Sunday Morning Orgasm

I woke early that morning, around 4, and went downstairs to make coffee, finish some dishes, and then go outside. R.S. was sound asleep; I knew he wouldn’t even know I had gotten up. My outfit consisted of big boots, underwear, and three hoodies, and as I walked toward the mailbox, hearing the gravel crunch under my feet, I breathed in the chilly 38-degree air, immediately glad I was out there. I loved early morning exercise; it got my blood flowing and cleared the gunk from my head. I allowed thoughts to pass by without giving them too much attention and opened myself up to the possibility of all good coming along for today.

I continued my walk the other way, towards the rear of his property, wanting to get in the entire loop before going back inside. However, the soon-to-be reward of R.S.’s bedroom and R.S. himself enticed me, so I returned to the dark house, quietly taking my gear off in the basement and padding upstairs, stopping to brush my teeth and pee.

As I sat on the toilet, many thoughts crossed my mind, and slowly, a mischievous grin spread over my face; there was one thing I knew for sure, we’d have fantastic foreplay and sex all day, and I’d love every minute.

I wasn’t expecting a Sunday morning orgasm that would rock my world.

Read on.

I opened his bedroom door, closing it with a soft ‘click,’ immediately greeted by the gentle rhythm of his even breathing. I saw that he’d wrapped himself on one side of the bed, and I got in on the other, doing the same. The walk had invigorated me, and as I listened to R.S. sleep, I was lulled into a meditative state perfect for watching the sunrise.

As the colors moved from shades of orange, peach, and apricot to finally light blue, I could feel R.S. start to stir and then glance over at me boyishly to wish me a good morning. I loved when he did this- he got that look on his face when he saw me on the other side of his bed—such a man's man on the outside and yet sensitive and big-hearted underneath.

I watched him stretch as he made his way to the bathroom, his blue striped fruit of the looms highlighting a hard cock, tight ass cheeks, taut thighs, and a lean torso; I couldn’t wait for him to get back into bed, which he promptly did after his bathroom jaunt and without hesitation scooped me up to spoon and lazily make love.

Sitting at the kitchen island, we chat over coffee. Our conversational foreplay begins and flows as we talk about many topics batting ideas around politics, art, sex, friends, life, and anything in between. At one point, I mentioned how his eyes have different levels of blue depending on what we’re chatting about.

He asked why that might be; I said it was his passion for the topic, and his eyes changed color again, looking at me in a way I can only describe as hunger. I delay what he wants by directing the conversation to something else, ultimately distracting him and keeping him curious while we innocently have coffee.

Conversational foreplay is something that we do well. It’s a lot of fun and a great way to explore and manipulate where he and I are in our minds. When our talk turns him on, I can switch it around to prolong anticipation or tease him to the brink of wanting more right then, and, in turn, he does the same with me.

Knowing R.S. had morning chores that he liked to do a certain way, I checked my emails and did some business, eventually meeting him outside at the wood stove, where he was prepping the fire to heat the water for a hot shower later on. Taking a white cotton work glove off, he lit a joint, and we immediately jumped into talk, again quickly going from one topic to the next, and as we smoked, in between passes, he tossed wood chunks onto the coals, stuffing it full. I watched his body move effortlessly, making the wood chunks look like they weighed no more than two pounds, and when he was done, he caught my eye and held his gaze, momentarily pausing in mid-sentence.

I grinned, knowing that a sexual fantasy had flashed through his mind, and patiently waited for him to continue with his thought, not wanting to interrupt where it was going.

R.S. watched me watch him warm his gloved hands by the hot coals and, without wavering eye contact, asked me if I’d masturbate for him. I was turned on by the prospect of standing in front of a hot stove with my pants down and my underwear mid-thigh, and the possibility of being caught by a neighbor put me in a position of not saying no.

I’m a sexual voyeur- I like to watch and like it when others watch.

He knew how horny I’d be with his question; he gets me and my sex mind.

I moved next to him at the stove, pushed my black stretch pants down to knee-high boots, left my nude-colored micro-fiber boyshorts on, and shimmied my sweatshirt and tank top up to just under the curve of my breasts. My breath deepened as he moaned softly, and I watched his eyes smolder as my taut stomach muscles contracted with the cold, giving my torso sensual, defined lines with the late morning sun. Then, as though the weather was listening to our desire, a gust of wind whipped through the woodshed, and my nipples grew hard with arousal underneath the fabric of my tank top. My mouth filled with saliva at the thought of his hot mouth sucking and teasing each nipple to a pleasurable raw sensitivity.

He saw my desire and watched me with keen blue eyes while warming his gloves, not once moving to touch me, not then anyway. His need was evident through the bulge in his beige well-worn Carhart pants, and enjoying him having to shift himself, I played a bit longer, teasing his desire closer to the surface. I twisted each nipple under the fabric until they stood erect and ran one of my hands lightly over my bare tummy, circling my belly button and tracing the edge of my underwear from left to right, watching him watch me as I slipped my hand underneath, separating my pussy lips and rubbing my fingers into my wet.

I pulled my hand out and placed it lightly on R.S.’s mouth and then more insistently under his nose. His eyes closed as he breathed my scent and I pushed my underwear down to midthigh with my other hand, letting my shirts drop. He opened his eyes and I put my fingers in his mouth; telling him to suck them and get them nice and wet for me.

Fingers wet, I began coaxing my clit into gentle submission adding my saliva now to wet my pussy more, taking time to move slowly so R.S. could take in everything I was doing. Each finger had a separate task of methodically massaging the soft outer and inner lips I had purposely shaved smooth. I watched his face contort as he struggled even more with his need, his body becoming rigid, and he swallowed hard.

A dark look of unmistakable and undeniable wanton lust crossed his face.

And in one swift motion, he moved behind me pulling me close so I felt the rough fabric of his pants and his hard bulge against my ass cheeks, and placing his mouth next to my ear he whispered for me to continue. I was horny and wet and feeling good with his hands on my hips; I closed my eyes to dive deeper into my pleasure, letting go of time, space, and reality; not anticipating nor expecting what was about to happen, I melted into sensations that flowed through every part of me.

My hips moved to a fantasy scene in my head, picturing us fucking in that woodshed with someone watching us, getting off on watching us fuck, and my clit and pussy were getting wetter as I stood there, eyes closed, rubbing myself with his body pressed against me.

I felt him slide his hands away from my hips at some point, and didn't hesitate to continue my action. With my eyes still closed and continuing to bring myself to a heightened state of arousal, he caught me off guard by placing one warm gloved hand on top of my bush and the other directly in the crack of my ass.

My breath suspended on an inhale, and my spine rigid; he pulled me closer than before, his cock pressed hard on my body, and asked how I’d like to be fucked with a warm glove up my ass while I pleasured myself.

Dirty talk turns me on, and the dirtier the dirty talk, the hornier I get. R.S. knows this and provides the perfect amount of raunchiness to our sessions; this woodshed experience was no exception.

I felt my asshole relax under the warmth and slight pressure of the edge of his gloved hand as he coaxed my ass to open. Taking both hands away one final time to warm them by the hot coals, he resumed his position; one hand in front and the other separating my ass to place a gloved finger inside.

The material was warm in my ass, the sensation of heat pleasantly moving up to my clit, making me rub myself harder, wanting to cum, and as though he sensed this, he pushed the warm material into my ass deeper and began to tug at it. A moan escaped my lips, and with my hand over his, I showed him how I liked my clit rubbed, and he whispered how turned on he was that I wanted to be fucked with a glove while getting myself off in his woodshed.

I used his hand to fuck my clit and pussy, diving into my wetness and back out, matching my hips to the rhythm of the tugging of his warm glove in my ass.

The only thing that mattered was pleasure.

He felt my orgasm begin to reach its peak, and in tune with the waves of my climax, he slowly pulled and tugged the glove out as each wave of ecstasy coursed through me.

I remember having thought that there would be no turning back from this type of orgasm. Then as quick as that thought arrived, it left, and I surrendered to the encompassing sensations of bliss that gained access to every part of my being, exposing my raw, vulnerable self. I may have cried out and said things I don’t remember, yet in my eyes, it was worth every moment.

After Glow

You only go around once in this world and if you’ve got someone to share pleasure in its most authentic way, go for it, don’t hold back, and be honest about what you like, want, need, and desire.

I encourage you to expand your mind regarding foreplay and sex. This is a first; R.S. using cotton work gloves warmed by the wood stove to assist in getting me off, and with him and I having active imaginations, I know there’ll be more to experience.:)

Think outside the box. Maybe cotton gloves will be a part of your next sexual playtime session. :)~