In A Pinch

Peter makes his way up the stairs, the motion sensor light clicks on, illuminating his form: a man in uniform; he comes in through the unlocked side door, and breathes a sigh of relief as he crosses the threshold, closes and locks the door behind him. Past the kitchen-- and continues to the bedroom; having taken off his shoes at the door and then the upper layers of his clothing along the way. He finishes undressing and arranges his clothing on a suit rack.

Ava knows that Peter is waiting for her in their bedroom, she heard him come in and clear his throat, the door to the connected bathroom is shut tightly: her moments of privacy and preparation. It doesn't begin until she opens that door. "Waiting patiently on the bed or grabbing me as soon as he sees me?" she wonders. The tip of the lipstick smeared onto the fullness of her lips-- she had almost forgotten to put it on after her lip balm-- and her new set of maroon lace underwear put in place on her body: upward pull on the strap, a tug on the waist; looking over the pinprick conglomeration of floral design: concealing and revealing all at once, depending on how intently someone was looking for some show-through.

Peter notices the knob turning; a tentative Ava steps into the space. She makes an involuntary shriek as he grabs onto her elbow with both hands, pulls her, spins and thrusts her onto the bed. "Bang"--the door against the wall. Her body ends up lying sideways on the soft duvet cover-- she observes the long lines of his naked body, her eyes honing in on the slight bounce of his cock and curves of his ass, as he moves to the side of the bed and tugs her underarms to pull her the rest of the way to wedge her head after dipping over the edge of the mattress. The wait is over; the tip of his cock placed between her lips, the downward angle naturally made her mouth go agape-- easy opening--cock simply sliding into her gently, until securing his stuffed entry. The thrusts become more thorough: spit covering his cock and forming around her mouth, dripping down her chin. Ava resists the urge to press her hands against his thighs-- her throat gurgles around his cock and taut sensations burst throughout her body, instead she twists one of her nipples combined with rubbing her clit-- shifting her panties to benefit from the grit of the lingerie.

Peter releases Ava from the downward angle and helps her to turn around; she gets up to move a few feet away from the bed as he props himself up comfortably for the show; stroking his conveniently lubricated cock as he watches her. His gaze, her way; where his gaze lands is where she touches herself; the gaze lingers, she pinches the stretch of skin nearest to the tips of her fingers, he closes his eyes--indicating that she should grasp and twist, until her unsteady moan makes his eyes flit open again. They continue like this until her body is marked with sensations. Her hips flow in to the wriggle of a striptease, now choosing to keep her eyes closed, opening them with the sound of the springs of the mattress giving way. Peter is in front of her with hands on bra cups pulling down, a moist profusion of spit covers her tits; wrenching the fabric covering her pussy--"Wet, Wet... and more wet," he says between licks.

"Get back on the bed, let me take care of how and where," he grunts out before she has a chance to ask how he wants her. Peter moves her pliant body around on the bed. Bending her nearly in half and positions himself above her, the press of him--muscles, and skin, and hair-- against her thighs. The push of exciting overwhelm, her desiring-to- be-grasped nipples strengthen in form and rushes of wetness delivered for inside and out, she grasps at his shoulder, his cock nudging and insinuating itself inside her, and the inimitable sensation of being entered with his cock, her head moving from side to side as she tries to assimilate all of it until she is mindlessly massaging his shoulder in time with the rhythm of his plunges-- half-askew underwear, friction. Always in awe of the deep receptiveness of her body to his fast pace.

Peter follows the expressions unraveling all over Ava's face; he pushes his body deeper on his downward thrust. Mindless doesn't even begin to describe Ava's state, as if the feeling of her eyes glazing over could cover her whole body: a cunning combination of numbness and arousal. He feels the kneading pressure in his lower back, hears Ava's encouraging words-- cum splatters inside of her.

Peter gently lowers Ava's thighs from the upright angle, pressing down and opening her up to an outspread position, and then lays down beside her. Ava's hand travels down the center of her body with languid precision, she puts her other hand near his mouth and watches as her mass of fingers moves in dry and out with his spit while grasping around her clit-- and rub, rub, rub at the center, until her lower back and ass lift and fall back down again as exhaustion spreads out her body. Peter pulls out her hand; lingering kisses on her palm and quick kisses around to her knuckles; she moves her limp face and hand to the side, on her way to falling asleep.

Peter emerges from the bathroom--dressed and ready. Resisting the temptation to pull away the covers to reveal her still naked body, for an image to take with him before leaving the bedroom-- not wanting to wake her from her restful nap before she has to use the bathroom herself. Gathering a few items in the kitchen to prepare a quick meal; eats at the window and cleans up. Time to go: he pulls his keys from his pant pocket, and locks the door behind him. Shielding his eyes from the sun, as he goes down the staircase leading to his car, puts on the sunglasses he keeps in his glove compartment and starts on the drive to make it to the parking garage with enough advance time for his scheduled departure.