Our son decided to spend Saturday night at the home of a friend of his from school. This was perfect. This meant that Frank and I could awaken, naked, in each other’s arms on Sunday morning, mother’s day.
Frank bought me the new Celine Dion CD, which he knew I had really wanted. We put it on the stereo in our bedroom. The first song, Celine sang about how she was feverish for her man, she drove all night to get to him, she crept into his room, and awakened him by making love to him. Was it all right with him that she did this?
Frank laughed. “What man would say no, this isn’t all right, to be awakened by his woman making love with him?”
I smiled, and leaned over Frank. I wrapped my hand around his cock, and guided it to my mouth. “So, it would be OK with you, if I awakened you like this?” I asked, smiling, as I sucked him into my mouth.
He rolled me over onto my back, set his head down between my thighs, and began to lick slowly. “I’d rather awaken YOU,” he grinned. “Like THIS!” With that, his tongue slid into my juicy slit, the tip gently tickling my G-spot. I went ballistic, rubbing my hand through his hair and thrusting myself upward to meet his exploring tongue.
I wrapped my hand around his already thick, hard, throbbing cock, and he slid up the bed. I guided him into me, and we slowly made love with each other, for about 30 minutes. Then he sped it up, and after another fifteen minutes of slamming hard and fast against each other, we both came. I fell asleep again, in his arms, thankful for such a wonderful start to this mother’s day, as his cock gently pulsed and throbbed inside of me.
I was sleeping so soundly, so contentedly, that I didn’t even feel him slip out of me, get up, and go to the kitchen. I awakened to the unmistakable smell of my favorite breakfast cooking: chocolate chip pancakes! Frank was in the kitchen, wearing only a black leather G-string. But that was OK, I was wearing only his shirt, with all of the buttons undone. He topped the pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream, just how I like them. I sat in his lap at the kitchen table, and we fed each other forkfuls of pancake, between soft, loving kisses. He rubbed a strawberry over my breasts through my open shirt, and kissed the strawberry juice off of me. I then rubbed whipped cream on his cock, then bent down to lick it off. This was already shaping up to be the perfect Mother’s Day.
That’s when I heard the washing machine running. “I’m doing the laundry today, honey,” he smiled. “This is your day. You don’t have to do anything all day but be adored.” No wonder I fell in love with and married this man!