Hot Monogamy (2 page)

He worked his way to my front and began to gently tickle my clavicle and the tiny indentation where my diamond pendant rested.
 
He bent his head and gently began kissing my little cave.
 
Then he began kissing my neck and my shoulders.
 
My breasts were pressed up against his hairy chest and it felt so good.  Then he abruptly stopped and stepped back.

“I have to look at you,” he said.
 
He stood staring at my dripping body, still firm and supple after fifty-odd years of living.
 
“God, you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.
 
What are you doing in
my
shower?”
 

He pulled me to him and began kissing me wetly with his tongue, probing along my gums and deep into the recesses of my mouth.
 
The water filled our mouths as we kissed and his hands made their way to my breasts.
 
He grabbed the bar of soap and while still kissing me, he began to roam around my nipples with the abrasive soap, around and around, soft and slippery and exciting.
 
I pressed my flat stomach against his hairy one and remembered the grapes.
 

“Oh,” I moaned.
 
“Oh, keep going.
 
My pussy is waiting for you.”

I braced both of my arms against the wall as Paul maneuvered the soap slowly down my gyrating stomach.
 
He stopped to lick and finger my belly button and then found his way to my pelvis.
 

“I want you to eat me, Paul,” I said. “I’ve got a surprise for you.
 
Go deep.”

Paul looked up at me from his kneeling position and smiled curiously. With careful and slow movement, the light snatch of hair sheathing my privates like some kind of veil on an exotic dancer, he flicked his tongue in and out like a flashlight going on and off for a few seconds while I continued to groan and my legs muscles became very tight and focused.
 
Then he went deeper, his tongue probing my inner depths, hunting, searching for the hidden treasures.
 
I could feel the grapes’ coolness and the slight heaviness in my insides.
 
It was exciting.
 

Paul took two of his fingers, inserted them in the moist hole and began to circle around.
 
The grapes were moving and I felt the two fingers grasp one and pull gently.
 
He looked up at me quizzically and pulled the grape so it was just at my pussy opening.
 
He went in for the kill with his mouth, sucking it through the opening.
 
My whole core shuddered.
 
My feet were rooted to the ground.
 
I was oblivious to the water.
 
I only knew the intense pleasure that was surrounding me from every direction.
 
The grape was in his mouth.
 

He stood up and pushed my shoulders downward so I was forced to kneel under the streaming water.
 
He pushed me backward so I was leaning against the sloping tub edge and he kissed me passionately, slipping the fragrant pussied grape from his mouth into mine.

“I’m going down for more,” he announced.
 
He knew I would not have settled for just one.
 
As I reclined against the tub, my legs bent, he buried his face in my bush.
 
I was gripping the tub with both hands and opening my legs as wide as the tub allowed.
 
Their aching was exquisite.

He began to suck, and then blow, suck and then blow, both with amazing intensity.
 
It was a cool wind, tickling my most sensitive parts.
 
Then he pointed his tongue and darted it in firmly, looking for grapes.
 
He maneuvered it as far forward as he could get and then sucked hard.
 
A grape blew out of my vagina with amazing velocity.  By this time, the water was finally growing tepid and we were shriveled.
 

“Let’s get out of here, Baby, and I’ll finish you up in bed,” Paul said.
 
We climbed out of the tub; I was panting with pleasure and anticipation.

“Slow down, make it last,” Paul said as he began to sensually dry me off with a large towel.
 
He lingered on my breasts and my ass and between my legs, rubbing hard in each of those places.

“Spread your legs for me,” he said, taking either end of the rough towel, sweeping it back and forth between my legs, causing friction on my thighs and labia.
 
In contrast to the sleek wetness of the shower and his hands, it was startling.
 
He shoved the towel a bit deeper inside of me, making sawing motions with it.
 
I felt like a tree ready to be felled.

Next there followed a thorough and loving pat down with a much softer, downy towel that had been sitting on the heated towel rack.
 
I was beginning to relax, feeling almost ready for sleep.
 
The heat light pounded down on me as Paul sensually completed toweling me off.
 
I sleepily gave him my hand and Paul escorted me to the bed, suddenly pushing me down hard.
 

We weren’t done yet.
 
I liked a little rough play, especially when I wasn’t expecting it.
 
Paul has learned to always keep the surprises coming.

“I’m tying you up,” he announced, “and then I’m going to fuck you until you cry for mercy.”

From my torpor just a moment ago, I had gone back to being hotter than sizzling bacon.
 

Bring it on, Big Boy,
I thought.
 
Keep on surprising me and I’m yours for life.

He took some panty hose from my underwear drawer and tied my arms up to the bedposts. (Of course, we have a four poster bed.
 
What sexually committed couple doesn’t?)
 
He pulled me forward by my torso so my arms were completely tight and I couldn’t move.
 
Then he pulled one leg to the side of the bed, tying it to a bedpost and then repeated with the other leg.
 
I was laying spread eagled on the bed, writhing and excited beyond belief.

“You don’t think I’m going to let you watch this, do you?” he asked.
 
“Every move I make is going to be a surprise.”

He grabbed a scarf from the bed stand and tied it behind my head, completely covering my eyes.
 
I was becoming more and more excited.
 
I could hardly bear it.
 

Then he said, “I don’t want to hear a word from you,” gagging me with one of his silk ties.

He began slowly.
 
Paul was never predictable when he did this; I loved not knowing what he was going to do next. He was making himself excited too; I felt the hardness of his penis brush my breasts furtively.
 
He circled my nipples with his penis and then I felt a hot wet substance flowing over my breasts.
 
It was the brandy he kept at his bedside table for occasions such as these.
 
He began to lick my nipples and suck on them hard: sucking and licking and biting too.

“Don’t move,” he commanded as he saw my body begin to rise and gyrate.
 
“Don’t move an inch.”

I lay submissively still.
 
He went back to my breasts.
 
He was doing something with a scarf or a cloth, lightly brushing it back and forth across my exploding nipples.

Suddenly he was at my feet, pouring brandy on them and sucking my toes as if they were the most divine of delicacies.
 
He held one foot in the palm of his hand and while sucking my toes he began to slowly fist the sole of my foot, just like I had done to his perineum in the shower.
 
His knuckles digging into the arches of my feet while his mouth and fingers played with my toes was almost as explosive as a hard fuck for me.
 
I could hardly keep myself from erupting.

When he had finished with my feet, I had already succeeded in several small orgasms and didn’t know how much more I could take.
 
But then Paul brought out the feather, or at least that’s what I assumed it was.
 
My blindfold made me exquisitely aware of all the sensations happening in my body.
 
The feather was making its way slowly up my legs, alternating sides, stopping at the backs of my knees before tickling its way all the way up to my pussy’s mouth.
 
It was so sensuous, so exquisite to feel the soft sensation that was driving me to heaven’s gate, but more than anything, my clit was crying, “
Come here, mouth: come here
.”
 
The feather had served its purpose and now I wanted lubrication and pressure.
 
I wanted the hard stuff.

“Don’t move,” he commanded again and I reluctantly let the muscles in my ass relax.
 
I didn’t know how much longer I could stand it.
 
There were still two more grapes ensconced in my warmth and they were crying out for rescue.

And still he wouldn’t go there.
 
He got up from the bed and I heard him walk across the room and retrieve something from the bathroom.
 
I heard the water running.
 
My muscles were pulled tight.
 
I was immobile.
 
What was he going to do?
 
I felt his heavy breathing and I knew he was growing excited again, watching me helpless on the bed.
 
There was a long silence and he moved away again.
 
My insides were shaking with anticipation.

I suddenly felt cold steel on my inner thigh.
 
It was a razor.
 
I keep myself waxed and trimmed so I knew this was more for the sensation than for any clean-up job.
 
He let me feel the razor rest on my thigh for a moment, but did nothing with it.
 
Then it was gone.

He began massaging my thighs firmly, getting dangerously close to my clit, but still not touching it.
 
I was so desperate for him to touch me there, so excited about the razor; and my muscles were so sore from the excited straining that I felt a Charlie horse developing in my calf.
 
When he finally brought the razor down on the softness of my right thigh and the sharp steel contacted my skin, I was frozen with delight.
 
He very languorously and slowly shaved both of my upper thighs, right up to the arch where my legs ended and my torso began.
 
My legs were stretched so wide that he shaved right up to the crack of my ass, resting after each stroke and making me wait and wonder when and where the next one would be.

I was beginning to choke with excitement and Paul quickly reached up and pulled the gag out of my mouth.
 
He let me cough and then plunged his mouth on top of mine and just rested it there for a moment, breathing heavily into my mouth.
 
My tongue strained to meet him but he withdrew every time it came near his cavity.
 
I relented.

And he was back down again. He opened my vaginal lips with his hands and inserted the handle of the razor into my vagina.
 
That feeling was phenomenal – I wasn’t expecting it.
 
He twisted it and turned it, bringing the razor’s edge dangerously close to my privates, but never touching.
 
I started to come.

“Whoa, Baby,” Paul said.  “I’m not finished with you yet.”

He left again and came back with a towel that he put under my ass.
 
He had obviously gotten some Vaseline along with the towel and suddenly I felt his finger up my ass.
 
The razor was still resting inside of me and now his finger was in my other hole.
 
With one finger he twisted and turned inside my ass while he doing the same thing with the razor handle inside my vagina.
 
It sent a huge shudder through my body.
 
Paul kept it in for a moment, twirling lightly.
 
With his finger still up my ass, he pulled out the razor, and his mouth finally came down on me.
 
The moment I had been waiting for had arrived.