Shhh
- 4 years ago
- 42
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Shhh! free porn video
“I want you to go to bed tonight,” he began saying.
“I go to bed every night,” she interrupted, and laughed.
“Can I finish?” he continued.
“Go ahead.”
“I want you to go to bed tonight, and wait until he is asleep. I know he is in a separate bed, but I want you to be absolutely certain that he is asleep.”
“Ok. And then what? What’s the point of waiting for him to be asleep?” she asked.
“Once he is asleep…once you are absolutely sure of it…I want you to undress and then get back under your covers naked.”
“I can’t do that!” she protested.
“Why not?”
“It isn’t…I…I never do that. He’ll know something is up if he sees me…”
He interrupted her. “He WON’T see you. That’s the point of waiting until he is asleep.”
“But what if he gets up…and asks me to…if I…if I have to get out of my bed?”
“You’re over-thinking. Don’t do it. Stop already. Didn’t we discuss over-thinking the other night when we were chatting?”
She blushed, as if embarrassed. “Yes. Yes, we did.”
“Of course we did. And I meant what I said. Every word.”
“Fine. I’ll stop. But being naked…on my own…I don’t do that. He will know for sure that something…”
“He won’t. I promise you that he won’t. Do you trust me? At least on this point…do you trust me?”
“Let’s say I do. What is the point of all this?” she asked.
“That’s part of trust. It’s faith. If you knew everything, you wouldn’t need faith.”
“We’re talking about you asking me to get naked under my covers, not about the existence of Hashem.”
“Maybe we are. Maybe everything we discuss comes back to that question.”
“That’s not right. Me being naked has nothing to do with…” He interrupted her again.
“It doesn’t, perhaps. But maybe it does. And you’ll just have to believe me on this. You’ll need to trust me and have faith.”
“That’s in short supply in my bedroom, you know. Did I tell you how long?”
“Yes. And that’s between you and him. But it’s not between you and me. He’ll be asleep, remember? So what does or does not happen with him, that doesn’t matter to me right now.”
“Ok. Fine. I wait for him to be asleep. Then I get naked under my sheets. And then?”
“Then? Then nothing. You go to sleep.”
“Nothing? What the fuck?” she exclaimed.
“Faith, my beautiful Sabra!”
“Your Hebrew is as bad as his. I’m not a Sabra. I was born in Canada and only made aliyah a few years ago. A Sabra is native born here in Israel”
“Forgive me…I’m not perfect.”
“That’s the first hint of modesty I’ve heard from you since we started chatting.”
“I never claimed to be perfect. I only said that I think that finding each other again was perfect. It was bashert.”
“Ha! So easy for you to throw in your half dozen Yiddish or Hebrew words. You’re sitting there back in Canada, and you don’t know what it’s like here. The words I’d be using aren’t words like bashert.”
“Oh? And what words would YOU be using now?”
“They didn’t teach those words to you in Hebrew school at that Conservative synagogue of yours, that’s for sure.”
“Ok…enough pulling Hebrew day school superiority on me now. I take back my incorrect use of sabra, ok? Just do as I am asking and have some faith. Can you do that one small thing? For me?”
“I like that,” she replied. “That’s honest. You’re asking me to do something, for you. That’s honest. That’s you saying what you want, and not just saying what you think I want to hear.”
“Do we have a deal?” he wrote, but typing a Hebrew phrase in Hebrew letters.
“Ha! Using Google translate now? Trying to impress me with your Hebrew? You’re so transparent.”
“But your answer?”
“Yes. It’s a deal. I’ll do it tonight.”
“Good. And thank you. It means a lot to me.”
“I still don’t see the…”
“Faith,” he interjected. “Have some faith.”
“I will. Ok…goodnight. I’d better get off this chat and go to bed. He’s going to bed now…I’ll wait for him to be asleep. We’ll finish this chat tomorrow.”
“Layla tov,” he responded. At least he knew how to say goodnight in Hebrew.
She closed the app on her phone, and plugged it in for the night to recharge it. She changed for bed, in silence, and got into her own bed, as she did every night. She was very much aware of his breathing in the next bed. Funny, she thought, I usually don’t even notice him being there any more. He breathes very heavily. Like a bear. She giggled to herself, thinking of herself as Goldilocks and the Papa Bear was in his bed. She was in the one that was “just right”, and she closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing, as it became more regular, more like background noise for her.
She waited for it to stop, and for the snoring to begin. That would be when she would know that he was asleep. She looked beside her at the clock. 11:25. Late for her on a normal weeknight, except she didn’t have to be at work the next day. The day after would be Shemini Atzeret, and Shabbat too, and her boss gave her the day off beforehand to let her prepare for the holidays.
The snoring began. Right into it, she thought, with no warm-up. Deep and loud. How did she sleep with that normally? She wondered. Most nights she paid no attention. But tonight she was very much aware of him being there, of his breathing, of his presence in that bed only a few feet away. It might as well have been a few miles away, she thought. Or in another country. How long had it been? How many years had she slept alone, and not know his touch? She didn’t finish that thought. She shuddered, disgusted at herself when the notion of his touch came into her head. Stop it! Those were the words she used with herself when she found herself thinking those thoughts that didn’t serve her. Stop it! She repeated those words to herself and soon the sound of his snoring seemed to fade, as her thoughts returned to the instructions she had been given shortly before retiring for the night.
Naked. That was reserved for herself now. With him in the room, there was no reason for her to be naked. The shower. The change room at the beach. That visit to the hospital, putting on a gown. That was naked for her. But not in this bedroom. That was for herself, and not for him.
She wondered aloud, briefly asking, “why?” Shhh! She shushed herself. “Shit,” she thought, “I hope he didn’t hear me.”
She listened. The snoring continued. Steady. Deep.
He was asleep. He hadn’t stirred to her momentary lapse and use of her actual voice, not the usual internal monologues she had with herself lying in her bed.
She quietly and deliberately removed her nightclothes. She pushed them aside, under her covers, ready for her to retrieve just in case. A fire. A kid coming in to ask for something. The arrival of the Messiah? She giggled to herself thinking of Elijah the Prophet arriving in his flaming chariot, and turning back when he saw that she was naked.
“Good,” she thought. “We’ve waited forever for him to announce the arrival, and now…now we wait again because some old friend halfway around the globe asks me to get naked in my bed.”
She pushed her clothes further away from her, though, almost to the edge of the bed, under her sheets, and she lay on her back, her naked skin upon the cotton fitted sheet, enjoying the cool feel of her fresh linen on her body. She spread out her arms like an angel’s wings, and felt the portions of her sheets that hadn’t been warmed up by her body yet, refreshing and sending a shiver through her body. She moved her hands back and forth on her bed, touching, searching for more cool spots.
She thought back to his words. About faith? That word had a completely different meaning for her. What did he know about faith? She thought of his other words. Sabra. She giggled again. It was cute how he tried to throw in some Hebrew, thinking it might endear him to her. Sabra was so funny. “I am so NOT a Sabra,” she thought.
Bashert. That was another funny one. Didn’t he remember their first time around, as friends in their youth? Did he not remember that they never got past being just friends? Good and true friends, but nothing more. He never got so much as a kiss, let alone…
No. Bashert was the wrong word, she thought. This second time around? They were a world apart. Literally. Nothing could come of this…exchange. That was it, she thought. This was an exchange. Back and forth. Not a joining. Bashert was absolutely the wrong word, she repeated to herself.
She thought of some of his other words, though. The ones she closed quickly on her screen when someone came near. The ones that made her heart flutter. The ones that made her wonder. What would THAT feel like?
She thought of those words, and she envied some of what he said. Some of his boldness. Her life now? There never seemed to be a time and place for boldness. She often felt alone. Lonely. Be bold? How? With whom? Where and when would she ever…?
Her thoughts drifted. Her hands drifted. She didn’t realize it, as she lay naked on the cool bed, but her hands had drifted, and she felt her nipples beneath her palms, as both hands cupped her full breasts. She felt her nipples harden to her touch. Her own touch, she thought. He has written words to me about HIS touch, on someone else’s nipples. For me, she thought…do I always have to settle for my own touch? Her nipples grew harder still as she imagined the touch of a different hand, of his hand perhaps, caressing the curves of her body as she would lie there, and imagining her nipples pressing hard into his palms.
“Fuck!” she muttered, softly but audibly. “Why does he have to tease me this way?” her thoughts continued. “He’s over there…and I’m here with…with Papa Bear a few feet away. Why is he teasing me this way? I know his touch would be not too hard, and not too soft, but…just right. Isn’t that right, Goldilocks?” she asked herself with a chuckle.
“Maybe I don’t want it just right or too soft,” she thought. “Maybe I want him to just fuck me hard and leave marks where he sucks on my nipples a bit too hard.”
Her hands were no longer on her breasts. One was lingering just below her breasts, but the other had moved further down her soft body. The other hand was now feeling the change from one zone to another. From belly to just below, where her hair began to grow. She felt the soft curls begin and her hand descended even lower. Her fingertips reached a small nub, and then touched the beginnings of some wetness.
Her fingertips continued, and slid between the slickness of that crease.
“Fuck,” she muttered again.
She was soaked.
“What would he be saying to me now?” she wondered to herself. “What would he say if he could feel my wet pussy? That’s probably the word he’d use. No vagina. No labia. Just pussy. Maybe I’d correct him and say something.”
She felt the wetness pervading her sex.
“Maybe I’d just tell him to call it my cunt, and freak him out by being a dirty girl for him.” She plunged a finger into her waiting sex as she thought this.
“I never use that word. He’ll go nuts if I ever say that. Hmmm…maybe that’s what I want?”
She continued to slide her finger into herself and after a minute, she found herself being too tired to continue. Damn! It felt so good, she thought. But she didn’t have the energy for some reason. She couldn’t do this herself tonight. She imagined what it would be like to have someone else do it for her. She sighed. And she pulled her finger up to her face, and smelled her own arousal. And then she dipped her finger between her lips and tasted herself.
“His lips. His tongue. Does he want to know what I taste like?” she wondered. “He hasn’t seen me in decades. Would he even want me now? Would he want to know what my pussy feels like when I think of those words he wrote? Does he even care how wet I’ve been getting when I read them?”
She pulled her finger from between her lips. She was tired. She liked the way she tasted, but she was too tired for second helpings. She could feel her wetness as she shifted her legs, moving herself to lie on her side, clutching at her pillow. She could feel some of her wetness as it escaped from inside, dripping slightly onto her thighs.
“Fuck it,” she thought. “I’ll wipe myself off tomorrow when I go to shower. Now I need to sleep.”
Sleep came quickly to her. Her eyes closed and she found herself in that calm and restful sleep, for the first time in a while. No tossing. No calling out in her sleep, or at least imagining that she was calling out. No movie reels playing in her mind. Just sleep and rest this night. The hours passed in the darkness.
“Shhh…”
She stirred. Did someone just say something? Or was she dreaming that someone said something?
“Shhh…”
She heard it again. She opened her eyes. It was still dark in her bedroom, but she could see the reflection of her alarm clock in something.
It was a pair of eyes, just above her face. She saw the reflection of the numbers in those eyes.
“Shhh…don’t say a word. Don’t be afraid.”
She didn’t recognize the voice. But in a way she did. It had been too many years, and their chats had only been online this past week. But somehow she knew that voice must be his.
Yet it couldn’t be. Not thousands of miles away. How could she be hearing his voice? Or seeing his eyes?
“Shhh…Please don’t say anything. Don’t be afraid. It’s alright now.”
She was silent. She remembered his words. About having faith. She would try, against her better judgment. Against every instinct in her body at that moment. She would have faith and listen.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m here with you now.”
She felt a movement on the bed. She felt the sheets lifting up and she felt the side of her bed lower as the weight of…as his weight lay down upon it and moved under the covers closer to her.
She felt his warmth as he slid in closer to her body. Fuck, she thought. “My naked body!” went through her mind.
And then she felt his warmth up against her own flesh. He was naked too. She felt his thigh press against the back of her thigh. She felt his chest come up behind her, and press against her back, as his arms reached around her to pull her body close to him, as he spooned her from behind.
And then she felt his hard sex press against the flesh of her ass, gently parting the two cheeks and nestling between them. He was warm, and his body melded with her own, as if they were two candles being melted down and made into one.
“I’m here with you now,” he repeated.
She broke with her faith briefly, and spoke.
“But…he’s in the bed…just over there…he’s going to…”
“No, he won’t,” he answered. “He won’t do anything. He’s asleep, and I am with you now. Don’t’ be afraid of anything.”
“I won’t,” she whispered back. And she wasn’t. As she felt her body and his together, she didn’t feel any fear. All she felt was a flutter of her heart.
“How?” she thought to herself. “This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.”
As her questions swirled in her mind, she felt his hands cup her breasts. His palms covered her nipples, and she could feel as they gently rubbed her nipples, as they hardened for his touch just as they had hardened for her own touch. She felt his lips kiss the back of her neck, and a tingle became a shiver that traveled from her neck through her body and down into the depths of her sex.
She felt his hands caress her breasts, at the same time as she felt his hardness press between her legs and touch the wetness she had felt hours before as she fell asleep. She felt him position himself and the tip of his…
She wasn’t sure what to call it. She felt so silly, like a teenager again. Shy at using the words he used. But if he wasn’t shy about using those words with her, she could use them too. She wanted to be bold, the way he had been bold with her.
“Fuck me,” she whispered. “Stick that cock into me already and fuck me. I want to feel you cum inside of me. Now. Don’t hesitate or the chance will be gone. Fuck me now. Fuck me like you wanted to fuck me when we were teenagers.”
She felt the first thrust of his cock penetrate her wetness and find its way into her velvety walls. She was tight as she surrounded him, and she felt him move his hips behind her, and make his way deeper within. She felt his groin hitting the back of her ass with each thrust into her, and each thrust felt like a spear splitting her in two.
“I never wanted to fuck you when we were teenagers,” he answered, as he continued to enter her. “I loved you then, and always thought we would make love with one another. I didn’t know from fucking back then.”
“It seems that you’ve learned over the years,” she whispered with a laugh. “Show me if practice makes perfect.”
“What’s going on?” That voice. It was Papa Bear. “Is everything ok? I heard you laugh.”
The lights came on. “Fuck,” she thought. “He’s going to see…”
In the bright light in her bedroom, all she saw was Papa Bear standing at the light switch. She was alone in her bed, naked, the sheets splayed across her body to cover her, and her hands sweating. Or they were just wet, and maybe it wasn’t sweat.
“You were laughing. What the hell? Dreaming?”
“I guess I was,” she answered.
“Go to sleep. I need to sleep too, you know.”
“Sorry,” she answered, as she rolled over onto her side, away from him, as he turned off the light.
She saw a faint flicker of light on the nightstand beside her. It was her phone.
She reached over, and saw that it was fully charged, so she unplugged the cable. She saw a small flashing light. It was a notification for Facebook Messenger.
She swiped her finger across the screen and opened her display. She pressed the icon for Messenger and saw that she had one message.
It was from him.
She opened the dialogue and saw the time of the message. 4:38 a.m. She looked at her clock. 4:40 a.m.
She read his message.
“Next time I will taste you. I can feel your wetness still, the way it surrounded me, the way it is still clinging to my cock. I can smell your arousal, and it is so damn hot! You are hot! I can feel your breasts still beneath my hands, and I can still picture your ass in front of me as I entered you. But next time, I need to taste you. To run my tongue up and down your sex. To suck on your clit. Does that shock you when I talk like that? It shouldn’t. You know how much you excite me. I want to explore every square inch of your body, and I want to explore every square inch of your soul at the same time. Next time he won’t interrupt us. Don’t ever be afraid. I’m here when you need me. And even when it seems I’ve had to go away, just have faith that I will come back for you. And I know you…I’d normally say don’t cry, but tears are ok. No shame in crying. I will come back for you. And then the only wetness I’ll see won’t be tears. L’hitraot.”
“Damn,” she thought. “He actually used the right word in Hebrew for once.” She laughed and closed her eyes, picturing him in her mind.
She had faith this time around as she drifted off to sleep, and she knew he would be back.
Myra
- 21.03.2020
- 40
- 0
- Category:
- Love Stories
