It was a lazy day that consisted of a few errands run and ended with us laying on the sofa together playing games on our phones. It's early and the house is still active with the dog ripping a chew toy to shreds at our feet and the kids milling about doing the things teenagers do, talking too loud and razzing us on our level of PDA. We ignore them. We will laugh when they find someone who makes them feel this way. We will remind them about excessive PDA and how kissing is overrated. But for now we enjoy our lazy moments together, allowing the sexual tension to build unhurried between us. A slow burn is always best.
He falls into a light doze, absentmindedly running his hands across the planes of my body. His proximity is enough to awaken my senses. His touch, unrushed and teasing brings them to a steady hum. At times I find it annoying that he knows me so well; that he is able to tease me this way and still function as if nothing is happening while an inferno builds between my thighs ready to combust at any moment. But I remember that turnabout is fair play and he will be at my mercy soon enough. So I relax and float on the pleasurable waves that he creates.
Of course he must have sensed my acquiescence to his ministrations and decided to kick things up another notch. Now it's not enough to graze my nipples through my thin cotton top. Now he has to reach inside my shirt to cup my breast with his palm then grip my nipple firmly between his fingers while he pulls them down as if to milk me. It is the delicious mix of pain and pleasure that arouses me more than anything and sends an instant flood of wetness to the gusset of my panties. My hips arch up off the sofa, searching for his touch in the place that weeps just for him.
I can feel his cock pressing hard against my back. It causes a wicked internal smile to know he is not immune, that my response to him fuels his response to me. I can't continue to lounge against him. I need his mouth on me, on my lips, my neck, my breasts. I raise up on my knees to face him. I know I'm doing too much. It's 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Our youngest daughter is in the bathroom, primping for a round of endless selfies no doubt. The oldest is making an even deeper crater in her bed as there is nothing she likes better than a nap.
Our lips meet and it is electric. There is something about the taste of his breath that inflames me. He slides his tongue across mine and I suck him into me, wanting more of his taste, more of him. I raise the hem of my top, exposing my breasts. He caresses one while he latches onto the other. He suckles me slow and deep with soft moans that match mine. I clutch his cock which has grown hard and heavy in his thin track shorts with one hand as I hold his head to my breasts with the other. He is biting my nipple now, pulling as he bites then soothing the sumptuous ache by sucking me back deeply into his mouth. Next the bathroom door opens and it's like a dowsing of cold water on top of both of our heads. Damn it. Kid timing is always impeccable for fucking up parental plans.
He stills me, keeping me from making any sudden moves that would give our carrying on away. I pull my shirt down to cover my exposed breasts and pretend that I'm looking at a bump on his neck. In actuality I am rubbing my thumb across the pulse at his throat. The same spot I plan to run my tongue across and sink my teeth into.
