Wrong

I often suspect, even accuse, River of not thinking about sex. Even when we’re having it.

Turns out I’m wrong.

We’re in bed last night, our bodies touching in interesting ways. I always like to be touching.

“What are you doing?” “Thinking.” “Can you do something else at the same time?” “I can get my back rubbed.”

She rolls over. I oil up her back and give her a long deep rub, top to bottom, side to side, up her neck. I really love rubbing her back, putting all the attention into it that I can. I get the occasional “mmm” which from River is high praise.

But I’m not entirely altruistic. I’m sitting behind her, my cock resting on her ass, and when I lean forward I get a nice sensation from grinding against her. Just a bit. Don’t want to be too obvious. Not yet.

River has been having a good think while I do her back. It’s hard for me to stop, but I think we’re getting to the next stage. But we haven’t talked about strings. “Now what?” “I’m putty in your hands.” Ok then.

My cock is halfway hard. It’s soon fully erect and as ready as I am. River tilts her ass up and gives her sexy wiggle while my cock inches into her welcoming pussy. And we fuck.

“Are you thinking?” “Yes.” “About what?” “Fucking.”

Sometimes it’s good to be wrong.

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