On the plane we held hands while napping and I felt safe and warm. We arrived well after sunset but the darkness couldn't mask the gorgeousness of the boutique hotel we had chosen. The sprawling Spanish-style buildings seemed warm and inviting and I was happy that this was our love nest for the next five days. I felt grateful that we had searched for an authentic, unique accommodations and couldn't wait to see what it would look like when the sun arose.
Upon checking in, we were gifted with a complimentary bottle of champagne. This was shaping up to be an excellent vacation, I thought to myself.
Even after the long plane ride, we still had a little bit of energy. I sat on the edge of the bed in my nightgown and waited for him to come out of the bathroom. Wordlessly, he stood between my parted legs and cupped my face in his hands.
"Thank you for taking me here," I murmured softly. He responded by kissing my forehead, and then my lips, deeply. During the parts of the flight I was awake for this is all I had been thinking about. Everything about him turned me on.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders while he was still standing there. His hands made their way to the back of my head to tightly grip a fistful of hair, just how I like it. We parted our mouths slightly as he lowered his hand to my neck, pulling me into him. My legs wrapped themselves around his waist and he pushed me onto my back so I lay flat. He moved south slowly, gently kissing behind my ear, the side of my neck, and down my sternum to his favorite set of twins.
I felt something stir inside of me and knew I was already wet after our few minutes of making out. He liked waiting for things and letting tension build; I liked instant gratification. It made for a fun dynamic in the bedroom where he'd teach me to wait for my pleasure.
He slipped the straps of my nightgown over my shoulders, past my upper arms, then elbows, until the fabric bunched around my waist. He bent over my exposed chest and kissed my left breast ultra gently, his lips barely touching my nipple.
He used his left hand to address my right breast. Even using his whole hand to cup it, some of it still spilled out of his grasp as he moved his thumb back and forth across my nipple as he continued kissing its counterpart. I closed my eyes and gripped my legs around him tighter, locking him into position. He kissed all over my left tit, nipping at me softly just to tease me, until he took as much of it as he could into his mouth and began sucking. His right hand, went from rolling my nipple between in small circles to grasping the rest of my left as he devoured it.
I looked at him and wondered how I'd gotten so lucky. It was like he knew exactly what I wanted him to do and how to do it.
He sucked and sucked on my left tit, squeezing and pulling on it just the way I liked. I yearned internally for a sensation I've never experienced. I don't want children, nor do I want to nurse them, but in that moment I so desperately wished I could squirt into his mouth to reward him for all the wonderful work he had done. Alas, all I could do was squirm under him and moan as he worked his way further south.
I grabbed his neck and moved it back to mine to kiss me more while I uncrossed my legs and grabbed the front of his well-fitted jeans (though their tightness certainly wasn't why the lump was so large). He ripped my slip the rest of the way off and undressed faster than I could say, "Fuck me!" Still standing over me, he lifted my legs and knees and positioned them to a 90 degree angle. Facing me, he grasped my thighs firmly right under the angle they had formed while I spread myself open for him. I flexed my pelvic floor and could feel drops of my wetness escaping, a beacon calling attention to its entrance. He slipped in me easily, but took slow, slow strokes to warm us both up.
I didn't want slow. I had been ready to fuck since the second we walked off the plane. After just 30 seconds of his steady rhythm I moaned, "faster, faster, faster" and lifted my legs straight up in the air. He wrapped his arms around them, pulling them to his chest and gave in to my demands as I rested my ankles on his shoulders. I shoved one of the many decorative throw pillows under my lower back to aid his entry and he gave me what I wanted, stroke after stroke after stroke.
