When I woke up, you were still sleeping. I got out of bed quietly, and went to the kitchen to make some coffee. While the coffee was brewing, I walked outside to pick up the newspaper. It had turned pretty cool overnight and I knew you would enjoy staying in bed while you read the paper and drank your coffee.
The pot was full when I got back to the kitchen, so I filled two cups, picked up the paper and headed back for the bedroom. Pushing the door open I saw you lying there, legs spread and eyes closed tight while your fingers probed your pussy. Your left hand was squeezing your breast as your fingers pinched your hard nipple. Your tongue wet your lips as your breath grew ragged.
"Want some help?"
"Uh uhh," you said, shaking your head. "Mine."
Thrilled to be able to watch, I sat down the paper and one of the coffees, leaned back against the doorframe and sipped my French Roast while I watched you pleasure yourself.
This time, it was pure animal. It was obvious that this was all about your pleasure. You didn't want to have to worry about what I was doing, or whether I was enjoying it. You knew exactly where you wanted to be touched with how much pressure and, by god, you were going to get it.
I could see your juices glistening on the inside of your thighs. Your fingers were covered, too. I watched as you pushed two, then three fingers deep inside. A few strokes then back to your clit. You couldn't seem to decide which sensation your wanted more.
Small sounds were coming from you. Not mouth sounds. Sounds from down in your throat. Grunts and groans. Jagged sounds. Animal sounds. Every time your fingers plunged into your cunt, it was as if the air was being forced through your whole body to your vocal chords. Plunge, grunt, plunge, grunt. It was immediate.
Your hand was moving faster now and small beads of sweat had formed on your upper lip and forehead. The hair on your temples was wet. I saw the muscles in your stomach tighten as your orgasm came closer. Your hand was moving furiously. Forget the fingers in the pussy. Now it was all about your clit. Your middle finger was in the valley between your labia grinding on your little bud. Your two outboard fingers massaged your pussy lips, pressing them together to increase the pressure on your clit. Your legs were tensed and your breathing had turned to a pant with a grunt accompanying each exhale.
Then you started to moan. Low at first, but building to a scream as your orgasm ripped through you. Your body arched so that only your feet and shoulders were touching the bed. Your thighs and calves tightened and displayed corded muscles. Your stomach, too. Your breasts quivered as a spasm coursed through your body. Two seconds...five seconds...ten seconds. On and on it went until, finally, you jerked your hand from your mound and collapsed on the bed. Every muscle limp...your breath betraying your exhaustion...your hair now plastered to your forehead.
I took a loud sip of coffee and you smiled.
