I wish I could be bringing you a sexy update, SINful friends. I know, we’re three posts into the new year and I’ve not given details on any mind blowing orgasms, incredible blowjobs, or delicious squirtings. It’s hard, you see, to have such wonderful times when there’s a three year old sleeping in your bed. Although things can get amusing when she decides to wake up after sleeping in her “big girl bed” on the floor next to yours.
In this increasingly digital world, we all seem to have at least one. Some of us have many more. At this very moment I sit at my desk, finished with a day of work, with 5 different glowing screens around me. You might say I’m a bit of a gadget whore.
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.
For roughly the last six hours today, while struggling through work, I have found myself craving the taste of Mrs. AP under my tongue. I love trailing my lips across her skin, exploring her lips and her neck, meandering down to her luscious breasts and erect nipples, The feeling of her nipples hardening, puckering, rising underneath my tongue and against my lips is one of the divine pleasures of being able to explore the fantastic curves of my wife’s body. Right now, though, in particular, I yearn for something very specific.
I long for running my tongue and trailing my lips down from the soft, pouty lips of Mrs. AP, caressing down her delectable neck, and into the glorious cleft of her cleavage. Downward still, strolling my tongue across the beauty of her stomach and teasing over the rise and fall of her sensuous mons pubis before spiraling slowly inward and down until my lips and tongue nestle into the perfect placement between her long, lean legs.
Oh, but to dip my tongue between her lips and gently coax them wide. Her heat, her scent, dancing across my taste buds to encourage deeper, more forceful explorations. Flattening my tongue, pressing, entering, to be greeted by the sweet taste of my beloved’s arousal. Sweet!, but not in a honey way, or even vanilla and strawberry, like most people like to use for descriptors of sexual juices. She’s more primal and raw, like what would happen if the forest and panthers and hibiscus and orchid and pomegranate and the nectar from lilies could all be blended together and then coaxed forth from within her. This! This is for what I long, and crave, and cannot shake from my mind for hours upon end today!
Oh, but I shall be home soon, and then, for all that is good and naked and wonderful in this world, will I close and lock my door, and strip my gorgeous wife bare, and explore her every twitch and tremble with my tongue until her sweet, subtle nectar becomes a flood upon my tongue and across my cheeks, and she gasps my name and grips the sheets and loses herself into the bliss of erotic release, and then! Oh, but then I will still be thirsty, and will have to drink of her some more until her crescendo repeats, again and again, until she can bear no more and must both push me away and pull me upward so that more than my tongue will slide between that velvety lips.
Soon. Soon. For my daydreams are vivid, and my need is pressing, and the memory of the taste of my wife is … sweet.
Stay SINful, friends.
Tonight is my thirteenth night away from home, which also makes it my thirteenth night away from Mrs. AP. Except for that one bad stint in the hospital last year, this is the longest she and I have been unable to sleep beside each other since February, 2010. When I left for this current business trip we thought I would only be gone nine nights. Obviously that has changed. Delays for the job led to delays coming home. There’s been naught I can do about that, no matter how lonely the bed feels when I’m the only occupant.
The night before I left was also the end of our first full day home after evacuating from Hurricane Matthew — we live on the coast now, which made us a rather high target zone — and we’d had no time or privacy in which to engage in any amorous bonding while we were dodging the storm. The friends who took us in are wonderful, but we couldn’t exactly ask them if we could borrow their room and their bed for some spousal alone time. Etiquette is a real party spoiler sometimes. But hey, no damage to the house, and we saw good friends we’d missed, so I guess that’s the silver lining there, right?
Regardless, knowing I was going to be leaving and knowing we hadn’t been able to play when we’d wanted to for far too many days, even while exhausted, while Mrs. AP and I were cuddling very late into the night, and once I heard our youngest finally settle down for the night I, started caressing Mrs. AP’s delectable body in that way that very clearly broadcasts that I’d like to do more than caress.
I teased her breasts and her nipples, letting the edges of my palms just brush the edges of her areolas, and our mouths explored each other. Her tongue darted against my lips, seeking, imploring entrance, which was granted eagerly. As our tongues danced to the rhythm of our needs my hands grew more insistent, cupping her nipples and her breasts and squeezing. Gently at first, and then more firmly, my hand pulsed in time with our lips and tongues. My efforts were rewarded with her luscious nipples hardening under my ministrations, becoming firm and puckered in that way that begs for attention. With a gentle squeeze I obliged, but only momentarily before sliding my hand down her silky smooth skin and across the valley of her pubic mound before dipping between the folds of her perfection. As my middle finger slipped between her lips, it was greeted with a warm, wet welcome. The body of my wife, my lover, my beloved was entreating me to enter her. How could I decline such an enthusiastic invitation?
I should be asleep right now, but insomnia awoke me, and the urge to write something … anything … hit me upside the head like a hard, thick, wet cock. Ergo, I’m playing along. Enter, and find within answers to mysteries, won’t you, my SINful friend?
Red spent the weekend over for his Birthday, and he’d been joking since the week prior that one of the things he wanted for his birthday was another threesome with Mrs. AP and me — it had been some time since our last one — and as the week went by my mind kept turning more and more to both how much I love watching Mrs. AP when we have another man in our bed and also how much I miss sliding my lips down a nice hard cock and how Red has repeatedly said he needs to be “not so sober” for that to happen.
Lo and behold, during dinner Red availed himself of some recently acquired Sake to become very quickly inebriated. Aloud, my jokes and innuendos about him joining us became more obvious (to me, at least) while internally I started wondering how he’d taste, if he’d rise to the occasion, etc.. After all, I know I can be persuasive once my lips are on somebody, but I’d need his full consent for that and even drunk he might not grant that. Still, I wondered, and open flirted, and hinted, and only kept some outright comments to myself because the children were still awake and there are some invitations they just don’t need to hear. We carried on for roughly 30 minutes with our back and forth bantering and flirting until suddenly!… Red declared himself drunkenly exhausted and stumbled off to bed to sleep for 8 hours.
As I later told Mrs. AP while we were lying in bed, I was a little butt-hurt, but it was of my own making. I’d not been clear enough in my invitation, and expecting somebody else to properly interpret flirting and innuendo — particularly in an inebriated state — is unfair. It’s also not like I’ve forever ruined our chances of having another man, or specifically Red, join us in bed; he’s over all the time, plus we’re more actively looking for another lover. Just because I wasn’t able to satisfy my threesome craving right then and there doesn’t mean I won’t be able to scratch that itch later. Until then, there are plenty of other ways to meet needs, and Mrs. AP and I had some other needs that were needing met. Our talk faded into soft kisses, which slowly grew more bold and intense until our lips risked bruising from our passion. We shifted, one our sides and pressed together, so that my hand could slide down between Mrs. AP’s open legs, where I found her freshly shaven, hot, wet, and ready for me.
We were snuggling in bed, Mrs. AP and I. Her hand was lazily teasing my thighs and cock, brushing and stroking without any real intent. As we kissed and snuggled, her caresses got the better of me, and soon my cock was a raging hardon monster desperately needing something to destroy. Our only problem was that we’re still in the “no intercourse allowed” stage of the post-delivery period. Lucky for me, my wife is understanding of such things and loves to please me.
Her hand gripped my cock firmly, sliding the skin up and down over the edge of the flare of my head. She milked me slowly, bringing forth multiple gushes of pre-cum until my head and her hand were coated. Giggling just a little, she switched her technique to stroking the full length of my throbbing cock, adding just a tiny flick of her wrist every time she stroked back up against the head. In very short order my hips were bucking and my breath was coming in small gasps as she brought me right to the edge.
And held me there.
The other night Mrs. AP and I celebrated my birthday in spectacular fashion. Those of you out in Twitter land already heard about some of it, but for the rest of you, here’s a run down (or a marathon down?) of what happened:
Mrs. AP is always very eager to please me anytime something worth celebrating rolls around. Okay, she’s very eager to please me all the time, as am I with her, so really there’s nothing terribly new in that aspect, but birthdays in particular are extra special. Anything goes for birthdays, and this night was no exception. We started the night just holding each other and talking, all distractions like TV and phones put away and turned off. We’d not well and truly talked about how we’re doing, what we want, and how to approach those things in quite some time. The best part of our relationship is how well we communicate when we both relax and share ourselves with each other, and while we’d never lost that ability we’d been focusing on so many other things this past year that we’d let slip some of that bonding time we need.
As our talking became more pervy and kinky the conversation delved into group sex and bi-boi play and how well some of our past lovers worked with us then and could again in the future. Talking of our past lovers always gets me excited, as scenes from our adventures play out on the film screen in my mind; images of Mrs. AP sliding down the largest cock I’ve ever seen in person while I hold it in place; images of her mouth sucking on a cock so intensely that she doesn’t get any warning before it explodes in her mouth; images of her on her back being roughly fucked while my cock muffles her deep moans. I can’t help but get hard at the thought of what we’ve done and what we might do again. Mrs. AP takes great delight in this and is sure to stroke and tease my cock until the pre-cum has formed puddles on my stomach. Talk soon turned to things we’ve not yet done, in which mention of DP and DVP came up. As we were discussing the pros and cons of the lovely cocks with which these things might happen vis a vis who could actually fit in which locations, one of us made mention of having one of those lovely cocks slide inside my tight ass.
The subject had been breached, and I was feeling relaxed, confident, and aroused enough to agree, or perhaps even insist, on us breaking out the toy box and seeing just how well our collection of toys could fit inside me. After all, if I couldn’t handle being filled by imitation cock there wasn’t much likelihood of me handling a real one, and it had been quite some time since Mrs. AP had flogged me and fucked me. In a flash Mrs. AP was off to the shower — I’d showered earlier in the evening — while I prepared the room. Top sheet and comforter were moved to the end of the bed and tucked neatly into quick-pull piles in case we got cold. Pillows were arranged at the top of the bed for maximum comfort and bed space. Candles were lit. Towels were laid down. Toy box, cleaner, gloves, condoms, and baby wipes were laid out for easy access.
Mrs. AP came back into the room to find me laying naked on the bed, my cock hard and throbbing for her. Not for her and one of our lovers. Not for her and Red and Red’s new girlfriend who were sleeping in the other room. All for her and for the deliciously deep dicking she was going to give me. She put her hair up and settled down between my legs, leaning forward to give my pulsing cock a long lick and a slow suck on the head before pulling her head up slowly until I audibly popped out of her mouth. She asked me which toys I wanted, and with a quick review session of our options I chose all the “life like” toy cocks we have, all of which happen to be Vac-U-Lock compatible. Toys selected, Mrs. AP slid a glove on her left hand cleaned all the toys with the spray toy cleaner we use. Those matters settled, she wiped her gloved hand dry of the cleaner and then lubed it up, and with her right hand wrapped around my cock she began teasing my ass with her finger. Just a gentle tease at first, circling the edge of my tight little rosebud before rubbing across it lightly. Slowly she added more pressure as the tease became a massage. As I relaxed into it and felt the pressure grow from pressing to encouraging my backdoor slowly opened and invited her finger in. As she passed through the first ring of muscle I gasped. As she passed through the second ring of muscle I groaned. Oh, how I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed this. My ass was ripe for the taking, and Mrs. AP was ready to take.
Friday night Mrs. AP and I attended a concert at local club. The headline artist was one of the pioneers in the electronic trance genre, which resulted in nearly non-stop moving and dancing for hours on end. We had been invited at the request of new friends — a male and female couple — Mrs. AP had made at a house party a few weeks prior.
While we were one the dance floor with our friends, Mrs. AP leaned in to me to let me know that “there’s something special” about the woman of couple, whom I shall call SCS (Short Cute and Sweet). I grinned like the cheshire car and told her to go with whatever feelings hit her.
Over the course of the night I bore witness to Mrs. AP and SCS making out repeatedly, groping and fondling each other, and making long assaults on each other’s nipples via lips and teeth. Mrs. AP also engaged in a deep soulful kiss with SCS’ boyfriend. All of this, of course, in the middle of a pack of moving, dancing people on the dance floor, and in between her and I making out and groping each other nearly non-stop.
Nights like this remind me just how freeing it is to be Poly. While we needn’t be always on the lookout for new people in our lives, being able to take advantages of situations like this when they arise and not only feel no guilt or remorse but also feel intense joy and happiness for our partner/s in the process is empowering. Mrs. AP was free and carefree with SCS, and it was an absolute joy to watch. I’ve never seen Mrs. AP so entranced by another woman before. To that point, I’ve never seen Mrs. AP express outright desire to pursue another woman before, much less initiate a deep kiss.
I look forward to seeing just where this leads.
Stay SINful, friends.
We were alone in our hotel room. No children, roommates, or pets around to cause distractions. We had the “Rock Star Suite”, which wasn’t so much a suite as it was a standard room, but it was a room without a window, which meant we didn’t even have a view of the city to distract us. We had little or as much light as we wanted. Most importantly, we had each other. In our brief freedom from the rest of the world, we were going to do some exploring of one another, and in the process of doing so would hope to add a new staple item to our sexual repertoire.
We started with watching a video Mrs. AP had found that went over some of the more technical details. I paid close attention, mildly turned on and responding by rising some to the occasion, but more caught in absorbing most of the presented knowledge as possible. This was important, and a big step if we could achieve our goal. As such, I wanted to do my best, not only for her pleasure but also for my pride.
Video complete, we moved her laptop over to the nightstand. Mrs. AP lay back, her nude body almost glowing in the soft light. Her large, firm breasts rose and fell with each breath as she looked at me expectantly. My hands trailed up her body, caressing her long legs, teasing her thighs, tracing up her stomach, and finally cupping her breasts. I pinched her nipples, rolling them between my forceful fingers. I squeezed her breasts, massaging them as I kept a tight grip on her hardening nipples. Leaning forward I captured her mouth with mine and poured every ounce of passion I had within me into claiming her lips, her tongue, her breath as mine. We melted into each other as I slid my right hand down her body, slowly, fingers gliding over every available inch. My hand reached the top of her mound, where I could feel the heat rising from her. Further down, fingertips brushing against her clit and down, down, until my hand cupped her pussy. Slowly my finger slid inside her lips, feeling her open and yearning for me, hot and wet and waiting.
Three years ago I had my first date with Mrs. AP. My life changed for the better that day. I could never ask for a more wonderful, loving, caring, supportive, sexual, sensual, intelligent, witty, charming, enlightening partner. Even if I did ask, the search results would come back blank. Mrs. AP is the perfect woman for me. I’m ever so glad she found me.
Mrs. AP, My Love, I’ve said it before and I say it again; I’m yours, always for forever. Thank you for taking a chance on me, and for letting me take one with you. The returns have been beyond anything I could ever have imagined I deserved, but you’ve taught me that I deserve the best. I found the best in you. I love you with everything within me.
Stay SINful, friends.
After the Mrs. AP and I got home from our party Friday night we needed some serious reconnecting and cuddling time. We’re both a bit introverted by nature, and large parties leave us both feeling more drained than energized. Our strategy is usually to stay off to the side and really only engage with the few people we already know or to whom we are introduced. The conversations tend to get a little deeper and more involved and personal that way as well, which for us is more fulfilling. Also, it leaves us out of the way when somebody right in the middle of the crowd does something less than intelligent.
So there we were, back in our bed, snuggling against each other, chatting and … not chatting … and enjoying each other’s company. Mrs. AP hand was trailing up and down my chest and then down to my legs, where she started teasing my legs. My legs are incredibly sensitive most of the time, and tonight was no different. In short order I was twitching, gasping, and moaning under the stroke of her fingers and the light scratching of her nails. She grinned, pleased as a cat with cream, and whispered in my ear “just imagine me on one side, Our Date on the other, his hard cock pressing against your leg, as we both tease and play with your legs until you can barely breathe.”
My breath caught. All I could do was nod for a moment. The mental image of being pounced by two such lovely people was almost two much. I know my cock throbbed. Pulsed. Yearned for her touch, his touch, somebody’s touch. Mrs. AP is a sadist at times, though, and she took her time teasing my thighs and the cleft between my legs and pelvic bone. Slowly, methodically, she caressed my balls and ran her nails across them before sliding her hand up to glide her palm up my shaft. Slowing her movement she cupped her palm over the head of my now very full, very hard, very throbbing cock and slowly rotated and swirled.
It had been a long day. We had started it early, as parents of schoolchildren tend to do, by getting the kids off to school. This was followed by a follow-up appointment to make sure all was well after our still-tender ordeal with the miscarriage. Mrs. AP and I are still prone to sudden bouts of deep sadness regarding our loss, and this trip (while absolutely necessary) heightened this sensitivity. Despite this, we were treated by a very knowledgeable, compassionate, and helpful RN who provided some helpful contact information for a clinic closer to the house that can provide all the additional services we need. Armed with new knowledge, we were then given the best news of the day: we can resume normal adult activities! Huzzah! Carnal celebrations to come!
Blessed with knowledge and having a whole day ahead of us, we started hopping around various used car lots to sit in and test drive as many reasonable vehicles as we could in hopes of finally finding something we can pursue. 6 hours, a dozen lots, and lots of talking to salesmen later we had ruled several vehicles off our lists and perhaps added one or two others. The trick will be to find the required funds for the purchase / down payment, but Mrs. AP is extremely skilled at finding extraordinary deals. Following a stop for a bite to eat and some shopping to get some new sheets and a new waterproof pad for the bed, we finally made it home after only 12 hours out of the house. We got the kids tidied up and off to bed, did some spot cleaning, and finally — finally! — I got Mrs. AP into bed.
After the surgery Mrs. AP had, we’re under doctor’s orders for no intercourse until she’s checked out and we’re given the blessing for all systems go. For a couple as active as we are, it’s been agonizing. It’s also led to some incredibly hot “everything but” sessions like we’re a couple of teenagers trying to get every fix we can. It’s been lots of fun and has had the added bonus of forcing us (read: Me) to talk about what we like, what we want, and so forth. We spent every day of my “weekend” off from work either talking, cuddling, or playing in every way we could. In a word, we reconnected, which we both needed. I feel refreshed and comforted, and I think she does as well. Part of the problem we’ve been having in the physical reconnecting, however, is holding to those orders from the doctor.
This “problem” — ’cause really, it’s a relatively small problem as long as intimacy is being maintained, right? — started not long after Mrs. AP gave me one of the most amazing blowjobs in the history of blowjobs. One of the immeasurably wonderful things about Mrs. AP is that she gets turned on by turning me on, so by the time I’ve begun shooting my hot cum down her throat she’s ready for me to turn her over, grab her hair, slap her ass, and fuck her so hard she screams her throat raw. Not being able to do that right now requires getting a little more… creative… in our problem solving skills. Oh, how I wish all problems required such fun ways of finding solutions!
I was on my back on the bed looking up at Mrs. AP as she came into the room. She smiled as her gaze caressed my naked form, the sparkle coming into her eyes with an intensity that’s been missing for over a week. In slow, measured movements she closed the door behind her and peeled her shirt over her head, swaying her hips gently as her delicious breasts emerged from cover. She tossed her shirt to the side and crawled onto the bed, her eyes hungry, her smile dancing dangerously. Her lips met mine with a ferocity that still surprises, amazes, and entices every time. Never have I ever been kissed by anybody who can put so much intensity and emotion into the seemingly simple sensation of pressing together two pairs of lips.
Her hand trailed down my chest, teasing all the sensitive and tickly spots before spiraling lower to brush against my hardening cock. I felt her smile against my lips as her hand wrapped around me and squeezed. My cock became her stress toy, her hand pulsing around me as she tested how hard she could grip me before I cried out in that swirling kaleidoscope of pleasure and pain. She pulled back, grinning a cheshire cat grin, and shifted to her knees before turning and lowering her tantalizing lips to the throbbing head of my rock-hard cock.
My heart will be with you.
Today I travel to Long Island, NY to work on a project for my client. Since my consulting work is still a part-time gig, this means I’m still working my “day job” overnight. The night before I catch the flight. I will have 2 hours to shave, shower, and finish packing before leaving for the airport to catch my flight. Yes, I will be cutting it close. It’s a good thing I know how to work an airport.
While I’m looking forward to being able to do the hands-on IT work I love, this trip isn’t a “there and back again” day trip. No, this time I stay until catching a flight home Friday evening. I’ve handled overnight (and longer) trips for work before. Back during my full time Corporate IT Support days I would often fly to Atlanta for 3 -4 days at a time, or go to NYC for 3 -4 days. Every 2 – 3 months I would fly to the company HQ for 5 days. I spent a week in Denver, a week in Salt Lake City, 3 days in Chicago, 2 days in Indianapolis, 3-4 days in Annapolis at a time, 3-4 days in D.C., and even a week out in San Jose. Traveling with no notice for extended periods of time is nothing new to me. What IS new, however, and what causes my internal conflict, is being away from Mrs. AP overnight.
When I’m away from Mrs. AP for long periods of time – like my 12 hour shifts for work — and need a little pick-me-up, I turn to music. Music has been a large part of our relationship from the start, and neither of us can go very long without it. We’ll blast our favorite groups or playlists while we’re cleaning, cooking, working on various digital projects, etc. There’s one song in particular that always, regardless of where I am or what I’m doing, makes me think of how I feel every time we’re in each other’s arms. May I present:
VNV Nation – Standing
There comes a time when I am weary
Seeking a place whereupon my head may rest
Or comes a time when I an nearly
Like to rip a hole out of my chest
Perhaps libido flares with need to rise
And seeks release where it loves best
There is a place all turn with no surprise
To find warmth and comfort upon my lover’s breast
It was one of those days today where I just didn’t want to wake up but couldn’t help feel inspired to do so anyway. How could I not? Mrs. AP was pressed into my back as my alarm went off, and all I could notice after I silenced that awful buzzing was that her breasts were full, warm, and nestles firmly against me. If that’s not the best wake-up call ever, I don’t know what is.
I rolled over to face her and we snuggled, kissing slowly, talking pillow talk, and reveling in this time that is just ours. Sure, the kids were home. Sure, the cat at the end of the bed voiced his objection to my feet moving. And, like clockwork, the puppy came bounding into the room to greet us as if we’d been gone for a week. It’s times like this I cannot help but laugh and embrace just how much better my life is now than it was 3 years ago. Back then, every day was a chore, waking up was the last thing I wanted to do, and laying in bed to snuggle with my wife was something that no longer happened. Mrs. AP makes my world brighter, and our family colors in the parts that were once drab and gray. I’m a lucky man indeed.
However, being assaulted by a hyperactive puppy that wants to assault faces, burrow under blankets, and generally pounce every bit of us that moves doesn’t allow for much in the way of romance. Really, have you ever tried to engage in a deep, soulful kiss only to have a small puppy nose trying to insert itself between the lips of you and your lover? Such a thing is neither as romantic nor arousing as it sounds. Ever. Ever the genius, Mrs. AP called Princess in and had her remove the dog and close (and lock) our door on the way out of the room. Perfect! Let the loving commence in earnest!
This just in, SINful friends. Mrs. AP and I have good news.
You see, Mrs. AP is not yet divorced from her (then) husband that was part of our Poly Triad. While separated for some time, the funds to initiate the divorce have been unavailable. We have word, though, that He has completed the paperwork on his end and is sending it over for Mrs. AP to review and sign. We find this incredibly wonderful. We find we can plan things more clearly now.
Considering recent events with those we know, stacked atop the time we’ve already had together, Mrs. AP and I are choosing not to wait for much longer than we must while still maintaining our (my?) sense of romanticism. So.
I was lost in a sea of dreamscapes, spinning or twirling or flying or something. Whatever I was doing was freeing and free from the demands of such silly things like gravity or friction. Next to me, above me, behind me, and around me was Mrs. AP, laughing and skirting around me as we danced and spiraled and flirted with free fall. She moved closer with every pass, reaching out to brush and caress me, and soon she was reaching out to tug and stroke at my cock, urging it to respond so she could enjoy me in even more ways.
I woke from this to realize that my dream wasn’t entirely subconscious; Mrs. AP was pressed tight against my back as I slept on my side, and her arm was across me as her hand encouraged my cock to wake up with the rest of me. Still groggy from the haze of a deep and dreamful sleep I pressed back into her harder, giving small encouraging noises. Her hand grew more insistent as I responded to her touch, to her fingers squeezing the head and massaging the shaft, and I shifted to roll onto my back and allow her more access. She cooed slightly, getting a better grip on me as her attention became more firm. I slid my arm up as she nestled into the curve of my torso and our lips met in a gentle, exploratory, soulful kiss. Our lips pushed and pulled, parting as tongues gently explored… and then we got pounced by the puppy.
Nothing ruins a great kiss like a 4 month old hyper puppy diving in to share in the love, let me tell you. Laughing, Mrs. AP scooped her up, escorted her out of our bedroom, closed the door, and locked it behind her. I must have slipped back into the edges of sleep at this point; I remember looking at a naked Mrs. AP — we both sleep in the nude all the time — and smiling. I was informed later that I missed Mrs. AP crawling up my legs and caressing my cock in her cleavage before licking and sucking me for a few minutes. How the hell did I miss that!? What I DO recall, quite clearly, is Mrs. AP sliding her very hot, very wet, very wonderful pussy down my hard cock. I pushed up against her as she settled against me, pressed as tightly together as two humans can be. Then she started rocking, and her hips started rolling, and the rest of the world vanished.
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.
Mrs. AP was feeling particularly playful. She was pouncing me, kissing me, tickling me, holding me, and caressing me in all the right places every chance she got. We were smiling, we were laughing, and sometimes when we brushed against each other in just the right ways we were trembling with pleasure as well. We’d been doing this all day, or at least all evening, and as it slowly progressed the evil, delightful, wonderful twinkle in her eye increased in brilliance. I knew she had something in mind, but as if often the case with the mind of a sadist, I was certain I could never guess. Goodness, was I ever right on that one.
Upon the suggestion that we should lock the door to take our playful exchanges to a more intimate level, Mrs. AP hopped up and danced over to the door, throwing the lock with a deft flick of the wrist that voiced louder than any statement just how focused her intentions were. She turned back to me, grinning, that twinkle in her eye so bright it could drown out stars, and very deliberately sauntered back to the bed. As a question toward her intentions formed on my tongue she grabbed my feet and pulled me to the edge of the bed; the question died on my lips as she lunged forward and merged her lips with mine, her tongue seeking entrance not only into my mouth but into the very recesses of my soul. With no words at all, she declared me to be wholly and unequivocally hers. The kiss broke quickly, just as firmly, and suddenly her hands were pulling my shirt up my chest and over my head. She paused halfway, my vision full of cotton threads as her hand began tracing the contours of my chest, my side, the underside of my arms and back again, meandering with no apparent intent other than to touch me. Fingertips faded to nails and back again, gentle to firm to nearly cutting, and my nerves responded by dancing into higher states. My skin became an instrument, Mrs. AP the musician, and she played me until my nerves danced and spun with more fervor than any bolero could ever inspire. My body betrayed me, breaking control, and I wiggled and writhed under her touch as the sensations reached that point where pain and pleasure began to meld. I craved every touch while shying away, hoping the overwhelming touch would end while wishing it would be ever present. A moan escaped my lips as my back arched, pulling away from her, and in that moment my shirt was flying across the room and she was pushing me back onto the bed, leaving my chest and stomach aflame with the lingering memories of her fingers. I gasped for breath, reaching for something to help me ride the sensations, as she slid my pants down.