It's late Tuesday morning and we're at the kitchen table. It's a bit drizzly today and we're just back from a short walk: wet boots are at the door and we're sitting in our socks drinking coffee.
'You're not what I expected David, this......sex, isn't what I'd expected, what I'd planned.'
She's caught me out here. 'I hope I haven't overstepped the mark?'
She sat for a moment, considering what to say. 'I did wonder if I'd started something I shouldn't have, after my bath; when you came in. And I was a little anxious the next morning, wondering what we would say to each other. But then it all seemed to happen, unrehearsed. I hadn't planned any of that; what I said, trying to catch you out, it just came out. And then yesterday afternoon, wow! So no, there was never a mark to overstep and I'm glad this happened, I needed it. And I don't want to stop.'
She looked at me and I looked at her then at the table, then back at her.
She glances down and her eyebrows lift, 'the table?' she asks.
I grin at her and reply, 'the table.'
Now she grins back. 'Oh good.'
I stand and she giggles as I pull her to her feet.
Pulling at her belt buckle I yank it free, then unfasten the button and zip and push her trousers down off her bum to her feet.
Then I push her backwards, tipping her onto my much used and abused table.
Push her right over onto her back.
Leave her knickers on.
A fleeting recognition crosses my mind; Lorraine's choice of underwear has definitely changed over the past few days: from the plain black or white cotton of last week to what can only be described as lingerie, but it's only a fleeting thought, other things demand my attention.
I push her thighs back against her chest, lift her bum towards me, press the palm of my hand between her thighs and start rubbing across her pussy, up and down, round and round.
Start slowly, not pressing hard, then gently speed up, dragging the white lace with me. Up and down the full length of her pussy, then small circles right on top of her clit.
I duck down and she jumps as I clamp my mouth over her pussy, the lace already wet, her flesh hot.
Press my face to her, the lace gusset rough against my lips, the tip of my tongue pushing the fabric against the sensitive skin.
Teeth against her. Then suck. Suck her juices through her knickers.
I shift my focus; edge up a little, lips circle the bump of her mons, still sucking, tongue still teasing, licking and pressing, teeth nibbling and biting.
Her hands on the back of my head. I speed up then slow down, shift from forceful to gentle then back again. She's thrashing around under me, humping my face, legs kicking out behind me, crying and moaning.
She jerks, her arse lifts, her hands press down, her heels pushing down on my back.
She jerks again. 'Ggrrrrgh.' Groans.
Another jerk, her legs kick as I keep going, concentrating on that one small spot, sucking and teething, trying to bring her to new highs.
Her legs tighten, wrap around the back of my head, her clawing fingers pushing me down, forcing me down even harder.
And I still keep going, feel her trip through flickering orgasm after orgasm until they blend into one and she cries out and starts to push my face away, the overwhelming sensations becoming too much.
And I let her have her way, slowly back off until her convulsions have calmed, then push myself out of her embrace, stand upright.
Drag my own belt apart: my trousers big enough to drop without unfastening anything else. Push my shorts off my hips.
My cock has long been rampant, pulsing with hot blood.
I pull her to the edge of the table, her thighs against my chest.
Hook a finger into the soaking wet crotch of her knickers, drag them to one side.
And, with a heart felt groan, sink into her hot, bubbling pussy.
The heat of her is a cocoon that sucks me in, I close my eyes and spend minutes savouring the feeling: but if I stand here too long I'll cum without moving a muscle.
And, just as I'm about to move, her tunnel tightens around me. I open my eyes.
She's gazing at me, a soft look of sated amusement on her face. She squeezes again. 'Enjoying yourself?' She croaks.
I pull back, as far as I can without actually coming out of her.
Then slide back in: not hard or fast, just a long, purposeful slide until I butt up against her cervix.
Her eyes widen into saucers, a gasp of breath through clenched teeth.
I stop, again buried deep inside her, squeeze my arse and balls; quell the urge to cum, force it back.
The need dissipates, the heat dies and I start to move, reverse direction, a long pull back followed by a long slide in until my hips push against her bum.
And again. And again. No real force behind them, just long, single-minded fucking.
Until my own insides begin to bubble.
I push a hand up beside my cock, reach for her clit, my fingers searching, find the spot.
Rub and tap.