Consciousness came to Dave like a butterfly approaching a cluster of flowers. Small gentle kisses promenaded along his back, at the same time he was aware of a hand exploring through the hair on his chest. Cautiously he opened his eyes to the velvety darkness of the bedroom; the only thing he could see was the fiery red numbers on the clock radio burning 3:28 into his retina. He closed his eyes, letting the sensation of lips and hand travel over his body awakening his senses, arousing his desire.
The cotton sheets felt cool against his skin as the kisses traveled down to the small of his back and fingers circled and teased his right nipple. Then the kisses sauntered up his back as the hand wandered down his chest and stomach. As the mouth reached his back between his shoulders the hand passed over his navel and continued south. Lips inched up his shoulder blade as a palm warmly pressed on his belly its fingers stretching into his dense curly pubic hair. The room remained dark and cool, but Dave could feel his temperature rising. The only sounds he could hear were the kisses and his own deep breaths.
Finger tips burrowed through the dense forest of hair to touch the root of Dave's swelling cock. His breathing quickened as the hand grasped its base and stroked up its shaft to its tip. It continued to lightly stroke his shaft, up and done, drawing out drops of precum, smearing them around its head and teasing its precious little lips. Dave's heart beat loudly in his ears and he rolled over onto his back. He could just make out the outline of his wife, Jean, rising over his body.