Scene 02. Bedroom. Humping. Grinding.

He woke up, when the light from the corridor hit his eyes. The bedroom's door had just opened. She was back. He closed his eyes again, intent on drifting back to sleep. He could hear her in the background, dropping her bag on the floor, hanging her coat, taking off her shoes. The usual, nightly routine.

He opened his eyes again, when he heard the zipper of her skirt going down. It was an instinctive response, he couldn't help it. No matter how tired he might be, he would always wake up to watch a woman undress. Even if he'd seen that woman undress a thousand times before. But it never got old. The slow reveal. Skin and curves and flesh he wanted to look at and touch and bite. For her, it was just another night, coming home from work, getting ready for bed. For him, it was a nightly striptease.

He had still been half asleep, watching her under heavy lidded eyes. But then she finally managed to work her skirt down her legs and he fully looked at her and that was the end of it. He was awake.

Because she was not wearing the tights she usually wore. The ones that went all the way up to her waist, the ones she wore when she wanted to be comfortable and safe. When sex was the furthest thing from her mind. This time, she was wearing thigh high stockings, black and lacy. And garters. Garters that went all the way up her thighs and disappeared under her white shirt.

He hadn't yet look at her face. He thought she had just been getting ready for bed. But now he saw her eyes and she was looking directly at him. She knew he was fully awake and she'd never planned on going bed. Not to sleep, anyway.

This had all been a show, just for him. She wanted to seduce him with the sight of her thighs and stockings and ass. She was looking at him straight in the eye and she slowly turned her back to him and lifted her shirt. She wanted him to look at her, at the black garters touching her skin and framing the round flesh of her ass, as if to present a meal for him on a silver platter. He could see that the elastic from the garters was pushing her, creating a dent that he wanted to palm and lick and bite. But he resisted. He would not move. She wanted to give him a show and a show he'd fucking get.

Her hands moved to the buttons of her shirt, he could see the movement of the fabric. Something good was coming. And it did. She turned around, the shirt open but still on her. Her breasts peaking through it. He could almost see a nipple, when she breathed in and the shirt moved. And he could see the curve of her breast, when she breathed out. And he could see a straight line from her jaw to her neck, to her bellybutton, down to her underwear. She wanted him to see, so he looked. And thought about how he'd like to fuck her. How he'd like to put his hands underneath the shirt and palm her breasts. And how he'd like to move his hands down to her hips and her ass and then touch the inside of her thighs, hot and soft and maybe even a little wet.

But he didn't move a muscle. It was her show. And she called the shots.

She finally started walking towards the bed. She was looking straight at him. She reached him, took the covers off him, straddled him. He could feel her pussy through her panties and through his own boxers. And she could obviously feel his dick, because she started grinding on him right away. She moved her hips back and forth and he grabbed her ass. Not to lead her, but just because he had to touch something or he'd lose it.

He could see and feel her muscles flexing and unflexing as she moved on top of him. He could now see her breasts fully when she moved back and the shirt gapped. And he could feel her hot flesh over his dick. Her breathing told him she was getting herself off, humping and grinding over him. Her movements were getting less sensual and more abrupt, sharper, straight to the point. She was no longer putting on a show for him. She was going after her own orgasm and he was simply there for her to ride and grind her pussy on.

He knew when she came because she stopped moving entirely for a few moments, her body arching, her nipples tight and clearly visible under the white shirt. Usually, after she came, she was soft and lazy and sated. She'd curl up next to him and go to sleep. But this time, she didn't. She got off him, so she could move his boxers down his legs and take her own panties off. The garters and the stockings stayed on. The still framed her pussy. And he could see it was glistening, even in the dark.

But he couldn't look for long because she was no longer interested in giving him a show. She wanted to fuck. She straddled him again and moved his dick to her pussy. There was no finesse to her movements, no sensuality. She didn't care about appearing delicate and seductive. She wanted his dick inside her, fucking her.

He slipped inside her pussy. She was really fucking wet. She growled, looked at him and started fucking him. She was going hard and fast and all he could hear was the sound of her wet pussy getting filled by his dick. She was making sounds at the back of her throat, they might have been words or they might have been groans, but he couldn't tell. She was gone. Her entire world at that moment was her pussy and how fast and hard it could swallow his dick.

She came again. She always came very fast when she was on top. She knew exactly what she wanted. So it didn't really surprise him when she got off his dick, went on all fours and turned round. She moved her weight to her elbows, her ass up in the air, her legs wide open. He could see her pussy, red and wet. He started moving into position, ready to get inside her again. But she stopped him. She turned her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder and said: "I want you to fuck my ass".

He didn't need to be told twice. He would fuck her ass.

He started with licking and when she began to grind on his face, he moved his fingers into her pussy. It was getting wetter and wetter. Both her holes were getting filled, one with his tongue and one with his fingers and her movements were getting sharp again. She was bucking into his mouth and hands violently and her groans were getting louder. She loved using his face as a fucktoy.

He stopped before she could come. He spit into her asshole, grabbed his dick and started moving in. She remained still, until he started fucking her for good. And then he grabbed her hips to slam her against him and she moved and shook with him. His balls slapped her pussy. She was sweating and groaning. She was entirely unaware of how loud she was.

He was about to come. He had been about to come for a long time, but he had managed to hold it off. But fucking her ass was his undoing. She was close again, but he needed her to get there sooner. So he fucked her pussy with his fingers again, one of them circling her clitoris, while his dick was going in and out of her asshole. And he started talking in her ear, telling her how much he loved fucking her, how much he loved to lick her and bite and caress her. How much he loved the smell of her pussy and the feel of her ass. How he could not stop his dick from getting hard around her. How he wanted to fuck her and fuck her and fuck her. Her pussy, her asshole, her mouth.

She came and he came right after her. He didn't let her lie down, until he saw his sperm slowly drip out of her. And only then, they cleaned up and went to bed. This time, to sleep.