My butt itches

“My butt itches.” “Probably those new panties you’re wearing.” “I’m not wearing any.” I slide my hand casually down her summer dress. Nothing but nice sooth ass under that thin blue fabric. My cock gets heavier as I run my hand over her. “Are you feeling it yet?” By “it”, I mean her post-period hornies. She wasn’t feeling it last night, much to my dismay. “Not yet. Maybe later.” “Well you can feel this then.” I put her hand on my shorts. She gives my arousal a good investigation. “Nice.” All I can think about is pulling her dress up and banging right there in the living room. I pull it up over her ass and she squeals “Noooooo!”

And she’s got to go do some errand or something. We’ve got company coming over at noon, in a few hours. I wonder how much “later” it will be. At least I can think about River out there in public in just the lightweight dress with no bra or panties. I hope her butt doesn’t itch.

Dot dot dot

I’ve got a feeling that’s going to be the entire post. But River’s back quickly, almost before I’m done writing. “I like gardener Reed.” I’d gotten up early to make sure my little planties don’t starve from thirst. “I look like a wild man who lives in the weeds.” “I don’t care what you look like. Just what you smell like.”

And somehow River is locking the front door and we’re in the bedroom and she’s pulling her dress up for me and bending over with her hands down on the bed. “I thought you might like the view.” “I never realized our house has such a nice view.” She spreads her legs a bit as I drop my shorts — I, too, am going commando — and slip one hand under her ass for her pussy and put the other on my stiffening cock to help it along. When we’re ready I try to get her lips spread and push into her. No go. And even River is having problems spreading her wings and lining us up for the initial stick-in. It just won’t go. Is her pussy that tight? “It’s like there’s a piece of Saran wrap between us.” Finally we get it together and my cock inches into her pussy and I feel her ass pushing back against me. And we fuck.

We get a nice vigorous start. River always likes that. I’m grabbing her hips and we’ve got that serious banging action going. But even though it’s great, I don’t want to keep it up. I want to last. “I could come really fast.” “Can you tell I’ve been kegeling?” “Give me a squeeze.” “I have been.”

I slow down and grind into River, left, right, center, up, down. Savoring the deliciousness spreading into me from her cunt. I run my fingers over the skin on her back, down her sides, along the flair of her hips. “You’re probably wondering when I’m going to get back to the vigorous bang.” But she’s never thinking what I think she’s thinking. “I’m enjoying having my curves appreciated.” “You are a good view. And you’ve got my favorite pussy.” Slow and sensual, all the way out, all the way in, feeling everything from her frilly entrance to her cervix.

I’m speeding up. Feeling her toned legs against mine. Putting a hand on her shoulder for leverage, pulling her back against me. Her pussy feels crazy good, torturously tight and texturous squeezing my desperately thrusting cock. This is going to be some orgasm. Can I stay standing? I don’t care. I’ll just grab River to keep myself from falling when my knees buckle. Good thing she’s bent over, hands braced on the bed, taking it for all she’s worth.

I try to hold off because it’s too good to end. I look through the window wondering if anybody’s watching, nobody, too bad, I look down at River, she knows what’s about to happen, she knows she has my favorite pussy, then I’m leaning on her for balance and groaning and pushing and unloading six days worth into her as she grinds back against me and wiggles her ass.

Did anybody hear us? I always hope so. That’s the kind of thing I’d like to hear when I’m out for a walk.

We relax, then disconnect and wipe up. River will probably be wearing panties the rest of the day. She’s not the kind of girl who enjoys having things drip down her leg. Especially not with company coming over.

“You know the most obvious sign of doing kegels was?” “What?” “I never felt any air in there at any time.”

Sweet little fuck, aka meat dildo

River has to leave tomorrow morning. She doesn’t usually leave without a little parting gift. But she’s had a hectic day and she’s totally frazzled. When I’m like that a nice fuck is just what I need. But she’s the complete opposite. It would just be piling on to her non-stop day.

She surprises me by coming over to snuggle on me in bed. “I was hoping you’d do that.” “You must have been hoping pretty loud.” But how far will it go? Is she just snuggling on me because she thinks I expect something, and that I won’t like it if she leaves for a few days without the parting gift? It would be ok. I know she’s frazzled, and I don’t want to make it worse.

“You probably just want to sleep. And I’m stinky.” “Nice come on. Does that work with most girls?” “Most girls don’t just want to sleep.” “That’s what you think.”

Then she pulls out the magic wand. “There’s time for a quickie.” Now the pressure is on. River likes to be fucked in the orgasm. But can I get a good stiffie before she orgasms? Damn ED.

She’s buzzing herself. I’m fingering myself, and touching her body for inspiration. A progress report: “I’m not there yet.” Maybe she’ll have to wait for her second orgasm. “Take your time. I can hold off. And make it even better.” “You don’t hold off very often.” “Usually it takes so long I just have to go with it when it happens.” That’s how it is for me on the antidepressant. I don’t like it.

The thought of River holding off, controlling her orgasm to make it even better, turns me on. I slip a finger into her for her g-spot. My cock stiffens nicely. “I’m ready.” It can be hard to tell when she’s coming, but when she switches the wand off it’s a sure sign. My finger slips out. My cock slips in. And we fuck.

River shudders and moans beneath me as I aim for her g-spot and pound her. It’s going to be quickie for sure because despite the antidepressant I can feel it already. It’s nice how her g-spot is so stimulating for both of us.

But it’s not a normal orgasm for me. The Citalopram is factoring in. It’s achingly slow. It’s like it doesn’t want to come. And even when it does it’s like slow motion, almost painful in a nice super-sensitive way, like I’m drained from coming four times already and there’s nothing left to squeeze out. But I work it for all it’s worth, and River’s enjoyment is infectious.

“That shall be known as the Sweet Little Fuck. I think it will help me sleep.” Interesting. For me it was more like being a meat dildo. But I don’t mind. She should use me like that more often.

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.

Super-virgin

I always seem to get carried away when I write these things.  It’s crossed my mind that writing is the reason I’m so horny all the time.  Well part of the reason.  It doesn’t help that I live with a woman whose ass looks like the girls I jacked off to in high school even though we’re both rather older than that now.  River being so hot has nothing to do with why we fell in love or even why I was attracted to her but it sure is a nice bonus.

“I’ve gotten mixed signals. Earlier you said you were horny. But just now you told Brook that you were sleepy. I’m not sure what it adds up to.” “It adds up to give me the magic wand and get in position.” That was unexpected.  Maybe her post-period hornies. “No warmup?” “This is my warmup.” “I mean for me.” Thanks to my iatrogrenic ED it doesn’t just pop up on its own any more. If you don’t know that word it means medical badness caused by a doctor. A useful word to know even if it doesn’t help beyond making me feel less alone. My ED was caused by a doctor giving me a routine (and way overpriced) vasectomy.

It’s dark. I feel for River on the bed. I’m not feeling what I’m expecting. Oh. She’s in low doggy position, with her butt sticking out and the wand humming away at her clit beneath her. She’s on a creative tip. I hope I can get hard enough fast enough because I don’t want to miss this.

I put one hand on my cock and the other on her. I want to stay out of her way, but I need to feel her parts for incentive. My fingers keep getting bumped by the wand as my hand roams around the area feeling this and stroking that but eventually I coax her lips apart so I can feel my favorite pussy. Which of course helps get me hard.

But you know what really gets me hard this time? Every time a finger or thumb brushes across her sweetly textured asshole I get harder. It’s been a long time since since she’s taken it up her ass (eloquent as fuck, I know) but I’ve been thinking about it. Not tonight though. Even though she mentioned that sex has been hurting and maybe that’s a solution.

It sounds like she’s about to get herself off. Fortunately I’ve got a nice stiff rod to work with by now. Thanks in part to her asshole. Why should that be suck a turn on? She switches the vibe off and gasps and now is the time to slip my cock deep into that pussy I’ve been feeling.

I’m on target but it’s just not going very far in. Too much resistance somewhere. I move in and out a bit trying to spread the wet but it’s not as satisfying as the deep powerful stick-in I want. I push so hard it’s got to hurt. But she says that part never hurts.

Finally she reaches down and clears the way for me and our bang begins in earnest. But after some vigorous thrusts I feel like I could pop at any moment so I slow down, rub her back, grab her waist, admire the view, looking just like I imagined in high school.

She puts her hand back in place for her second one. I maneuver into position to get the most sensation as her hand rubs across my parts, too. “Mmm, I like how that feels.” I think I like it a little too much. I pull way back and just move the head of my cock in and out of her entrance but it feels too good. She puts the wand back and it buzzes my cock through her pussy and that’s it, it’s going to be all over, nothing I can do, so I just fuck her hard as she moans. She does like a good hard bang. “Doesn’t every girl?” she asks.  And she comes, and I come, and it’s tremendous, believe me.  I can’t believe I said that.

I stay hard a lot longer than I expect and the after-fuck is almost as good as the fuck. Except that’s comparing apples to oranges. Or maybe Golden Delicious to Pink Ladies.  How you like them apples.

Finally River rolls over and I lay on top for a hug and a kiss. I sit up and give her bush a post-coital scratch. That’s something she said long ago, maybe our second or third time: “There’s nothing like a good post-coital scratch.”

“I wish I could have gotten in deeper faster.” “I thought it was good.” Yes, it was, in a strange way. Like fucking a super-virgin. Push as hard as I can and still get nowhere. “My wings were in the way as usual.”  “I’m just glad I got that hard that fast.  You didn’t give me much time.”  “There’s always the second one.  You know I can always do more.”  Some people have all the luck.  At least I’m lucky enough to have River.

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.”

Tomorrow morning

“Tomorrow morning.” That was a change of subject. Unless you consider my body language to have started the conversation, which it may have. Nice full-length side-by-side snuggles, me sneaking under River’s leg. Or was that River’s leg sneaking over me? More like a duet than a conversation.

Tomorrow morning. You know what I’m talking about. And so does River. “Ok.”

I make her coffee in the morning and come back to bed. She gets up to pee. While she’s gone I work on getting hard. Any wood I may have had this morning is gone. Making coffee will do that to a guy. But I should be able to get something going. Even though I don’t like it that ever since my vasectomy I have to get hard instead of just being hard. You’ve heard that before, and you’ll hear it again. Sorry. See? I believe in apologies. Unlike the guy who left me this way.

And yes, I get hard. Not as hard as I used to be, but hard enough to fuck, for sure. Even though it’s not hard enough to feel quite right. Not hard enough for a decisive stick-in. But I’ve fucked with worse.  It usually perks up once we get going.

River comes back. I pull the covers aside. Show her what I’ve got. “Well!” Our conversations are short sometimes, huh? Good thing we have body language. I love seeing her poised over me. The small breasts, the girly triangle of brownish bush, her sweet face. I’m still holding my cock upright as she lines up and descends onto it. Sometimes she’ll go all the way down in one go, but this time she eases on, some up and down, some in and out, working the juices around until she gets full penetration. And we fuck.

It’s always a treat when she fucks me. She sits up and I watch my cock appearing and disappearing in the gap between her legs. Feel the tips of her nipples rubbing over my palms. Grab her, push her hips back, grind her onto me. She leans forward, I wrap my arms around her, we hug as she rolls her hips, working her cunt up and down my cock. Fucking me.

“Turn around.” I’m thinking reverse cowgirl. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her ass bobbing up and down with my cock under it. She starts to turn, keeping me inside.  “No. Partway. What did we used to call that?” Too many things have been a while. I’m getting rusty. But I make my brain do the math. “One thirty five.” She spins 135 degrees to her right, one leg coming to rest between mine. It’s just like I remember. A powerful fuck.  Physically.  Visually.  I’m sure I’ve used this expression before: my cock arcing into her. A strong thick arc. One hand on her ass. Her leg brushing my balls on the down stroke. My balls liking that.

You know how this ends as surely as I do. No wait, you don’t. And neither do I. Will I finish, or won’t I? Even though I’m  rather enjoying the fuck, especially with all the River-on-top action (we did eventually move into reverse cowgirl), I don’t feel that distant glow of impending orgasm on the horizon. But I do feel a bit bad for River doing all the work up there, so we flip up and I slide my cock into her from behind for doggy , with all its accompanying queefage. No sooner does River squeeze some air out when I hear more go in. That just mean we’re doing something right.  Or maybe we need more practice?  I’m always up for more practice.

Two things are notable about our doggy session. First, we usually do doggy with River’s legs together and mine on the outside, but this time River’s legs are spread. Second, I keep leaning on her shoulders, hoping she’ll drop her head down to the bed and leave her ass sticking up. I don’t want to just ask her to do it.  I don’t want her to think I’m trying to set her up like a porno or something.

Eventually I feel the glow, in no small part because River sounds like she’s enjoying it. She’s said she can’t fake that, even though I’ve said many times that if she wants to make me come and get it over with all she has to do is fake an orgasm. But it’s one of those glows where I have to chase after it a bit and take what I can get, not one where I can just ride the edge of orgasm until the inevitable happens. Not so much a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow as a few small coins. But I take it, and quietly unload into her (“unload”, that’s funny, huh?).

When I finally pull out and let it dangle, River has some unloading of her own to do. A big sharp queef. I’m surprised my face isn’t splattered with my own jizz. Maybe I’ll ask for it next time. That’s something you don’t see every day in pornos.  I think.

Well somebody told me

That song is stuck in my head all night. “Well somebody told me, that you had a boyfriend, who looked like a girlfriend . . .” Don’t know it? Sure you do.  I’m just not singing it very well. Here’s what I’m talking about.

Why is it in my head? I’ll get to that. First things first.

I’m coming to bed. I haven’t showered for a while. There was supposed to be hot water left for me this evening but there isn’t any. Not even warm. And I don’t smell particularly good. I can smell myself, which means I probably smell ten times worse to other people. This might snuff the carefully laid plans I told you about last time. I can’t believe this is happening. The timing is terrible.  Welcome to my life. “You’re going to have a stinky sweetie in your bed.” “I don’t mind.” Wow. The “I can’t believe it” factor just worked in my favor.  “But you could use a washcloth on your pits.” Is that all?  I can do that.

When I come to bed I’m not too bad. At least, I can’t smell myself. But that doesn’t mean anything.  I’ve had all day to get used to how I smell.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Valentine.” “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

River’s body language seems receptive. But I’ve got to check in on something. “Remember what I warned you about yesterday?” She thinks. I know she knows but I say it anyway. So she doesn’t have to.  And because saying it turns me on. “A nice Valentine’s Day fuck.” “Mmm hmm.” “I know you’ve been dreading it all day long.”  “I don’t mind.” “What would you like for a warm up?” I know what she’s going to get for a warm up if she can’t come up with something: a back rub. “Some back rub.” “That’s what I was thinking.” We’re so compatible. In most ways. The important ways.

She reaches for the oil. I straddle her and let my cock come to rest on her ass crack. We look good together.  Male and female.  Female and male.  Boy and girl.  Girl and boy.

And there it is. In my head. “Well somebody told me, that I had a girlfriend, who looks like a girlfriend . . .” I’m liking the way my girlfriend looks, me sitting behind her ass, spreading just the right amount of oil onto the vee of her back, her shoulder blades, down her sides, up her neck, onto her arms, her slender waist, around her hips, across the tan line where she got a bit too much sun in her bikini a few weeks ago . . . I could do this forever, watching the light and shadows play across her back as my fingers dimple the skin with their strokes, feeling her flesh flow under my hands, having my way with her body. Sometimes I wish she would just fall asleep while I’m doing this. Sometimes she does.

I’d love to just sit here and get hard as my balls nuzzle against her ass and pull the skin of my cock ever so slightly downwards, then slip it in and feel our connection. But it’s not happening. I can help. One hand plays more oil over her ass, kneading the right cheek, grabbing the left cheek, while the other goes to my cock, the thumb stroking up the top side with residual oil. Not too much oil. The sweet friction of River juice is all I want tonight. My cock hardens nicely as I finally allow a thumb to slip down her ass and between her legs, brushing the fur, pushing for her secret darkness.

“You have the right spot.” River wiggles back against me and I feel her lips give way as my thumb is on the verge of plunging in but lingers at her opening, circling the wetness I can feel . . . and hear. I get harder to the wet smacky sounds of her pussy, until I fit my cock to her entrance and slide forward, as deep as I can go, my balls rubbing up her legs, my body pushing against her ass. And we fuck.

She feels exquisite today. Some good River juice. Just the way I like it. Not too wet, not too dry. The built-in squeeze of this position strokes the length of my shaft nicely as I slide in and out of her, the head feeling everything from the soft wetness of her depths to the frictiony frill of her opening, and back.

I lay on top of her, my hand on her shoulder pulling us together. She’s called this “the deep position” before, and I’m going deep, staying deep, deeper, feeling the twinge of her cervix, fucking in and out of her, exquisite, our breath moaning and gasping. I lean over her, my legs spread astride her, my back arched, hips up, my cock dropping into her at a steep angle then making the sucky sounds as I barely fuck her with just the tip.

Right about the time I’ve run out of bed and put my foot on the floor for extra leverage we hear somebody tromping past the bedroom door, which is propped partway open, and into the bathroom next door. So what. River switches off her reading light and we fuck by braille. I’ve got a girlfriend, who feels like a girlfriend.

My left leg slips between her legs, then my right leg, my knees inside hers pushing her legs apart. The change in her pussy with her legs spread is incredible. Just what I needed. From the tight deep squeeze to a lush, bottomless wetness. A rain forest. An Amazon rain forest. I want more. I push my knees out, spread our legs wider. This position can be strenuous but not tonight. I push up on my hands, freeing my hips to hit every angle, my cock feeling every nuance of her, and now I feel the caress of her pussy making me want to come as I rock from side to side inside her tropical sweet spot.

But I don’t come. Yet. Too often these days I have to take whatever I can get (thanks, antidepressant). That’s why I don’t always finish lately: I don’t always like what I can get, and I’m pretty sure I can get better if I wait a day or two to finish. But this is my day to finish.  I can tell it will work out for me to hold off now; it will just make it better when I do finish.  And I will finish tonight.  The feeling is right. So I grind into her, pushing right up to the edge, River pushing back, rocking from side to side until I’ve coasted over the urgency and back down to the plateau where we can fuck some more.

Our fuck has been long and sweet and intense. I especially like how she wiggles it back into place when I slip out. “I’m close.” River is probably like it’s about time. I’m sure she knows I held off back there. I’m greedy that way. But I know it will be a good ending. “Slow.” Slow endings are crazy, creeping slowly up to an orgasm, barely moving, sometimes not moving at all when I’m so close to the edge that the head of my cock is super-sensitive and just the pressure of River’s pussy and the angle of my cock is enough to make me come, I just wait, feel it build, feel my balls tighten, feel River beneath me, then finally feel my cock lurch, feel the first spurt empty into her, flooding her, flowing around my cock, River pushing back, the second spurt has even more volume, sounding a chord in my cock, in her pussy, a deep harmony, a crescendo, overflowing with the major third, deeper, louder. Gasping. Panting. Crazy.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Well somebody told me, that I’ve got a girlfriend . . .