Comfy

Ahhh, finally taking that bra off felt amazing. After a long day at work, a yoga session was just what I needed. My friend and I never failed to enjoy the intense stretches, breathing and meditation. It was just a short drive back home, and the prospect of a shower and delicious dinner made me sing in the car. A beautiful sunset was in full force as I pulled into the driveway of our beautiful townhouse in Stones Corner. The smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the blooming frangipani tree greeted me -- welcome home!

My bag felt heavier than it actually was as I dropped it next to my desk. You were still out and about running errands and exercising a little after a long day of writing. Your agent was putting the pressure on since the release date for the next instalment of the series was scheduled to be released in 6 months. Editors calling in, Zoom meetings and graphic designers sending in their final drafts for the cover -- my favourite writer was damn busy.

Minerva greeted me in the kitchen, all fluffs and excitement. Emma lay on her throne like the queen she was, unable to care less for the needy kitten. I knew very well that you fed the both of them before you left, but alas, Mini was giving it her best shot. Fresh water was all she was going to get before I strolled over to give Emma gentle head scratches, which she rewarded with a satisfied burrrr.

Bra, pants and top gone, a shower revived me. I slipped into only a light sundress and sat down to do a spot more planning. I airdropped the last document to my Ipad with Mini on my lap before I decided a cup of tea on the couch as in order.

Cup in hand, the soft fabric of my dress caressing my skin, I entered the living room, just to find a pile of paper on the coffee table. Attached to it was a sticky note in your characteristic nonchalant handwriting:

"Hey baby, I know you love the feeling of actual paper, so I made the effort of printing out this short story exercise I did this morning. Can't wait to hear what you think! I lucking fove you -- J."

What a treat! I remembered when you picked up short story writing a few years before finding your first agent, and how you despised it for a while. "A feline Story", a working title the publisher somehow insisted on becoming the actual name, was the first short published and immediate success. What followed was a blur of one book after another, stress and bliss, a wild mix We managed it with the help of friends, family, feline companions, patience and love.

With a quiet flop, I sank into the cushions, already lost in the intro. I lit a candle and only peripherally noticed the cats having a play. I must have been sitting like that for an hour or so, the night crawling in and giving me a few shivers. Finally, I heard the door and a grunt, as you got back home, so glad to take off your shoes. As per your instructions, I'd left the pork simmering in the slow cooker alone, but the delicious smell was undeniable.

Your tall figure appeared in the doorway, instigating our cats to interrupt their snooze to come and greet you. With a wide smile, I watched you catch up with Emma first, giving her a big cuddle, before picking up fluffy Mini while still holding the fresh bread you picked up for dinner.

After dropping the ciabatta off on the kitchen counter you made your way over to the couch and dropped down to my right with a sigh of relief. Resting your head against my shoulder, you let out another big exhale. "Hello babyyyyy....how was your day?" I kissed your forehead with a smile. "This short story made a good day even better. Excellent work my love!" Your right hand reached over to cup my face and you drew me in for a kiss. Our modus operandi had changed over the last years -- read it all first before giving much feedback, but sometimes I couldn't resist.

"I think you hit the nail on the head with this one. Can't wait to finish it, the main character certainly needs a bit more... " I stopped my analysis to catch my breath as your hand was caressing my collar bone. "...I mean, it's certainly a gothic approach to..." your hand travelled to my right breast, caressing a very responsive nipple through the thin fabric of my dress. "...Hmmm, I really want to see more emphasis on the mirror images of haaaaa....." you started to nibble on my earlobe.

At this point I was already on my way out, but you wouldn't let me off the hook that easily. "Go on baby, I depend on your literary expertise!" I could feel your mouth curl into a smirk against my neck, hand now working on my left breast.

"Haaa ahm, okay, so the first paragraph has a few very complex sentenceeeessss..." your hand had reached my thigh, shuffling up my skirt oh so slowly. That low chuckle, devilish and sexy, almost a growl, made me lose track almost completely.

"Hmm, yeah, me and my LONG sentences. " Your hand travelled up my now exposed leg, while I put down the manuscript and grabbed your thigh -- seemingly to steady myself, but really to touch you and draw you closer.

"You were just talking about that first paragraph honey, please continue!" You cheeky bastard. When your fingers caressed my clit and dipped into wet warmth, I drew a deep breath. Thank goodness you had taught me the irrelevance of underwear years ago. Your left arm was firmly wrapped behind and around my waist while you never stopped kissing my neck and nibbling at my collar bone. "Erm, yeah, ahhh, that needs a bit more work....Oh God yes, please don't stoooop..."

Slow, lazy circles. One finger, two, plunging into me, in and up, delicious pressure and speed. My world started to blur in and out of focus as you lifted your head to look at me.

"Thank you baby, I could never do this without your support and..." your left hand grabbed my waist tighter as I buckled against your swift and determined fingers, hungry for that building up orgasm "...haha, sooo hungry, are you? I'll let you cum if you ask for it very politely."

A deep breath later I gathered my thoughts enough to respond. "Please baby, can I please cum all over your...fingers...please...".

Two digits curling up inside of me, applying pressure in just the right spots was all I needed. "Cum for me baby, that's my good girl!" You muffled my cries of pleasure with your mouth as my orgasm washed over me, wet and pulsing, intense and quivering. You didn't seem to mind my nails digging into your thigh.

Generous as always, you allowed me to ride out my climax, hand caressing my pulsing and blush clit. Fuck me dead, I wanted more. Our passionate kiss grew more gentle, sweet and softer, dancing tongues and swollen lips.

Before you grabbed my neck, you allowed me to taste myself on your fingers. With an animalistic passion, I thoroughly licked your fingers clean one by one, my eyes never leaving yours. It only took me a few second to command my shaking legs to carry me and shift my position. With a slight grunt of protest, you allowed me to take over control.

Settling in comfortably between your legs, I stroked your cock through the thin fabric of your shorts. Finally able to lean back, a moan vibrated through your torso as I kissed your stomach.

"Haha, careful baby, naaagh that tickles!" My turn to smirk. With an elegant tuck, I freed you of the restricting pants and revealed what I had been hoping for. A drop of precum glistened on the tip, and I licked it off ever so gently. Left hand cradling your balls, my right hand guided that delicious cock while I let it slide deeply down my throat. Growling with pleasure your hands grabbed my hair, gathering it and pushing me down, further penetrating into the tightness, fucking my mouth just the way I liked it.

And how I put my neck into it -- runny nose, watering eyes, quivering legs still processing the throbbing between my legs -- vocal chords vibrating in a low hum. Experience, practice and passion would have enabled me to make you cum right then and there, and I would have done it. And yet, something in you must have snapped when I let my tongue trace your full length a second later.

Grabbing my shoulders, you roughly pulled me up and on top of you. Without hesitation or pause, your mouth crashed down onto mine -- almost at the same time as you pushed me down onto your lap. With a gasp, I felt every muscle stretch and cry out in pleasure as you buried your weeping cock deep inside my dripping wet centre.

The world was gone as a familiar, passionate mixture of rough and sweet took over us. Skin slapping against skin, hips moving in a perfect choreography, your hands in my hair, your mouth on my neck, then my nipples, kissing me, biting my lip, huffing and moaning, growling and weeping...It made me lose track of time and space, any sense of decency or discretion, crying out in pleasure and swimming through a current of one orgasm to the next.

I knew that you were close when you stopped kissing me and rested your forehead against mine, brows furrowed and lips slightly parted, thrusts slowing down just enough to continue a passionate rhythm. Your busy right hand, a moment ago still holding my face -- or massaging my tits, grabbing my ass, or pressing me against your broad, muscular frame -- found their way between us, reaching for the trigger. Satisfied with my reaction to his renewed torture on my clit, your eyes found mine, dark and devilish and breathtaking.

"I want you to cum with me, you have 20 seconds. Go!"

You never had to tell me twice. Especially not when your left hand was grabbing my throat like that.

Moving my hips at a steady, rhythmic pace, I felt you get even harder as you fucked me so deeply I swore my cervix would be bruised after this. Your skillful fingers against my clit were the icing on the cake. "Tell me when, baby, I want you to say it, loud and clear!" That firm demand was the trigger I needed. Crushing down on your lips, I proclaimed how close I was, so close, oh god, almost there...

With a final deep, forceful thrust, we managed to climax mere second apart. Erratic, quivering buckles, up and deep, slippery and wet, hands on my hips holding me down and steady, soft lips on my neck, shaking thighs.

It took us several minutes to catch our breath again, hearts racing, mouths dry and sweat dripping. A sweet kiss, shivering cuddles and exhausted chuckles.

Water. Food. A therapy plan for our cats. As we lay on the couch, spooning and recovering, we made a list of things we'd take care of once we got back up. Just one more minute...