time well spent
It was an eventful weekend. My lover and I have been suffering from the affliction of never having enough time to linger in the world of sensuality. Sex in the last few weeks has been squeezed in late at night after long days at work, stuck at the end of filmy, exhausted weekend evenings after partying, and pounced hungrily upon on hurried, frantic mornings before I dashed off to work.
It had to stop. I often take a long time to get relaxed and comfortable enough to have an orgasm in front of a partner, and the rushed sessions were making me tense and frustrated. I hadn't had an orgasm in what seemed like weeks (and probably was), and was building up a tight, tearful, angry jealousy.
We agreed to spend a whole day together, 24 hours during which we had no plans, no agenda, no time constraints. We could spend the whole day in bed if we wanted.
We started with lunch, always an excellent idea. Then we walked for a long time in the cool autumn air, stretching legs easily and warming up the body. I relaxed into our conversation, into the feel of the air on my face, feeling light, calm, loved. When we got home, we immediately went off to bed, wanting to capture the end of the natural light, the shadows of an incanscent bulb being too stark a light by which to do the good work we had in mind. Healing the accumulated hurt inside me would take time and gentle, forgiving hands.
We fucked easily for a while, kissing deeply, reveling in each other's scent and taste. I felt as if it had been so long since I'd had time to really pay attention; I was feeling his skin for the first time. We rolled around in the pillows, the crush of skin and weight of muscle almost painfully sweet. Our kissing was playful and langourous, our limbs tangled and untangled easily.
Eventually I stradled him, feeling shy. I have had little luck being on top during our play, I get shy and embarassed, feeling as though I have forgotten how to orchestrate, feeling large and awkward. This time I kept on going after the first wave of embarassement. I settled forward into his hips, grinding against him, starting to remember how my legs worked. I felt my ass and breasts jiggling and I leaned into the sensation instead of blocking it. I let my consciousness expand to take in my whole body, feeling the sweat pooling in the small of my back, my calves flexing, my breasts swaying. When he came I felt an intense surge of loving triumph, and the beginning of a deep relaxation.
Afterwards, he flipped me onto my back and started to finger me. My cunt and I were both feeling loose and languid, and as we played time slowed. First it was one finger, then two, then three. With eyes wide he asked if I wanted four. I nodded yes. Without thinking about it, I started to breathe deeply and fully, inhaling and exhaling slowly as I was penetrated by the most fingers I'd ever had inside me. I could feel stress and pain ebbing out of my body, my hips opening and relaxing, a slow, oceanic peace coming over my mind.
Then he offered me his thumb. Eyes wide, heart pounding, I accepted it. He showed me his hand, and then, slowly but not too slowly, started putting fingers back inside me.
"This is one. This is two. This is three. This is four. This is five, lover. This is my hand."
I gripped his free hand with one of mine, feeling his heat and love transmitted between us. I breathed more and relaxed, feeling the joint of his hand pressing up against the edge of my cunt. I inhaled, I was the ocean, all love flowed in and out of me, I accepted all into me. I exhaled, tidal, flowing. We hovered here for a while, giddy, swaying. My feet tingled, I felt high. He watched in wonder.
When he took his hand out of me I sank a little into the mattress, feeling textures again, feeling how cold my feet and hands were, marvelling at the place I'd been to. I hadn't come during the near-fisting, but my body was as happy and satisfied as if I had. It was like a totally mental orgasm. The anger and pain of the week had bled off, and I was left feeling calm, so calm, nearly euphoric. I held out my arms and he crawled up into them, we embraced so hard, and settled in for a cuddle. I smelled like him, and he like me. Our debt of time was nearly paid.
It had to stop. I often take a long time to get relaxed and comfortable enough to have an orgasm in front of a partner, and the rushed sessions were making me tense and frustrated. I hadn't had an orgasm in what seemed like weeks (and probably was), and was building up a tight, tearful, angry jealousy.
We agreed to spend a whole day together, 24 hours during which we had no plans, no agenda, no time constraints. We could spend the whole day in bed if we wanted.
We started with lunch, always an excellent idea. Then we walked for a long time in the cool autumn air, stretching legs easily and warming up the body. I relaxed into our conversation, into the feel of the air on my face, feeling light, calm, loved. When we got home, we immediately went off to bed, wanting to capture the end of the natural light, the shadows of an incanscent bulb being too stark a light by which to do the good work we had in mind. Healing the accumulated hurt inside me would take time and gentle, forgiving hands.
We fucked easily for a while, kissing deeply, reveling in each other's scent and taste. I felt as if it had been so long since I'd had time to really pay attention; I was feeling his skin for the first time. We rolled around in the pillows, the crush of skin and weight of muscle almost painfully sweet. Our kissing was playful and langourous, our limbs tangled and untangled easily.
Eventually I stradled him, feeling shy. I have had little luck being on top during our play, I get shy and embarassed, feeling as though I have forgotten how to orchestrate, feeling large and awkward. This time I kept on going after the first wave of embarassement. I settled forward into his hips, grinding against him, starting to remember how my legs worked. I felt my ass and breasts jiggling and I leaned into the sensation instead of blocking it. I let my consciousness expand to take in my whole body, feeling the sweat pooling in the small of my back, my calves flexing, my breasts swaying. When he came I felt an intense surge of loving triumph, and the beginning of a deep relaxation.
Afterwards, he flipped me onto my back and started to finger me. My cunt and I were both feeling loose and languid, and as we played time slowed. First it was one finger, then two, then three. With eyes wide he asked if I wanted four. I nodded yes. Without thinking about it, I started to breathe deeply and fully, inhaling and exhaling slowly as I was penetrated by the most fingers I'd ever had inside me. I could feel stress and pain ebbing out of my body, my hips opening and relaxing, a slow, oceanic peace coming over my mind.
Then he offered me his thumb. Eyes wide, heart pounding, I accepted it. He showed me his hand, and then, slowly but not too slowly, started putting fingers back inside me.
"This is one. This is two. This is three. This is four. This is five, lover. This is my hand."
I gripped his free hand with one of mine, feeling his heat and love transmitted between us. I breathed more and relaxed, feeling the joint of his hand pressing up against the edge of my cunt. I inhaled, I was the ocean, all love flowed in and out of me, I accepted all into me. I exhaled, tidal, flowing. We hovered here for a while, giddy, swaying. My feet tingled, I felt high. He watched in wonder.
When he took his hand out of me I sank a little into the mattress, feeling textures again, feeling how cold my feet and hands were, marvelling at the place I'd been to. I hadn't come during the near-fisting, but my body was as happy and satisfied as if I had. It was like a totally mental orgasm. The anger and pain of the week had bled off, and I was left feeling calm, so calm, nearly euphoric. I held out my arms and he crawled up into them, we embraced so hard, and settled in for a cuddle. I smelled like him, and he like me. Our debt of time was nearly paid.