David could be such a childish ass and give her a headache sometimes when he didn't want to hear what she was telling him and just kept yattering obscenities back at her in the heat of an argument. Or when he let Cynthia push his buttons until father and child were just screaming at each other because neither was getting their own way.
But right now his tongue was starting to drive her gloriously insane with pleasure as it slowly, gently made its way up one side and down the other of her spread, wet pussy lips and then danced all over her swollen clitoris. He was breathing fast too, and his every exhale let out a wave of cool air that tickled her skin right from her sex opening to her midriff. Her toes started twitching involuntarily and she could feel the blood rush all the way up to her chest; her nipples stiffening and rising; and goose bumps popping up on her areolas. The crevice between her breasts, which hadn't sagged with motherhood thanks to Adriana persuading her to take out an employee gym membership and hit the fitness centre at lunch whenever she could, felt moist with sweat.
She sensed the first wave building. His thumbs had her splayed wide open to his world and the tip of his tongue was doing swirls on her clit; then it started to lick her, in long, slow strokes with just the right pressure. She squirmed and her sex pressed against the tip of his nose, making him moan unintelligibly while his tongue worked on her. It found its way into her entrance and probed, doing more long, slow swirls on the lubricated walls of her cunny.
Sarah felt him shift position and his tongue withdrew. She gasped relief and her chest stopped heaving, but only for an instant. Her breathing started getting more rapid and shallow again as two fingers found their way deep inside her and started exploring, searching for her elusive G-spot.
While David's fingers roamed in her wetness, the tip of his tongue moved faster over her sex, darting here, there and everywhere, doing laps around her labia; then long, gentle, tantalizing strokes up and down the sensitive area between her sex and her derriere; and then pressing into her clitoris again. "Oh . . . oh," she heard herself utter softly.
In pure reflex action, her palm started massaging circles in his thinning, peppered hair just at his bald spot while she pressed his head harder against her sex and trapped him with her raised thighs.
She tried to concentrate on a mental image of the surf making ripples in the sand at Cocoa Beach last July, but her head was racing and silently screaming with ecstasy.
She thrashed her head into the pillow and clenched the sheets desperately, twisting the starchy white cotton and pulling a corner towards her, trying not to come just yet.
David's fingers were still tickling her, moving faster, up, down and all around her insides. She felt two more fingers and then his thumb enter her and then start to curl up into a fist. Where had he learned that, she thought. His whole hand twisted, turned, tantalized deep inside her. "Oh, God, David," she muttered.
She felt her muscles start to spasm and contract around his fist and then the wave rushed ashore. Her hips started to heave and buck against the mattress and her toes twitched faster; then her whole body racked at once and her tongue began licking her dried-out lips. She could hear herself breathing as rapidly as a steam locomotive speeding down the track and trailing a cloud of pure, perfect white boiler smoke. And then suddenly she could see nothing but stars dancing before her closed eyes.
"Ohhhhhh," she moaned as her whole body continued to buck and quiver violently and uncontrollably, not wanting the orgasms to end; she finally began to come down off the high as David gently retreated his fist and slowly brought his tongue to a stop and planted soft kisses on her labia and clitoris, for a final taste of her.
Eventually her breathing slowed and her heart stopped pounding against her breast. Sarah released her grip on the bed sheet, and brushed escaped strands of flowing, flaming, thick red hair away from the corner of her mouth. When the wave of ecstasy had fully subsided, she opened her eyes and squinted as they adjusted to the soft glow of the room. She released her tight thigh-grip on his head and lowered her legs onto the rumpled sheets.
David looked up at her with his chin resting against her mound — the day of stubble was making her bare, shaven skin itch down there in her love triangle, but she didn't care. She could smell the musky smell of her sex on his face, and it aroused her again.
The corners of his mouth turned up in that special, loving smile he always had after eating her out.
"God you tasted and felt good," David said. "There's nothing I enjoy more in the world than going down on you. I thought you were going to break my nose there for a minute when you started to buck."
Her whole body — deliciously chunky was how he had always described it — jiggled as they laughed together, and she clasped a hand over her eyes, feeling embarrassed at her own extreme pleasure. Then she reached out and ran her index finger down his long, angular cheek. "Thank you. That . . . was wonderful. I really needed that. It's been too long."
David shifted his head up and rested his cheek contentedly on the soft fleshy triangle between her wide hips. His breaths, deep and slow, were tickling her skin and giving her goose bumps but they were drying the sweaty dampness, and that felt good. She twirled a lock of tousled hair that had fallen over his brow, and smiled and him. They just lay together with their bodies locked in the sexual afterglow, and neither spoke. He still really does lust for me, she thought.
Life had gotten in the way of sex — of any kind of intimacy — between them lately. She was sure it had been at least three months since they'd been near each other. She'd lost count of the days and weeks. And that had been driving a wedge between them, she was sure they both knew.
She had to give him credit. He'd managed to fend for himself and get Cynthia off to grade three every morning, and to swimming lessons every Tuesday and Thursday evening for three weeks while she was in Europe touring the newly-acquired manufacturing plants in France and The Netherlands. She knew she was almost a stranger to him the morning David was standing there in the arrivals area at one a.m. holding a single carnation, after the plane landed late in the winter storm.
And then David had come down with bronchitis that took six weeks to clear up, and after that he was just gone early every morning on the long commute across the city to manage the busy design and production department at MHA. She knew they were in the midst of three new ad campaigns for major clients whose names she could never remember, and he often didn't get home until ten or eleven, after leaving the house at seven-thirty.
And it was always a challenge for her to get Cynthia out of bed every morning in time to have a proper breakfast and catch the school bus for eight o'clock as well as get herself out the door and to the office on time.
Not to mention how they seemed to spend every evening since last September doing nothing but struggle with the child through homework that no eight-year-old should be doing night after night, and that seemed to accomplish nothing but eating up their precious-little quality family and couple time. It was making their daily existence torturous and exhausting.
The lack of intimacy and sex between them had just made her angry and want to jump him because her body was craving satisfaction and bonding. And she wanted him to jump her — desperately — but he wouldn't, and she couldn't bring herself to ask him why. Over the last few weeks, they'd touched less and less, barely kissed goodnight, and not even talked about it.
She knew she'd grown irritable and frustrated after sleeping alone in their king-size bed night after night. It made her pull away on the rare occasions in the last three months that David had made a feeble effort to reach out and hold her or kiss her on the cheek or run his hand over the derriere she thought was too wide and chunky while she moved about the kitchen at dinner time.
It annoyed her that he inevitably picked a moment to get the least bit sexual when she was busy throwing together anything that Cynthia could be persuaded to eat, and popping in microwavable dinners that had seemed to have become their own standard fare because it was too hard to think of what to cook for themselves. "I just didn't want to disturb you," David kept repeating the mornings after the many nights she could hear the door lock downstairs and the couch creak as he too crashed alone in the darkness of the house.
The feelings of abandonment, separation and loneliness made her cry herself to sleep; some nights alone in the darkness of their bedroom, she curled up her body under the covers and contemplated what it would be like to have a torrid sexual affair — with anyone — just to have somebody touch her and still want her at thirty-eight. Then, as sleep finally overtook her, she'd always feel guilty even thinking that way because she knew she loved David and had married him for life, and besides, what would it do to Cynthia?
And then, last Tuesday evening while they were waiting for Cynthia's swimming lesson to end and were sitting at the pool side breathing in the god-awful smell of chlorine, he'd suddenly leaned over and said, "Sarah, I miss you. I've missed you so much. I need you. I need to touch you and hold you so tight. I feel like you don't want to be with me anymore. I need to make love to you. I need to see that derriere of yours naked." He'd always liked to tell her how much he loved her ass, especially when she wore tight denim that hugged the curves.
A sense of relief had instantly overwhelmed her, and that was when they made the pact to cash in some of the Airmiles points they'd been collecting for so long. "I've wanted you so bad I could take you right here, right now and I wouldn't care who was watching," she'd said.
Sarah took in a deep breath and sighed. David pulled himself up and away from her, resting on his haunches between her legs. She giggled when he blushed after realizing that his cock was already getting hard and was pointed at the stucco ceiling. "Let's stay here a while longer," she said.
