A Quicie

You stand in front with your back to me. Your skirt has ridden up hinting at lace beneath. I reach out and slowly caress your cheeks. Not firm, not saggy just voluptuous and perfect. I tenderly squeeze the mounds with both my hands, you gasp. The throbbing begins, I feel like a teenager but I know I must be patient. The wisdom that comes with age is not wasted on me.

I slowly help you undo your skirt and watch it shimmy down your slender thighs, your tense calves and your perfect ankles, resting on the ground around your red pumps. You lean forward on the desk, parting your legs to steady yourself. I lean closer to you, inhaling the aroma, which takes me to another place. I quickly bring myself back; we don't have the time for digressions for he will be returning soon. My gaze returns to your perfect rear and I notice that the lace is no longer just a hint. Had we more time, I would have teased some more, but the anticipation is too much. In one swift move the panties form the inner circle to your skirt. And now I feast.

A hand to each cheek, I spread them slowly apart. I see your rosebud pulsating, beckoning…nay, commanding me. I lead with my tongue and as the tip touches your spot, you shudder. You lean down a little more; I no longer need two hands. The free hand snakes through to your wet pussy. The tongue now laps the asshole with slow, long, deliberate strokes, while the left hand fumbles to find the source of your wet pussy. I hit gold. I gently slide my finger into your wetness as my tongue starts to focus on your hole. Light flicks, then strong, then light again. You begin to moan.

My right hand starts to itch; it yearns for action as well. As my tongue flicks again, my index finger, moistened with your juices, begins to probe to asshole. You look back at me with a knowing smile. “Shove it in,” you demand, how can I not obey? You begin to writhe to the motion of one finger in the front and another massaging the rear. I cannot bear it anymore. I stand up and unzip with hesitation. My size still bothers me, but your first words to me, echoing in my thoughts, always put me at ease. You said, “It’s the perfect size for my favorite position.” You reach around and grab a hold of my penis, gently guiding it towards your asshole. It is tight; you dip into your own wetness and lather my shaft, preparing it for a smoother entry. It eases right in, the wait has been too much for me, I spurt madly inside you. It doesn’t upset you, for you know better. Where I lack in size, you know I make up in stamina. Clenching and releasing your nether muscles you slowly milk me at first and continue till I am full erect within you. Seconds are definitely better, and thirds even more so you conclude in your thoughts.

I slowly withdraw the four inches and penetrate them right back. Any more withdrawn would be a complete withdrawal. We begin the dance, like a slow tango at first. In, out, in, out. The moans begin on your part, my breathing starts to intensify. I can tell, you are building up to something big today. I notice your hands are quite active within the folds of your cunt. Pinching, rubbing, sliding in, just wet with your moisture. I want to reach down and drink your juices, but I stay the course. I live to give you pleasure. Your hands come out from under you as you cling desperately to the desk, for the pounding has intensified. Your eyes are shut, you are screaming with ecstasy. My eyes are shut, focused on pleasuring you. My being to your being, connected at one spot, total and absolute pleasure for the both of us. The moaning slows, then stops…you are ready. My rhythm changes, the pounding blends into a slow and deep motion. The shuddering begins, first at the outstretched hands, down the spine, all the way to base. You come. I am still hard but you push me away. You’ve reached the point where any more pleasure becomes pain.

We both open our eyes gazing softly at each other, then with alarm at the door. He, your husband, fills the doorframe. I am aghast, I begin to soften. The look in your eyes changes, I realize the alarm was just playacting. He comes forward, kneels down before me and gently begins to taste you on me.

How long has he known of us? How long have you known of my fantasy? When did he come in? Why didn’t he come in sooner? So many questions…but always, pleasure first.