I can’t believe I wrote this. Once again I’d like to stop, partly because blogging and attempting to be social is a big time-suck in my overwhelming and chronically fatigued life, and partly because blog-land seems to contribute to my depression. I have a better feel for addicts who keep doing things that are bad for them.
I’m sitting on our porch swing on a nice day. The kids are at friends’ houses. River is off being a nursing student. I’m alone at home. At some point I realize the nicest thing about today: no lawnmowers or other gratuitous noise. It makes the day noticeably nicer. A truly beautiful day. I don’t get why so many people have to mow their little lawns with stinky noisy fossil fuels instead of using a quite, eco- and neighbor-friendly push mower. Especially on a nice day. Spray-painting over the Mona Lisa is what they’re doing.
River is back. She walks up to the porch, smiling. “I’m home!” I smile back. “The kids are gone and I’m home alone.” “What should we do with ourselves?” “Have a quickie.” Did the person walking by hear that? I hope so. I’m not sure River’s taking me seriously, but at least there wasn’t a dismissive laugh. “I have to go pee and change out of these scrubs.” She is taking me seriously. It is a nice day.
I unload the dishwasher. When she comes around she’s still got the scrubs on. Hmm. “Did you go pee?” “I just need to change out of these.” I wonder why she hasn’t yet. Second thoughts? No, she’s never thinking what I think she’s thinking.
I load the dishwasher while she goes off and does something. I’m patient. We’ve got at least an hour before any kids come home. Enough time for a couple quickies.
She comes up behind me. Is she going to be all sexy about it? She is. I feel her hands on me. I reach back, expecting to feel the smooth warm skin of her hips. But I feel scrubs. Huh. “Were you expecting me to be naked?” “Actually, yes.” “Now I have to pee. And get out of these.” She peels her top off while she heads to the bathroom.
She opens the bathroom door and comes out. I’m standing there. Naked. “Well hello.” She turns into the bedroom and strips, revealing the enticing curves of her ass. The enticing curves of her. “Did you close the front door, or is it still wide open?” “I closed it.” She bends over, her hands on the bed, her legs slightly apart. “Do you have a plan?” “No, but it looks like you do.” I move into place behind her. I wish I were hard. But I have to get hard. Rubbing against her ass has been doing it lately, but she’s in position for a replay of what we did a week or so ago. I drop to my knees. We make silly grins at each other between her legs. The lips of her snatch beg to be parted. I spread them. They stay parted, their gaping edges inviting me to explore the territory between them.
“I’m always worried I’m going to have toilet paper shards.” “I’m worried I’m going to have leftover Chinese food in my mouth.” I stretch my tongue out and probe. Traverse the expanse of pink between her frilly opening and her clit. The tangy taste of her pussy excites me. My cock hardens quickly as I stroke it, while my tongue fucks her and reaches for her clit. “My part likes this. This sure seems like a strange thing to like.” Even stranger than liking fucking. “Yes, it does.”
When I’m ready I stand behind her. River’s hand guides my cock into her. I push. And we fuck.