“What do you want me to wear tonight?” I asked D as we were getting ready to go to a holiday party for work. “How about one of your wrap dresses? I want to know that I’m going to fuck you in it when we get home.” Stockings? Tights? “Definitely stockings.”

In the middle of the night last night I couldn’t sleep, so I gently stroked D awake and he attended to my needs mostly with his hands. I realized that I missed being fingered by him. He’s so good at it. That’s what I wanted tonight more than anything because I know that it almost always leads to me squirting.

He promised me gentle, careful fucking because I tweaked my back. Several days had passed since we’d last fucked, and we missed each other. The plan was for a slow, gentle, sensual fuck that might not even end in orgasms for either of us. We just wanted to be together again.

Late one afternoon on our recent working vacation, after a day of walking the cobblestones and meeting with important work people, I was lying on the bed reading with my feet up. D came into the room and sort of sucked in his breath. “Is that hole supposed to be there?” “What hole?” I asked tentatively.

“The big one in the crotch of your tights?” Damn. The big one in the crotch of the spendy brand new purple tights I had just bought a few days ago. “Save those. We’re going to make use of them.”

I pulled off my sweater and my motions woke him. “I was thinking about getting mostly naked under here with you.” A broad grin stretched across his face, “Yes, please.” I pulled my bra off and his hands were on my tits straight away, pinching and rolling my nipples til they were tight and hard. I pulled away to slip off my pants, giving him a chance to catch up and get naked with me. Suddenly we were entwined and kissing and I was aching with desire for him.

This Sunday morning he rolled over close to me and softly ran his hand over my thighs, belly, hips, and eventually over my tightly closed pussy. I drifted in and out of sleep as he touched me, his fingers occasionally running through my downy bush. In lucid moments I wondered if he wanted to fuck me, but the thought floated away as I drifted back to semi-consciousness.

In traffic I pulled up the hem of my dress to show him that yes, I was wearing panties. Black see-through lacy panties with pink trim. I started to get wet. The lunch proceeded without any groping or innuendo under our breaths. Regardless, I stayed wet and by the time we were ready to leave I could smell my own arousal.

I rolled the switch and pressed the large, rumbly head against my clit and felt the deep, penetrating waves vibrate through my pelvis. That thing feels so fucking good.

“I’m game, but I’m not really into it tonight,” I said.

“Good. So we’ll do it my way.” And with that he grabbed my arm, spun me around and pushed me face first into the bed. He held my arm twisted behind my back so it was just painful enough and began to push my dress up around my hips. His weight pushed my arm hard against my back, driving me into the bed, my head turned at an angle so I wouldn’t smother.

Early morning sex just never gets old. I woke with his hand on my leg, smoothing the thin fabric of my pajama bottoms over my skin. He kept working his way northward until he reached my waist, sneaking his fingers over the edge and skimming my belly until he reached the tie. One slow pull and it was released. He pushed and pushed and pushed my pants down until they were around my ankles, then with a foot shoved them from my legs into the crease of the sheets at the foot of the bed.

It’s no secret that we are fans of middle of the night sex. Sometimes it happens very deep in the night. And sometimes it happens just as one of us is starting to fall asleep. The other night it happened when D woke up very, very horny.

I pulled off my pajamas and crept onto the bed, insinuating myself into his space, trying to get his attention. He feigned disinterest, as though whatever he was typing was more important than an unwrapped New Year’s gift nuzzling against his chest.

It’s after we’ve fucked and we smell like sex. Like each other. Salt and tang and musk and sweat. It’s all over his face and between my thighs. It’s on his chest and around his balls. It’s on our hands and necks and shoulders and hips. We’re covered in each other.

“My clit is so hard from you sucking me. I feel every…” was all I managed to grunt before he came and I felt his cock pulse inside my clenching cunt.

I have fantasies about multiple cocks. Mostly about having multiple cocks inside me at once. All orifices filled. I don’t think about it that often, but when I do I have a full-blown vision, down to the the details of the room where it would happen–the bed cover, the draperies, the carpet on the floor. It’s an exhibitionist’s dream. I haven’t gone there. I don’t know if I ever will. But once, at least, I’ve felt something close to it.

8 a.m. Thanksgiving
He rolls over to me before the alarm goes off. Before we have to get up and get ready for the cooking and the cleaning and the people. Right now it’s just us.

His hand runs over my belly, down to the edge of my pajamas, and his fingers stroke my skin just inside the waistband. I wriggle closer, sliding under the covers. He’s already pulled off his t-shirt and shorts. His hard cock nudges my hip as D pulls the tie open and pushes my pants down.

I fantasize about the sex I want. It’s rougher than what I usually have. It’s me being pushed to the bed or the floor and overpowered. It’s my legs being pushed open and held there, one knee pinned by his and his hip pressing mine into the mattress.

After several minutes of what-ifs followed by a long full body hug, we decided to go and headed out of the hotel. Five minutes later we were standing in a smoky locker room, handing over the admission fee and giving fake names to the hostess. D wasn’t prepared in any way dress-wise for this event, so he ended up just walking around in his boxers. I stripped down to my slut wear and felt incredibly self-conscious. D told me to pretend we were at a Halloween party and that I was just in costume. That helped quite a bit, actually.

Sometimes he pushes me up against the door frame or the wall and makes his intentions known. Or he appears beside me on the sofa and kisses me, his lips soft at first, then hard, then his tongue teases mine and our mouths melt together. We stand and move into each other, and I can feel his thick cock through his jeans. My hand moves over his length through the fabric and I squeeze him as we kiss.

Saturday. Weekends mean ample opportunity for ample fucking all day long. There wasn’t fucking all day long, but what did happen was delightful.

I got a package full of sex toys earlier in the week. My haul was considerable, so I was excited about possibilities. The box of pleasure included one for me, one for him, and something new and slightly intimidating for both. Saturday night’s plan was meant to focus on using the one for him. But it turned out quite differently!