Here is some more from Grace and Brian, as they settle into their new life of domestic bliss together.
Disclaimer: If your name is Philipp Kirkland, I'm sorry. Nothing personal. I had to name the bad guy something.
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Life was much different in the new apartment.
For one thing, we didn't crash into each other as much as before, not that it was a bad thing to bump into her. We just did it now intentionally. Grace would often drag her big tits across my back as she passed, despite there being plenty of room behind her.
"Oops. So sorry about that, honey," she smiled, obviously not sorry at all.
Well, two can play that game, can't they?
Reaching around her to get something easily accessible was my move. Pressed firmly against her rump, and usually sporting at least a semi, I would whisper a gratuitous apology in her ear, while looking down her cavernous cleavage. She would just giggle, and try to get her breasts in my way, forcing me to manually move them.
In other words, we were looking for excuses to grope and tease each other, on a daily basis. Not that excuses were necessary. With my parents thousands of miles away, we had no reason to hide our feelings for each other. Old habits do die hard, but replacing them with new ones can be fun.
Lots and lots of fun.
Saturday mornings were a perfect example. More often than not, Grace was still asleep in my arms, as she only worked when she was taking someone else's shift, as a favour.
Since I was well past getting up to watch cartoons, we would do something animated together, and it normally began with my soft, sexy darling slithering south. From under the sheets, I would feel her tongue licking my morning wood like a stick of candy, before moving to more direct stimulation.
I've said it before and I'll say it again; my sexy nurse gives one hell of a blowjob.
Slow, languid, and unhurried, she would suck me, gradually bringing me to the top of the metaphorical mountain, until I was teetering on the brink. She would then hold me there, balanced on the knife edge, until I was begging for release. Thankfully, she was a nurse, trained to ease suffering.... and she rather enjoyed the feeling of my hot load trickling down her throat.
There was more to our new arrangement than just sex, of course. I had plenty of thinking to do.
When we had gone on our first hike, Grace had confessed a past that she wasn't proud of. It was well and truly history, having ended a decade ago, and the only possible effect it could have on us was a good one.
My personal feeling is that we.... men.... have a problem with what we want. We want our cake, and to eat it too. We want one woman in public, and another in the bedroom. It seems like we enjoy, even relish, the dichotomy; the vestal virgin of virtue we show Mom, who miraculously becomes a thousand-dollar-a-night call girl in the privacy of our bedroom.
Well, I may be young, but even I know we're not born with an innate knowledge of how to make the opposite sex scream in pleasure. It's a learned process. Isn't that the most obvious reason for choosing a mature lover in the first place?
So, I decided to just accept the gift of her well experienced past. She had chosen to provide her attention and love to me alone, and I wasn't going to complain about how she learned to be such a fantastic partner.
No, I would just be grateful. Grateful she had learned.... grateful she had made her decision.... grateful she had chosen me to love.
Since I had chosen her as well, this is the point when I let her lay back, relax, and enjoy my own oral attention. I needed recharging time anyway, so why not make that time productive?
So, I took my place between her thighs. She put one arm behind her head, propping herself up so she could see what I was doing. Even then, her big boobs blocked most of her view, save the slice of clear space in the valley between them.
I remember when Grace had been helping me with my physiotherapy. Perhaps 'inspiring' would be a more accurate word. She had taken her panties off, and put her pussy in the way of my foot, urging me to rub my instep against her. It had been a symbiotic agreement; I wanted to touch the thick, outward-pouting lips I could see down there, and she was desperate to cum. Ever since then, her dangling labia had been a particular favourite of mine.
I just loved running my tongue between the lips, and tasting the yummy juices that always seemed to greet me. I would suck on each lip individually, pulling it out to its maximum extent, and drawing more blood into her excited vulva. Then I'd bury my face in her gaping orifice, plunging my tongue deep.
Grace was usually screaming into her pillow by now. Having only recently moved in, we were trying to be good neighbours, and keep the noise down, so her previous commentary of enjoyment now reached my ears in a muffled state. No matter. I knew what she liked, and was most pleased to give it to her.
Thus, the tradition was established. Weekends were spent mostly involved in sex of some sort or other, and that brand-new bed got broken in very quickly.
The summer couldn't last forever, however, and I soon found myself getting ready for school. A new school, in a new city, where I knew no one, except Grace. I would be starting from scratch, socially. It was a bit overwhelming, but I knew I could get through the awkward stages, and Grace would be there to ease my pain, in her own special way.
I was ready. Bring it on.
***
Okay, I'm full of shit. I wasn't ready at all. As I said before, I was leaving my old life behind, cold turkey. The last several weeks had merely put off the pain of that realization, and Grace had become my whole world, which was great while she really
was
my whole world. Now, she would have company, as I needed to concentrate on something other than her emotional and physical needs, at least occasionally. The world of Engineering and Architecture beckoned.
I was thrown into the deep end, from day one, and forced to deal with my scholastic solitude immediately. I was fortunate to find a few other students who took pity on me, pointing me in the right direction for classes, and then to join them afterward. The beginnings of a whole new network of friends seemed to appear as if by magic, out of thin air. I was still the outsider, but that turned out to be a good thing, as I was new, and new was popular. At least it made me feel somewhat welcome, while I was dealing with the changes in professors, curriculum, and campus layout.
Grace was home already when I returned. She had wished me good luck in the morning, with a kiss, before she headed to the hospital, and had sent me a few supportive texts throughout the day. All much appreciated, but pale in comparison to her embrace when we were reunited. She greeted me with a huge hug, a generous kiss, and the smell of a lovely dinner, already under construction in the kitchen.
"Hi honey. How was your first day of school?" she giggled, clearly feeling as strange asking as I felt hearing it. "Meet any new friends?"
I laughed, and shook my head. The last time someone asked me that was a long way away, and many, many years ago. I think I was four, at the time.
"The day actually wasn't too bad. No personality conflicts, and no surprises in the course outlines. I should be fine," I nodded, "and I
did
make some new friends. They helped me find my way around."
"That's great, baby," she smiled. "Do you have homework to do?"
"Just a little reading. Nothing too strenuous," I replied.
"Well, dinner will be ready in about a half hour, so get to it. Don't make me crack my whip," she giggled. "Unless you want me to?"
Mmmmm, that sounded like fun.
Actually, she did have a whip. Well, a riding crop, anyway. It went with a black leather bustier she owned. The bustier laced up tight in front, and had no cups, so her huge knockers were free to entice me. She liked to wear it with these thigh-high black boots. Six inch stilettos made her quite imposing, and bounced her tits nicely when she walked.
"If you wish, Madam," I grinned, telling her I would service her willingly tonight. She liked to play, just one of the things I loved about her.
"Ooooo, goodie!" she chuckled, hopping happily. "You read.... I'll go put on something less comfortable."
I cracked open a textbook, and was looking through formulas involved in calculating the strength of building materials when I felt the soft touch of leather against the side of my neck. She ran the tip of the crop along my jaw, tickling me slightly, and turning my head in her direction.
