by Rocco of the Writing group
Chris and Renee also appear in "
Snuggy-Wuggy
". You can read the stories in any order. Even I don't know which one comes first.
"Renee, I love you. Please let me help." Chris looked so unhappy. The sad expression clashed oddly with the bright green of her buzzcut, which always looks cheerful to me. I hate seeing her sad.
I reached out with my left arm, put it around her waist and pulled her against me. My right hand carefully set the herbal tea down on the bedside table. "I love you, and knowing you love me does help. I just don't know what else you could do."
Chris held me tight. She's so tall, when we hug standing up, my nose is right at the height of her cleavage. She was in her usual nightgown, one of the few things she wore that I hadn't sewn her. I don't enjoy lacework, and she loves to wear it. The faint, wonderful scent of her bosom, familiar and ever-enticing, was calming and exciting at the same time. My arms went around her, feeling that familiar size, the way she towered over me and was wider than me and could embrace me and totally surround me and make me feel safe and secure and desired and... oh, it can be overwhelming, even after a couple of years of marriage.
Her chin lowered onto the top of my head, Chris's signature move when she wants to be in control of what we're doing. She has no idea she does that, and I never plan to tell her. It's adorable, and I love knowing when to go passive and enjoy whatever she's planning. I could feel my muscles relaxing.
Her voice, whispering into my hair: "My dearest darling, you haven't slept in two nights, not enough to matter. You have bags under your eyes. Your hands are trembling so much, you stuck yourself twice today." That was true. I hate puncturing myself with a needle when I'm sewing. Getting blood on customer garments is bad, and I have to rinse it out with cold water immediately, then wait for them to dry.
Also, it hurts.
I bent my head and buried my face between Chris's wonderful tits, enjoying the softness, the warmth, the wonderful, always-surprising fact that this amazing person loves me and likes it when I nuzzle her like that. I spoke into the space between the boobs, as if I was talking to her breastbone. "I love you, and I know you love me, but you can't sleep for me, sweetheart."
"No. I can't do that, but I can do other things. Here, I'll give you a chance to call me a nerd and say I should be on Big Bang Theory: I did some research on insomnia."
"You're a nerd, and you should be on BBT, except your beauty and charm would overshadow the female lead." Of course Chris would do research if she wanted to help me. It's as natural for a data scientist as me sewing her a pair of gloves had been, last Christmas.
"Thank you." Being called a nerd isn't an insult to data scientists. Of course not, I would use my tongue for a pincushion before I really insulted the light of my life.
Two large, gentle hands were caressing me now. Her left hand was stroking my hair. She's always loved it. On our first date, she blurted out how hard it was for her not to play with my hair. She's one of the palest people I know, when she blushed she was red as an apple. I had to kiss her to make her stop being so nervous. To this day, we can't decide who seduced who, but that was the only first date that ended in sex for either one of us. Of course, it was the last first date for both of us, we got married 9 months later and never looked back.
Her right hand was caressing the back of my neck. It felt so good, the tense muscles from two sleepless nights relenting a little. "Love, why didn't I ask you for a massage when I knew I needed to relax?"
She squirmed a little, pulling just far enough away from me to kiss my forehead. "You hate asking for help, my proud, stubborn, wonderful delight. Even from me. Unless I seduce you into it." and then she kissed onward, my right cheek, my left, and on to my lips.
I wondered, am I that stubborn, to be this miserable and not ask for help? The answer came to me immediately: well, I didn't ask for help, and I am this miserable.
Only a tiny bit of my attention was thinking. The rest of me was feeling her lips on mine, then leaving to trail around my neck, feeling her stroking left hand go down, down, down my hair, slowly, and getting slower, slower... Something about the way she does that can hypnotize me, almost. By the time she came to the end of my ponytail, I was completely where she wanted me: passive, accepting, just experiencing. I wish I knew how she does that.
Her hand ran off my hair, stroking on down the middle of my back, starting just below the shoulders, slowly, so slowly. Down, down, down, and finally coming to my ass. By now she had paused her kissing and the neck caresses. I was so aware of that one hand and what it was doing.
The hand cupped my right butt cheek. Just held it for a time. Squeezed--not hard, not digging in with her fingers (which can be exquisite, but she didn't do it that time), just a rhythmic pumping, at the pace of a slow heartbeat. I found myself leaning forward into her, holding onto her to stay standing, I was so relaxed suddenly.
She bent her head to whisper in my ear. "So here are the things I got from my research. One: try to be physically tired when you go to bed. So, I have to tire you out." Her tongue followed her words into my ear. I absolutely melted. I was already turned on. Of course I was, the sexiest green-haired nymph in the history of the world was caressing me. When she stuck her tongue in my ear, it took "very stimulated" up to "Oh, please, take me now!" Suddenly, instead of holding her, I was clutching her.
Then she swept me up in her arms and carried me to our bed. It's times like that, that I enjoy being so much smaller than Chris. She taught me what it feels like to "swoon" when your lover whisks you away. I automatically go limp and put my head on her shoulder whenever she does it. Not anyone else, just Chris. I trust her so much.
By the time she put me down on the patched, soft comforter, I was already more relaxed than I had been in a couple of days. She immediately started unbuttoning my robe. Yes, I have a bathrobe that buttons. I'm a tailor, I like my garments to be made to fit my actual measurements, not a generic "loose enough for everyone" size.
Chris stripping me is probably my favorite thing to happen, except when she said, "Yes", and the day she married me.
She didn't just unbutton, of course. Chris is a very systematic thinker and planner. Data scientist, right? She would undo one button, stroke the exposed skin, kiss me, kiss me again, caress my tit through the robe, undo another one, kiss my neck, stroke my hair, caress my now-bare belly... It was a wonderful way to go from relaxed and desiring her to tremblingly excited and desiring her desperately, and done so gradually and so lovingly that I was whispering, over and over, "I love you. Oh, I love you."
When the robe was unfastened, she helped me get my arms out of the sleeves and tossed it away, over a chair. Lay down beside me, and kissed me on the lips. We kissed like that for a while, just enjoying the feeling. She licked at my lips, then pressed her tongue in. Then she pulled back, smiled directly into my face, just making sure I knew her feelings about me (and I felt my soul quiver). Then she leaned back in, kissing my lips, but then the sides of my neck, the hollow above my breastbone. Meanwhile her hands were caressing, my shoulders, then my tits, then back scratches. She didn't let me get bored. My nipples were as hard and dark as black licorice--they get super flushed and engorged when I'm very aroused.
She moved her lips to my boobs, switching back and forth. Her right hand, of course, migrated to my crotch. She used the left to support herself. My own hands were on her head now, not guiding her or anything, just touching. I was breathing fast, drops of sweat forming on my face. She was stroking me, gently, slowly. The lips on my tits were warm, slippery with saliva, and her tongue was leaving tingling trails on my skin.
Then she stopped, pulling off her own t-shirt and sweatpants and panties, and we were suddenly both naked. To my surprise, she pivoted to face my feet, kneeling over my head, dropping her own pussy gently onto my face. She's so much taller, it's hard for us to 69 without Chris hurting her back. She leaned back, her hands each holding one of my boobs. My hands were pinned under her shins, leaving me happily helpless, totally at her mercy. That thought made me rub my legs together in excitement.
"I said you should be tired when you go to bed and sleep. You have to do some of the work, brightest of jewels."
My tongue was already licking her. Her pubic hair is a buzzcut, too, but she doesn't use dye that close to her pussy, so it's her natural blonde. I'm glad, it tastes better that way. Chris tastes great.
I have a pretty good idea by now of what she likes. Long, slow strokes on the labia get her going, so I did that. Usually she facesat me facing the other way, but this was fun. Her asshole was "winking" at me a little, she was very turned on herself. Her hands never stopped caressing me, either. I switched to putting my lips on her and sucking gently, while my tongue teased her clit. She switched what she was doing, too, leaning way forward and holding herself with her left hand so her right could caress my pussy again. We were both squirming!
Chris was very close. I stopped just teasing and did a rapid right-and-left-and-right scrubbing motion on her precious button, and she made a sound like "Aaaa" and her thighs clamped onto my face and squeezed and her pussy gently pressed into my face and she was coming right on top of me. She didn't squirt this time, probably because I couldn't use my hand to stimulate her G-spot. The moans she was making sounded pretty happy, though.
After she came, she rested her full weight on me for a couple of seconds--she knows I like that--and then scooted back so her belly was over my face, and her lips and tongue could touch me where I really needed them. I don't think we had ever been in this exact position before. Her belly on my nose and lips was oddly sensual. Chris works out, it was firm muscle covered by a thin layer of fat and a thinner one of skin. I started kissing her there, just to let her know I love her.
I didn't get a lot of time to appreciate that sensation before Chris distracted me. She wasn't being slow and patient now, she was just making me come. She usually isn't that driven, but she used every trick she could to speed up my responses, pushing me so hard it was thrilling, even aside from how good it felt. She was trying so hard to please me! By the time I realized what was happening, she had lubed up two fingers and they were inside me, working together with her mouth as she licked and sucked. For a little while she had her tongue on my labia, her fingers in my vagina, and was using her nose on my clitoris. I might have giggled if it wasn't such an overpowering sensation.
I found myself trying to reach with my hands, to stroke her skin. I couldn't. My arms were still pinned under her thighs. Realizing again that I was so helpless pushed me over the edge, and I started shouting "Yes! Yes!" into her belly as my hips thrashed wildly and pleasure shot through me, radiating from my center all the way to my scalp and the soles of my feet.
