Still Loving You

Sex Story Submitted By Anonymous Guest Author

He walked into the room. The smell was a light hint of her perfume. It made him think back, back to all the memories they had created together. He looked at her. Her long brown hair, blue eyes, and smooth milky skin. How beautiful he remembered her from their youth. She was still beautiful, but beauty changes over time. Now it was the beauty of a mature woman. A woman having given birth to his four children. As she leaned over the bassinet of the youngest, his son, he smiled. The way she smiled at their son, the love she gazed upon him. It made her beauty gleam, and he wanted to take her in his arms.

It was erotic to him as well. For she stood there, having just bathed, in her black lace tanga panties. Her skin still seemed to shine a little from being wet in the bath. It was as smooth as baby skin with lotion drenching every pore hungering of thirst. The sweet smell of the lotion made his mind sink into smells of pure sexual lust. Every curve he could see, every scent he could smell, every sweet moan he could hear, and the softness of her, oh the softness. Just to hold her breasts in his hands. To softly kiss her nipples. He felt like all of his senses were going to explode like a fireworks display.

He watched her blanket the baby and walked back into the bathroom. He noticed everything about her, from her cute toes up to the part in her hair. She has just had a pedicure; her toes shiny pink like the roses in the front yard. Roses, ah, the love once made on a bed of rose petals, he remembered that night. Her legs were just shaven, smooth like the golf green in their backyard.

Ah, riding around looking at the glory of the Lord with her and the children. He could smell the blooms of the flowers and see the beauty of the fairways. Her waist, her hips, her round bottom, her ledge. He loved to run his fingers along her ledge, the softness, the teasing of where that ledge ended. Her heat was radiating from her soft, wet, wanting place of him. He could hear her many moans, her screams of delight, her soft whispers of love in his ear as he would enter her slowly. The wetness of her kisses to his ear. As he gazed at her, he remembered it all.

He walked closer to where she was, where she was finding her sanctuary of time spent becoming his bride all over again. He peaked in quietly, feeling like a little boy looking across the room to see if what he heard really was Santa Claus. Were his memories, his dreams, was she real? He saw her standing there looking in the mirror. Her long fingers running through her hair as she looked and wondered when he was returning home to her.

He saw the rings on her fingers. The five-year and ten-year rings, more time to come, he prayed. His eyes wandered down to her stomach and chest. Some scaring still visible from the children she had bore. He said a prayer of thanksgiving for the sacrifices her body had made. She was still so beautiful, her full breasts and soft dark nipples, her small delicate neck. Surely, he thought, they were put on this earth for him to caress and love?

How is it he deserved so much? He heard her walking towards him. His heart raced, and he began to sweat. He was her husband, he was allowed to take her in his arms, yet he felt like a boy in junior high school about to be walked right on by. He so wanted her to feel the same, the same passion, for him and only him. She walked out of the room and saw him standing against the wall. He was her love. He was home. He looked at her smile, her eyes, surely these were the critical pieces to the puzzle of his heart! Only she and she alone could work the puzzle.

He grabbed her by the waist and ran his hand around her bottom and slipped his fingers underneath her black, lace, tanga panties. He slowly slid them off like they were delicate parts of sculpture to be molded and changed. He could see the look in her eyes starting to change; his eyes never left hers. She wanted him, he could see it. He lifted her up like a feather, his adrenaline making him strong. He began to kiss her to caress her to love her. His lips moved up the inner part of her legs. She felt little cold sensations where the wetness from his lips had just been.

They tingled as he moved up her thighs, kissing her hips, her soft stomach going back down to the part he wanted the most. She was wet with wanting, her clit throbbing and beyond normal sensitivity. She felt the tip of his tongue on her clit as he would softly lick and dip his tongue into her, tasting her sweetness, the sugar of a peach. She looked at him with her eyes glazed over, her hands hanging onto his ears. She didn't need to tell him to keep going, for he enjoyed watching her, hearing her, tasting her. He softly ate on the peach until it burst with complete contentment. She was in another world and hoped her world would continue to exist for some time.

He slowly undressed and crawled over her as she lay naked on the bed. Time slows down, he pleaded. He put his knees beside each of her ears as she took his bottom in her hands. He felt the warmth of her hands, the sharpness of her nails. She coddled his penis in her mouth, teasing him, watching him. She kissed and hummed on his testicles. She ran the tip of her tongue up his shaft as his head thrust back with a curled lip. He placed his penis in her mouth, and she began to draw it in and out being sure to slide her tongue around the tip as it reached the edge of her mouth. Deeper and deeper, he plunged as she pulled his bottom toward her. He could barely stay straight on his knees; he would buckle down out of the sheer weakness of pure pleasure. She then rolled on top of him, taking her place in his saddle. They fit together so perfectly.

The pleasure and raw animal passion they exchanged filled the room. It smelled of sex, of love, of them. He held her breasts tightly as she bounced up and down on his hard penis. All the way to the end, she would bring his penis from her. He squeezed her nipples and looked up, watching his penis slide in and out of her. His head flew back, and he wanted her his way; it was his turn to take control, his turn to show her, his turn to take her. He grabbed her hips and slung her off of him. He lightly bit at her nipples and then kissed her as she had always seen the perfect passionate kiss. He wanted her to see it wasn't over; he wanted her to see he still wanted her, but he wanted her to know he had thought about this all day, she was his dream, and he wanted the dream.

He crawled behind her and pulled her up on all fours and pulled her to him. He entered her with a definite thrust of power. She was beyond erotica. She screamed, she begged, he must drive his cock into her with the power of his whole body. She wanted to feel him, all of him. He spanked her, called out to her, turned, and saw that they were directly in front of the mirror on her dresser so that he could see it all.

Not only could he feel her around him, but he could also see it! He could see his every thrust as she pulled harder at the bedsheets. He could see as she reached under her and held softly to his testicles. Massaging them like marbles in her hand. He could see as he leaned forward and held her breasts in his hands. He was nearly, completely, at one with her body. He pulled her closer and closer; he felt himself building, the vein in his penis growing. He was getting harder, and she was getting wetter, she continued to beg. He didn't want to disappoint. He was about to cum, was she?

She tightened around his penis and screamed as he felt a small burst within her. It sent him over the edge; his whole body clenched, all of the feeling was in his penis, he could barely breathe. His eyes rolled back as she pulled away and turned around. She could see his freedom, his pleasure. She leaned over and placed his penis in her mouth. He moaned and fell nearly all the way back before catching himself with his hands. She sucked hard and deep. She wanted to taste every inch of him. All of him. She continued to tickle, to rub, to taste until his ejaculation was completely finished. He shuddered as she rolled her tongue around the tip of his penis.

He held her for a short minute and looked into her eyes. He saw his bride, his heart. He was complete. She smiled and kissed him softly on the forehead! He chuckled, having remembered the first time he had kissed her on the forehead.