Four A M

I can see the digital clock's blue numbers on the bed stand and it's four a.m. I'm awake but he's still sleeping. I am content, I've snuggled up with my head on his shoulder and my naked leg thrown over his.

I love these moments. I can smell his musky aroma, still pungent from our coupling. In my position, I can kiss his chest and taste the salty flavor of his skin and my hand is free to explore. I love the feel of his hairy chest and arms, so different from my own. I can hear his breathing. It's not quite a snore but a deep rumble in his chest. I know it's the tiger within him, a savage beast that a few hours ago left me teary-eyed and limp from his wonderful assault on my body.

I can still feel the echo of our lovemaking between my legs. I'm sore, but it's a good sore that should he desire, I would be all too pleased to feel him there again.

When I run my hand down his stomach I can feel the washboard hardness of his abs and the sinewy feel of his muscles. He's in great condition for his age and I'm a little embarrassed by the little pooch that I've begun to develop. He tells me that it's cute and my body is perfect, but I'm insecure.

A little lower and I sense his wiry pubic hair and I know that should I continue I will find his shaft. I can't see from my position, but I can't help but imagine its condition. Will it be the soft limp appendage that slipped from between my pussy's embrace a few hours ago, or will the warmth of our bodies pressed together have restored the firmness that he usually exhibits? I long to know, but...

Should I?

We have told each other that our bodies are totally available to each other to explore as we desire and now, at four a.m. I want to touch and feel him so my hand slips lower.

I know his measurements are a relaxed four inches and aroused a hard throbbing six and a half. I love the look of his circumcised cock and when I find it with my small hand my imagination goes crazy as I lift it off his leg and weigh it in my palm. It's soft and limp and I can easily bend it back on itself, a condition that would have been impossible earlier this evening.

I'm fascinated by his penis. As a female, it's hard for me to comprehend how the shaft and testicles must feel swinging between his legs. I know that my nipples and clit can become aroused and more erect by desire, but they are so inconsequential when compared to a man's hardening. When I hold him, I can feel the blood surging through the muscles and his erection can expand to the point that my fingers no longer can span the circumference.

I'm enjoying the feeling of holding his softness in my hand. There's nothing yet to stroke so I manipulate it with a gathering motion. I'm pushing forward with my thumb on the top of his cock while my fingers are pulling backward. I sense a latent hardness deep in his shaft, and as I continue it seems to become more prominent.

Even when he's solidly erect the tip of his penis is always spongy soft and I remember being surprised by this when Mr. Penis and I were first introduced. In his softened state, I'm even more aware of the head of his cock and the beautiful little slit at the end, since the shaft has yet to appear.

I just heard him moan a small "Mmmmm," but he wasn't awake. I wonder if he's lost in a dream and I flatter myself that it's about me. I haven't mentioned his balls. In his softened state, they hang loosely in his hairy scrotum, and I can easily roll them between my fingers. The heat emanating from his groin is carrying the unique aroma of him and I flare my nostrils to capture the arousing essence.

With my head resting on his chest, I first notice a change in his breathing before I feel blood starting to fill his penis. I can relate to this. I feel the same increase in my respiration just before I become aware of a jump in the sensitivity of my clit. I think of this as the body teasing you with the promise of ecstasy, but it's not yet a given. It can slip away like a thief in the night.

I tried an experiment. I released his penis and slid my hand back up his torso to weave my fingers through his chest hair. I'm rewarded when I sense him roll his hips seeking to reestablish the pleasurable contact of a moment ago. I lick his skin and find the salty taste most pleasurable. I bend my head to kiss the spot that my tongue wet and my hand returns to his groin to find that he has indeed continued to firm. I can now clearly discern the head from the shaft, but he's still far from being fully erect.

I'm already desiring to slide down and replace my hand with my mouth. Until I met him, my oral desires were, how should I say, only lukewarm? It just hadn't come together for me yet, but since he's been in my life, he taught me that cock-sucking for the giver is a multi-sensory experience. All of my previous lovers had just pushed their penis in my mouth and then proceeded to treat it like my cunt. A lot of savage in and out with a messy load deposited without much warning. He showed me a different way.

I remember the conversation. He asked me what my lovers tasted like. I didn't know, save for the taste of their cum. He stood before me, his phallus hanging in front of my face, and asked me to smell him. I did and found that the aroma of his masculinity wasn't just one thing, but a subtle combination that waifed into my nose. It was strongest in the crotch between his balls and his leg. Those pheromones triggered something in my female self that was new and exciting. Under his scrotum they were different and it seemed they were carried by the heat that I could feel on my face.

He had been only slightly erect when he told me to open my mouth and I watched as he stepped forward and gently placed his penis on my tongue and told me to close my eyes at the same time that I closed my mouth around his cock. I admit that my eyes flew back open as I became aware of the taste of him. It was amazing. He tasted musky with a hint of saltiness, two sensations that I had completely missed in my previous encounters. I guess I wanted to show him that I knew what I was doing so I started to push forward in a stroking motion but he stopped me and told me to just use my tongue and my cheeks. When I followed his directions I became aware that I was not only enjoying the feeling of him filling my mouth, but I was finding it most satisfying. I almost felt like a baby nursing and realized that nature had implanted certain satisifiers in our brains and he had triggered one of mine. I was suddenly aware that I was sucking him as much for me as it was for him. What a concept!

But for now, my head still rests on his chest and my oral fantasy remains just that. A fantasy. So I bring my attention back to the here and now and him in my hand. I can still use the grabbing motion I mentioned earlier but with him now firmer I prefer to just hold and squeeze down on his shaft.

I seem to have awakened the beast as he just asked me what I was doing. I can't see his face, my gaze is frozen on his cock which continues to grow in my hand. It's a silly question, plainly I'm playing with his penis, but I suspect that he's really asking about my intentions if I fondle him to a hard erection.

Interesting. What do I want to happen? The options are almost limitless. At one extreme I can just continue to fondle him for my own pleasure, bringing him to the edge before backing off, not allowing him his release. I regard this as the sadistic treatment it is and I do not wish to reward his skillful and most satisfying lovemaking earlier in the evening in this way.

Oh, I can remove my hand and just snuggle back against his maleness as if nothing happened. Perhaps, he will be satisfied that I admire and worship his body and we can both return to the wonderful never-never land of our post-cotis bliss and my interruption just a pleasurable interlude or...

I can finish what I started and manipulate his release, but how? Do I want to just continue to use my hand or slide down and let him finish in my mouth or would he want to mount me a second time this night and deposit his cum deep inside my vagina where it would join his earlier offering?

It's four o'clock in the morning for Christ's sake. I don't make these decisions ahead of time. I will just go with what feels good and let desire fill in the blanks. I snuggle more against his body and let him fill my hand with his wonderful manhood. I feel his hands on my head and he caresses my hair as I squeeze and play with his masculine virility. When I resumed stroking him with the same gathering motion I'd used earlier I felt him both gasp and stiffen in my grip. He moaned and asked where I learned that move. I didn't answer only because I had no idea. It just seemed like the thing to do.

As his cock hardened I felt myself draw closer to the source of our mutual pleasure. Yes! It was indeed mutual. It would lead to only his release, but I was feeling a deep satisfaction as well. Some of it was the sense of the bond I felt with him, but I was not unaware of the raw sexuality that we were acting out either. He had attained a full erection and my hand felt lubricated by his sweat. I knew that he could last much longer so I scooted even closer, my lips now mere inches from his spongy tip.

His hips began to twitch and his breathing turned husky and I could feel his hand gently press my head forward in a way that communicated his desire rather than his demand. I knew that at the moment of truth, it would be my choice but we were approaching that moment quickly.

When it came, my female self just reacted without conscious thought. My hand felt the swell in the muscle of his cock which signaled his release was immediate, and I just pursed my lips around the head and awaited his cum.

The first pulse coated my tongue and quickly swirled around. I closed my eyes and just let him pulse into my mouth. The taste of his salty sweetness was welcome and familiar. I have swallowed his cum so many times that I think I have become a connoisseur of his manly essence. Yes, it reminds me of oysters and I have developed a real affection for the taste and gelatinous texture of it. But this time, I sense a difference. His cum is thin and more liquid than normal and I pull my lips away before he's finished. I watch the last two pulsations which seep rather than shoot from his hole and I can see that it's milky but clear and I realize that it's mostly just his seminal fluid. The pearly mass that he normally ejaculates is still in my womb, placed there a few hours ago. It's not a main course, but I enjoy it nevertheless. The scent of his cock fills my nose, the heady scent of his sex, a mixture of piss, cum, sweat, and the juice of my saliva.

Tenderly I move all over him with a slow sensual dance of lips and tongue that glide downwards, cleaning and tasting, taking him deeper and deeper, as I can. Slowly his breathing returns to normal

and I can feel his body relax underneath me as he luxuriates in the cleansing touch of my loving mouth. I can feel it in his breathing. Finally, my oral caresses slow to a stop and I just lay and hold him within the warmth of me until eventually I feel his hands on my hair and he pulls me back up his body and lays my head down on his chest.

I love that moment afterwards

as he lays back on the bed,

his cock loses its majesty and a deep contented sigh escapes from his lungs. For now, our lust is sated

but the taste of him is on my lips and in my mouth and the odor of his climax still lingers around me. The taste and smell are reminders,

not only of what just happened

but also hints at promises of what might come.

I can't help but lick my lips in anticipation.