My Life is about to change

A Weekend all to Ourselves

Saturday morning light came through the curtains like a slow pour of honey.

The house held that particular silence that only exists when children are gone - no cartoon voices from the living room, no small feet padding down the hallway, no demands for cereal. Just the hum of the ceiling fan and the sound of Simon breathing beside me.

I was floating somewhere between sleep and waking when I felt it.

Fingers. Soft, barely-there pressure tracing the curve of my calf.

My mind registered the sensation before my body could react. Simon's touch - I'd know it anywhere, the slight roughness on his fingertips from years of woodworking projects, the deliberate slowness of a man who'd learned patience. I kept my breathing steady, my eyes closed.

Stay still. Let him.

His fingers drifted higher, skimming the sensitive skin behind my knee. A shiver threatened to betray me. I fought it, pressing my tongue against the roof of my mouth, focusing on the weight of my limbs against the mattress.

The fingers climbed.

Over my thigh now, tracing lazy circles that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up. My cotton pajama shorts did nothing to dull the heat of his hand. He paused there, palm resting flat against my skin, and I could feel him watching my face. Testing. Wondering if I was awake.

I let my lips part slightly. Let my breathing stay soft and rhythmic.

He traced the hem of my shorts, one finger dipping just beneath the elastic. Then higher - over the cotton, over my hip, pressing into the soft give of my belly. The fabric of my tank top had ridden up in the night. His fingers found bare skin.

Oh.

My pulse kicked hard enough that I was sure he'd see it in my throat.

His hand spread wide across my stomach, warm and possessive. Then up, skimming my ribs with a touch so light it almost hurt. His thumb brushed the underside of my breast and I felt my nipple tighten. Still I kept my eyes shut, my breathing even through sheer force of will.

"Renée."

His voice was a whisper, rough with morning. I didn't answer ... I wanted to enjoy it for longer ... much longer ... I knew exactly where this would be leading to ...

His fingers traced back down, skimming the sensitive skin of my body - ribs, belly, hip - and then back between my thighs, touching me sofly like a feather. Getting my juices flowing.

Back up again his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of my shorts. No underwear. I'd been too warm last night and too tired. Now my pulse hammered between my legs.

He touched me like he was reading braille.

One finger traced the seam of my folds, and I heard his breath catch. Mine nearly did too. I was already slick, already opening for him, and we hadn't even kissed yet. His finger slid deeper, parting me, finding the exact spot that made my hips want to tilt upward.

I let them tilt. Just a little. Just enough to press myself against his hand.

He made a sound - low in his throat, almost pained - and his finger circled my clit with the precision of a man who'd studied this body for nine years. Who knew that the second circle should be slower than the first, and the third should barely exist at all.

A moan escaped me. I couldn't help it.

"Is my wife awake now?"

I opened my eyes.

Simon was propped on one elbow, his dark hair a disaster, stubble shadowing his jaw. His eyes - that particular shade of hazel that shifted between green and brown depending on the light - were fixed on my face with an intensity that made my stomach drop.

"Maybe," I whispered.

His finger pressed deeper. "Maybe?"

"Yes." The word came out breathy, desperate. "Yes, I'm awake."

He kissed me then, morning breath and all, and I didn't care. His mouth was warm and familiar and his tongue slid against mine the same way his finger slid inside me, and I reached for him, my hands finding the broad planes of his back, pulling him closer.

"I love you," I said against his mouth.

"I love you too." He pulled back just enough to look at me. "I want you."

"You have me."

We shed clothes like teenagers - urgent, graceless, laughing when his foot tangled in the sheet. Then he was naked above me, and I wrapped my hand around his cock, feeling the familiar weight and heat of him. He was hard of course, the skin velvet-soft over steel.

I leaned over and took him in my mouth.

His hand fisted in my hair. "God, Renée."

I worked him slowly, deliberately. The salt taste of him, the way his thighs tensed under my palm, the soft groan he made when I took him deep - I catalogued every sensation, every reaction. After nine years and two kids, this was still something that could undo him. Could undo us both.

"Come here." His voice was strained. "I need to be inside you."

I straddled him, facing him, and the sight of him beneath me - chest flushed, eyes dark, lips parted - made me ache. I positioned myself over him, feeling the head of his cock press against my entrance.

I lowered myself to the hilt in one motion.

The fullness was immediate and overwhelming. My head fell back. My hands braced on his chest. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't think - there was only this, only him stretching me open, filling every inch of me.

"Look at me," he said.

I did.

His hands found my hips, gripping hard enough to leave marks, and then he was moving me. Lifting me, pulling me down, setting a rhythm that was harder and faster than our usual morning sex. This wasn't lazy Saturday lovemaking. This was something hungrier.

"Our neighbors," I gasped, remembering the open windows, the other kids who'd been in the pool yesterday.

"Don't care." His hips bucked up into me. "Let them hear."

He flipped us suddenly, my back hitting the mattress, and then he was driving into me with a force that made the headboard knock against the wall. I grabbed the sheets. I grabbed his shoulders. I grabbed anything I could reach as he fucked me with abandon, his breath hot against my neck.

Then he pulled out and I made a sound of protest that turned into a gasp as his mouth found me,foud my pussy ...

He licked into me with the same intensity he'd just been fucking me with. His tongue circled my clit - three times fast, then slow, that pattern I'd told him about years ago and he'd never forgotten. My thighs clamped around his head. My hands fisted in his hair. I was so close I could taste it, that edge so sharp and sweet.

"Not yet," I managed.

He stopped immediately, looking up at me with wet lips. "No?"

"Behind me. I want you sideways from beh... " I couldn't finish the sentence, but he understood. He always understood my favorite position.

He positioned me on my side, him behind me, and slid back inside with one long stroke that made us both groan. This angle was different - deeper somehow, more intimate - one leg way up in the air. His arm wrapped around my waist, his chest pressed against my back, and I reached down between my legs.

My fingers found where his cock, sliding in and out of me, slick and hot. I gripped him there, feeling the slide of him through my own fingers, and that was it.

The orgasm hit me like a wave I hadn't seen coming. I cried out - some word, maybe his name, maybe nothing - and my body clenched around him so hard that he gasped. Colors bloomed behind my closed eyes. My legs shook. Everything tightened and released and tightened again.

"Renée." His voice was ragged. "I'm going to ... "

"No, not yet, wait ... I want to ride you."

I pulled off him and pushed him onto his back, then straddled him again - this time backwards, facing his feet. I grabbed his ankles.

His cock filled me at a new angle that made me bite my lip. I rode him slowly, deliberately, my hips rolling in circles, giving him a showwhere my pussy sliding up and down his cock.

With one hand I reached between my legs to stroke his testicles.

He groaned. His palms spread across my ass, fingers digging in.

I leaned back against his chest, changing the angle again. The tip of his cock pressed against something inside me that made lights pop behind my eyes.

I focussed on the sight of my pussy lips swallowing his cock ...

I was still sensitive from coming, still trembling. This sight and this position made every stroke feel like almost-too-much.

"Fuck," I breathed. "Simon ... I'mm ..."

His hands found my hips. "Yes ... cum with me."

I bore down on him, gripping him with every muscle I had, and he thrust up into me one last time. We came together - his release hot inside me, my pussy clenching around him in pulses that seemed to last forever. I felt him spill out of me even before we'd stopped moving, and I didn't care.

When I finally collapsed beside him, my head on his shoulder, my hand resting on his softening cock, I couldn't form words.

"That," he said eventually, "was great. Wow ..."

I laughed - breathless, boneless, utterly spent. "Yeah, phenomenal ... I can't remember when I ever came twice ... "

"Wonderful." His lips pressed to my forehead. "I absolutely love to feel your body shaking on my cock!"

I smiled against his skin. "I love you."

"Love you too."

I lay there for a long moment, feeling our heartbeats slow together, before I finally pushed myself up. "I need a shower."

Simon's eyes followed me. "Give me a minute."

He didn't wait a minute. I'd barely gotten the water warm before the shower door opened and he stepped in behind me. His hands found my waist, then slid up to my shoulders.

"Let me," he said, reaching for the shampoo.

He washed my hair with slow, deliberate movements, his fingers working circles into my scalp that made me want to melt. I returned the favor, soaping his chest, his back, his arms. The water sluiced between us, warm and slick.

By the time we'd rinsed, he was almost hard again.

I pushed against his chest, his back to the wall, lifted one leg and braced my foot against the shower ledge.

He entered me standing, one hand on the tile wall, the other gripping my thigh.

The water beat against my back as he fucked me with short, urgent strokes. My pussy felt kind of sore from the intense fucking before.

After a short while he went limp.

I kissed him. "That was the best wake up since very long. Thank you for being so tender. Love you!"

We got out of the shower. I handed him a towel and got one myself.

After a rich breakfast we discussed what to have for the weekend. As this Saturday it was only us, we decided to go out for dinner to our favorite Italian, Mario's.

But we needed something for Sunday, when the kids would be back in the afternoon.

"Let's go shopping ... I think the kids would like Pizza as always." Simon smiled

We got in the car and drove to the Park City Center at the other end of Lancaster.

We took it slow and easy. I found a pretty skirt and a matching blouse. And a few briefs for Simon.

When we passed the lingerie store Simon stopped.

"Hey Renée, look at this pretty piece ... this would look beautiful on you."

We went inside. I had been in front of the windows many times but never bought anything.

We were greeted very, almost exuberant friendly. I asked whether I could try this set on.

"Of course." the sales lady said and handed me a sanitary pad.

In the cubicle, I undressed completely and slipped into the dessous set Simon had chosen, using that sanitary pad, of course. I stepped out and posed in front of the woman and Simon. My reflection in the mirror made me feel incredibly sexy.

I saw the greed in his eyes.

"Do you like it?" I asked, knowing from his expressions that he really did ...

I returned to the cabin and changed back into my normal clothes, while Simon paid.

Finally we bought the things we needed for our sunday dishes and drove back home.

The rest of the weekend went by in no time.