Polishing the Grape

One of our favorites times for lovemaking is Sunday afternoons when we allow the kids to watch a movie or listen to a book while we “take a nap.”

On one of these lazy summer Sundays, we did just that and then headed to our room, locked the door, and got right down to business. Kissing and groping, we fumbled with clothes and undressed one another. Neither of us needed any foreplay this afternoon. She grabbed my cock and pulled it toward her spread legs. I mounted her gently, and we embraced, then rocked together for a time, she massaging my chest and exploring the muscles with her fingers as my stiffened cock cleaved her sex. My thrusting grew strident, and warm wet squishing sounds whispered from under the sheets.

Then we moved to have her on top, which gave me the advantage of being able to see us in the mirror of her vanity at the foot of our bed. In the mirror, I watched her full round ass rise and fall with each thrust. I reached around and spread her thighs a bit more, so I could see her wet pussy lips slide up and down on my cock. I cupped her breasts in my hands as she sat up and leaned back, enjoying the warm softness and the stiffening nipples between my fingers. She reached behind and cupped my balls, stroking them softly with her fingers as I thrust. She smiled at my pleasure. Then leaning forward over me, she hung her tits on my face, and then reached up, cupped her left breast and held it to my mouth for me to suck and lick. Even with a mouthful, I moaned loudly. “Shhh…” she teased, “we’re supposed to be napping, remember?” I soon came in wonderful spasms, and she stayed on top as we kissed and I caressed her hips and legs.

Sometimes this is enough for us, but as we kissed, I could tell she was not finished. Her kisses were soft and long, her tongue brushed my lips, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement. She slid off and lay on her back, while I took my place prone, my head between her thighs. The fragrance coming from her sex was wonderful – musky but light – the essence of “woman.” I softly licked her labia with a broad tongue, slowly brushing aside her full and fragrant bush to reveal the waiting clit underneath. She moaned as I began to lavish long, slow licks up her vulva, dipping my tongue deep into her hole to pull up her juices, and then spreading them around and around the growing clit. My face was quickly covered with her juice, and I reveled in her sex, the slippery salty-sweetness of it all.

“Oh, this feels good,” she softly cooed.

Soon her flower had completely bloomed, and I briefly paused to admire her swelling clitoris, bright pink lips, and tight little hole dripping juices. Now I shifted focus exclusively to her button, moving around it repeatedly with a broad tongue, first lightly, then with more speed and pressure, then lightly again. Her legs fell carelessly to the sides, and her cheeks and neck were flushed with blotches of bright pink.

I kept licking and listened to her short, ragged breaths, judging from their tempo and volume when I needed to continue or change my tongue massage. Her clit grew hard and swollen – I was amazed how large! I sped up my licking, circling the swollen and quivering knob. Soon she exploded, gripping my head between her thighs. Just as she came, I thrust my tongue into her hole, feeling her vagina clench my tongue in regular spasms. I waited until the waves subsided, my lips buried in her drenched vulva. She quietly moaned several times, then giggled and relaxed.

As I moved back up to lie beside her, I whispered. “That was like polishing a grape. Your clit got huge that time.”

“Honey!” she exclaimed, surprised at my “naughty” language.
Then she sighed contentedly, grinned and said, “It DID, didn’t it?!”