Why Is Alice Always Late For Work?
By TheShyAssassin
- 627 reads
He woke a few minutes before the alarm, but he didn’t open his eyes. He was lost in his thoughts of the night before and how feverishly they’d made love. How she’d panted and sweated, fought him and clawed at him like a tiger as she came. Six months they’d been together now, and every day it got better. When he opened his eyes she was gazing at him, green eyes under raven-black hair, three inches from his. He tenderly stroked her cheek. How had this miracle happened?
The alarm on her phone – “I’ll Be Your Mirror.”
“Randy, I’ve got to go to work. I’ve been late every day this week.”
She pecked him on the lips, got up and walked to the bathroom.
“Leave the door open.”
As she brushed her teeth all he could see was the delicious curve of her naked bottom, but when she showered he could study her closely as she lavishly soaped her shoulders, her breasts, her flat abdomen, her long legs, the insides of her thighs. He knew that she would smell of lavender. He knew that she knew he was watching.
She dried herself, then pulled on her short and fluffy white bathrobe and sat at her dressing-table. She fixed her hair then started to apply her make-up. He’d never quite understood this metamorphosis, this transformation from beautiful to even more beautiful. She finished and stood up, but he was ready. Three strides and his hands were around her waist. She only had to glance down to see what he wanted.
“No Randy, I can’t. I don’t want to be late again.”
He hoisted her onto the edge of the dressing table. When he parted her thighs he met little resistance. He moved closer, untied her robe and pulled it down over her shoulders. He began to play with her heavy breasts, to gently tweak her nipples. Her breathing quickened.
“OK, OK, but for God’s sake be quick.”
He didn’t have the luxury of time. He entered and began thrusting urgently. Despite her protests she was warm and wet. He knew he was being selfish. This was a position that he loved but he wasn’t sure about her. He didn’t think she would come like this, so he was surprised when she did, her arms around his neck, breasts pushed hard against his, neck arched back. He loved her cum-face.
Her eyes were still closed when he paused, then withdrew.
She opened her eyes. “What are you doing?
”
He helped her off the dressing-table. Their bed had a sturdy oak footboard.
“My Alice, bend over and hold onto the footboard.”
She did as instructed and he took his place behind her. He parted her legs a little more. He probed deep with his finger, then roughly with his cock. It was his time now. Soon he was ramming her hard and she had to use all her strength to brace herself. With each thrust the delicious sensation built in the end of his cock. One final lunge and hot glorious jets of his essence, his love, his very being, began spurting into her. He heard her breath catch in acknowledgement. He didn't stop till he was empty and diminished. He paused a while to take in the intimacy of the warm wetness holding him in its firm grasp.
He carefully withdrew then fell on to the bed, pulling her on top of him.
“I love you Alice Spunkmeyer.”
“I love you Randy Cummeister.”
She kissed him passionately.
“Hadn’t you better get ready? You don’t want to be late for work again….”
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