Something causes me to drift up out of a deep sleep. My eyes flutter open. Enough moonlight is coming through the bedroom window to faintly illuminate him kneeling beside me on the bed. I am not sure what his intentions are. I know that sometimes he just likes to watch me sleep.
He studies me for a long moment and then reaches over to grasp the waistband of my panties. He pulls them gently down. I raise my hips to make his task easier. He slips the lacy garment off my feet and drops it to the floor. Now I know what he has in mind, but I do not yet know how it is going to unfold.
Occasionally, if his need is great, he enters me immediately. He is well endowed. Once, when we were just beginning to have sex, I playfully measured the size of his cock with a tailor's tape. Fully erect, it is about eight inches long with a circumference of seven inches on the dot.
Circumference doesn't mean much to me but diameter I understand; I can check it out with a thumb and forefinger. Math was not my best subject, so he informed me that the diameter that had my attention is a shade over two-and-one-quarter inches; something to do with a number called pi. The ladies magazines told me his size is well above average. I have little basis for comparison. My only other lover was a long time ago in college and I do not recall him being exceptional in any way.
If he enters me now, he will use a lubricant and proceed very slowly. When he was a little younger and a little less patient, he once entered me too roughly. It scared me and it hurt. I recoiled and yelped in his ear, getting his attention. He has been gentle with me ever since.
He moves down toward the foot of the bed. His intentions are now becoming more apparent. He parts my legs. I pull my knees back, plant my feet firmly on the bedding, and open my legs wider to allow him better access.
He slowly lowers his face and begins to kiss the insides of my thighs, pausing now and then to brush his lips through my fur without touching any skin. I feel an ember starting to glow deep inside me. I know that before he is finished, the ember will become a little flame, then a small fire, then a conflagration, and finally a raging inferno of lust. Later, a tsunami will wash over me to extinguish the flames and send me spinning off into orgasmic freefall.
He avoids direct contact with my pussy long enough for me to start feeling frustrated. I rock my pelvis up into his face, telling him I want more. He ignores me. Soon I am vocalizing my need, whimpering softly.
Just when I am about to lose my mind, he parts me with his fingers and runs his tongue briefly up between the lips of my pussy and around my clitoris, dipping back down to taste my nectar. Involuntarily, I thrust upward against his tongue and cry out sharply.
Pleased with my response, he continues manipulating me with his tongue but carefully avoids direct contact with the most sensitive part of my body. I become more vocal as my arousal grows. The ember has become a small flame and I know I am going to have an orgasm tonight, perhaps more than one.
The same ladies magazines that enlightened me about the size of his cock also taught me that I am a fortunate woman in another respect. Nine out of ten times when we have sex, I reach a climax. About half those encounters produce a second. Occasionally, there is a third.
He pushes his tongue more deeply into me, lapping up my dew. I shudder with pleasure. Once again pleased with his effect on me, he shifts his attention to my clit, now swirling his tongue round and round its base. Soon I am crying out continuously as my arousal ramps upward. The fire is burning brightly. I know I am going to cum soon.
I am getting close now. He senses this and eases the pressure on my clit. I start rocking my pussy hard against his face, telling him not to slow down. Once again he ignores my demands and holds me just below the threshold of what I know will be a crushing orgasm if I can just get him to push me over the edge.
