet, and throbbing around my fingers. My fingers curled. She gasped. I sat up, curled my fingers harder, and shifted so I could reach her to kiss her.

We shared my taste — salty and sweet in her mouth, her lips puffy and tender from being fucked. Our tongues met and danced and swirled and met again.  She hadn’t missed a drop. My fingers hadn’t left her, and they curled and thrust again. She moaned into my mouth.

I slid down to take her nipple into my mouth to bite and suck as I began fucking her with my fingers. Her hips were quick to respond, thrusting back against me as her breathing quickened. With a hard flick against her front wall and a quick nip from my teeth, she gasped and clenched down on me again. Emboldened, I slid my fingers out some and then back in harder. Her gasp turned into a moan. Clearly we were not yet done.

I shifted my weight down to give my elbow a better angle, and began fucking Mrs. AP more forcefully. My hand pulled back until only the fingertips remained. Every thrust back inside her was met with a gasp or a moan, until the two intermingled. Fingers curled up at the zenith, eliciting harder moans and sharper gasps. I took one nipple in my mouth and pinched the other between my fingers, pinched down on both, and curled my fingers up hard. Mrs. AP exploded, her entire body quivering with release. I kept curling my fingers, each stroke sending more shivers up her body. As I slowed the tempo and released her nipples, she moaned deeply. She needed more.

I increased the tempo again, fucking her with my hand, and reached the other up to her throat. Tracing her jawline, I slid my thumb down from where the angle changes and found that little hollow between her large muscle on the side and the smaller muscle in front, braced my position with my other fingers on the jawbone on the other side of her face, and squeezed. I thought she had exploded before. I was wrong.

If orgasms are fireworks, she’d only had the prelude before. This was the grand finale. Her body spasmed. Her hips bucked like she was fucking for her life. Her eyes rolled back into her head, which was thrashing like she was in a horror movie, and the moan that escaped her lips was pure primal lust. My sex goddess wife was divinity made flesh, and all was lust and sex and release. Her pussy clenched my fingers so hard I swore they’d bruise. She was sex itself, and I was along for the ride.

After several minutes, she slowly relaxed and starting coming back into herself. I released my hand from her throat and used it to brace myself as I leaned forward to kiss her. My fingers slowly slid out from inside her until just the tips remained. A gentle kiss as the pinky slid free. A more firm kiss as the ring and middle fingers followed. A gentle kiss again as I cupped her swollen, quivering, soaked pussy in the palm of my hand. My head fell against her shoulder and we lay there, catching our breath.

Neither of us had the energy for anything else. Our meds had kicked in fully and we could barely move, but move we did, to clean up what sticky messes we’d left on our thighs, before snuggling in against each other under the covers and drifting off to a well earned, well spent sleep.

It was the early hours of my birthday, and Mrs. AP had been my fuck toy slut wife for me. She is my future, but she reminded me that whenever I need a gift she will always be my present.

Stay SINful, friends.

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