Sundays escapades

The brink of winter found our bodies wrapped beneath layers of heavy warmth. Our fingers almost ached as their tight link was strained by woolen gloves, but there was no way I’d ever let go. Frosted breath escaped in puffs of laughter as he teased me about our afternoons sexual escapade. My blush faded in the darkness of the lightly dusked haze, but he knew it rose, as I knew his cock would be twitching at the memories we’d just made.

A Sunday morning lazily wasted with too many coffees and bare breasted poetry read. He likes my nails lacing their way through his curly tufts as he reads to me words of wondrous lust. Sundays were our favourite, each breath unplanned, spontaneous.
‘Let’s go to the movies’
His voice barely heard, yet the depth reverberating through my chest resting ear.
‘Oh yes please’ I almost squealed, as I straddled his lounging lap, covering his smile with kisses.
We showered together, it wasn’t a written rule yet a Sunday treat that seemed to be our constant.
He washed my entire body clean, with suds of coconut milk, then fucked my screams into steam, before allowing me to lather him, touch him, cover him with my sated adoration.
We made it to the movies, barely.
Scents of buttered popcorn wafted through the door he held open. My mouth watered, I’m not entirely sure if it was from the bursting smell, or his fingers resting on the nape of my neck as he followed my sway through the door. Either way, my body ached, in elation.
The countryside theatre was a bit of a drive, but the only one he enjoyed visiting. A quaint little building, with a welcoming warmth that the cities cinemas never matched. Just more than a few rows of burgundy upholstered seats had us find our comfort, not quite the back, but centered to the heavily draped screen.
My eyes slowly scanning the company we’d be sharing time with, pleased to see only a scattering of matured couples, softly conversing as the lights slowly dimmed.
The chairs either side of us wore our coats, gloves and scarves in wait to once again be adorned when our momentary reprieve from winters freeze ended. Until then, my bare fingers danced along the insides of his thighs, as his did mine. Both of us finding the source of heat simultaneously, we sheepishly grinned into a deeply devouring kiss. Our tongues danced to the tune of the opening scene, which left the next too, to be left unseen.
His whiskers scratch so evocatively over my greedy claim of his intoxicating flavour. My busy fingers freeing him from being restrained, wrapping his pulsating shaft in my friction heated palm. Long, slow strokes, rolling my thumb around his helmet, had his twitch spark my swift depart from his hungry lips.
I slid myself down, resting between his parted knees, he shifted in his seat, just enough for his throbbing need to be completely available for me to play.
Desperate to take him deeply, my lips wrapped loosely as he reached beyond my teeth, into my moan. His fingers finding themselves tangling tendrils of hair, his cock was my game, his hot cum, my prize.

20131120-142631.jpg
I slowed, a lifted gaze as I rose, circling, curling my tongue with licks and flicks to his low groans.
‘Shhhhhh’ came a complaint from a lower row.
A firm hand grip had me forced into ‘don’t fucking stop’ mode.
My pussy clenched in a frenzy of thrilling spills, gliding my fingers between my moistened folds, I lifted them and smeared my arousal, for his tongue to taste and savour.
‘Be quiet!’ Another voice scoffed.
As he tossed his head back in an attempt to ease his heaving throat.
His heavy balls contracting in my massaging hand, my long twisting strokes beckoning his spill. He filled my mouth, with pumping jets of tangy cream that followed my swallows with mirrored urgency of my need to drain his every last drop. He gave me his all, and I took my reward with perhaps a little too much pleasure, as our hushed exit was expected with a brightly intruding spotlighted escort.

‘Maybe we should see a movie again next Sunday’ his tone oozing with sarcasm.
‘Let’s’ I replied, leaning in to kiss his smirk, letting him taste remnants of our Sunday cinematic escapade from my perfectly swollen lips.

6 thoughts on “Sundays escapades

  1. marcus

    ahem…jc1957 has the right idea…whatever that may be but I have a good feeling, it’s the same thing I’m spinning about. Mesmerizing photo to boot. Damn!!! After reading that I don’t have the strength to howl lol

    Like

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s