Amy In Her Robe, With Cleavage

Amy wore this last night.  She worked on her laptop, but had the first sexy nightie I ever saw her in tucked underneath her robe.  Absentmindedly, or perhaps for practical reasons, she kept the marker that she was using tucked into he cleavage, as you can see here.

Tantalizing.

We went to bed without incident, but later in the dark of the night, I awoke, and she was, as always, naked beside me in bed, facing away from me.  Soft, warm, feminine; and very easy to touch.  I stroked her back a little, then reached around and found her breasts.  I’d been playing with her breasts the night before, both before and after we went to bed, and now I found them deliciously soft, and cupped one in my hand, its nipple a firm bulge pressed against my palm.

I’ve mentioned before how her nipples are always at least partially erect.  On rare occasions they have laid low and smooth on her breasts, but almost always I find them perky and ready.  If she goes without a bra, her nipples always make themselves known.

I played with her nipple, gently squeezing it in my palm, between the lines of my hand.  The lifeline, the heartline, I forget which is which but I used that crevasse to fold around her nipple and press it, making it firmer.

Only when Amy is asleep do I get uncomplaining initial access to her breasts.  Awake, the moment I touch them she flinches, or says “No,” and tries to get away.  It’s an instinct with her, with her nipples so sensitive, that she recoils from invasion.  Even in the middle of intense sexual play, she objects every time I move my focus to her breasts.

Naturally, I therefore touch her breasts at every opportunity.

Dropping my mouth to her nipple brings out a long litany of “no no no no no no no no,” like a Greek chorus of disapproving Gregorian monks; the words rising and falling in a beautiful, sensual  rhythm controlled by the pressure of my lips.  A simple bite elicits a delightful shriek, and often humor, as she twists away with her nipple clamped between my teeth.  “Don’t hurt yourself,”  I’ll say, but it rarely works.  I’ll do the same with her nipple gripped firmly between my thumb and forefinger, telling her not to hurt herself, and yet, invariably, she writhes and squirms and wrenches her nipple cruelly.  My hand, of course, is unmoving.  Unrelenting, if you like, but still, it is her own movements that bring her the discomfort I enjoy.

Asleep, I have perhaps twenty seconds to lightly play with her breasts before she semi-wakes and tried to get away, or at the very least complain.  On this night, she is sleeping more soundly, or my touch is lighter, and I have several minutes of handling her soft breasts, her nipples fully firm in my hands as she sleeps.

When at last she does begin to stir, I slide my hand quickly down her back and between her legs, gripping her pussy.  She gives a little cry as I yank her ass up beside me in the bed, her body bent at the waist, and press my cock into her.

I hold her thigh with one hand, and with the other I press on her back, between her shoulder blades, keeping her bent.  I find my rhythm inside her body, as she makes little noises of dismay.  Amy likes her sleep, and doesn’t yield willingly in the night, but of course yield she does.  She moans something about being asleep, like it was relevant, and I continue to enjoy her body.

I am not gentle.

I let go of her thigh, and cup a breast, then massage both breasts roughly, first with one hand, then the other.  Lying on our sides, her facing away, I take her hips in my hands and drill myself into her.

She feels good.

There are times when I plan to make Amy cum, there are plans when I intend to cum and not let her, and then there are times when I have no plans at all.  I’m just fucking her.  And here I had no plan, except that I knew I was fucking her for my sake, and any enjoyment she could find from the whole experience was for her to glean herself.  I had other concerns.

At one point, I have to pin her hands away from her body to stop her from trying to protect her breasts.  I have free reign then, to explore her nipples as gently or cruelly as I like.  On this occasion, I do both.

I rise to my knees, and reach between her legs, hoisting her ass into the air, and with her suddenly on all fours, I enter her from behind.  I grip her hips, grab her breasts, and at times her shoulders, as I penetrate her repeatedly.

I grab her hips, pull out of her and then twist her to the left, flipping her onto her back. I grab an ankle, and yank her towards me, then move between her thighs and continue.  She begs for a drink of water from the nightstand, but I refuse to let her have any.  I like the idea of her suffering from thirst as I fuck her, and continue.

Eventually, I roll off her, to rest a moment, and Amy, who has not been silent through this, begins to beg for permission to cum.

I grant her permission, and play with her nipples and whisper in her ear what a little slut she is while she cums.

After she cums, I re-enter her, and fuck her while she moans something about being too tired.  Her body is delicious; wonderful to be inside, and I feel her sweat slicked skin damp against mine as I fuck her.  She makes sounds now, inadvertently, with each thrust into her.  She is clearly exhausted, and just being fucked, waiting for it to end.

Eventually, it does.