You have to understand this: despite my lover's sexuality and beauty, she tends to hide her light under a bushel in public. She rarely wants her physical appearance to be the center of attention.
It's a long story as to why this is so, and perhaps that's a story for another time. Suffice it to say that she reminds me of a line from the movie,
Moulin Rouge
:
'The greatest thing you'll ever learn is to love and be loved in return.'
So, I work hard to teach her this great thing, to please her with subtle hints and praise, telling her how nicely a dress suits her, or telling her how much I love the blonde highlights she's had done that day.
She will only wear a low, low cut blouse for me on a night out when she wears a jacket to keep the chill off her shoulders. In this way, she secretly wears the blouse underneath for me alone, cleavage heaving underneath the jacket.
While, in its way, this thrills us both, I wouldn't mind being able to openly gaze and admire my lover's charms, yet, she will always bear the shadow of doubt implied by my open admiration, so certain she is that she cannot possibly be the cause of real sensual devotion.
How can I make her believe that although she is not physical perfection, she is more than enough to strike the flint, to kindle the fires in my heart and my loins, and thus she may as well be perfection to me?
When I do chance to spy her nakedness in our busy life at home, she will sometimes tuck herself up and holler at me for staring and verbally praising her lusciousness. Yet, once we are in bed and warmed up good and plenty, she loosens up naturally and nakedness is no longer a problem. Under the cover of the privacy of the bedroom, as you will plainly see, she has no qualms at all. This brings me to a rare moment that is the subject of this story, this scene...
*
I had lain down in our bed to rest for a minute or two and soon was napping. Drowsily I came awake to hear whispered humming from the walk-in closet. She must have just gotten home from work to change, I thought, half dreaming.
Then I glimpsed her nakedness through the crack in the partially closed closet doors, her milky white skin shining in the closet light's glare. From my position there on the bed, I had the rare chance to ogle my lover as she moved about, unaware of my admiring gaze. It was as if I were seeing her anew.
I saw her large breasts bared without thought, and watched as they bounced with her steps. Her areolas were big and pink. Her coloring all blended with her lovely auburn hair: deep brown eyes, white skin, pink nips, and auburn pubic hair adorning her reddish pussy.
She bent over to pick something up from the floor and I was privy to her glorious pussy lips, long and outsized, hanging down like thick wings of a butterfly. I imagined sucking on these for hours. By now, my cock was getting quite hard and putting wicked thoughts into my head.
She slowly sauntered out of the closet, still humming, still sweetly nude. Her glorious breasts swayed and jiggled with each move. Through half-closed eyes I watched every nuance of her sensuousness that seemed to flow from every step - her full hips, the curve of her back, the bounce of her fine ass. This woman was all mine. I loved it!
I felt a stirring in my loins that went deeper than the roots of my cock. This was a full body rush. The moment was a creation of wonder.
Without a word or thought I stood and followed her, embracing her as she stood at the mirror applying creamy makeup remover. I kissed the luscious nape of her neck, caressing her thighs then her sweet ass cheeks. Her sexy humming stopped and a delightful squeal escaped her lusty lips. My hands moved slowly up her torso to knead her pendulous breasts, something I know she loves.
I moved on to her large areolas and nipples, stroking them until they began to bunch and harden. Playfully, she slapped my hand, yet knowing I would not be deterred.
Before things got too far, I told her I had to pee. As I turned to the toilet and pulled out my hardened cock, it took a bit for the stream to start flowing. When it did, I felt her behind me. She peeked over my shoulder, her hands on my butt cheeks.
"Stop or I'll get too hard to finish," I said laughingly.
Instead of stopping, she placed her left hand over mine as it held my cock. She ignored my plea and continued to grip my hand while I continued my business, watching with curious interest as my yellow stream gushed into the toilet. Her right hand stroked my right ass cheek.
"My, my honey, you got yourself a handful there, umm?" she murmured, pressing her head against my arm.
I nodded in agreement.
As I began to finish, she nudged her hand underneath mine and held my cock as I peed.
"So this is how that rocket feels when you pee," she said with a quiet, growling mew.
I could feel my cock respond in the grip of her womanly touch, her fingernails painted bright red curling around my thick shaft. Her luscious breasts were pressing my back, her hardened nipples poking into me with turgid intent. She even pulled my foreskin back, shook my cock and queried, "All done?"