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She sat down on me gently at first, taking measured steps to fit me inside of her. I wrapped my arms around her, helping to guide her down. I smiled up at her face and asked, “I thought you wanted to get breakfast first?” “Well, I couldn’t let that nice hard morning wood go to waste, now, could I?” she responded. With that, I used my left hand to raise her right breast up a bit and took her nipple between my lips. I sucked gently and caressed it with my tongue, which was rewarded by her hand finding the back of my head and pressing my mouth firmly against her breast.We kept the rhythm slow as steam built around us. My mouth gave plenty of attention to each of her breasts, and her arms wrapped around my neck. I could feel her body squeezing my cock more and more each time she slid down it, and I gave a gentle bite to her nipple. She pressed her body down hard onto me, burying me deep inside of her. I held her nipple with my lips and lightly between my teeth as I caressed the tip. Our comfort level increases while our inhibitions decrease. Her smile draws my attention to her lips and I begin to realize how much I’m wanting this woman. Wanting her badly. I wonder if she is feeling the same way that I do and begin wondering how to figure that out. As though she was cued, after a pause in our conversation she reaches out and touches my hand. Its a small, innocent little gesture but the contact fires a spark and I’m sure about her. I’m so sure of things that I’m willing to take a chance. “You are coming home with me.” I say it like it is a matter of fact, a realization that I’ve had about our evening together: it’s not an order, nor a question, nor a request. Her mouth falls open just a bit, her cheeks redden, she nods. I stand and offer her my hand and she takes it and stands. Her face is now mere inches away and I can’t resist my impulses any more. Her face is in my hands, the soft skin smelling very faintly of flowers or roses. My lips on on hers. She opens.
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