Ian (again)
Suzanne James bounded athletically up the remaining stairs to the first floor (what the Americans would call the second floor), her husband Ian in hot pursuit. Suzanne was very slightly drunk after the wine they had shared with Ian's friend and colleague, John. The high she had been on since receiving the invitation to meet the decision makers behind an important selection for promotion involving her husband Ian, had continued through the arrival of their friend John. Even the news that he too was in the running for the important promotion chance had not dampened her spirits. Suzanne was the only one to know of the candidacy of her husband.
She still wore the skimpy nightdress that she had donned after satisfying her besotted husband earlier that afternoon, although now she also wore the thin housecoat she had used for the sake of decency when John had arrived with his news. Now, as she climbed the stairs, she stripped this unnecessary outer layer from herself and threw it down behind her, where it tangled momentarily with the progress of her chasing husband.
As she ran into the bedroom, Suzanne pulled the thin nightie over her head, before throwing herself, laughing and excited, naked on the marital bed.
Her legs and arms flapped and tangled briefly as she settled on the bed, where she eventually came to rest on her back, her arms by her side, and one long leg folded over the other. As Ian, her husband, paused at the doorway to their bedroom, that is how he saw her, naked and vulnerable, smiling and panting, eyes bright with excitement, a vision of loveliness and innocence, exposed on their Queen-sized bed.
Ian's breath caught in his throat as he gazed at her. Once again, he marvelled at the luck that had made her his. He was well aware of the envy and admiration that was often visible in the eyes of his friends and colleagues, of the way that they looked at his beautiful wife. He had recently started to enjoy the excitement that they enjoyed when they saw her, and moments before, he had deliberately held her silhouetted in the front door, exposed to his friend John by the backlight of the house lights as his friend returned to his own house and family.
Now he gazed at her again. She was looking expectantly at him, her eyes candle bright with the love, pride and excitement that she felt towards him. Her teeth sparkling in her smile and her blond hair cast about her on the pillow. Her arms were pressed down at her side, and despite the modicum of modesty, the slightly crossed legs, one over the other, her neatly trimmed bush drew his eyes from the long, slender tapering of her waist to the "V" of her groin. Her skin was clear and dry, well tanned from her sessions at the sun studio, and he knew he loved her above all other things.
He stayed in the doorway as he stripped off his t-shirt and shorts, before he strode towards her, his erection swaying in front of him, like the bow light on a sailing yacht in a choppy sea. As she watched him undress, her eyes shone with an even fiercer light, and her legs involuntarily uncrossed at his approach.
At the side of the bed, he leaned over and took her right nipple in his mouth, sucking it in and causing it to erect between his lips. Suzanne moaned in appreciation, and reached up with her right arm to pull his head closer to her breast. Ian drank in her scent, and thought - not of her - but of the excitement he had seen in his friend's eye. Ian turned his head, her nipple still firmly grasped in his mouth, and looked along her flat stomach towards the neat blond landing strip of her pubis.
Ho loved his young wife; the way she looked; the way she smelled; the way she walked, talked, laughed, cried, loved, felt, blushed, came, smiled, dressed; everything about her was a delight and a mystery to him. Owning her, being her other half, coming home to her in the evening or in the morning, made him happy. He remembered the joy he felt sometimes, after a night shift, when he came home, tired but happy, early on a Sunday morning, the rest of the world barely awake. He would stop and buy her flowers, sneak into their house before anyone awoke, and take her a cup of tea and the flowers to their bed. After waking her gently, and giving her time to adjust to his presence, he would make love to her and feel like he felt now; that she was an essential part of his being.
Ian released her nipple from his mouth, and dragged his tongue down the slope of her lower breast, across the gentle curve of her rib cage, past her oval belly button and the flat plain of her lower stomach. Here his tongue dried from the absorption of her sparse blond pubic hair, and he wetted it in his mouth, interrupting the passage of his devotion, before continuing into the folds of her sex.
She shivered as he reached her intimate corners, parting her legs to allow his familiar access, inviting his attention, and drawing her arms over her face as she submitted to the familiar, but ever-exciting administrations of his tongue and lips.
Ian swung his body round, parting her legs even further to make his access easier. He settled between her legs and lapped momentarily at her erupting sex. As the petals of her sex opened, and her hard button presented itself to his mouth, he sucked it in with his soft lips, feeling her softer inner lips with his tongue, before letting the same tongue run over her excited bud.
This was both familiar and exciting. He knew her body, knew what he was capable of calling from it, and he expertly stimulated her as she continued to moisten and open beneath him. Suzanne thought of nothing except the feelings she was experiencing. Ian was aware of his own hardness, pressed against the bed, and of his own devotion and submission to the needs of his wife.
He allowed his lips to be drawn further south, from her bud to her folds, and beyond. She raised her knees in Pavlovian reaction to his stimulation, moving her hands down to grasp her own knees and draw them up, and automatically raising her butt to his access. His tongue and lips pulled away from her sex, and turned to the delicate rose of her arse; first licking it, and then stiffening and probing it; his ultimate act of submission to her. Her hands tightened behind her knees, accepting his taboo token, opening herself to him.
And so Ian found himself, as so often before, adoring her body in the way he felt most comfortable. Alternating between Suzanne's ass and her sex, wanting to draw himself into her, simply worshipping his wife. He felt her body start to stiffen as her excitement mounted; felt one of her hands reach down to grasp the top of his head and pull him into her; felt her back arch, and her head throw back as she approached her climax, and her hip movements slowed, and her hand pressed his face ever harder against her as she came, and blessed his worship and sacrifice for her with her own release.
Then he felt her body slowly relax, and he caught his breath, between sucking and nibbling at her lips, and making her quiver with the aftershock of her orgasm.
They subsided. She relaxed, then instantly awoke as he repeatedly nibbled at her. He recovering his breath, proud of his achievement, hard cock pressed between his body and the bed. Delighting at the responses from her as he teased and tormented her in her afterglow.
