Party. Party. Party.

So we partied.
And when we were partied out, we headed back to our room.
And we got ready for bed.
A couple of times through the day my hand had lingered on Her arse far far longer than it ever normally would, or I had grazed my hand along Her suspended strapped thigh. But by this time I was tired, and expectation had given way to apprehension and I didn’t want to engage.
And then She presented herself to me in the red bra and panties and stocking and suspenders.
And my dick swelled in front of Her.
And we uncomfortably put our arms around each other so we couldn’t see each other’s faces.
And I stroked and fondled and She responded.
I’d have been quite happy for Her to leave the stockings and sussies on, but She moved to take them off, and a difference of opinion was not something to explore.
And then we fucked.
And we both came.
All this with barely a word.

I slept little, though for largely entirely unrelated reasons. But I mused on the sex and us a lot as I lay awake.
And in the morning (after we were woken by a mobile phone accidentally left on the night before) She noticed my twitching cock and moved Her hand towards it.
Me : Really?
Her : I think so.
And we did again.

This time it was slower starting. Her pussy wasn’t ready, not relaxed or wet enough, but She aimed it at my erection nonetheless. If only She’d ever let me near it with my hands or tongue … if only!
So we started slow.
And I kept it slow.
And each time Her breaths became heavier, I pulled back, making it slower still.
And stroked.
And caressed.
And pushed harder and deeper into Her again until Her breaths became heavier again.
Then slowed.
And again.
Cycling Her pleasure.
Before stoking Her neck and thigh as softly as possible, I drove hard into Her and pushed Her up that indescribable, breathless, clenching hill.
Her : What about you?
Me : I’m fine.
And I was. I felt no particular need to soak Her with my own joy. It would have been nice if She hadn’t felt the need to ask, but I was fine.
Me : What now?
Her : We get a shower and go to breakfast? … Or do you mean more generally.
Me : More generally … More specifically.
Her : About sex?
And we talked.
The same conversation we’ve had before. Too many times.
The same conversation that brings hope.
The same conversation that makes promised to try.
The same conversation that has ended with months and months of celibacy and distance and bitterness and resignation and vicious circles too many times before.
And we said we’d try again.

Post Script
When we got home from the hotel, as we unpacked, I couldn’t help but notice that, at the bottom of Her bag, was the red torsolette.

26 Responses to “Party. Party. Party.”

  1. MySideOfTheStreet Says:

    Fingers crossed, darlin.

  2. Two things.
    God that description made me horny!
    And she was trying, she brought the torsolette!
    And well… fingers crossed on my side too. Ok, that’s three things πŸ˜‰
    Hugs and good wishes

    • There’s nothing more gratifying than fucking someone how they want to be fucked … or even better. Knowing that your description made someone else want to fuck is pretty gratifying too. (I hope you did something about it.)
      You’re absolutely right that She was trying. And it is appreciated.

    • Me, do something about it?
      I’ll point you back to my “Again!” post πŸ˜‰
      Now if I’d had someone nearby, it may have been different. But by myself? I don’t feel like doing much 😦

      Something that just struck me: is it a problem for her to have a child nearby when she fucks? Does it inhibit her? Because knowing there was going to be no child certainly seems to mean to her that she can ask for a good fuck… Did you ever talk about that?

    • In the circumstances, I’m especially glad to have made you horny. If I could lend you my fingers, tongue and dick, I would gladly do so, if just to aid your recovery. (If only I could lend them to so many of my readers. Now wouldn’t that be fun!)

      I don’t think my Wife has a problem fucking when kids are around. (As long as we’re not likely to get interupted.) It’s a valid question, in the circumstances, but I don’t think it’s a problem. I think much of it is stress, fatigue, the all to frequent emotional disconnect between us, and a relatively low libido to start with.

    • Ah, if only!
      But thanks for the thought!

      Well, if it’s stress and fatigue… then she needs to look into how to adress those issues! About the emotional disconnect… well, only you two can work at it, but it takes two to tango…
      As usual… Good luck πŸ™‚

  3. hope springs eternal, don’t give it up. πŸ™‚

  4. it sounded like a ‘great’ party !

  5. Oh, lend me, lend me! (hands way up in the air, i probably should get in line) πŸ˜‰ hmmm, hope can be a good thing, even if it is a double edged sword.

  6. I’m just happy for you and I won’t think beyond this moment and your description was gripping.

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