I returned from work to find my fiancée asleep on the sofa, wearing her favorite black halter-style bikini. She must have had the afternoon off from her job, for I did not expect to see her before dinnertime. Clearly, she had been tanning in the meager back yard, for she was just slightly darker in color.
I stood by the sofa for a moment, simply drinking in her beauty, her curves. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders to mid-back, hiding both the strings holding together the halter top of her bikini. Her arms folded underneath her head flexed briefly, twitching in her sleep. Her long legs slid subtly together, and I wondered what she was dreaming about at that very moment.
Quietly, I finally tore my eyes away from my fiancée and went upstairs to the bedroom. After undressing, I took a shower, taking my time in washing away the stress of the day. When I emerged at last and stepped back into the bedroom, I was pleasantly surprised to find my fiancée sprawled across the bed, her large hazel eyes focused upon my nudity, a smile upon her small lips.
Nothing was said as I moved toward the bed, and my fiancée rose up slowly and crawled toward the edge of the bed, her face in the perfect position. She knew exactly what I wanted, what I needed, and it was clear that she wanted and perhaps even needed the very same thing.
She accepted my sex into her mouth, caressing my growing length with her tongue. Her arms hooked around my legs, her hands gently scratching my inner thighs from behind. Her large eyes were closed, her facial expression one of rapture as she slowly worked upon me, slowly enticed me, slowly strengthened my arousal.
My fiancée and I made love often, but there is simply something uniquely fulfilling about enjoying the talents of her mouth. Certainly, I have an abundance of trust in her, or I would never allow her teeth – those dangerous white weapons designed to gnaw through hunks of meat – to be so perilously close to my manhood.
