Climbing 4

It's a bright, beautiful Saturday morning. As much as I'd love to keep you in bed with me, we've a day planned at the lake. I'm going to row you out to a small island crowned by a huge willow tree, and beneath its spreading branches we will feast, drink wine, talk, canoodle and glory in the miracle that has brought us together.

But that doesn't mean you'll get away scot-free. As you sit up and turn, your bare shoulders becoming exposed as the sheet slides and pools around your lovely ass, I wriggle sideways and slip my left arm around your middle, holding you tightly as I plant a warm, lingering kiss between your shoulder blades. I take my time, tasting your skin and leaving a spot of heat that will be spreading all morning.

Getting up, you open the curtains, leaving the sheers drawn, and turn back to me. You know I love you like that, the light surrounding you, limning you in a golden haze that simply enhances the beauty that is already there.

But enough of this mooning about. I spring from the bed, and hear your cry of surprise and mock anger as I make the bathroom first, booting the door shut just as the pillow you've grabbed and thrown hits it.

You hear me brushing my teeth and decided to lay out our clothes. You realize that when I surprised you in the laundry room last night, backing you up against the machines and starting a sequence of events that culminated in the tousled sheets of this morning, you'd forgotten the load of undies languishing in the dryer.

Nude, you head downstairs, knowing that the nearest neighbor is a good mile distant and that company rarely comes to call this early. You turn the dryer on to fluff the load a bit and put the coffee on while it spins. At the buzz, you open it, deciding that I'll just have to fetch my own damned underwear since I saw fit to edge you out of the bathroom. You take a white thong from the load, knowing that at some point in the day it's likely to end up grass-stained, and head back upstairs.

You stop.

There I am, sitting on the stairs, just as nude as you, smiling. From the state of my cock, you know I'm not thinking about breakfast just yet. I beckon, and extend my legs, ankles together, inviting you to straddle me. You step up, your feet reaching the riser my ass rests on, and start as I reach up to cup your ass, urging you up one more step.

Before you can quite realize what I'm about, I raise up on my elbows and plant a kiss on your pussy, giving just the slightest suck to the lips, just enough to make you sigh. Then, a long lick, from the base of your ass all the way to your clit, ending with a slight flick there.

You reach out to steady yourself, gripping the banister with your left hand and burying your right, still clutching your thong, in my hair. The unexpected pleasure has lit a fuse in your passions, and the hot breath I'm blowing across your neatly trimmed pussy is just making it glow more brightly.

With my left hand, I reach up and gently take the thong from your hand, freeing your fingers to fully entwine in my hair. I look up at you and say, "Show me what you want."

You are reluctant at first to pull my face against you, but I extend my tongue as far as I can, letting it just barely graze your pussy lips, and flick it up and down. Up and down. Up and ... ah, yes, now you get the idea, pulling my head hard against you, feeding your pussy to my hungry mouth.

This is my favorite breakfast, and I plan to make the most of it. Supporting myself with my left elbow, I raise my right hand and run one finger from the top of your ass, down the crack, right to your asshole. Not entering, just pressing and circling. You can hardly decide whether to pull my mouth against you or press back against my hand. I decide for you, pursing my lips to take your clit in its favorite embrace.

You feel me shift, and look over your shoulder to see my left arm extended, wrapping your thong around my monstrously hard cock. Holding myself upright with my abdominal muscles, I start to stroke myself, the feeling of the soft, slick fabric slipping over my head and down my shaft making me groan against your pussy.

Stroking steadily, I worm my right index finger deeply between the cheeks of your ass, pressing directly on your asshole. I draw a figure eight, crossing the center with each curve.

Your hand gripping the banister is beginning to ache, so you let go, supporting yourself only with your hand in my hair, and reach up to play with your nipples, rubbing your palm across them and teasing them with your fingertips.

I am going mad with the sensations ... your pussy in my mouth, your ass warm under my right hand, my left rubbing your thong up and down my cock. Standing on the stairs, you can do naught but hold on tight and wait for the inevitable wave to rise and wash over you.

And there it comes. Using every bit of experience and skill at my disposal, I take your clit between my lips, sucking, swirling and pressing in turns. With one quick stroke, I move my finger from your ass to your pussy, wetting it with your juices and returning it to press at the entrance to your ass, hoping you'll relax a bit before you come.

Feeling that relaxation, I seize the moment and press my finger in just to the first knuckle. That's the boost you needed, throwing your head back as you grind your pussy against my face, driving my mouth onto you with both hands.

The taste, the smell, the feeling of you ... the ecstatic sounds you make ... are quite too much for me. I start to come, sliding the fabric of your thong over my head so I can feel its satiny texture there with every twitch.

Before my last spurt has finished, you are with me, groaning and shuddering. Both hands come up to cup your ass, holding you firmly as I bathe you with my tongue and suck you gently over every peak of your orgasm.

Looking up again, I say, "The bathroom's free, love."