“Fill me my love, fill me however you want.”
He took her hand and placed it on the underside of his cock, he bid her stroke and bring to full erection. He watched as her hand expertly twisted with a practiced motion, he thought of the pleasure she had given in the past and this made him warm inside, felt at complete rest. He bent his cock down and entered.
“Place your hands on your knees and coax me to come.” He asked.
He was fully inside, she could feel the balls beat a rhythm on her taut skin below her pussy.
“Come my love, come inside, don’t strain, don’t reach. Let it come in jets and fill me up.” Her words uttered in her soft, loving tone were the only encouragement he needed. His body filled with the heat of excitement. Staring down at her body, the flow of her relaxed breasts, each movement he made causing them to ripple. The tightening of her belly as she raised her hips to meet his rampant thrusts, further spurred him on.
The first spasm washed over him. He let go without straining, his head went back as he came. She was delighted she had this power over him right now, he was completely vulnerable. His moans of pleasure and his spasms lasted what seemed like minutes.
“You come just beautifully, I am so happy to have witnessed it.” She held his face gently as she spoke with emotion.
He lowered himself into her welcoming arms and let out a sigh, he clenched in a final spurt. Her hand found the small of his back and she pressed him to her. His head nestled in the solace of her voluptuous breasts. With the fingers of one hand she traced soothing circles on his back; with the other she stroked his sweat dampened hair away from his brow. His softening cock still held within her depths.
Replete, he rested in this safe haven, not wanting to move, to break the connection. As if reading his thoughts, she whispered. “Sleep there a while, my love.”
Removing the hand from his head long enough to gather the quilt that had been pushed aside and lay it across their joined bodies. He drifted into sleep, held and comforted in the knowledge that he was truly home.
He woke to the sun breaking through the curtains. He was back in his old room. A hand on his comforter he stroked a little and brought his hand to this face. He could smell the love making on his hands and was thrilled with the prospect of the day to come. Earlier that night he had kissed her on the cheek and made his way back to his old room. He wanted them both to get a full sleep. He could hear movement beyond the bedrooms and he dressed in the dressing gown he used the night before, landing inside the kitchen he was greeted by a bright:
“Good morning sleepyhead, come kiss your Mum, my wonderful man.”
She was leaning against the rail of the range, her damp, freshly washed hair curling slightly at the ends, face glowing, eyes sparkling. Her dressing gown loosely tied at the waist, she looked resplendent. He crossed the room to stand in front of her, bending his head he kissed her lightly on the lips.
“Good morning.”