My first wife was a very sound sleeper, it would take the loudest claps of thunder to rouse her. Once she got to sleep she'd be immobile for hours, especially if she lay on her stomach (which was her favorite position). This I knew because I was just the opposite, often stuck with bouts of insomnia that book-reading would sometimes cure, but I was still awake far longer than she.
New England summers weren't as hot and humid then as they can be now, so even in August an open window was all that was necessary. It was on a particularly warm, moonlit summer's night that I came back to the bedroom after a late-night piss and noticed that Cynthia had tossed off the bedsheet on her side; since we both slept in the raw, the light from our bedroom window gave me a nicely- framed view of her attractive bottom.
I got back into bed and listened to her contented deep breathing. I reflected upon how lucky I was to have her there, how much she meant to me, and how even in her sleep she could arouse me physically. That damned moonlight illuminated her backside so effectively that before I knew it I was sporting an aching erection.
Well, as they say: a stiff prick has no conscience, and mine certainly led the way as I gave in to my feelings and reached out to softly caress the satiny cheeks of her ass. Supple, warm and buttery was her skin as I tentatively ran my fingertips over the generous but well-maintained geography of her derriere, watching for a change in her breathing.
Nothing. The same contented, soft breaths continued, unchanged. Emboldened, I moved down the bed just a little and began to caress her flesh with the palm of my hand, becoming more aroused as each second passed. My desire was caused as much by the novelty of the moment as by the feel of her; it was far from the first time I'd felt her backside up, the difference here was that she was asleep.
She stirred not a bit as my hand roved over her cheeks, feeling both the softness and the musculature beneath. After a bit I used just my fingertips to gently probe the division between them, careful not to use too light a touch as to be ticklish. Her skin was warmer there, and in my mind I imagined what lay in between and below, which caused my arousal to grow more fierce.
I expect part of my strong feeling was the illusion of control; it was a common fantasy of mine (and, I suspect, of others, especially during that rage known as puberty) to be able to magically explore a woman's body at will, without fear of consequence, and even to bring such a fantasy woman to life with my touch. So, here I was, reliving that feeling.
"Cindy?" I whispered, trying to make sure she was asleep. No response. I said her name again, a little more loudly, but still nothing.
I felt my heart pounding with excitement in the silence of the room. A soft breeze drifted through the window as I raised up a bit and rested on my elbow, intent on getting a better view if I could. But there was only so much the moon could impart. I made do with bringing my face as close as possible to her naked form as I ran my fingers slowly down to the juncture of her thighs.
Cindy's legs were tightly held together; did I dare try to urge them to loosen up? I did, feeling the super-smooth flesh of her inner thigh skin give to my touch, gradually, as I painstakingly pushed with the ever-so-lightest pressure of my fingertips. This seemed to take hours, but I feared that rushing things might rouse her prematurely.
I almost gasped aloud when my wife suddenly shifted in her sleep. Holding my breath, I kept my hand in place between her thighs as she miraculously moved them slightly apart and then abruptly settled down. I stayed there, frozen in place, waiting an eternity to be sure her breathing hadn't changed.
"Cin?" I whispered after awhile, and then repeated, "Cin?" Looking back now, it seems silly that my mind started to think up things to say, as some sort of an excuse, should she have awakened right then; I mean, what excuse would suffice, other than telling the truth?
After a long while I continued, even as I wondered to myself what I was doing. Why not just prod her slowly awake and see if she'd be open to making love? Something drove me instinctively along, though, and I'm glad it did.
I caressed her inner thighs with care, urging her to part further. I paid no mind to the aching elbow of my other arm as my palm cupped the base of one ass cheek and my fingers gently probed up and under. I was centimeters or less from her sweet center, and not about to quit.
Taking her steady breathing as encouragement, I took tentatively ran one finger in to probe the lips of her pussy. The soft, sensitive skin there was familiar territory, but in the darkness it seemed like I was discovering her for the first time. I ran my finger up and down her outer labia, testing to see if my touch would change anything. I could feel the fragile hood of her clit, the nub just under that covering, and the barest slickness of her inner flesh. My cock ached and throbbed even as I felt my breath coming in short, worried bursts.
Soon my palm was pressed tightly to her saddle, two fingers stroking at her outer portal. Her thighs had moved gradually more apart from my urgings. By this time I had resigned myself to the fact that I'd be waking Cindy sooner or later, so I concentrated on softly rolling and rubbing her clit. Giving in to my protesting elbow, I carefully put my left knee on the bed between her legs and my other knee outside them, getting into a close crouching position, one that brought the tip of my hardness into soft contact with her upper thigh. Thank goodness the bed didn't creak!
To my satisfaction, Cindy's lower body began to slowly respond. It was slight at first, but I could feel her opening up, and her breathing started to become more pronounced and shallow. Excitedly, I deliberately probed between her pussy lips to test if she was wet, and to my joy my fingertip was met with a familiar, silky dew. Was she still asleep? At that moment, it didn't matter; I'd instinctively gone ahead with my reckless actions and succeeded in arousing her, that was all I could concentrate on.
