Hmmm. Awake again. I remembered getting up a couple of hours ago to pee. Now I'd been awake for a few minutes. Saturday morning. Around 8:00 or so. My sweet one still slept in my arms. I couldn't help but bend my head down to plant kisses on the top of his. He didn't stir. He was so tired. I wanted him to sleep as long as possible. If careful, I could probably get out of bed and get some things done before Kiefer woke up.
As I contemplated how to disentangle myself, the bundle of contradictions in my arms began to stir. Contradictions? The hopeless romantic gone modern. The conservative radical. The monogamous slut. The shy extrovert. The scatterbrained perfectionist. The contradictions were part of why I loved him so much. Not that he'd heard me say that I loved him before. But I did. I loved him enough to let him be. Yeah. John Lennon and Paul McCartney had it right. Let it be. I'd enjoyed Kiefer's company for this long, a decade, because I'd let it be. Oh, I could have lost him long ago had I been unable to let it be. But I'd figured out that if I wanted to have him in my life at all, it would be at the cost of letting things be.
"Mornin,'" came the soft growl.
"Good morning,' pumpkin. Did you sleep well?"
"Uh huh. You?"
"Absolutely. I was about to sneak out of bed and let you sleep."
"Uh uh. You goin' nowhere now. You busted," Kiefer said as he disentangled himself and looked up at me.
"Oh, my. Please don't bust me, officer," I squealed. I looked down at him and batted my eyes defensively.
"Battin' the eyes won't help you now. Too late--"
Kiefer took my left hand and moved it down to his fully erect penis.
"Ummmmm," I purred. "Got that mornin' Mr. Stiffy thing goin' on, eh? Well, good morning, Mr. Stiffy. How you? Ready to come out and play?" I took his cock in my hand and gently stroked it.
"He ain't playin' this morning.' He's serious."
I moved down in the bed and faced Kiefer. He was already facing me. I placed my left arm around his waist and pulled him closer to me while I wrapped my left leg around his thighs. Kiefer's right hand came up to my face and pulled me to him. He lightly bit my lower lip. Then he pulled away and looked at me.
"Miss me?" he inquired.
"Nah. Not a bit," I lied.
My actions belied my words. I began to kiss Kiefer's face. Then I moved down to his luscious chest. He always mildly protested when I worked my way to his nipples and began to nibble them. He didn't think it was quite right for him to enjoy this attention so much. I'd always told him it was silly for him not to enjoy what felt good. He didn't always believe me though. The boy had hang-ups. Fewer now than when we'd first met, but he still had several. Those were old stories though. Stories that had stayed with me and me alone and had probably helped buy me the decade I'd enjoyed.
I moved my head from Kiefer's nipples to trail my tongue down the middle of his stomach. I lingered around his navel, delving my tongue into it and circling round and round. After a moment, I moved my tongue down to Kiefer's pubic area. He stirred, but made no audible sound. One of his hang-ups. No sound. Well, sometimes a soft, soft sound, but mostly nothing. Maddening, really. But it was one of the leftovers from his childhood. Uck. Long story. Fortunately, I'd learned to read other signs. Over the years I'd been able to decipher breathing patterns and body movements to read him as well as if I'd been hearing him scream. On rare occasions I was able to elicit a healthy moan, but it was only after all of the planets in the freakin' universe aligned and I'd placed flowers on the altar of Venus.
I took Kiefer's cock into my right hand and moved my left hand to his scrotum. I held his cock up toward his belly and began to lick him between the base of his penis and his balls. I soon shifted my body around and up onto my knees so I could more easily reach Kiefer's testicles. I took first the left one, then the right, then both of them into my mouth to suckle them lightly. He never said anything, but I knew he loved this. His buttocks always tightened and his body lifted upward when I sucked him this way. He pushed himself down in the bed, trying to get his balls farther into my mouth. I began to slowly move my right hand up and down his penis.
I reluctantly relinquished Kiefer's balls and looked up at him. His eyes were closed. I'd hoped they were open. I moved my head up to his penis and began to lick the tip. I drew circles around it with my tongue. His breathing became more labored and his chest began to move in and out visibly. When I began to move all the way down on Kiefer's penis, he did make a soft noise that I soon discovered was a whispered 'no.' His hands moved down to the sides of my head and he gently pulled me up to him. The left half of my body draped over his, then he placed his right hand on my left shoulder and rolled me over onto my back. He didn't want head. He wanted to fuck.
The fingers of Kiefer's right hand began to trace circles around my left nipple. His lips went to the right one. Long ago I'd taught my man to suck hungrily like an impatient infant boy. He hadn't forgotten the lesson. He'd managed to even out the finger pressure with the sucking pressure of his lips and it drove me crazy. I am not the silent type. Kiefer always knew audibly when he'd hit the right combination, and these moans served to make him even hotter. His right leg went over my legs and he shoved his body closer to mine, thrusting harder and harder. I could feel his stiff cock poking in my side.
I wrapped my arms around Kiefer's neck and pulled him on top of me. He began kissing me hard on the lips. That was unusual. His kisses were usually soft, sensual, and sometimes playful. I returned the pressure on his lips, but remained curious. Kiefer's body was supported by his right forearm as the fingers of his left hand ran through my hair. Suddenly the body weight shifted, the fingers disentangled themselves from my hair, and the left forearm took over the support position. Kiefer's right arm found the pillow on the other side of the bed and he went up on his knees. His left arm lifted my buttocks and the pillow went under me to raise my pelvis. This meant some serious fuckin' was about to occur. Bring it on, love.
While still on his knees, Kiefer placed his right hand on my left inner thigh, trailing his fingers upward to my wet opening. He stopped, looked at me, then grinned. Ah, now here was my Kiefer. Playing games as he was wont to do. I knew what he wanted. I made a pouting face and said 'no' very petulantly.
"Do you want Mr. Stiffy to go in his hobbit hole?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Well, you'd better do what he wants then, or he'll not play with you anymore."
Bullshit, I thought. He'd play. But what Mr. Stiffy, uh, Kiefer, wanted was o.k. with me. Besides, it always made him crazy. I slowly, very slowly, trailed my right index finger down from my neck, stopping to circle each nipple, then my navel, then stopping altogether where my pubic hair began. Kiefer's eyes were big. He waited expectantly. I made him wait a few seconds longer. Finally, I moved my finger into my wet pussy and made an exaggerated point of getting it, my finger, very juicy. I then extracted my finger with great care, so as not to lose any of the precious fluid, then I leisurely moved my index finger up to my mouth. With deliberate wickedness, I hesitated to place it inside my mouth, savoring what the taste would be, making expectant moaning sounds.
Kiefer's face begged me to taste my juice. I wasn't going to make it easy. I felt bad about it sometimes, but if I wasn't going to get loud moaning during sex, at least I could work for hearing that voice.
"Would Mr. Stiffy like me to lick my finger?"
