Selena Kitt - Quickies

I don't know how he knows, but he knows. He has to move his hands to hold my bucking hips, and I lift my own breasts, resuming his work there, rolling, tugging, as if I could pull my orgasm right out of my nipples.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, baby, I can't-" I don't even know what I'm saying, but he knows I can, because he's not stopping, never stopping, sending me further over, over, until I can't hold on at all and there's a momentary sense of falling, and then I am, freefall, out into nothing and everything all at once.

"Oh god I'm-" But he knows, eagerly devouring every inch of me, taking me there and keeping me there, shuddering in his arms, my cunt spasming again and again with my climax against the wet lap of his hungry tongue. There's no time, no space, no breath, I am simply feeling, flying, completely lost in that moment.

"What were you saying about not coming?" He chuckles, kissing my thighs as I shiver my way down to earth.

"Shut up." I squeeze his head gently with my thighs, flexing them, sticking out my tongue.

"You know, it's not about forcing you…" He kisses his way up my belly. "Or making you…"

"No?" He kisses my breasts, too sensitive now, making me gasp.

"It's about surrender."

I stop trying to look over his shoulder at the clock and meet his eyes in the early morning light. The dawning isn't just there, outside, over the horizon. "Well… learn something new every day."

"Every day?" He grins and kisses me. "Promises, promises."

The alarm goes off, the final snooze, and the day officially begins…

Jake had made a decision-his wife's luscious, pale, creamy flesh deserved more than just an occasional brush with satin and lace. He knew it was just their hectic schedules. Her drawers reflected the chaos of their life. Literally. She had her "period"

panties and her regular panties-and there were only a few pairs of nice panties, worn on "special occasions," those ones tucked in the way back.

He lifted the criss-cross fishnet bodystocking out of the box on the bed-all sexy black trim with the tag still dangling from the edge. He gently pulled off the plastic tab and smiled, knowing it was just her size. Tucking the tag into his pants pocket, he traced the seam where the legs of the fine, black material met.

Crotchless.

The thought made him hard.

He put it back into the box with the rest of her surprises, jumping when he heard the door slam downstairs. "Dad?"

"Don't come up! I'll be right down!"

His daughter's defiant tread pounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time as she always did, as if something special waited for her at the top.

Note to self: tell the seventeen year old the opposite of whatever you want her to do.

Jake edged out of the bedroom, shutting the door and meeting Brynn at the top of the stairs. She blew a long wisp of bright red hair out of her eyes as she smiled up at him.

"Can I sleep over at Tina's tonight?" She gave him a one-armed hug as she slipped by.

"Sure." He started, surprised at how well that had worked out, although he shouldn't have been. It was the weekend, after all, and she seemed to spend every waking moment attached at the hip to her best friend. "Your mother and I planned a night alone."

"Ewwwwww." Brynn wrinkled her freckled nose, and Jake smiled. She looked exactly like her mother when she did that.

"Hurry up!" he called back over his shoulder as he turned the corner toward the kitchen. Jake leaned against the counter, wondering how Rachel was going to react.

Just the thought of her opening the box he'd left on the bed made his pants feel too tight again. He shifted, getting the bottle of wine from the counter.

He set up two glasses and sat down at the table, willing his heart to stop beating so fast. The headlights of Rachel's Intrepid appeared on the garage door, and he smiled, imagining her gathering up her purse, her bag with all her lesson plans. It was such a sweet moment of anticipation, the time between knowing she was home and waiting for her to appear.

The side door opened and she swept in, unslinging purses and bags from her shoulder and hanging them over a kitchen chair. "You won't believe the stuff I have to do this weekend. I hate this new policy. Homework for kindergartners is-uh, what's this?"

Rachel stood staring at the glasses and the wine and looked up at him. Jake had used the corkscrew when he got home, careful to avoid some unmasculine display, just in case. He uncorked the bottle and began to pour them each a glass.

"It's a special occasion." He offered her a glass of wine.

"It is?" She lifted the glass to her nose.

He waiting, watching her sip it, her eyes surprised as she took her first taste. "It's good, isn't it?"

"Yes… but what's the occasion?" Rachel sat at the kitchen table, toeing off her heels. As often as she complained about them, she still wore them, and Jake liked imagining her standing in front of a classroom of kindergarteners in those heels.

Brynn bounded down the stairs, interrupting the moment, swinging a bag over her shoulder as she kissed Jake's cheek and then her mother's. "I'll be at Tina's — bye!"

Like a whirlwind she was gone and they were alone again.

Rachel raised her eyebrows at him. "Special occasion?"

Jake took a gulp of his wine. "Go look upstairs."

"What did you do?" Rachel stood and set her glass on the counter.

"Let's just say it's…naughty…" He stood, too, and put his arms around her waist, kissing the creamy part in the middle of her auburn hair. She raised her eyes to meet his and Jake felt an urge kiss her full, perfect mouth in a way he never had before-he wanted to smear her pale pink lipgloss over her face and grind his hips into hers until she gasped.

She was so naturally beautiful, her eyes like green glass, her cheeks already slightly pink at the mention of what she termed "naughty stuff." It was an endearing term, and she was dear to him, her lush curves still as breathtaking as they'd been the day he married her.

"Go look!"

She relented, grabbing her shoes and flashing him a bewildered smile as she passed. He thought of her sifting through the delicate material, discovering each like a veiled secret, layers of thin, airy material he anticipated showing her deliciously rich shape to full advantage. His pants were enormously tight, now, the anticipation almost too much, and he drained another glass of wine in one shot.

"Jake…" Rachel called to him, her voice different, throaty. He straightened, putting his glass down on the counter and heading through the kitchen door. He stopped when he turned the corner and looked up the stairs, seeing her wearing nothing but the body stocking and a pair of heels — the very same ones she stood and taught kindergarten in every day.

"Oh my god…" Jake didn't have any more words. Her pale, creamy flesh showing through the fine mesh had all of his attention.

"Like it?" She cocked her head, her hair spilling like fire over her exposed, generous breasts, and smiled. "I sure do…"

Jake didn't answer. He bounded eagerly up the stairs. This time he, too, took them two at a time, knowing there was most definitely something special waiting for him at the top.

"I don't believe in God." Dawn heard his words, but she didn't believe them. He was the most spiritually connected person she had ever met.

"I see God when you fuck me," she whispered, dancing her fingers over his belly, clammy now with sweat from their lovemaking, her own belly showing a fine, matching sheen.

"What does he look like?" She could hear the smile in his voice, teasing her. "Old white guy with a beard and staff standing at the gates of heaven?"