Saturday evening

I go and sit on his knee. He's at his desk. I ask if we can go upstairs and have a little fun. He says we can. I am excited.

We go to bed. Undress. We kiss each other in that soft and tentative way we do. Ribbons of caged desire strung out between my lips and his. He is smiling, happy, relaxed, he strokes my body, from the curve of my bottom, up over my hip, dip to the waist, almost to the curve of my breast. He stops before the sweetest spot, repeats the process in a monotonous build up of pleasure.

I'm devouring him, heavy breath, please give me release, please give me more. He strokes his fingers over the creamy soft flesh of my chest, over my nipples, lifts his head to take one in his mouth, suck and pull, it's exquisite, a make those little mewling noises, gasps. I can feel the wetness begin to lubricate and over take and coat everything. The foreplay is timeless, he just goes on and on. It scares me when he's nice like this. It excites and gratifies me.

I ask if I can take him in my mouth he says I can. I start to suck him in effortless rhythm. We are in time, in tune, it sounds good, his hand reaches between my legs. I am dripping wet. Easy to arouse. I beg for him. I want to feel him fuck me so badly.

I ask him if it feels good as he slides between my legs.

"Of course".

I climax quickly and then we carry on, bucking, I come again. I'm breathless, as is he. Moisture dripping from our skin. I whisper.

"What can I do? Let me give to you. What do you want. Anything".

I curl into him. He to me. He tells me to enjoy the feeling, catch my breath. Our bodies are wet and happy. Sweat, sex and satisfaction.