more care

Sex is a really important way we take care of ourselves. I've been sick with a cold, but I took a shower this evening while he was working and then invited him to bed.

I touched the hair on his chest. I pushed him back on the bed and took advantage of the vulnerability of his package and sucked his dick, impressed with his responsiveness after all these years.

Then he fucked my mouth while I lay back on the bed. I pushed him away and asked him to play with my tits. Then I opened my mouth and requested more dick in it.

Then he fucked me from behind. "Take it hard," he instructed. I wanted it hard. I felt well-used, exhausted, a pillow beneath my ribs. I fucked him back in fast jerking motions until he came.

He held me as I masturbated--he rubbed my tits and looked at me with love while my mind rolled from memory to memory, and my hand rubbed fast and slow, fast and slow. When I was about to come, I put his hand there and made him push me over.

It had grown dark. We lay in the mostly-darkness half-asleep. The wind's blowing today, and the leaves were rustling outside. The world was quiet. If life can be like this, everything will be okay.