Monday Morning, 2am

Monday morning, 2am. Her first orgasm of the new week. And mine.

There was no good reason why we got to bed so late, it just happened. The weather was dull, cold and blustery all weekend so we decided not to go to our sumerhouse as originally planned. By the time we had got it warmed up, it would be time to leave again. Instead we determined to make a start on tidying the house, a job that tends to get neglected during the warm weather precisely because we spend as much time out of the house as we can manage.

You know how it is when you start sorting through old clothes, deciding which to keep and which you know deep down you are never going to wear again. Once you get started it is very difficult to stop, and in any case we couldn’t sneak off to the bedroom early for a protracted evening of fun because Daughter was lurking around the house until quite late.

So we lie flat out, naked and tired, in the dim glow of the clock radio, knowing that we really ought to be going to sleep what with work tomorrow, but knowing equally that it is not going to happen. We’ve both got the need and anyway, we probably won’t be all that busy.

She rolls towards me and takes charge of my cock, rolling and kneading it to full stiffness, rubbing it up and down on her thigh. I kiss her breasts. Her beautiful, beautiful breasts, spending an eternity with each nipple, sucking and tugging with my lips. We kiss, but not too long or too deeply: Heather had been bunged up with a cold all week and still cannot breathe properly through her nose, so I cradle her head against my chest and kiss her forehead while I smooth her hair back.

I run the palm of my hand across her body, starting with her neck and shoulders, her arms, her breasts, across her stomach and, inevitably, down between her legs until I feel the springy resilience of her pubic hair. I smooth it out of the way and gently tease her lips apart, seeking that little pool of moisture they are guarding. My fingers glide along her slippery furrow and hook back into her hot, wet cunt.

I withdraw my hand again and lick my fingers, ostenibly to wet them so that I can push them deep inside her, but also so that I can taste her, lick her sweet nectar from my fingertips. I shift position so that I am kneeling up beside her, the better to push a couple of fingers deep inside her while grinding into her clit with the palm of my hand. Heather’s soft moans become more frequent and she reaches up between my legs with the one hand to stroke my balls from behind, while the other hand has a firm grip on my cock and is wanking it slowly but strongly. It takes a whole lot of my concentration to stop myself coming straight away and spraying my seed over her glorious tits. The thought crosses my mind that I might just let myself go while she is in the throes of her climax.

But I want to be inside her and I believe she will feel cheated if she doesn’t get me inside her too. I could break off now and give her the good, hard fucking we both crave but I know that she won’t be able to orgasm from that so I would have to pull out at the last minute and go back to stimulating her clit to get her there, and I don’t want to break the rhythm we’ve got going now: She’s so close, so very close.

I put my knee in between her legs so that she can’t close them, or at least so that she has something to push against, and reach for her breasts. She shrieks in surprise as I take one nipple and pinch it hard. I am afraid I have overdone it, that I have really hurt her, but her gasps and her increasingly heavy breathing tells me that I have merely pushed her just that little bit further along. I pinch again, and pull, and twist. Despite myself I realise that my features are mirroring her grimace. Feeling her pain, sharing her pent-up frustrations and, finally, being part of her release. She sobs hoarsely, every breath rasping in her inflamed throat, and then just seems to deflate on the bed. As gently as I can I push her legs apart and ease myself into her still-spasming cunt. I scoop up her head, along with the pillow it is resting on, and crush it to my chest as I lie on top of her and fuck her with long, deliberate strokes until I, too, am spasming inside that tight little space.

There are no tissues beside the bed. Risking a giant wet patch we roll apart and Heather makes a run for the bathroom to rid herself of our juices. I lie on the bed, nursing my cock, removing as much of its slippery coating as I can in my clenched fist and not being able to resist a little taste. I roll over and look at the clock on the bedside table.

Monday morning, 2am. Our first orgasm of the week.