If it’s too loud, you’re too old

River is out of town.  I get an email from her.  “I passed my test!  I might have screamed!”  And I write back: “At least something makes you scream :-).”

Because just a few nights ago, she had her first orgasm ever from pure penetrative sex.  Actually, two in a row.  She’s always needed some kind of manual or mechanical clitoral stimulation.  And there she is having her first pure penetrative orgasm, and her second, and she doesn’t make a sound.  Nothing out of the ordinary, at least.  Not in happy shock, not in crazy surprise, not even because it’s so amazing she wants the neighbors to know.  So I have no idea until we pause while I barely hold off and she says “I just came twice while we were doing it.”  Total stealth orgasms.  That’s her style.

It took some getting used to.  One partner I’d had set the bar pretty high for screaming, and gave me a taste for it.  And she inspired me to make a lot of noise myself.  But I ended up toning it down with River because I felt out of place with her being so quiet most of the time.

But I still  like it loud.

Although lately it seems like if we so much as breathe hard, Brook will be banging on our shared wall.  “We’re just breathing.”  “Well stop it!”  She didn’t do that when she was little.  She’s too old.

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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.”

Best fuck in town

“That was the best fuck in town last night.” “Yeah it was! Coming at the same time beats 99 out of 100 others right there.” That’s an exaggeration. I hope.

And I always thought the concept of “coming together” was some crappy 70s “making love” thing. Like I hate the expression “simultaneous orgasm”. I just hate it. Too long. Too many syllables. Completely clinical and unvisceral. If you have a better word let me know and I’ll start using it.

Usually I like to take turns and enjoy the hell out of both her orgasm(s) and mine. But with River the simul-thing works out really well. We can each come and enjoy the other’s come at the same time.

And she knows if she ever wants me to come in a hurry all she needs to do is fake an orgasm and and it will make me come whether I want to or not. But she says she can’t fake it.

“I’m actually glad we weren’t on the balcony last night after all. We couldn’t have done what we did out there. Brook still probably would have banged on the wall at us though.” Apparently we breathe too hard for her.

“I remember when I was her age, hearing my mom giggle and my step-dad growl. And I was partly disgusted, and partly happy for my mom. These days I’m just happy for her.”

“I worry about Brook, hearing us, and thinking sex must be pretty great. And then when she finally does it she’ll be thinking, is that all there is?”

“I don’t think she’ll have any problem having a good sex life.”

“I mean because of the guy.” I’m forgetting it might be a girl.

“Oh. Yeah. I had to go through a couple of duds. You did too, I think.”

“You mean sexual duds? Um, not really.” It took me quite a while to get a dud, and it may have been me who was the dud on that occasion. To this day she’s the only woman I’ve ever had sex with just once. Not something we wanted to do again it seems.

“I thought you said whatsername wasn’t so good.”

“Well she wasn’t very imaginative, and we had a bit of a rut (no pun intended), but at least she liked sex. And that other whatsername really liked sex.”

“I used to like sex, remember. Whatsisname was the first guy I liked sex with.”

Hmm. That’s the guy she’s described as sex being just something he did to her. And she used to credit a different whatisname as the first guy she liked sex with. But I’m not gonna go there with her.

“Yeah, you used to like sex. I remember. And sometimes you still do. Like when we have the best fuck in town.”

“Yeah.”

Unlimited refills

I’m in a much better mood than I have been for about the last ten days. I was about to text River to tell her then I realized why: we had a great fuck last night. The first one in about ten days. Now I really have to text her. Ok. Just did.

For a long time I’ve said River’s fatal flaw is being too nice, or rather, too accommodating, at her own expense.  But lately it’s being too busy, not having a good work/school/life balance. Which may just be fallout from that first fatal flaw. Because of the imbalance I haven’t been feeling emotionally or physically close in the right ways to want to initiate sex. I’d actually rather support her by letting her get the sleep she needs. Which is ok for while.

We talk about this of course, and she opens up most of a day for family activities which was great. But at the end of the day (literally), I feel like sex would just be something I do to her, sex for sex’s sake, or rather for my sake. I still don’t have the right emotional warmup.

So I think about it, because that’s what I do, and I realize that I haven’t done a back rub for her in a while. Back rubs are great. I love touching and being touched. I love River melting beneath me. Back rubs are good physical and emotional warmup for both of us.

So I let River know that’s what we need, and she agrees. We’re so compatible.

And we have a good back rub followed by a great fuck with an incredible finish.

And the next day I’m in a good mood. Sex is my best antidepressant ever. I want a prescription for it. I want to be able to say, “Look!  My doctor says sex PRN but at least every other day.  Unlimited refills.”

P.S. That would be a fine ending for this post. But I have to add, I wish I had a doctor. Where we live there aren’t enough to go around. Maybe River can get the prescription.

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.

Dangerous, a little

I was going to write a redux to this post.  Whatever that is.  I just like the word.  I like thinking about the word.  Maybe I just like red words.  Redux.  Redress.  Reductio ad absurdum.  But I have my redoubts.  A redux.  Something of a postscript here. But what I have to say deserves better.  So I’ve moved it up here, to the top.  A predux.  Here it is:

This was a nice session, physically and emotionally. Sweet but with plenty of raunch factor. River and I can’t have a truly great physical session without the emotional part. I really enjoyed River coming on to me out of the blue during shark week, literally coming out of her blue panties. The it was a real turn-on to have her taking on the challenge, the dual role of getting us both ready, bringing off her first orgasm while attentively jacking my cock hard so we could fuck. I kept thinking, wow, she really wants it, wants me, what a treat, and I’m more than happy to go along for her ride. I hope there’s more where that came from. And then there was Brook’s interjection near the end. The stuff memories are made of.

It’s been over a week of no sex. That’s a long time for me. Like not having sex since the stone age. But, I tend to reach a peak of desire, lust, and horniness after about three days then things taper off and I’m less on edge. It would be so much easier if I didn’t have to live with River running around wither her nipples poking through her shirt, and sleeping naked in bed with me. There’s just something about a naked sweetie.

I brush my teeth and come to bed. River’s on shark week. So she’s wearing panties to bed. It’s sort of a signal. She’s a lot sexier and nicer to snuggle on when she wears some kind of nightie along with them, but it’s not the kind of thing she tends to remember. Sometimes I think being cute hot sexy sweet snuggly is the bane of her existence.

Before I turn out the light I peek under the covers for a quick panty check. Dark blue. Shark week it is.

But then a nice surprise.

“Hi there,” she says as she artfully twines a warm leg around mine. I’m pretty sure she’s coming on to me and it’s not just my eternal wishfully optimistic thinking. But she can’t possibly be into her post-period horny time yet. Which is when we were thinking the first of our once-a-month rendezvous would occur. I’m not gonna argue though.

“Be careful. That might be dangerous.” “Sometimes I like dangerous.” Well. Usually I tell her that I need to write her lines and give her a script, but I can work with that. “I definitely like dangerous.” The panties come off. She’s out of the blue.

She reaches down for my balls and pushes them up alongside my shaft, which at the moment is not very shaft-like. It’s an effective first move, in several ways. It’s so nice not to be doing all the work. Her hand feels great. And she’s got things positioned for a firm rub. “I’m getting some response.” “I wish I could get some response out of you.” “Maybe the wand will.” “Can you do us both at the same time?” “Let’s find out.”

I pick the magic wand up off the floor and hand it to River who switches it on and puts the buzz on her clit. She must be doing the wand left-handed because she’s doing me right-handed. And doing a fine job of it. It doesn’t hurt that I get to think about how she’s doing us both at the same time, which is pure turn-on. I wonder if it’s turning her on as much as it is me. I’m guessing the answer is yes, since playing with my cock and getting me hard seems to do something for her. But maybe it’s just distracting her from her “real” work with her own parts. I hope not.

And wow, she’s coming already. Good thing her attention has gotten me hard enough for the stick-in. I think. She switches off the wand while she comes. I roll towards her, slip my legs under her knees. She reaches down, lines us up, my cock nestles against her pussy opening then pushes into her familiar comfort. And we fuck.

Her orgasm continues as I grab her shoulder for leverage and push hard and deep and steady. Even though it’s shark week River’s pussy doesn’t have that strange slippery feel that it often does at this time of the month. It has a nice soft lusciousness. “You feel surprisingly good tonight.”

In our position it’s easy to finger River’s clit while we fuck. She takes over. Everything, my memory included, blurs as she goes for another one and I angle my cock to slide along the bone at the front of her pussy. “That’s really sweet.” Now she should be writing my lines. I should be saying “It’s meant to be.” And we’re fucking through her second orgasm.

I could come too, but I’m enjoying this too much, as usual. And I’ve got other plans. River lifts her leg over me as I rotate to sit in front of her, never losing our connection. My arm keeps her leg raised in what we call Reader Position because of its effective and memorable use in the movie The Reader. I watch my cock disappear into her shadowy darkness as we both catch our breath.

Brook’s voice from another room breaks the supposed silence. “Be quiet you guys!” “We’re just breathing,” River calls back. “Well stop it!” Will that teach us to fuck with our door closed? Not likely. I like having the door open, and I think River does too. Sometimes she likes dangerous.