Late For Brunch 1

It's Sunday morning and we have a brunch date with family. I walk upstairs with my espresso and I hear water -- my boyfriend has beat me to the shower. I don't mind, we have plenty of time.

I never know what to expect when I walk in on my boyfriend in the shower. Most days, it's a utilitarian event. Some days, he stands under the waterfall for an hour letting the heat and steam unwind his body and mind while he solves the issues of the moment. Still other days, he's filled the shower with a variety of large toys that he uses to stretch himself and then insert, push, pull and manipulate until he's found the particular sensation he's looking for - be it to reduce daily frustration or pure pleasure. While I am a regular and enthusiastic partner when he feels this need, the shower is his place alone for this. Our shower is his oasis.

And so, espresso in hand, I open the bathroom door and take the three slow strides to the shower not knowing what to expect. I smell the crisp apple scent of body wash mingled with the warm, steamy air and see none other than my boyfriend in a sumo squat flinging his flaccid penis around the shower making some sort of image on the steamy shower door.

"What on earth..." I mumble.

He has finally taken notice and starts to explain he's been watching a TV show where a man's occupation is creating art with his penis. Could he create in this way? He's decided to try.

The surprise wears off and I start to giggle. I cannot stop. He's gyrating his hips and now he's mastered swinging his penis in a circle. My mind has created a soundtrack somewhere between what would be appropriate for a burlesque show and the circus.

My boyfriend is an engineer, a tinkerer. He's inquisitive, curious. He enjoys failing because that means he can try again, and, solving the problem is occasionally more fun than the arriving at answer.

Could he create art with his penis? He can say YES! with confidence.

We are both laughing as he opens the shower door and pulls me into his oasis. We're kissing good morning and making small talk about the upcoming day. His right hand slides from my hair to my waist to my buttock. He's gently kneading and chatting when his left hand slides down to my other cheek. There is a subtle change as his hands coordinate and slip down both raising and spreading my buttock cheeks. His eyes refocus on mine like he's just realized I'm there. All trace of laughter is gone now and we are kissing with perceptibly different intent.

Sometimes we talk in advance about what kind of encounter we're hoping for, but this morning, I only need intuition. His fingers are groping. When they find purchase, I'm already slick and relaxed in a way that comes only on days when my mind is stress free and there is no To Do list lingering from the days before. His fingers start to massage and stretch with purpose. While we're kissing, I know he's calculating. Can I take his whole fist? His fist and his cock? Both his fists?

I am doing calculations of my own. Have I heard bedroom doors open or the heavy footfalls of our teenagers in the kitchen? Do I hear our dogs alerting the whole neighborhood that someone has the audacity to walk past our yard? Do we have time for this?

His right hand slides into me and curls into a fist and I decide we will make time for this. His hand has been here enough to know what I crave, widening his fist just enough so it can't be removed, he pushes in and gently tugs against my pubic bones. One push, several small tugs. He rotates his hand, pushes up, gently pushes down. He pushes his fist into me with more force and leans in to kiss my neck but I know he's checking to see if I'm panting, which I am.

I can feel his cock against the small of my back. I know I can take it as well as his fist but I let him decide. He says he loves watching his hand move in and out of me and I could happily stay here and do this all day (some days, I do),. He can slide his cock in and come when he's ready.

He pushes in harder, with a force and rhythm that almost always makes me orgasm. I think he's going to let me come but, with his left hand firmly encased in my loosening pussy, he slowly adds fingers from his left hand. He pushes and prods and methodically moves his fingers all around his right hand opening me wider until he finally stops and slides his cock in next to his hand. With the force of his hand and cock together, it takes what feels like no time for us both to come.

We kiss and giggle and wash each other off. My awareness shifts and, once again, I smell the crisp apple scent of body wash but now noises of the kids in the kitchen, dogs baying in the yard and family obligations takeover my consciousness.

Miraculously, we make it to brunch only 10 minutes late. "Traffic" I say to our family. They nod understandingly and we smile our secret across the table as our morning begins blending into our day.