Miss Athena Supreme
- 2 years ago
- 23
- 0
A Love Supreme free porn video
A Love Supreme
By Heidi Lynn Mon
It was raining again when I finally looked up from my
grade books and glanced at my watch. This really
didn't surprise me, since it had been raining almost
continuously for the greater part of the week.
According to the guy on channel 11 with the really
bad suits and the toupee that resembled an irate
muskrat, there was to be no relief from the weather
until at least Sunday. Rain or shine, however, today
was Friday and there was very little the weather can
do that would cast a cloud over the finale of another
endless week.
I absently rubbed my calves feeling the muscles tight
and strained through my pantyhose. Even the most
comfy heels can?t stand up to 9 hours of chasing
Thomas Anderson?s frog (again), refereeing kickball,
fighting the school board over any number of
bureaucratic hang-ups, parental conferences, a
monumentally disastrous art class (But, then, aren?t
they all?) and even occasionally, teaching. The
weight of the week suddenly caught up with me and I
decided that grading the remaining exams could wait a
few hours until I was home and far away from my
fellow teachers, books, and the ever-popular dirty
looks.
After trading my marginally comfy heels for almost-
heavenly tennis shoes and socks, I stuffed my papers
and supplies into my beyond-ancient Winnie the Pooh
bag I had carried to class every day since my
student-teaching days. Checking my purse for keys and
a piece of contraband gum, I bid a fond adieu to
another week of the most wonderful and most taxing
job on the face of the earth.
It had been almost eight years since I transitioned.
In fact, the term transsexual seemed almost stupid
now. The point had always been not to be a man who
became a woman, but simply a woman. It?s been a
strange, sometimes joyous, sometimes heartbreaking
journey, but one that I have never regretted. I am
reminded of this as I approach the door and stop, as
I do everyday, and smile, once again having caught my
reflection in the glass of my homeroom at John Bryant
Elementary School. All the instances of anger and
frustration, confusion, pain, and heartbreak seem
small and petty. I see a happy, confident, beautiful
woman in a flower print dress and sweater. A young,
married woman going home to the home she shares with
the most amazing man, to the life they?ve built
together. I am struck by how absolutely normal and
quite possibly boring I really am, and how it's
absolutely the most wonderful thing in the world.
Remembering that I do want to get home before the
next presidential administration, I lock the
classroom door behind and make my way to the front
exit. Good-hearted Mr. Lentle, the Janitor, let me
out of the building after I thanks-but-no-thanked him
for the use of his umbrella. Runny makeup and wet
clothes would be a welcome trouble now that another
week of wrangling 26 (27 if you count Jeremy Spengler
on those rare days he actually shows up to class)
pre-adolescent minds through "Our Country, Our
History", "Newberry Hill Science" and the ever
popular "The Heart of Grammar" known in hushed
whispers in the back two rows as "Farts of Grammar".
Even I have to admit it's a much better title.
A short walk through the less-than-delicate shower
and I'm on the road for home. I briefly regretted not
take Mr. Lentle up on his offer, but though semi-damp
it's a swift and peaceful trip home with afternoon
showers on my VW Beetle?s windshield and soft blues
on one of those radio stations at the very end of the
dial that only seem to come in on rainy days. Twenty
minutes and I'm pulling into the driveway of our new
home, doing my best to forget that I have enough
homework myself to last the weekend, plus. Jeremy's
car isn't in the garage yet, so I decide to get
changed before dinner.
It strikes me again as I step into the hallway and
glance at Jeremy's art hanging on the wall. I think
back to our years together, me standing by him and
supporting him through art school. He is doing ten
times that at my side through transition and my
elementary education degree and the ensuing battles
with the school board to get a job. All the lean
years, all the frustration in our lives that never
stepped past the impregnable borders of our love. We
were each other's cheerleader, best friend, hero,
warrior, critic, and inspiration.
To say that then or now I simply loved him would be
simplifying the most brilliant, wonderful and total
adoration any heart has ever felt for another. And
here we were, married, secure, united by heart and
mind and soul. A future full of promise, a the
beautiful home of our dreams; with so little lacking
in our lives, I was looking forward to finally, after
years of sacrificing, going in for my sexual
reassignment surgery at the end of this school year.
Two months away and, at one time, my seemingly
insurmountable journey would be complete. I could
never be here without him; I would never have found
the strength or the force of will to pursue my dreams
without his love to light my way.
Then and there I decided that homework could wait.
After all, even the teacher can play hooky once in a
while. I called Jeremy on his cell phone and, as
expected, he was still at the gallery overseeing his
new showcase display. He promised to be home in half
an hour. I knew that outside of Jeremy-standard-time
that translated to a little over an hour. I checked
the fridge and freezer, and quickly got dinner
started. Next I set up some strategically placed
candles among the boxes and plastic-wrapped
furniture.
With stuffed peppers, lemon-garlic kissed shrimp and
a healthy dose of his guilty-pleasure instant mashed
potatoes and gravy just this side of prepared, I
bolted for the bedroom, organizing more candles down
the hall as I went. As I hit the bedroom door I was
already stripping. My shoes, socks, pantyhose and
slightly moist skirt were off in a flash, although I
had a three stooges moment trying to unbutton my
sweater and blouse while simultaneously trying to paw
through the packing tape on my box of lingerie.
Naked as the day I was born (With a few notable
additions) I showered, shaved, powdered, and
perfumed. With an eye on the clock, I went all out on
my makeup, doing my best to stay just this side of
slutty. More 1940s screen idol, less Kelly Bundy. I
ran to the kitchen and back for a few last minute
trimmings to dinner. For my hair, I had precious
little time remaining, so I simply pinned it up in a
semi-bun, leaving lots of spindly strands to hang
down in the back, and two long curly ones to the
front of either ear. I added two long jade hairpins
for effect, and also switched out my conservative
silver hoop earrings for a pair of flashy gold
dangles, a black and gold choker for completion and I
turned, with ten minutes to spare, to my clothes.
Had I time to plan and shop, I would have picked up
something new. As it was, I didn't even have time to
repaint my chipped and smudged nails. I chose a
hunter green and black corset with lace around the
bodice and bottom. At the risk of looking a little
too much like an escapee from Moulin Rouge, I added
fishnet thigh-highs; green and black strap heels and
the thong panty to match the corset. Checking the
mirror, it wasn't bad at all. I was expecting it all
to look too campy but it actually was very alluring,
if a bit melodramatic. Besides, in the candlelit
dining room, among the boxes and sheets and soft glow
of a clear moonlit night, a little melodrama seemed
just about right.
An hour and twenty minutes past our phone call, I saw
the lights of Jeremy's Hummer pull down the drive and
around to the garage. I lit the last of the candles,
hit play on the John Coltrane CD, and put the non-
alcohol cider (Another Jeremy guilty pleasure
special) on ice. With baited breath I waited in the
front hall listening to his footfalls on the concrete
floor of the garage.
Jeremy opened the door looking tired but excited to
be home as always. Not expecting to come face to face
with me, he started to yell "Honey, before you kill
me, remember I love you" his usual response when he
stays at the gallery longer than expected. He didn't
get much past the letter H before his jaw hit the
floor and his portfolio and backpack fell to the
carpet.
I walked towards him, making a valiant attempt at
what the old detective novels always called
'sauntering' but more likely looking quite drunk, and
embraced him with all the love in my heart.
"I just wanted you to know that I am the luckiest
woman in the world. I can never, ever repay you for
the love you have given me, for the joy you bring to
my life every day, but I wanted to give you a little
taste of what ever moment is like for me."
He looked at the soft glow of the candles briefly
then went back to looking at me. He didn't stare any
longer. He looked into my eyes and told me volumes
without saying a word. His gaze lingered down my body
and but his gentle smile never moved.
Overcome with love for my husband, I started to talk
again, but he silenced me with a fingertip to my
lips. He kissed me softly and closed his eyes. He
reached out and stroked my cheeks with both hands.
Feeling each curve, my chin, even my nose that I
always make fun of but still love since it's the same
as my mothers.
His lips again brush my cheeks and my lips as his
hands slip down the soft curve of my neck to my
shoulders then again down my arms. Though the house
is warm, I feel Goosebumps rise from head to toes. I
instinctively want to reach out and hold him as close
as possible, feel his warmth and his strength. But I
do not, because first and foremost I want him to
rediscover every inch of me.
His hands cup my breasts, first through the satin and
lace of the corset, but then, sliding down and under.
My heartbeat pounds in my head like a bass drum, but
still I wait.
He reaches down, stroking my legs through the silken
mesh. He's always loved my legs, never failed in four
years to tell me how beautiful they are every day. To
tell me how beautiful I am every day. Another wave of
love hits me full on as I remember so many more
reasons why I am so blessed to have him in my life.
Finally his hands reach between my thighs then up to
my penis. Penis. A word I hate and a cruel trick of
nature and fate that I never allowed to define me or
hold me back. Jeremy never let it stand in the way of
his knowledge that anatomy be damned, his girlfriend,
then fianc? and then wife was a woman in every sense.
He was never afraid to touch it and accept its
presence, even when I was. He slipped his hands down
my panties to trace an electric, invisible line where
my legs meet my crotch and my will finally breaks. I
reach out and grab him, forgetting my class
schedules, forgetting the food, the world falling
away to leave only the man I loved and myself.
Together, we are above it all. Our lips meet, our
arms round one another. I kiss the nape of his neck
and he moans and I press on, kissing his neck and ear
as he tries in vain to focus on me. Tonight, though,
it's not about me. It's about the man I love and
nothing else.
Holding each other as close as possible we weaved
through the clutter and climbed the stairs, following
the candlelight. We didn't even make it to the bed.
In the hallway outside our bedroom I fell against the
wall, my knees weak, every fiber of my body longing
for him and only him. He slips his hands down the
corset again, pushing it, revealing my nipples that
are already straining at my flesh. His lips and
tongue caress each in turn as his fingers tease its
twin.
My hands, finally free to roam, undo his belt then
his pants. I'm far beyond teasing and thrust my hands
down his shorts to wrap my fingers around his
manhood. It's warm and hard and I instinctively begin
working it. He moans, faltering in his licks and
pinches. We both tumble slowly to the floor never
wanting to let go of one another. I feel the warm
glow spreading from my belly on out to my arms and
legs. Waves and waves of electric joy threaten to
engulf me, but I push on, remembering that this night
is for him.
I crawl back and get to my knees, pulling the pins
from my hair and letting it fall over my shoulders in
one quick gesture. He looks, smiling, at me and he
reaches up to stroke my cheek. I return his smile and
slowly lower my head. I begin to lick up and down his
legs and between his thighs. From the corner of my
eye I see his toes curling in the candlelight.
My fingers again trace the line of his crotch,
plucking at the side of his penis. His warm, boy-
smell fills the hall as I see pre-cum glisten on the
end of his erection. I lick it off and just as his
senses go into overdrive, I take his entire length
into my mouth. I savor his moans and rejoice in the
tingle of his fingers stroking my back and head. I
move up and down using plenty of saliva to make him
slick. He's so hard and his penis is a furnace
waiting to be stoked. I tongue him, tasting the
saltiness smelling the nutty odor of his hormones
mixed with sweat. I'm hit with another wave; every
nerve in my body begs to have him inside me.
I crawl forward, never taking my eyes from his eyes.
Even now, in the heat of his passion, his eyes are
clear, brilliant, loving, and so kind. This part is
always so bittersweet for him. The longing on his
face is undeniable, but it's always tinged with
concern and worry for fear of hurting me or moving
too fast. I whisper to him again that tonight is his
night, he sets the pace and he makes the rules. The
truth is, he is the only thing in the world that
matters. Not just tonight, but always.
I saw his eyes soften again. The fear and worry gone,
he?s confident and sure again. Standing up, he sweeps
me into his arms. I find myself caught up in wave
after wave of warm sensations at the feeling of being
caught up in his strong arms. He smells of incense
and paint and sweat and palatable lust. He carries me
through the bedroom door and to our canopy bed.
The windows are open and the smell of after-rain
drifts into the room. I feel a slight chill, but I
can?t tell if it?s the cool breeze or his lips
tracing a path up my spine. I get on all fours and
rub my butt against his crotch. His manhood spasms at
my touch and he lets his hands wander down my
shoulder blades, past my bra, around my waist and
garter belt, and to my thong. Sliding out of his
pants and underwear. He lightly pushed the tiny thong
aside and ran his fingers along my cheeks and gently
into my crack. Again, his lips find my neck and I
quiver all over at the multitude of sensations. His
hands slide down between my legs and around, stroking
my genitals lightly. I moan and arch my back. Now
it?s his turn to tease and as much as I want to
concentrate on him, Jeremy always finds as much
pleasure in my ecstasy as in his own. Still, I can?t
help feeling terribly guilty and I start to protest
again. This time, it?s his turn to stop me.
"Uh-uh, honey. As much as I appreciate dinner and the
romance and all the trouble you?ve gone to, you?re
the best thing to come home to. Ever since the first
time I saw you, I?ve loved you. That is truer every
day. No matter what, I have the most beautiful, most
wonderful, most amazing wife in the world, and I get
to come home to her every single day. Every day is
special for that reason, and this night isn?t just
about me. It?s about you and I and our love."
With that, he kissed my cheek and began stroking my
right breast. I moaned and pawed at the covers. I
almost couldn?t take the pleasure and joy coursing
through my body. With his other hand, Jeremy reached
into our nightstand and removed the bottle of lube.
He ceased caressing my nipple and instead began
working the lube into my bottom with his fingers. The
soft squish of his fingers in and out of my body sent
new tremors through my spine and limbs. Dexterously,
I reached behind and took the bottle from him and
began spreading the gel along his penis. The first
little bit made him falter, but soon he was unable to
concentrate on my lubrication any longer. I turned
back around and lay my head on one of our pillows as
I stuck my behind up rubbed against his crotch again.
He reached around me, gripping my hips and slowly
working himself inside me. I cleared my mind, pushing
away the instinct to tense up, surrendering to his
invasion. I felt the head of his penis kiss my bottom
and the slurping noise as he pushed in and pulled
back, in and back again. The teasing was unbearable
and I could stand it no longer.
I pushed back against him and felt first the slide
and a pop as he penetrated me. It was always
disconcerting when it first goes in, but he
immediately picked up my rhythm and the strangeness
gave way to deep pleasure. My insides felt like
velvet as he slid in and out of me and I cried out
into the pillow again and again and again. I felt him
spasm as he fought to keep going, trying to keep the
powerful orgasm at bay. He moved his hands up to my
breast again, rubbing them and flicking my nipples.
He kissed my back and kept pumping into me. My lust
spilled forth as I cried for him to pound into me
harder and faster. I reached up and began stroking my
own parts in time with his thrusts. I heard him moan
softly and his pattern changed from fast to slow and
precise. With a final push he came pumping warm jets
of cum deep into my body. I let go just after, pushed
over the edge by the feeling of being filled up by
him. I cried out loud with pleasure and pushed back
into him as hard as I could, feeling my cheeks
tighten around his shaft, not wanting to let go of
the joy of being one with my husband.
Jeremy pulled out of me and I collapsed in a heap. My
smile stretched from ear to ear and my entire body
felt like it was glowing. Jeremy picked me up and
held me in his arms. His eyes were somewhat glazed
from the afterglow but they still held the love and
kindness I knew so well.
"So, teacher, did I pass?" he asked me with a sly
smile. All I could manage was something between an
"uh-huh" and a moan. I lay in his arms for twenty
minutes, running my hand, once the feeling came back,
through his chest hair as he stroked and kissed my
forehead. When we both finally found our strength
again, dinner was quite cold and we had to nuke our
romantic dinner in the microwave. We ate on the back
porch with plenty of candles and our thick robes, as
well as one another, to keep us warm. We talked and
laughed as the drizzle continued just a few feet
away. We said, "I love you" at least two dozen times
throughout and never hesitated to stop eating and
talking to just look at one another and smile in the
warm candle-glow.
Jeremy refused to allow me to do the dishes, so I was
able to shed the increasingly uncomfortable lingerie
and scrub off my makeup. Having had enough of being
sexy for one night, I slipped into a flannel pajama
top decorated with purple evening skies and pink
fluffy clouds, cotton undies featuring multi-colored
kitty-cats, and warm thick socks. By the time he came
up took a shower I dozing lightly, wrapped around my
teddy bear and thinking of our amazing night
together. I woke to him pulling back the covers and
curling up next to me. He slipped his arm under my
pillow and kissed me softly and slowly. He drew me
close and we whispered our love once again. I nuzzled
against his strong chest, thanked God for the most
perfect life imaginable, and the most wonderful man
any woman could ask for, and blissfully slipped off
into dreams and memories of my one and only.
End
Please let me know what you thought of A Love Supreme
by email or IM at [email protected] Thanks for
reading!!!
Bree
- 20.07.2022
- 14
- 0
Masturbation Pleasure Supreme
- 3 years ago
- 17
- 0
Paean to L S or a Love Supreme
- 2 years ago
- 11
- 0
