lust

We were cuddling in bed. Are you horny? I asked. My clit was alert and interested. I squeezed my thighs together to increase the ache. I felt tipsy, though it was the middle of the day, and I don’t drink.

Then he was lying on his back, and I went down on him. His cock was small at first. I like to make it big in my mouth—I like to take it the full range from small and soft, to big and gagging. I went down on him with enthusiasm. When it made me gag too much, I used my hand for a while, then back to sucking his dick again.

Get a condom, I told him. I sucked his dick until he seemed very ready, then put the condom on him and fucked him. I put my hands on the bed above his shoulders and fucked him with long, complete strokes. I put my hands on his shoulders and fucked him fast and shallower. I leaned back and sat on him, making little motions, watching his face and listening to the speed of his breathing to make sure he really liked everything I was doing, learning about him all the time.

When I had my hands on the bed above his shoulders, he stared at my tits and played with them, sucking my nipples, which I loved. I had my right foot on the floor, and that was good, but it taxed me, so I rolled off him to my side of the bed.

He got some lubricant and touched my clit. It was sweet as I rested. Then he wanted to fuck me some more. I lay there masturbating. Tell me when to turn over, I said.

Turn over, he said. He put a new condom on and entered me hard. As usual, the first penetration from behind feels exciting and surprising, and I make a sound that communicates that to both of us.

He fucked me like mad, just pounding me, then slowing to almost a tease. This cycle happened over and over again. I listened carefully to his sounds and the squeaking of the bed. I loved to hear him so happy. He sounded uninhibited and completely lost in the act of sex. My pleasure was so increased by knowing he was well. He’s been so stressed out and moody lately that I feel intense sex is one of the best things I can do for him.

I’m going to come, he said, and his cries intensified, and his fucking became more deliberate and shuddering. His hand went to the condom. He kept fucking me that way for a little while, wanting the moment to continue.

Then I masturbated. He fucked me with the blue vibrator from behind as I rubbed my clit. When I finally came, it was as intense as the day before, and I was making high shrieking sounds as the waves hit me hard and in quick succession.

We only had a little while to cuddle afterwards because I needed to take a shower and go to a religious meeting, the one where we ask to be purified of the stain of lust. I don’t know if this disconnect between my sex life and outside religous life can continue.