[b]The Adventures Of A Sexy Green Eyed Girl New York City [/b] free porn video

New York City

Some colleagues and I decided to take advantage of the warm Friday afternoon, so we headed to a midtown outdoor café for lunch. On this sunny afternoon the streets were alive and the café was busy. However, you sitting in the corner, wearing that yellow sundress, with the sunlight shimmering off your dark hair quickly caught my eye. I tried to join in with my coworkers’ banter, laughing when I thought I heard a joke, chiming in to make it seem like I was paying attention to them. But the reality is I have become very distracted. I know we weren’t alone; I could still see the shapes of the others in the café and cars as they passed by on the street. But all that was a blur, the only thing I could truly see was you. At first your shy smile pulled me to you, then I imagined running my fingers through your hair. I wondered what it would be like to gently brush your hair to the side, lower my lips down to your skin so my tongue could gently caress your neck and I could taste you for the first time. My gaze was drawn down from your neck, the sultry summer air made your dress cling to you. It was pulled in tight to your breasts, and then it was drawn to every line and curve of your body. My eyes passed the short hemline, and I could imagine my hands gently clasping your ankle, just above your spiked high heels. My mind’s eye could see my hands slowly, gently, glide up your milky white skin. Slowly my eyes worked their way back up your body, I imagined by lips devouring each inch of you as they drifted up along your skin. I watched your breasts rise and fall, with each breath you took. I saw that your eyes were closed and you were slightly biting your lower lip, I couldn’t help but wonder what you might be day dreaming of. I eventually found your waiter and order 2 of whatever wine you were drinking. I excused myself from my coworkers and told them I’d be taking the rest of the day off and that I’d see them on Monday. I walked to your table and asked if I could join you, you allowed me to. As I set the wine down, I reach for your face brushing your hair aside, I lean in to whisper in your ear, our cheeks brush and I say, “Hi my name is Steve and the only thing in the world that matters to me right now, is to softly, deeply, kiss your lips.”

I sit down, I put my hand on the table face up, and you immediately put your hand in it. I sink into the green sea of your eyes, they are so deep and beautiful I can feel them wrap around me. When I look at your lips the word desire is just too weak, I crave your lips like a starving man craves food, all I want to do is hold your face in my hands and kiss you, kiss you with the kind of passion that releases butterflies in your heart.

But I don’t

We are sitting on Broadway, in Times Square, with the world’s greatest aphrodisiac, New York City, spread out before us. The City will be our foreplay.

We begin to talk, but you playfully deny me your name. I determine that since you won’t tell me your name, I will call you “The Green Eyed Girl”. You explain that you are newly divorced, that this long weekend in New York is a grand adventure; it will be the first few pages of the next chapter of your life. At home you are normally the caregiver, a mother of two, who you already miss on just this first day in New York. Your marriage wasn’t bad, it had just stopped being good a long time ago, at some point you were no longer husband and wife, but just roommates with the same last name and a joint checking account. As the father of your children you know your Ex will always be part of your life, but today, right here, in the cross roads of the world, it is your time, no ex, no children, just a woman turning a corner in her life. As you look into my blue eyes you see, kindness, gentleness, but mostly passion. You see a man looking back at you that hungers for you, that desire’s you. A man that hangs on each word you speak as if he had never heard nor seen a creature so beautiful, you see more adoration in my eyes in the first five minutes we are together, then you had in the last five years at home. We order lunch, we chat, we laugh, and you tease me each time I call New York City “The City”. You remind me that there are many other cities in the world, I tell you that there may be many others, but they are all “others” and that New York is, “THE” City. The only thing that can distract me from you, is you. Because of the heavy summer air you pull your hair up in a pony tail, lifting it away from your neck. You press an ice cold bottle of water against your neck; leaving behind little drops of water. I watch one droplet as it falls along your skin; it rides down each well, over each rise. It follows the contours of your flesh, it comes to rest in that little recess at the base of your neck. A second drop falls in and pushes the first one out. I watch as it slides down your chest, eventually slipping down between your breasts. All I can think is that I want to trace its path with my tongue.

I clear our check and we start to walk to the Empire State building, we head south down Broadway walking through the man-made canyons “The City” is so famous for. We walk holding hands, we laugh, even giggle, any one listening to us would think us to be teenagers. I wrap my arms around you, I pull you in close, you offer me your lips, I lean in and whisper – not yet. You look back, part annoyed, part perplexed; I say trust me, not yet. We pass through Herald Square and make a left on 33rd. I buy our tickets and we ride the elevator to the 86th floor. Your moist skin reacts to the air conditioning; I see goose bumps on your arms, your nipples stand erect. We are in the back, against the wall; my arm is around you, my hand slides down pass the hem of your dress. Slowly my hand moves up the bare skin of the back of your thigh, until it comes to a curve of flesh. My fingers drift over the curve and caress your exposed bottom; I lightly draw my nails across your cheek.

The doors open, you grab my hand and pull me off the elevator. The observation deck is crowded, there is no real chance of privacy. We face each other, holding hands, our fingers interwoven. I press you back against the rail, both hands over your head. I look into your eyes, I see that you give yourself, not to me, but to this weekend, to the first pages of the new chapter in your life. I tilt my head down and lean in, our lips meet, my heart pounds, my pulse races, every sense I have is alive with electricity. I bring my hands down to cradle your face and kiss you deeply. The kiss is passion, it is lust, it is desire.

You ask why the kiss had to wait till now, to me it was simple, no matter what else ever happens, the first kiss of this new chapter of your life will always have happened at the top of the Empire State Building.

We head to one of those oh so touristy sets of giant binoculars. Looking south we see the Freedom Tower, standing in the foot print of the Twin Towers. I point out the Statue of Liberty, then Elis Island. I’m behind you, I have my arm around your waist, each time I point to a landmark, I lean in I kiss your neck, I start at the back and taste you as my lips crawl forward, then I whisper in your ear. I point out the Verrazano Bridge, as we watch the ships sail beneath it; we wonder where they have been. We find ourselves lost in conversations about exotic cities and distant ports. Then you sigh and say “maybe that is my next chapter, sign on to a freighter and sail around the world.” We both laugh, just a little, one of those uncomfortable, forced laughs. You rest your head back on my chest; you tilt your head just a bit and say “You know, if not for my kids……”

You snap back, push me in the chest and with a smile say “enough of that, what’s next!” We playfully bounce around to the other three sides. When we are done looking for landmarks we head to the ground floor. One of those double-decker tour buses is out front, you grab my hand a pull me on to it. We head to the upper deck. It’s a little later in the day, so the deck has maybe a dozen people on it, separated into a few small groups seated towards the front. We head to the back row and inside corner. You lean on me, snuggle against me, resting your head on my shoulder with my arm around your waist we ride through the City listening to the guide. During the ride you stretch your legs out along the seats next to you. As time passes you slip down, you’re lying on your back, resting your head on my thigh. I run my fingers through your hair and massage your scalp. My fingers knead the muscles in the back of your neck, they work their way up your cheeks, till my thumbs find your temples. While I massage your scalp, my fingers start to move through your hair. As I gently pull your hair you can feel me draw the tension from your body with each stroke.

You are so relaxed you almost sound like you are purring. Well into the ride you pull your knees up, the hemline of your dress falls to your waist. You sit up a little, so you are lying across my lap, you extend your legs out again but you leave your hemline waist high, meaning the only thing between my touch and your Venus is a thin piece of yellow satin. The other tourist are oblivious of us, they spend their whole time looking forward and up, the high back chairs mostly hide you from their view. However, anyone looking out a window above the first floor, which in New York City could easily number into the tens of thousands of people, if not more, can see us with ease. My left arm easily supports you while my right hand roams your body. My hand strokes one thigh, than transitions to the other, never breaking contact with your skin, coming tantalizingly close to your mound but not quite touching it. My hand glides up over your hips; my touch is strong and firm, yet gentle. As my hands move up over your stomach to your chest, your dress follows. As my hand inches higher more of you becomes exposed, your heart is racing, fueled by passion and lust. It was only this morning you got off a plane looking for adventure, something, anything, anything other than more of the same old existence. Now you find yourself laid out in the back of a double-decker bus while a virtual stranger undresses you as you ride through the heart of New York City. Your modesty is guarded by a thin triangle of satin and a simple yellow cotton bra, anyone looking out their window would see your nearly nude figure pass by. My hand finds your breasts, I stroke them, knead them, caress them, I find a nipple and roll it between my fingers; the charge from your nipples makes your swollen clit ache. Hours of kissing and caressing, touching, and holding, with even the most innocent laugh and smile laced with sexual innuendo. My hands have roamed your body, but I have yet to touch your Venus. My fingers have been close as they stroked your thigh, as they glided across your stomach, but they have never touched your mound. As I roll your other nipple between my fingers another charge slams into your swollen clit. You are so wet your thong is nearly transparent. Right now you need to cum more then you need the air you breathe. You get up and sit on my lap facing me, you grab my face, while I pull your head towards me, we kiss, we kiss with pure unabashed animal lust, this kiss is about hunger and desire. You shove my face into your tits; my hands find and undo the hooks to your bra. You slip your arms out and pull the bra off throwing it from the bus. What a sight you are, high heels, thong and a dress balled up around your neck while I suck, lick and bite your tits.

With a great clap of thunder, the sky opens and the rain pours down, within seconds we are both drenched, the others on the upper deck run below for shelter. We are alone in the middle of a city of millions. I spin you around, I pull you into me with one arm while my other hand reaches between your thighs. As the summer rain pours down on us, my fingers quickly find your bulbous clit. My touch sends shockwaves through your body, my fingers part your slit and draw your juices up. I squeeze your clit between my fingers, it is not long before you start to cum. I feel your abdomen muscles start to quiver, which quickly becomes a spasm. Orgasms begin to roll through your body one doesn’t end, before the next begins. Soon your body is being racked by orgasms. You grab the rail with one hand and seat back with the other as you let out an absolutely primal orgasmic scream. You collapse back into my arms exhausted; I pull your little sundress back down. The tour is back in Time Square, it’s still pouring, your dress has become so sheer your breast are clearly visible, not just the nipple and areola, but the dress clings to your heavy tits putting your full breast on display. You ask me for your bra, I tell you that you tossed it off the bus somewhere on Seventh Avenue. You smack my arm and inform me that you loved that bra and I now owe you a new one. I look at you smiling, asking “how is this my fault?” You look back at me as you say, “I was naked, and still nearly am, in the middle of Times Square; "clearly" this was your fault!” I pull you close, kissing you tenderly; I say “well if I MUST take you lingerie shopping” with a wicked smile on my face.

We exit the bus, and the rain starts to let up and the sun comes out. Crossing the street we get caught on an island as the light turns red. While rain still falls the clouds part slightly and sun light’s up Times Square. Your thin wet dress is pulled to your skin; it is sucked so tight that it clings to the underside of your breasts making it look like it is painted on. It is now mercilessly sheer; you start to try and pull the dress away from your body or cover your tits. I sternly say NO! You stop but shoot me a WTF look. I tell you that you look stunning, that you are amazingly hot as you stand there on your spiked high heels with slicked back hair in a see-through dress while your heavy tits sway with each breath. I tell you to “own” the moment, be fearless, don’t run across the street, don’t even walk, but Strut. You put your hands by your side, but you look unsure. I remind you that you came to New York for an adventure and Mother Nature has just given you one. She rained on you making the dress see through and then parted the clouds so the sun could shine like a spotlight on you. You want an adventure? Then – STRUT – Strut across Broadway on a pair of heels wearing a see-through dress in the bright sunlight. You start to find your courage, some guy driving by yells how hot you are. I say come on beautiful, own this moment. You raise your head, your shoulders are back, you are ready to show this dress as if Broadway was a catwalk in Milan and you are a supermodel. I tell you to spread your legs just a little so each leg is fully silhouetted; now even the most casual onlooker can see the dress is completely sheer. This is Times Square on a warm Friday afternoon, even in the rain there are many, many onlookers. But we stand alone on this traffic island, easily seen by everyone. Honestly, you stand alone, because no one is looking at me. The light changes, you feel a thousand eyes cast upon you. I lag back so I can watch. As you pass the cars stopped at the light, I see the men’s eyes as they realize the vision passing before them. Their eyes quickly change from surprise as they process what they see, to lust and desire. Some pull out their cellphone to capture a picture of you as you strut across the street. I am incredibly turned on by watching you, but I am also so proud of you for finding the inner strength to do it.

You reach the curb and turn looking for me, I was so awed by watching your beauty I had forgotten to walk, I had to run to get across the street to catch up. Now the rain as nearly stopped, and the streets starts to fill. This means two things happen, with more people around it is harder to see you from afar, so fewer people will see you. However, the people are now much closer, you can see their eyes. What surprises you more than anything is how many people do not even notice a naked, or at least nearly naked, woman walking past them. I explain these are New Yorkers; it’s kind of difficult to get their attention.

This is not to say that no one notices, because many do and you can see their eyes roam your body the same way my hands had done earlier. You see desire in the eyes of the men and many of the women. Between the chill of the rain and the excitement of displaying yourself, your nipples stand erect begging people to notice your nearly bare breasts. Once you see how people are reacting to you, you just grab my arm and we walk the couple of blocks to the hotel, your nearly nude frame completely on display each step of the way.

When you told me that you were staying at the Millennium I called the Concierge and arranged for us to use one of my firm’s corporate suites. If you would have told me your name, I could have had the staff move your belongings while we were on our tour. However, since I didn’t even know your room number you had to talk to the Concierge yourself. From the moment we entered the lobby, every eye has been turned on you. You have me stand back to ensure that there is no chance that I might hear your name. As I watch, I am held captive by your beauty and allure. Here you are, standing in a sheer dress, in the middle of the lobby, of a busy New York City hotel, telling the staff your name and room number asking the to move your belongings into the suite of a man you have only known a few hours. The Concierge hands me the keys to what is now our suite, he nods and smiles broadly; I thank him, to which he replied no sir – THANK You.

As we head to our room; we are alone in the elevator. As soon as the door closes, I have you pinned against the wall, my hands are all over you, my lips alternate between your lips and your breast. I suck on your tits right through your dress. Curse the express elevator; we have hit the 50th floor far too quickly. We get off the elevator and head to our suite.

I lift you up and you lock your legs around my waist, as I carry you through the hall we kiss, grope and fondle our way. I press you against the door; with your legs wrapped around my waist you struggle to pull the room key from my shirt pocket. I kiss your lips and your neck, I grab your breasts, these are not the gentle touches from earlier, these are the hands of a man full of lust, of a man full of desire, these are the clutches of raw sex and passion. You managed to open the door, we nearly fall inside, I struggle to keep our balance as I walk into the suite. I sit you on the bed. In a display of raw aggression and passion you grab my shirt and literally rip it open, the buttons fly across the room. You start kissing me from my stomach to my chest. You find my lips, hungrily biting them. Your hunger, lust and desire are just as strong as mine. Quickly I remove your dress; I grab your thong with both hands and literally rip it from your body. As I kick my shoes off, you undo my belt and pants. Then you grabbed the waistband of my pants and underwear together yanking them to the floor. My manhood springs out, immediately you take it in your mouth, your tongue caresses its underside, while you suck on it with such force one would think your life was dependent on it. You move your head back and forth; your hand works my shaft.

I warn you that I will not be able to stand much of this; because for several hours now, since the moment I first saw you in the Café, all I have wanted to do is slide deep inside you. All I have been doing is imagining what it will be like to feel your legs around my waist as I feel the soft walls of your pussy engulf my shaft. Hour after hour you tantalized me, intrigued me, your body has tormented me. It has been hours of foreplay, an afternoon of desire and want. As you continue to suck my manhood, working with urgency, you feel my body tense, you feel my sack tighten as you cup and caress my balls. You stopped only long enough to say “Cum for me baby! Please.” The skill of your hands and mouth makes my resistance futile, soon I release a torrent of cum. It streams forth from my cock, you are swallowing all you can, but you gag, just a bit, some even spills from your lips.

You look up at me, the look in your eyes is clearly one of passion and desire but also you look like you want my approval for what you have done, you seem to want to know you have pleased me. I lift you up and kiss you; I have never kissed a woman who still had some of my juice in her mouth. You have driven me to a place I have never been before; you have brought out primal urges that I’m unfamiliar with. I am more alive with you at this moment, with our lips locked together than I have ever been in my life.

At that moment I hear a knock on the door frame. As I look up I see a bellhop with a cart and your bags. The door is already open. The Bellhop says, “sorry to startle you both, but the door was already open.” In our haste we must not have closed the door when we entered the room. We looked at each other, tilted our heads and giggled wondering how many people may have seen us. I welcome the man in, you look for something to cover yourself with, there really is nothing. You see my shirt and start to pick it up. I tell you to stop, I tell you to stay naked, you comply, but you are not sure why. I tell you to grab my pants and toss them to me. You respond by asking, “why, so you can put YOUR pants on?” I laugh and say “no, so that I can tip the poor man”. As I open my wallet you show the man where to drop your bags, the whole time we are both naked.

This unexpected moment of exhibitionism is bringing my soft cock back to life. After his tip the Bellhop leaves, we look at each other in disbelief and we start to laugh. I take you into my arms and we start to kiss, the visit from our voyeur has turned us both on even more. We fall back on the bed and crawl into a position that allows us to 69. The smell of your sex fills my senses. Your juices flow down your thighs, I press my tongue between your lips, they separate and slip by each side as I lick you from bottom to top. I can taste your nectar; these long hours have had the same effect on you as they have had on me. My tongue finds your swollen clit, I suck it between my lips. My lips hold your clit firmly in my mouth as my tongue starts to vibrate against it. I slip one finger inside you, then a second, soon I have three fingers sliding in and out of you. I can feel your muscles begin to contract, I can see them start to spasm. Your orgasm begins to grow, you start to breathe heavy, stronger and stronger it becomes till finally you reach a screaming climax. Your juice flows down my face, your sex is the most wonderful thing I’ve ever tasted. I start to devour you; you buck on my face trying to ram my tongue deeper. You climax again and again, you give in to total abandon. There is no shame, just passion and lust, you allow yourself to be taken by your wanton desires.

You rise from my face and straddle me. Your pussy slides over me like a sheath drawing in its sword. As I slip inside you, your muscles contract around me. With each rise and fall it feels like paradise. You begin to ride me harder and faster you move your hands between your legs and begin to play with yourself. Your body sways, your tits just out of reach, your fully on display for me. I see your hands playing with yourself, I watch you bring yourself to another orgasm, you look into my eyes, I see a craven desire, you are enjoying displaying your sex for me, you are enjoying masturbating for me. You ride my cock; I see your eyes roll back as you bring yourself to yet another orgasm. They begin to come more rapidly each time I feel the muscles inside you pulse and spasm. You cannot hold yourself up anymore, you are nearly exhausted from so many orgasms in such rapid succession.

You collapse on to me. I roll you over, now it is my turn. With each stroke I go deeper, with each stroke you can feel me stretch your insides, with each stroke you slide over my manhood. I grab your hips moving you back and forth, you can feel me actually lifting you off my cock slamming you back down on it. You are lying on your back your high-heeled legs over my shoulders. The room is full of the smell and sounds of passion and lust. I am standing at the side of the bed now, the only thing touching the bed are your shoulders. I pierce you repeatedly, you feel my orgasm start to build. You want us to cum together, you start to play with yourself again. You feverishly work your clit as we fuck faster. We find our rhythm, faster and faster, deeper and harder, harder and faster -deeper-harder- faster. With your hands vigorously working on your clit, you start to cum again. I feel you start to spasm and that’s all I can take, we cum together, primal sexual sounds ring out in the room, my orgasm seems to last forever, finally with one less grunt I just simply collapse on top of you.

You spin us around so that you are nestled on my chest. You gently rock your body milking the last of the lust from my cock, I brush the hair from the side of your face as I gently, tenderly, but with every ounce of passion we had when we first came into this room, kiss you. We rest like this for a while finally my manhood slips from inside you. My firm tender hands roam from your thighs up your body along your back. I run my fingers through your hair. Our love making lasted more than an hour, we are both hot, sweaty and sticky from each other’s juices, we think it’s time for a shower and head to the bathroom.

The shower is polished marble, with multiple shower heads coming out of each wall, as well as the ceiling. I set it so the water pours down on us from the full length of the ceiling, like a warm summer rain. Our soapy hands wander over each other’s body; everything is slower, more tender. I lean against the wall and you lean into me, I slowly wash your hair. My fingers massage your scalp, they work their way through your raven locks. I take forever to wash your hair, it’s all just an excuse for me to run my fingers slowly through your curls. We have been under the shower for a half hour or more, we have washed each other repeatedly, I bent down on one knee and lifted your foot up so I could wash it. Seemed like a great idea until you became ticklish, but it was great to kiss you as you giggled. We get out of the shower and dry off, we put on a couple of large oversized terrycloth robes.

We are both starving; I ask where in the city you would like to have dinner. I start to list food types and restaurant names, you stop me. Walking up to me you put your arms around my neck and rest your head on my chest and say, “I don’t want to go anywhere, I just want to stay right here with you”. I call room service, we have them bring us some steaks for dinner, and a bottle of wine.

While waiting I sit on the couch while you lay next to me, resting your head in my lap. The TV is on but neither of us pay it any mind, we are in our own little existence. I find myself stroking your hair yet again; it seems I just can’t help myself. The mood in the room is so different from before. If our passion before was coming from some primal code in our DNA put there by some Ice Age ancestor, this passion is coming from our soul, coming from whatever makes us tender. You curl up in my lap and we just start to make out, that’s it, just make out as if we were kids. It seems like I kiss you a thousand times, a hundred different ways. Before our kisses were filled with hunger, like we were looking for something to fill us. Now our kisses are filled with contentment, as if we had satisfied the hunger. As I kiss you my hands caress you, I stroke your neck and touch your face. My touch is soft and gentle. Before our sex was so aggressive it was nearly violent, now my fingers touch you so softly, almost like you have become fragile. We stay like this for nearly an hour waiting on room service.

During dinner we make small talk, you ask me how I just happen to have a suite waiting for me on a Friday night in New York City. I explain that I’m an IT manager for a brokerage firm here in the city. The firm keeps 5 rooms on retainer here, whether it is brokers or analyst tracking some global trend, or my team keeping the network and computer systems up; people often find themselves in the city very late into the evening and rather than commute and hour or more back home we just stay here. Each of us keeps a bag with the Bellmen for when we unexpectedly use one of the rooms.

We finish our dinner and I fill the oversized Jacuzzi, more like a hot tub really. The tub sits in the corner of the room next to the floor to ceiling windows. As I ready the tub you bring over the wine and glasses. We slip off our robes, and glide into the tub. You sit across from me, resting your feet in my lap. You find yourself sitting naked, in a hot tub, drinking wine, receiving a foot rub, next to floor to ceiling windows looking out over Times Square and the entire Manhattan skyline. We stay this way for a while; my fingers manipulate your sore aching feet; my thumbs find the pressure points. You are almost as vocal from the foot massage as you were from our love making.

Soon your other foot finds a way to keep itself entertained, and get my attention, by rubbing my dick. With little trouble you have me fully erect. Unexpectedly you pull your legs under you and start to crawl towards me. I think you are coming to cuddle up next to me. I was wrong. As you get close you go under water and take me in your mouth. I slide up on the edge of the tub, resting my back against the window. You take me in your mouth, your tongue caresses me, your mouth sucks hard on me. One hand cups my balls, while the other works my shaft.

You remove your mouth from me and suck your own finger; the look in your eyes is wanton lust, with an almost evil grin. My eyes widen with trepidation, you mouth to me; “trust me”, my pulse quickens, “trust” is not what I’m feeling at the moment. You take me back in your mouth and distract me from my concerns. A few minutes pass before I feel an unfamiliar pressure, I tense and recoil just a little. You look up at me and say; “relax baby, just trust me”. I try to relax; I eventually give way to your probing finger. You find and begin to rub my prostate. Your fingers and mouth still work my cock, within a few moments I cum so hard I nearly blackout. I feel you withdraw your finger from me. I look down and see you lick your lips; you are smiling, you simply say, “You’re Welcome” and giggle. With what little cognitive function I can muster I ask; “Proud of Yourself”? To which you reply, “Yes – I – am”, and laugh just a little. I pull you up from your knees and kiss your giggling lips. We sit there naked, lying against the window as I recover.

Once I have regained myself, I lay you on the marble along the tub, Manhattan on one side of you, my lips on the other. I begin by kissing the sole’s of your feet, I nibble, I lick, I suck, as my lips crawl up your skin, I taste every inch of you. I spin you so your back is on the window and I am on my knees in front of you. My face descends between your thighs, you lock your ankles behind my neck. My mouth finds one of the lips of your venus, I draw it in, my tongue dances with it. I pull your other lip in, my tongue play’s with this one as well. You gasp when my lips suck your clit into my mouth. My blue eyes look up at you with immoral intent. You watch as I slowly coat my index finger with saliva. I feel you squirm just a little, I hold you firmly and say, “Trust me baby”.

I put my head back down, my lips and tongue find your clit. I place my thumb inside you, your hips press down. My index finger presses against your rose bud, your entrance is slick with your juices and my saliva. I press my finger deeper into you, past one knuckle and then the second. Soon both fingers are deep inside you, I can feel them touch each other through the thin membrane. You begin to thrust yourself down on to my hand, trying to force my fingers in even deeper. Our movements become synchronized as my hand penetrates both your holes, while my lips and tongue consume your clit. I look up, I can see your eyes have rolled back into your head; your stomach starts to quiver. Your orgasm is building, you can feel the tension, and then your body explodes with release; your muscles begin to contract and spasm. As your quakes subside, I lift you back into the tub, where you curl up on my chest until you recover. Eventually we leave the tub, dry off and slip into bed. I am behind you, with my arms wrapped around you, your arms are crossed over mine holding me tight. You press back against me, more than just my arms are wrapped around you, it’s like you are cloaked by my body, as if it were a shield from the outside world. I lean down and kiss your neck; this is how we fall asleep.

You wake up to the smell of coffee. You look and see me standing at the end of the bed, I have a tray of coffees in one hand and what looks to be a bag of groceries in the other. You ask with a grin “Are we expecting company”? I start to explain, I just wanted to surprise you with a simple breakfast of coffee and bagels with cream cheese. But once I got there, I realized I didn’t know what kind of bagel you like, so I got a couple, and maybe you don’t like cream cheese so I got some other spreads, then I thought maybe you don’t like bagels at all! So I got muffins, maybe you don’t do bread, so I bought fruit. You start to laugh and smile, you laugh because I sound absolutely ridiculous trying to explain how a bagel turned into a bag of groceries, but you smile because you realize the only thing the man standing before you thought about all morning, is how he can make you happy.

-->