Thawing Out

It's fucking cold here. Again. Being all horned up yet again, I needed Peter to warm me a bit with a snuggle before we got down to business.

How can it feel so fresh every time after 20 years of scrogging, I ask you? I mean, really.

Peter sat with his back against the headboard and I leant up against him with that glorious pocket rocket in my right hand. The coconut oil is still my favourite for glide factor, and the buzzing is just so damn good. Lying there in Peter's arms, against his warm chest, I really began to thaw out. I could feel twin points of heat blooming on my cheeks, and my clit was swelling pretty seriously in response to the vibe. Michael Buble was crooning in the background, followed by a hot song from The Thomas Crown Affair - some of my favourite sex music.

It felt like I had 3 or four mini orgasms before the big one hit, which was, of course, followed by several others once that hair trigger was activated. Yumm. Just fucking yummmm.

I slid down off of Peter, turning over to take him into my mouth, already hot and stiff. Unable to resist, I straddled him and rode him, moving my hips to get him on just the right spot inside of me. I was plenty hot now, and peeled off my tank top so he could stroke and grab my breasts and rub my nipples. I couldn't help the juices that started flowing then, but I didn't want to anyway. I don't know how many times I came. I can never keep track when there are so many. I switched back and forth between teasing little bobs that brushed my G-spot against his ridge, and hard, downward slams that drove him deep up into me. Fuck.

When I had finally spent myself (if that's the right term for a chick) he flipped me over. It's good that I'm flexible, because he lifted my legs, and folded me in half so that my knees were at my ears and my ankles up over my head. What an angle. As he drove into me, I came again. And again.

It never gets old. It's always fucking wonderful.

Back in the Saddle Again

Yummy!

Peter got home tonight and we celebrated in full Randi/Peter style. It's a little cool here these nights (blissfully so - but I'm very hot-blooded and easily chilled) so Peter warmed me up a little with the full naked body press. Somehow this became the full naked body neck-nuzzling tit-sucking press, and progressed downward to the tummy-trail-nuzzle and the clit-lick.

I thought it might be appropriate to start with an orgasm for each day Peter had been gone, but after those 4, I just didn't feel like stopping. It's a testament of how dehydrated I am that I didn't squirt when I felt what is always accompanied by squirting. It's a testament to Peter's skill, when I later managed to produce squirts anyway.

OK, so every now and then I wax instructional, and this is one of those times. I discovered today the titillation factor involved when someone else tells you you're hot, that they were checking you out, etc. Seriously. I mean, Peter says this, too, and I believe he's sincere, but it's possible, is it not, that he's the only one who is attracted to my quirky self. I mean, it's not like I've ever been hit up for a phone # or anything. Well, by someone I didn't know. ^_^

I know some of this could be a product of my lucking out as massively as I have and meeting Peter before I was really "on the scene" so to speak. Maybe having multiple dates, boyfriends (and rejections) would have endowed me with more self-confidence in this area. Or maybe not.

What I do know, is that finding out that someone thinks you're hot is a massive turn-on.

So, back to the sex. Peter did plenty of expert licking while I basked and soaked it up. I know I got very, VERY creamy. Finally it was buzzer time, and OMG, there is just something about that thing. It never gets old. Never. So, yeah, after the first 4 orgasms, there were more, because why not? And then we moved to the Sky Chair, which is just divine.

I licked and sucked Peter's delicious cock for a bit, but not too much, since it had been four days for him as well (as far as I know ^_^ ) and then I had to have him inside me. I buzzed my clit with Peter inside me and came several more times. I felt a little selfish, but Peter was having fun, too, so I had a few more.

After I switched off the buzzer, Peter let me dicktate the pace. I held onto his hips and moved myself back and forth on his cock, so that his heavenly ridge rubbed me in just the right place. And then the juices started flowing. More orgasms. I don't really know how many, and then Peter was leaning in and kissing me and thrusting hard, hard, harder. Another orgasm as Peter came inside of me, and even more when he withdrew and slid his cock around on my clit, entered me again, and rubbed me yet again.

Yes, it was a religious experience.

Holy fuck.

Like a Fucking River in Flood

I'm fucking glowing.

I find it so fucking hot that after 17 years of marriage, we are still on our fucking honeymoon.

I still crave your hard cock splitting me open (OMG I am so wet for you) thrusting into me, fucking banging me, filling me.

I'm a little shocked at how much liquid I can produce as you pump me. It's like you turn on my tap or something. Smoke, Baby; Smoke, Baby. Or maybe Float, Baby; Float Baby.

I've been too busy glowing after sex to post for quite a while. But no more. I must let you know the extent of my appreciation. I feel so well reamed, so filled up, so thoroughly fucked I can't stop grinning. I'm wet all over. I had to mop up my legs with a towewl when you'd finished with me, and the one under me was soaked. My tank top is drenched with my come on one side. I know you're basted in my juices, too. I can't believe how many times you made me come even after you were finished. Fuck, it was good. I can't even do it justice yet, I'm so busy glowing. Float, Baby; Float, baby. . .