Is the flu an STD? We’re about to find out.
Three hours later. Well, we tried. River was gone for hours, ostensibly at the physical therapist’s. Hopefully they were working on kegels. She’d given me quite a warmup in the bathroom earlier today, me sitting on the heated floor, her standing over me and doing a reverse striptease while my cock wanted to get hard and she told me she had plans for later.
But how much later? Not this evening when we’re both worn out, I hope.
She comes home. Can I jump her? If I want. I want. I think.
In the bathroom again. Grinding against her ass, cradled in my favorite comfy jeans. Watching ourselves in the mirror. Unbuttoning her comfy jeans. Unzipping. Off. Then mine. My cock hardening. My hands running over her body. Her breasts, behind their padded bra. Her sides. Her stomach. Into her panties. They’re off. My boxer briefs are off. Watching. Feeling. Pressing. Breathing.
River leans into the mirror, looking hot, looking sweet, her ass thrust back seductively, my fingers playing in the juice of her slit. But it’s not happening. I’m nowhere near hard enough for the standing rear-entry stick-in.
“Should we try later?” “I don’t know.” I feel unvirile. But I can’t let it get to me. “You can throw me on the bed.” “Let’s try it.”
My finger slips into her wetness. She talks about viruses. That’s usually a good combination, but if we can fuck at all this afternoon it’s going to be a limp dick fuck.
And so it is. It’s a bit silly trying to squeeze my mostly limp dick in and out of her as she spreads her legs wide in her trademark vee, but at least we’re trying. My cock perks up a little bit, but not much. Not enough to get the true feeling of fuck. At least we’ve had a nice time together. I close her lips over her wetly gaping pussy. We plan to resume in the evening.
River says flu isn’t an STD because it’s all about oropharynx, not vagina. Maybe via blowjob then.