Allison Richards smiled as she woke to the feeling of her young lover stroking her softly, his warm fingers gently seeking out the wet core of her passion. In the weeks following his injury, caring for him while he healed, she'd grown used to no longer needing an alarm clock. Max woke her faithfully every morning, whether for quick kisses on his way to the shower before he left for work, or on those rare mornings like today when they both had the day off and all the time in the world ahead of them. She shifted to allow him easier access, purring as she felt the brush of his lips between her shoulder blades.
"Did you finally wake up?" he murmured against her back.
Stretching one long arm backward to draw him closer she smiled to herself again as she felt the stiffness of his shaft nestled between her buttocks.
"Have you and 'Little Max' been up a long time?" she chuckled.
"Long enough." he murmured between kisses along the side of her neck.
His fingers continued to stroke and fondle her, causing her to shift restlessly, simultaneously wanting to relax and enjoy the slow build of passion he was so capable of providing, and at the same time wanting to pull him directly into her heat. She settled for nestling closer to his chest, head tilted up for the light, tender kisses he feathered onto her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. She sighed happily, marvelling once again at the rare "magic" that had brought the two of them together, and that had turned instant attraction into growing affection and budding love. There were times when she wondered what the future might hold for them considering the vast age difference between them but always tried to keep her fears at bay, considering instead the relationships of people like Ashton and Demi - knowing that there were no "roadmaps" existent for such relationships - they would have to figure it out as they went along. For now though, the warmth of his fingers stroking her and the gentle suckling of his lips on a taut nipple was enough. Here she could relax the rigid self-control that she exercised in every other aspect of her life.
As his hands and lips continued to move on her body she could feel the heat and wetness building between her thighs, and when he finally moved to taste her she rose against him, back arching and crying out gladly as she came. Max was just warming up though. Rolling her over, face down on the bed he pulled her backwards until she was perched, belly-down, on the edge of the bed. Sliding onto the floor behind her he paused briefly, admiring the picture she made.
"Now THIS is what I call a room with a view", she heard him say before diving face-first into her pussy, spread open before him.
Licking and sucking he tongued her outer lips free of her accumulated nectar, tongue fucking her in search of more of the delicious nectar. Nose pressed against her he inhaled happily, loving the hot, musky smell of her arousal. Her open sex pulsed wetly in front of him, lips blushing increasingly darker colors of rose as her rut increased, a single drop of moisture clung to the nearly hidden pearl that he knew was the true center of her delight. Suckling it like a teat he heard the muffled cries of her pleasure and felt the wet spasm of her orgasm against his face. Unable to resist the need to bury himself in that wet heat any longer he rose, pulling her hips up with him, pausing only for one brief tonguing of the tight rosebud of her anus. He felt her spasm again at the sensation and he tucked the knowledge away for further investigation at a later date.
Stroking her cleft once or twice with his rigidly aching cock he rubbed the wetness over the head, reaching for her hips even as she stretched eager hands back, between her legs, to open herself and guide him in. Without thought he buried himself to the hilt in her, thinking briefly that steam ought to be rising from something as hot and wet as her cunt below him.
This was no longer the gentle, wakening that he had started with, she thought as she reared back against him, hearing the wet slap of their bodies coming together. Like the great elk, she thought....no....bears. From the color of his hair to the light fur of his chest, he was like a boar black bear - and she was his sow she thought happily, giving herself over to her rising passion.
"Weda'," was the cry that echoed through the room as she came again, muscles spasming tightly around Max's cock - pushing him past the breaking point so that with one last wordless cry of his own he surged against her, emptying his aching balls deep within her. Max collapsed onto his side, pulling her against him, his shaft still buried between her thighs, kissing her tenderly along one shoulder.
She began to chuckle happily, soon reaching the point where she was laughing helplessly, gasping for air. Max wasn't sure if he should feel insulted or not but her laughter was, as always, infectious. He felt his shrunken member slithering from inside her as he too began to chuckle, finally breaking down and asking -
"Are you going to share what's so funny, or just leave me 'in suspenders'?" he joked.
Pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes to stop her tears of laughter she explained -
"I was just wondering how many women would be grateful if their day started with getting a cup of coffee in bed?"
"Well, if you'd prefer coffee...."
Max began, when the sound of pounding feet, approaching outside the bedroom door stopped him. The door rattled on it's hinges with each knock from her son Clayton's heavy fist.
"Hey! You in there! Gonna sleep all day? Surf's UP for cryin' out loud!"