Written by: Matt Finish
Wearily you trudge up the driveway; home after a grueling early shift at the campaign press office. The autumnal sunlight golden shafts through the plane tree boulevard. The soothing whirr of the neighbors sprinklers souse the balmy February afternoon.
An empty house awaits; your teenage children still at school and your medico husband intrastate at a conference. Through the security screen and the heavy oak doors you dash to disable the alarm. Memories of last night’s pleasant evening float by as heady scented motes; piquant coriander and Spanish onions, sweet opulent butterscotch and heady seductive Sandalwood. Hmm, you remember lighting the sandalwood incense bombs barely masking the pungent cabbage odor of your neighbors cigarillos. Sensing those too, you decide to latch the screen door but leave the oak door ajar to promote a cleansing airflow.
Shoes in hand you luxuriate at the feel of your tired hot feet on the cool ceramic floor tiles. You pop some fasteners and shimmy as your floral print silk summer frock susurrates to the floor. You lean back against the cool plaster walls and sigh at the thrilling contact with your bare back. Wriggling you peel away your thong panties and bundled with the dress you sling them at the laundry hamper as you sashay past the walk in robe.
The tousled bed lays testimony to our early morning love-making. You draw my satin boxers to your face rubbing the cool silky fabric against your cheek until a mote of my male muskiness catches in your nostrils. Inhaling deeply to try to rebuild my form from that scent. A stiff patch scratches at your nose and you thrill to note a tear-shaped stain of my pre-cum. Delicately with just the tip of your tongue you lick at the stain trying anew to rebuild me from these clues. You shiver deliciously as you remember my hardness tenting the shorts this morning and how you led me by this handle back from the en-suite to the bed.
Sidling to the window you slowly draw the gauze curtains so that the room is more diffusely lit in the golden light of the afternoon. Easing back on to the futon, you start to caress your body with my boxers; softly slowly intimately. Gently trailing the fabric over your neck and shoulders, heaving bosom, stomach and flanks and back to your loins.
You pass the boxers back and forth between your thighs imagining you are feeling my smooth cheeks brushing by you as I move down to soothe and lick your puffy tingling pussy. Dipping, probing further you transfer some wetness to the boxers again bringing them to your face inhaling deeply to catch traces of our mingled scents.
Sighing heatedly, you put down those boxers, leaving both hands free for some sensuous self-loving. Slowly you bring both hands down from your face, over your collarbone and on to your bosom. Here they linger cupping kneading and stroking and then plucking at the rosy proud crests. Then slowly unerringly you bring those hands down across your smooth soft belly and down to the hairy juncture of your loins.
You hunker down further drawing your knees up and thighs apart offering up the exposed and puffy morsel to the room and more particularly your clever fingers.
The taxi leaves me at the corner of our boulevard. The conference was a bust, the final speaker failed to even show