She Got to be a Cake
"I'd love to french kiss you," she said.
"Oh?" he teased.
She replied insistingly, " I'm going to French kiss you, put my lips on yours, part my lips, then push my tongue through my lips and into your mouth, swish it around in a little mating dance to attract the attention of your tongue, and then do the most French of all kisses."
"I can do the Belgian kiss, which is similar because they speak French there, and at the end we spit out a waffle. Also, it might take a little more to seduce my tongue then you might think. You know, I served as a Lieutenant in the Merchant Marines, and while there did my fair share of tongue seduction in the various ports we visited. The simple art of the back and forth waggle," he grinned.
She moved next to him on the couch miming for him to stop talking and close his eyes. He did both these things. This was a typical Sunday afternoon for them. They were a hot, fun, married couple in their thirties, who seemed to only get sexier and more lithe every day. Seeing them in a room was like seeing two people who counted each other as best friends and then lovers.
One PM on Sunday was what they called "The Chronological Mystery Zone," but it was always their time to have luxurious and extended sex without the pressing needs of the work week. And the need to nap pulling them away from the intoxicating world of entangled bodies to the otherworldly realm of dreams, where you might be trying to hunt a comically large pig with your mom's friends for some reason, held no power.
She pecked his lips, then quietly shushed him. She licked his lips and kissed his nose, then did it again, and the third time began to lick the length of his lips, back and forth. Without stopping her slow lick, she straddled him, making sure the crotch of her tight jeans sat directly on the crotch of his.
The increased heat caused what had been a mostly sensual act to become a step towards sex. "Hmmmm," he moaned loudly.
"Shhhhh, no talking," she said with a slight air of authority. She then got up and began undressing, an act of mercy to let her bare breasts out of a tight, button down, shirt. To say she was shapely was an understatement. Her hips and bust were not slight, but exactly the kind of curvy that used to be in before Twiggy and the skinny models started being so god damn skinny.
She said, "Get undressed," with a sly smile on her face. He shambled and unbuttoned his tight jeans, and threw off his shirt and underthings in seconds. His eyes had been closed the entire time, and he was loving this.
"You're so God Damn wide," she said, talking about his chest, but also his dick. "You wear those jeans and tee shirts, lounging around at home, keeping that barrel chest all to yourself. You're so naughty, just hiding those thighs and defined calves. What's your end game here?" she said commandingly, but with humor. They were both having a good time with this.
"I could talk about your stupid dick and how it's not in me. I could talk about your dumb ass hands not on my tits. What's the deal with guys who can't read your mind?" she observed like a comedian. She kissed him sweetly on the nose.
"Ok. Here's the deal. I'm going to sit on your cock, you're going to keep your eyes closed, and we're going to make love. I know you're all like, let's just fuck, I'm a chimp and I just wanna fuck and watch sports."
He wasn't like that. He intimately knew the finer, sophisticated points of making love and was a devotee of high culture, and she loved to pretend that he was a neanderthal. As she sat on his cock, his delighted smile turned into a delighted laugh.
"Shhhhhhh," she said. She grabbed his shoulders and began to ride his cock, settling in for her journey to climax.
She was steadfastly intent on fucking him, like when you come into work and think you can do anything that day. But, she was still in a teasing mood.
"Think about being at a city dump and the stench of fifty years of diapers is wafting into your nose, and we're fucking on a refrigerator box. A diaper has blown onto your face, its inhabitants include half-dried poop and maggots."
He just kept smiling, loving the way she teased him, and she kept using him, feeling his cock rub up against her G-spot, and grinding against his pubic region to stimulate her clit. His cock was a little big to go in easily, but she loved the feeling of that first bit of resistance every time she sank down on his hot and messy prick.
She was beginning to get worked up, and shoved two fingers into his mouth, pulling a little on his teeth and tongue. He responded by licking them slowly, applying suction with his lips and tongue to mouth fuck her fingers.
But it was the friction between their genitals that took her to the next level. Her groans went from moving a table with friends to moving a table by yourself. Her pussy was wet and swollen. Her face was red. She was giving pleasure, but making sure to not lose even the tiniest wisp of her own.
She was a dominant fuck-piston, living in a world inhabited exclusively by her vagina and his cock. She was fucking him. She turned, with great facility and ease, so that her ass was facing him without getting off his cock, and began riding him fast. Fast and hard. Hard and fast. Fast and hard, ensuring that they would both feel a little raw, but entirely satisfied.
"You can tell me when you're going to cum. I want you to cum on my belly," she said. Turning into a jackhammer and going into the last stage of her now rampaging arousal. Her groans became yells, her yells became his name yelled, except once when it was Pope Francis to make him laugh, and then she came hard like a freight train crashes into another train and derails them both.
Her orgasm made him start twitching. "I'm ready," he yelled. She got off and laid on the floor. He opened his eyes and aimed at her belly, shooting cum on her and groaning loudly in painful/sweet release. She laughed, and clapped for the climax of their sexual journey. She was the captain and he the captain's servant and sometimes submissive lover. She had brought them through as one vehicle with a piston engine, and at the end she got to be a cake.