A well-prepared pussy

I get back in bed in the morning. Warm myself up on my sweetie furnace. Which seems to be going full blast. She’s really putting out the heat.

River shrieks and pulls back when I put a cold hand on her boob. Again on her stomach. I have to warm it up somewhere.  I slide my hand along her leg. She puts it between them, my palm on her mons, my fingers curving down to cover her labia. That’s unusual. Unexpected. But not unwelcome. I feel quite welcome. Her legs squeeze around my hand. “Cooch.” “What?” “That’s just what it feels like this way. Cooch.” “Coochy coo.”

I don’t want to overstay my welcome between her legs. I suspect she saw that as the least evil spot I could put my cold hand. Nothing more. This can’t be a come-on. We just fucked last night. A long and creative fuck, with two new positions. One I’ll call Flip Flop, where we each had an impressive view of the the other’s butthole. The other one . . . no idea what to call it. Picture us doing spoons on our left sides, then me rolling face down and putting my right leg on her left shoulder. More silly than functional. Let me know if you can name it.

And she does feel so . . . coochy down there, with her bush against my palm and my fingers nestled among her flaps and folds. I give her nice warm cooch some admiring squeezes, slide my fingers left, right, up, down, over the flaps, through the folds, across and around her clit, pulling and squeezing her lips between my fingers.

“Your hand should be getting warm.” “Yes.” “And wet.” The edges of her lips are surprisingly moist and slippery as I slide them past each other. But I haven’t checked between them yet. I fan my fingers, push a little deeper . . . and she’s sopping. “What have you been dreaming about?” “Work.” Doesn’t seem likely. I’ve never been successful at getting her to come into the stairway with me at her work. Maybe someone else has?

Long story short, and I do mean long story, we have a tremendous fuck. River’s pussy is exquisite, sensation-al I call it, from the tickling frill of her opening to the surprise party of her cervix. But her pussy is only the icing on the cake. She’s really into it. We’re squeezing together harder than ever, rocking side to side, grinding everything we’ve got until we’ve ground each other down so far we’ve got another inch of penetration. We especially like it when I sit up and push and pull her, holding still while jacking myself off with her pussy, with her whole body. When I keep up her favorite pounding rhythm she’s liking it so much and making so much noise I can only keep it up for so long without coming.

“I don’t even want to come.” “It’s up to you.” “I feel like it would be an anticlimax, after what we’ve been doing.” “You usually have a really good one after not finishing.” Last night, that is. “There’s always next time.” I can’t believe I said that. That’s her line.  I’m always about this time.

My cock flips up and thwacks me when I pull out. I like that.

“I should tell you. I had a dream and woke up with an orgasm. Then had a few more. That was a well-prepared pussy you were fucking.”

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One thought on “A well-prepared pussy

  1. Pingback: Everlasting gobstopper | Reed and River Unplugged

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