The Older Dom - A Softer Touch

He runs his firm long fingered hands from the curve of her hip to the dip in her waist. Up over the soft cotton of her dress to her breasts, he cups them and pinches her gently as she stands and makes earl grey tea and does the dishes.

They had been in bed together for hours, enjoying pleasurable intimacy and much needed sleep.

She had been desperate to taste him and he let her as she knelt on the floor. He had called enough and told her he was going to fuck her and he did in varied positions until he had smeared her insides with tension and swollen warmth. He had laid her across his lap and stretched her holes with his fingers and explored her like a study. She had begged to lick him to his orgasm and he had let her.

He left to smoke a cigarette and she lay on the bed, stroking her cunt and smiling softly, lost in curls of warmth and pleasure. He laughed when he saw her and complimented her on what a pretty sight she was. He drove his fingers inside her with force and she rubbed and cooed until she came painfully and covered them both in a gush of effluence. He fucked her again in her puddle of sedate mess as she rocked breathless beneath him.

When she opened her soft eyes the world was awash, she looked at him and smiled, and looked at the ceiling, glassy and away and alive.

They played more and then they slept and in the morning he took her again, on her knees. They reached their goal simultaneously, in synchronicity, in wet wanting fluidity. They spent the rest of their day drinking the mentioned tea, and curled up together on his sofa.