The Request 2

Nervously, I bit my lower lip as I considered his request. The request was a simple one, “Strip for me.” He reclined in the chair, patiently as he waited for me to comply with his request.

My mind scrambled for something to say, I stood before him, fully clothed, searching for some sort of a coy comeback. “But, there’s no music,” it was all I could stammer, my cheeks turning crimson. He shook his head no and motioned for me to begin. My mouth started to form more words; he held a finger up to his lips motioning for me to be quiet.

“Strip for me, now,” he said again, his voice more demanding. My face was ablaze; I began to unbutton the buttons on my shirt, stalling for time. I looked down, trying to focus my attention on my task, avoiding his intent stare. “No, look at me,” he said motioning with his hand. I raised my head, focusing on a spot on the wall, not wanting to meet his gaze. My blouse was now unbuttoned, it flapped loosely, revealing my bra. I slid the blouse down, laying it neatly on the bed. “Quit stalling and strip for me.” His voice was commanding and hinted at his impatience.

“But I’m not wearing anything sexy,” I stammered in protest. I felt silly standing in front of him in my bra and jeans. He didn’t say anything; he rapped his fingers on the arm of the chair impatiently. I knew that I wasn’t going to win this one, not this time. I unzipped my jeans, turning away from him, I lowered them, bending far over as I slid them off. I was trying to ease the intensity of the moment by joking as I wiggled my butt in his face. Shyly, I folded the jeans, resting them at the foot of the bed. I stood before him clad in only a bra and panties. My bra was gleaming white against the pallor of my skin. My panties were plain cotton briefs, nothing alluring, but he watched me intently.

“Take the rest of it off,” he said as he sank further into the chair. I didn’t know what to do, weren’t women supposed to dance and prance around while they stripped? Gingerly, I slid my panties down to the floor revealing a mass of dark pubic hair. I could feel the flush of my cheeks as it traveled down my neck. He nodded his head, encouraging me to continue. Stalling, I slowly lowered the straps of my bra, revealing one breast and then the other, reaching behind me; I unhooked it, watching as it fell to the floor.

I bent to pick it up; he stopped me saying “No, I want you on the bed now.” I looked at him embarrassed, shy, unsure of what he was going to request next, and unsure of what I would do next. I sat on the edge of the bed, the cool smoothness of the bedspread sending chills up my spine. “No, I want you to lay back. I want to watch you get yourself off. I want to watch as you make yourself come for me.” My heart raced, there had to be a way out of this one. I lay back as he directed, stalling for time as I fluffed the pillows and smoothed out the covers underneath me. “Do it.” He said as he rose from his chair.

I ran my hand over my breasts, my nipples becoming erect under the tickle caused by my touch. I proceeded to slip my hand down the softness of my belly, going lower to the fuzzy, soft, down of pubic hair. I raised my head to look up at him, he nodded approvingly, “What about you?” I asked. He wasn’t shy at all; eagerly he ripped his shirt off revealing a nude, well-muscled chest. Unabashedly, he pulled off his jeans and his white briefs, showing me exactly how interested he was. He supported the bulk of his already hard cock across the palm of his hand. The level of his arousal flattered me. I hadn’t touched him, and yet he was hard and full of want.

Gently, I slid my fingers in between my already wet lips. “Mmm,” he groaned as he watched. I began to stroke myself slowly, spreading my legs widely affording him a better view. “That’s it baby,” he said as he lowered himself onto the bed. With my other hand I reached out to touch him, with a sharp slap, he pushed my hand away. “No, I want to watch you. Get yourself off for me.” I stopped for a minute, pulling my hand out of my pussy, confused. Forcefully, he grabbed my hand guiding it back to its’ former location. Taking my finger, he slid it back between my lips. Kissing me softly as he spoke “Do this for me, I want to see you come.”

I stroked myself slowly at first; I was still uncomfortable with him watching me. All of the lights in the room were on, I felt shy and embarrassed. I motioned for him to turn out the lights; he shook his head “no”. He began to caress my nipples, rolling them tenderly between his fingers. I moved my fingers a little faster, feeling my clit enlarge beneath them. He rose up on his haunches, pulling at my knees, opening my legs wider as he watched. He inhaled deeply as he lowered his head between my thighs, “I can smell you now, keep going for me babe.” I deftly tickled and rubbed at my clit, the sensations reeling up my spine causing my breathing to become quicker and my heart to pound. Just knowing that he was enjoying watching me, knowing that getting myself off was getting him off was causing quite a thrill for me.

“My baby is close now,” he said as he slid a long, slender finger into my pulsating wetness. I could feel the muscles of my vagina as they gripped the invader. I cried out in pleasure, raising my hips in need. I continued massaging my clit as he slid his finger in and out, “That’s it,” he said as he found and began to stroke my g-spot. “I can hear you, you are so ready to come,” he said as he stroked me making me wet, pushing me to the brink of no return. With a cry of sheer pleasure, I came. I could feel the juices as they ran out of me; hot, wet, sticky, “Delicious,” he said as he licked his fingers, sucking off my juice.

I rolled him over onto his back, he was now my plaything, and his cock was still up, still hard, pulsating in my grasp. With one deft maneuver, I mounted him, moaning in ecstasy as his prick plunged deep within me. I rocked slowly, allowing him to relish every move. Instinctively, he grabbed my hips guiding me. “Oh, I am so close,” he moaned. I shook my head as he looked up at me; I wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily, I wanted to play with him. I rocked faster and faster, his body tensed beneath me, as he stiffened, I slid off of him. “No” he gasped as he grabbed at my hips. I held my finger to his lips to silence him. I lowered my head to his cock, lapping at it; I slid it into my mouth. I could taste myself on him; I could smell my scent on him. I tasted the saltiness of his come as it dribbled out. “I can’t hold back much longer,” he cried. I took the wholeness of his dick into my mouth, almost gagging myself. “Oh my god!” he exclaimed as he rose his hips driving himself further in.

I teased it and played with it, alternating licks and deep sucking, tracing the trail of veins, flicking its’ opening with my tongue, lapping up drops of salty desire. Gently, I stroked his balls, tugging at his scrotum. His breath came out in short gasps, his body was on fire, and he grabbed fistfuls of my hair, pulling on it as he rolled me onto my back. He lowered himself on top of me, driving himself deeply into me. I cried out in pleasure, rising up to meet him. We lost ourselves into the depths of want and desire, each in a private world filled with the waves of joy and passion. He quivered, resting him weight on me as he came filling me with steaming hot come. I could feel it roll out as he broke our coupling, flopping onto the bed beside me.

He rested his head on my shoulder as he toyed with my breasts. Usually afterwards, I was in a rush to cover myself, to hide what I felt was undesirable and ugly. Tonight, I lay with him arm in arm, wrapped in the warmth of embrace. He wound my hair in his fingers, tugging on it gently as he looked up at me. I lay there enjoying the embrace, basking in the warmth radiating off his body, relishing the masculine scent of him as it melded with my perfume. He slid his fingers down my neck and rested his hand on my nude breast, tenderly; he teased my nipple to full erection.

Shyly, I slid his hand away and reached for the covers. “No,” he said as he grabbed at my arm, stopping me, “I want you to stay just the way you are.” I hesitantly complied with his request. He released my arm from his grip, lowering his head; he began to tease my nipple with his tongue, gently nipping at it with his teeth. My back arched in response to his erotic gesture. He opened his mouth widely, taking in the fullness of my breast, sucking eagerly. He trailed his fingers down the softness of my belly; progressing downward he slid them in between my slick, damp lips. I moaned as he stroked me, bringing me back to full arousal. I began to relax, not ashamed of my nude state, I began to respond, eager for more.

I reached out to stroke his penis; I found it hard and ready for me. He trembled as I stroked it, gently at first than harder and harder. I reached out for him, guiding him by his hips, I navigated him on top of me. Not shy now; I greedily grabbed his cock, guiding it inside of me. The walls of my vagina tightened around him, he didn’t respond as I urged him on, grabbing at his ass. “Get yourself off on my cock,” he whispered into my ear, unable to hold back I did as he commanded. I rocked my hips, gyrating in that archaic rhythm, responding to his urging as he whispered to me, “That’s it baby, get off on me.” With a moan of sheer pleasure and excitement, I spread my legs wide, coming. He sensed my excitement and drove himself deep inside of me, quivering as he joined my in ecstasy.

Our joy was interrupted by the pitter-patter of tiny feet coming up the hallway and stopping at our bedroom door. “Mommy,” said the little voice. Our pride and joy, our little daughter interrupted our physical joy. She was barely four years old. I covered him up and threw on my gown. Smiling, I opened the bedroom door, and picked her up. “I want a drink, mommy.” I gave her the tiniest drink of water and tucked her back into her bed. Kissing her tenderly on the cheek, I tiptoed to the room shared by my two sons, cracking the door slightly, I found them both sound asleep. I glided down the hallway, careful not to make a sound as I went back to our room. He was also fast asleep; I slid in between the covers, careful not to wake him, thinking about the closeness we had shared.

I cuddled close to him, wrapping my arm around his waist; he stirred slightly, grabbing my arm, pulling me closer. I lay there, listening to him breathe, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. I let my mind wander, thinking about what we had just shared, the passion, the pleasure, and the joy. After all of these years; after a mortgage payment, three children, the changes in my body caused by the unstoppable hands of time, wrinkles, graying hair, my little tummy pooch, he still wanted me. Maybe, just maybe love erases the scars placed on us by time. I didn’t see his thinning hair, the lines around his mouth and eyes; they are just a part of the man I love. Maybe, my own graying hair and lines were a part of the woman he loves. Maybe to him I was more than wife, more than companion, more than a soccer mom; to him I was a woman with all the other roles that I play in life coming second to that. I snuggled down closer, thinking to myself about how many different roles we play in our lives and what those roles mean to those who love us. Contentedly, I drifted off to sleep.