9 comments/ 22884 views/ 5 favorites Better Than It's Ever Been By: Js_Keeper It was the first time in our eight years of marriage that Mitch had bought lingerie for me, so it's arrival that Valentines Day afternoon by express delivery from a rather exclusive upscale lingerie store caught me completely off guard, and, frankly, it left me feeling a little skeptical. I was never one much for the pretentious celebrations that surrounded Valentines Day, a holiday which I was convinced was nothing more than a commercial fabrication, and one which had passed little noticed at our house for the past five years. Sitting at our kitchen table I gently lifted the mysterious gift from its elegant packaging to discover a beautiful sheer ruby red chemise. I had to admit it was gorgeous, even if it wasn't something I would have chosen for myself. Exquisitely crafted of silky-soft, deep red, fine-denier nylon, so whisper-thin as to be almost completely transparent, it was delicately framed with tiny black satin piping and an intricate black lace hem. Sophisticated and luxurious, yet definitely sexy, this was completely unique to my meager lingerie collection, which at that point largely consisted of comfy cotton PJs and a few oversized sleep shirts. Despite its elegance, it wasn't the kind of thing I was ever very comfortable in. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that my husband had obviously gone to a lot of trouble and expense, I probably would have abjectly refused his request that I greet him at the door that evening wearing it and it alone. So I convinced myself that in light of the "special" day I should at least accommodate his desire to see it on me. Truthfully, the thought of donning this object of decadence in broad daylight caused my face to flush, probably to a shade not far from that of the chemise itself. I consoled myself that as soon as he got a good look I'd dash off to change back into something less revealing, something that was more "me," Valentines Day or not. That was my plan anyway. All afternoon, as I pondered the uncharacteristic gift, I vacillated between doubt and anticipation, between nervousness and excitement. His instructions to me that morning were clear and the message on my cell phone voicemail unambiguous, if even a bit brusque. "There's a Valentines gift arriving for you today. I want you wearing it when I get home - it and nothing else. I'll be home at the usual time, so be ready." Mitch had never been one to display much interest or aptitude in the art of seduction, and I had so lowered my expectations along that line that the day's turn of events left me feeling as if a strange fog had suddenly settled over me. Who was this intriguing man of mysterious messages and exotic gifts, and what had he done with my husband? Still, despite the unsettled feeling inside, my sense of expectancy grew steadily from the time I opened the stylish black and white box, until at long last I found myself slipping out of my clothes and into the gown a full ninety minutes ahead of my husband's usual arrival time. It was just as luxuriously soft on my body as I had expected, but even more see-through. As the afternoon sun streamed into my bedroom, lighting my silhouette from behind, I stood in front of my dresser mirror feeling practically naked. Though I was certainly impressed by the attractiveness of the finely crafted lingerie, I couldn't seem to overlook my many flaws that were left in plain view by its translucence. Fear over Mitch's potential disappointment soon welled up, and I went to my closet for the comfortable concealment of my long terrycloth robe. Safely covered, I padded restlessly about our apartment, passing the time on nothing in particular and anything that would keep my mind occupied. The closer the clock ticked toward six thirty the more anxious I became, worried that Mitch would regret the expensive gift once he saw it on me. At 6:10 I stood again before my dresser mirror and peeled off my robe. Turning side to side, pinching every excess inch of flesh on my thirty-eight-year-old body, I couldn't help but worry about Mitch's pending reaction. I plopped down on our over-worn living room couch to wait for him. I idly picked up my cell phone from the end table and, after my third game of Tetris, listened again to his message of instruction from that morning. I'd lost track of how many times I had done so that day. There was an edge of insistence and desire in his voice that was unrecognizable in my mild-mannered man. My heart thudded in my chest, and the fog settled over me afresh as I waited, squirming in the seat from pose to pose: demure to seductive to downright sexy. How should I wait for him? How would he want me to wait? Should I stand when he enters or stay seated? I had to admit to myself that my skills of seduction were no better than Mitch's. I startled when I heard his keys in the lock, settling back into an awkwardly conservative position, legs crossed at the knee, hands neatly folded in my lap. Sitting like a schoolgirl -- dressed more like a call girl. My heart raced madly with anticipation as Mitch stepped through the doorway. Without speaking a word, he set down his briefcase and removed his jacket, managing to hang it on the hook near the door without taking his eyes off me for a second. A broad, slightly wicked smile came over his face as he strolled slowly toward me, drinking me in with his eyes every step of the way. I sat still in awkward silence, watching him and waiting for him to say something. Anything. Instead he stood before me, leaned down and drew my hands from my lap, pulling them apart, obviously wanting to get a better look at the brilliant red Valentine gift that adorned my body. Though my embarrassment forced my eyes to the floor, I felt his stare. After what seemed like several long, uncomfortable minutes, he pulled me suddenly to my feet and then stepped away, I supposed in order to more thoroughly look me over from head to toe. When I instinctively crossed my arms timidly in front of my chest, he reached up and firmly pulled them down to my sides. His fingers lifted my chin until my eyes at last met his, and I saw there his obvious desire. I didn't know if I was offended or turned on or both, but something raged inside me. As I watched his eyes roam freely and intentionally over my body, I felt more exposed to him than ever before, so completely naked, despite the gown, and so deeply vulnerable. What was he thinking? How was he feeling about what he saw? I wanted to believe what I discerned in his wry smile and fiery eyes, but I couldn't push through my deeply held self-doubt. In fact, it took every ounce of self-control I could muster just to remain still and silent before the intensity of his gaze. At last he spoke. "My god, Carly, you are so beautiful." I deflected his compliment, looking down and stroking the frilly folds of the chemise. "Yes, it is lovely isn't it? Thank you. But I didn't get you any..." "No," he replied firmly, interrupting me mid-sentence. "I said YOU are beautiful. Sure the gown is pretty and all, but it's the woman under it that makes it so incredibly amazing. You are one totally sexy woman." I wasn't buying a word of it, and an uncontrollable smirk came over my face, which I'm certain didn't escape Mitch's roaming eyes. He took my hand and gently led me around the coffee table to the center of the living room. "Stand there and be still," he instructed in a direct but kindly tone. I crossed my arms for only a brief second before remembering that it was an unacceptable gesture and dropped them to my sides. He shuffled deliberately about me, twice traversing an entire three-hundred-sixty-degree circle at a distance that allowed him to see the length of my body from all sides. Despite my deep discomfort, I stood as directed, feeling self-conscious and exposed, my shoulders slumped slightly forward, my gaze fixed on the floor in front of me again. Where was my soft terry robe when I needed it? Whereas normally I would have vehemently protested such blatant objectification, something compelled me to silence, as if in a trance. Mitch stopped right in front of me, and I assumed he was continuing his assessment. I felt an increasing tightness in my chest. I wanted to run or scream or slug him or something, I didn't know what, yet there I remained before him. "This is hard for me," I finally managed to mumble softly, still unable to look up at him. "What's hard about receiving a beautiful Valentine gift and having your husband adore your lovely body in it?" he asked somewhat incredulously. I couldn't answer. I didn't know how to answer. I couldn't remember that last time Mitch had paid me even a passing compliment on my appearance. And this sudden deliberate attention left me reeling in uncertainty. Besides, how could he be serious about adoring my body? I hated it, and I assumed he at least held it in mild disdain. Why else his years-long silence on the subject? I was certain it was the extra pounds around my hips and tummy, the slight droop that had developed in my breasts. And my legs and buttocks didn't nearly have the taut shape they once did. He couldn't really mean what he was saying. But why was he doing this? "Look at me, Carly," he interrupted my self-loathing. I reluctantly lifted my eyes to meet his. He smiled sweetly at me, and his charming eyes crinkled a bit at the corners -- something I'd stopped noticing years ago. He spoke softly while our eyes were locked together. "It's finally dawned on my thick skull just how far we'd been drifting apart, how we'd let the distance grow bit by bit over the years. It was subtle at first, and maybe neither of us even realized it was happening. We got busy and distracted. We settled into a comfortable routine of living increasingly separate lives. And now we are living like more like roommates than lovers." I nodded in agreement, unable to respond verbally. I was certain the lump in my throat was damming an unstoppable flood of tears that I dared not unleash. He was speaking almost the very words I'd cried into the phone with my sister the week before. I wondered briefly if Claire had called Mitch and told him how worried I was about our marriage. Maybe she even warned him that I was precipitously close to having an affair with an attractive young man who'd been coming on to me at the food bank where I'd been volunteering for a few months. I loved the feelings the male attention stirred in me, and although I hadn't yet acted on it, I did little to discourage his obvious flirting. It was a dangerous situation, and I loved it. "How could I have ignored how beautiful you are, Carly?" He said sincerely. "How could I have forgotten how much in love with you I am?" I felt a wet tear streak down my left cheek, followed by one on my right. "You are?" I managed to squeak out, my voice cracking slightly. It wanted to believe it was true. He took a step toward me and cupped my face in his hands, gently wiping the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. "Yes," he said emphatically yet lovingly. He drew my face to his and kissed me lightly on the lips. It was the most tender, loving kiss I could remember ever receiving, full of powerful electricity despite its teasing lightness. I had just begun to kiss him back when he released my face and stepped back away, leaving my lips desperately unfulfilled. "I want you to know that things are going to be very different now," he said, the look on his face suddenly serious. "Very different." He began to circle me slowly again and proceeded to explain before I even had a chance to consider the meaning of his sweeping statement. "I realize that I've neglected you badly, that I haven't made you or our relationship a priority in a long time. I'm an idiot for the way I've treated you. I realize that I haven't been the man you want and need. And I realize that I've let our sex life slide to almost nothing, accepting that it's just what happens when you've been married as long as we have. I gave up on us. I gave up on you, and I was wrong." "Well I haven't been exac--," I tried to add my apology to his, but he quickly interrupted me again. "No!" he insisted. "Let me finish before you respond. I've got more that needs to be said." He stopped circling me and approached me from behind. I started to turn to face him, but he grabbed my shoulders and forcibly kept me facing away. He moved his hands to my waist and leaned into me as he spoke softly in my ear. "I woke up in the middle of the night two nights ago and couldn't get back to sleep. I was restless for a long while. The moon was bright and the blinds weren't drawn very tight. Then at one point I rolled over and there was this soft glow of moonlight on your face. You looked so beautiful, almost angelic, and out of nowhere my heart suddenly flooded with an acute awareness of the love I've always had for you. I knew I risked waking you, but I had to touch your lovely face. You stirred a little as I gently stroked your cheek and pressed yourself against me. Just the touch of your skin on mine sent shockwaves through me. It was electric - completely surreal and magical. Something was suddenly calling me back to you, as if from inside you. I know it sounds weird, but it was very real and very strong." Mitch's hands moved to tiny twin straps of satin on my shoulders and gently peeled them down to the tops of my arms. His fingers danced lightly over my naked shoulders and upper arms, tracing a delicate path. After several passes his touch continued slowly all the way down my arms as they hung at my sides, until his hands met mine, and our fingers intertwined. He gently squeezed my hands. "I wanted you, Carly, and I found myself suddenly so turned on that I could hardly stand it. I wanted to wake you and take you and for us to get lost in passion together. But then I realized how completely out of the blue that would have been, and I knew how offended you'd be if I tried anything like that. And it made me really sad. Really sad. "I propped myself up against the headboard and just watched you sleep, listening to you breathe, for the longest time. I tried to remember the last time we made love, and I couldn't. I got sadder. I tried to remember the last time we had more than an hour together of uninterrupted time, just so we could be together. I couldn't remember that either. My heart was sinking deeper by the minute." As I listened to him describe the abysmal state of our marriage, a knot developed in the pit of my stomach, and an awkward mix of emotions swirled around in my head. On the one hand I felt guilty, knowing I too had withdrawn from him over time. On the other hand I wanted to defend myself and blame him for everything. Yet somehow hearing him describe his desire for me as he watched me sleep that night made me want to throw myself into his arms and beg him to take me, as he had wanted to do that night. My feelings were conflicting and unclear, so I was thankful I could withhold my comments until he was finished, as he'd requested. Still holding my hands in his, he wrapped his arms around my front, taking my arms with his, pulling me firmly back against his strong chest. I felt suddenly warm and safe in his arms, a strange and unfamiliar feeling. As he continued, it was as if he was reading my thoughts. "At first I tried to get mad at you and blame you for the state of things with us. I told myself that you'd lost interest in me, that you'd grown cold and distant. But my case against you began to fall apart as I though about all the times I'd worked through dinner without calling, all the times I was too busy to call or email you during a business trip, all the times I stayed up late working or watching TV instead do going to bed with you. My heart broke as I suddenly realized that through all those actions and inactions I was telling you that I didn't love you, that I didn't want you, that you weren't attractive to me any more. I had, in effect, pushed you away, so how could I be surprised that you'd withdrawn? I take the responsibility for letting things get so distant between us. That night, watching you sleep, I decided that I would also take the responsibility for drawing us back together. And I decided what better time to start than today, Valentine's Day, the day of lovers." His lips found the nape of my neck and he kissed it softly for what felt like a very long time. My knees began to weaken, and if he hadn't been holding me so tightly I might have collapsed. His hands released mine and slid slowly up from my waist until they found my breasts, covered only thinly by the sheer gown. He cupped them lightly in his hands, but I couldn't tell if the warm surge I felt in my chest was from the heat of his hands or the fire he was stirring within me. I was beginning to believe that what Mitch said was right: things really were going to be different now. I believed that he really did love me and want me like he said. I even believed that maybe somehow I was calling out to him from my sleep that night. I knew it was all true. And I knew that I loved and wanted him just as much as he did me. The love that was welling up inside me combined wonderfully with the physical sensations of his hands lightly massaging my breasts and his body pressed against me from behind, and I felt myself slipping into a desperate kind of desire. I was becoming more turned on by the second, and I knew if I were going to say anything, it would need to happen quickly, before I became totally lost in the sexual excitement of the moment. "May I say something now?" I managed to say, almost groaning. His lips left my neck only long enough to say, "Yes." As his mouth and hands continued to work magic on my body I had to force myself to think clearly. "It's not all your fault," I said weakly. "I punished you for not paying attention to me like I wanted you too. I got angry, but I never really confronted you. I was hurt, but I never admitted it. I tried to be strong and independent, like I thought a woman should be, but it only made me lonely and sad. I'm sorry, Mitch. I'm really sorry." He stopped kissing my neck and moved his hands to my hips. He spun me around so suddenly that I almost lost my balance, but his hands steadied my hips again, this time as I stood facing him. He stared deeply into my eyes, his eyes filled as much with love and kindness as they were with desire and passion. I was desperate for a kiss, but he was clearly in command of the moment, and I had no desire to take control back from him. He spoke firmly, yet gently. "We've both made mistakes, but the bottom line is this: I let it happen and did nothing to fix it. And I'm not going to let it happen any more." At last I got the kiss I had been so desperately seeking. He wrapped his arms around me, one hand sliding up to mingle into the back of my shoulder-length hair and the other grasping my lower back. As he pulled my body against his I melted into his kiss, allowing my desire to rise up uncontrolled within me. It was a kiss unlike any we'd shared. So much more than the physical mingling of lips and tongues, it was the touching of souls at the deepest level. I let myself go at that moment. There would be no more holding back, no more withdrawing, no more retribution. I was completely his, and I wanted to be. My arms were wrapped desperately around his waist, pulling him to me as much as I was being pulled to him. I lost track of how long the embrace lasted. Suddenly, like before, he spun me back around to face away from him, once again pulling my hips tightly to his. He began to lightly kiss my bare shoulders, his lips tracing delightful path from one side to the other, sending tingles all the way down my spine and the backs of my legs, and fueling the warmth that was building between my legs. Better Than It's Ever Been "Do you remember the last time I kissed you like this?" he asked quietly, his lips continuing to work their magic. I unsuccessfully tried to clear my head enough to think back but drew a blank. At last I simply muttered, "No." "It was at that amazing condo we had in Aruba for our second, no third Valentines Day together. Remember it? After a long night of dancing and champagne we were standing on the balcony listening to the ocean and watching the moonlight playing on the water. I came up behind you and pulled your robe down off your shoulders enough so I could kiss you just like this. Is it coming back to you? The timing is fitting, don't you think?" He kissed back and forth once more from shoulder to shoulder. "I remember how extremely turned on we were. I remember vividly how incredible you looked standing there naked in the moonlight as you dropped your robe in a puddle around your feet. There's something about you and moonlight, babe. I remember how hot the sex was, scorching hot sex, right there on the balcony." "Yessss," I hissed, blissfully recalling that night of incredible passion and risky erotic adventure, as his lips continued caressing my naked shoulders, upper back and arms. He slipped one hand around to cup my left breast through the silky gown, simultaneously pulling me back against him while gently tweaking my nipple between his thumb and index finger. His other hand swept aside my hair, and his lips again found the nape of my neck, sending a chill through me that contrasted luxuriously with the warmth that had been steadily building in my body from his kisses, words and caresses. He whispered gently in my ear, "I want it to be like that night in Aruba again. Only, not just one night, but all the time. Every time. Not just for a Valentines Day, but every day. I want you back. I want us back. I want it to be like it's never been before." "Yessss. Yessss." It's all I could manage. His lips returned to nibble gently up toward my ear and back down to my shoulder while his hand continued playing painstakingly with my breast. I was in heaven and getting more turned on by the minute. He let my hair swing back down over my neck so he could fondle both my breasts at once. I felt his clearly aroused manhood pressing between my buns as his fingers teased lightly over the satiny material, brushing repeatedly against my engorged nipples. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, allowing all the pleasure to wash over me. "I want you, Carly, " he growled again, squeezing both my mounds tightly in his hands and kneading them with his fingers, forcing a more ardent moan from me. "Take me," I pleaded. "I'm yours." In one swift movement Mitch lifted me off the ground, forcing my legs apart and around his waist. He clutched my bare ass tightly beneath the chemise, holding me fast against him, and I crossed my ankles behind him, my thighs clamped to his hips, and wrapped my arms firmly around his neck. We kissed ferociously, a wet open-mouthed kiss, as if trying to devour each other mouth first. I was so completely lost in his embrace that I didn't realize he'd carried me across the room until he lowered me suddenly onto the couch. I gasped loudly as I sank suddenly onto the cushion, but my cry was cut short by his lips once again smothering mine. His body was pressed full upon me, forcing the breath from me. Still, I clung to him desperately, forcing him even more tightly against me, my legs and arms still wrapped about him. It was as if I couldn't get enough of him, as if I couldn't feel the weight of him upon me enough. I wanted him to consume me completely, to be totally his, never to be separated from him again -- not by anything. I had never felt such need. When his lips and body at last lifted from mine, I tried urgently to pull him back to me, but he shrugged off my grasp, not to be dissuaded from his intentions. He kissed vigorously down my neck and across my chest, untying the single bow at my plunging neckline and pushing the thin transparent material out of his way as his mouth ravished its way to my left breast. He opened wide and sucked as much of it into his mouth at once as he could before his lips clamped down upon it. He flicked his tongue quickly and roughly over my engorged nipple, causing it to swell even further into his hot mouth. I let out a loud groan of pleasure and moved my hands to the back of his head, drawing him to me, encouraging his delicious attentions. As his wonderful mouth worked furiously on my left breast, his hand moved delicately over my right one, teasing his open palm over the luxuriously soft material that still covered that side. The contrasting treatment of the two sides was mind-blowing, absolute sensual ecstasy. After several lovely minutes he switched sides, his mouth moving to the right side and his hand to the left, though this time his fingers worked over naked flesh, circling slowly over the dampness left by his mouth, narrowing gradually toward my nipple. I looked down to watch his mouth and hands work their magic on my body, and the sight only added to my pleasure. Without warning, Mitch swung himself off me into a sitting position on the couch, pulling me with him, and suddenly I found myself on his lap facing him with my legs spread over his thighs. My naked breasts stood out invitingly, jutting just inches from his face, inducing a lascivious stare from my husband. He slowly pushed the straps of the down further and peeled open the front to fully expose the objects of his obvious desire. "Have I ever told you how wonderful your breasts are?" He asked curtly. I blushed slightly and said, "No, I don't think so." "Now there's a terrible sin of omission," he chided himself teasingly. "They aren't like they were when we married," I apologized. "Hey, I'll have none of that kind of talk!" he said resolutely. He cupped both of them in his warm hands. "These belong to me and I won't have anyone saying a such things about them. They are perfect. Delicious. Beautiful. Perfect." He began to rub his thumbs back and forth over my throbbing nipples as he stared lovingly at my chest. I knew beyond a doubt that he meant everything he said, and suddenly I no longer felt self-conscious about the size or shape of my breasts. They were his and he adored them. That's all that mattered now. His mouth, tongue and fingers played on, though now more tenderly, moving up, down, around and between my mounds. When at last he finished pleasuring us both at my breasts, he sat back against the couch cushion and pulled the chemise back in place, once again covering me with the soft fabric, though truthfully its transparency left little to the imagination. Looking up at me tenderly, the back of his fingers softly brushing my cheek, he said sincerely, "It's going to be better than it's ever been, you know." "Oh, I want it to be," I gushed. "I do so want it to be." "I know I've taken pretty good care of you financially, but somewhere along the way my priorities got all messed up, and my pursuit of the almighty dollar became all-consuming. I know now how completely I've neglected you emotionally and romantically and sexually, but those days are over. I hope you are ready for it." "I'm ready," I smiled excitedly. "Starting now?" "Right now," I replied, giggling a bit. He pulled my face down to his and we kissed for so long and with such intensity that I felt as if the whole world was spinning madly about me. For more than ten minutes we engaged in powerful, tongue-probing kisses, light and tender romantic kisses, teasing lip-brushing kisses. It was kissing as it was meant to be; it was the kind of kissing we'd left behind after we started having sex. Neither of us could get enough. Without really making a conscious decision to do so, I found myself slipping off his lap and onto my knees in front of him, leaning over his lap from between his legs. I unbuttoned his shirt slowly and kissed my way down his chest and abs, pausing only briefly to work open his fly and pull his zipper down. I leaned down and kissed his bulging manhood through his cotton boxers. I alternated between rubbing him with my hands and kissing up and down the length of his warm hardness, evoking frequent moans of pleasure from him. I slid my fingers into the waistband of his shorts and tugged lightly, and looking lustily into his eyes I said, "These are in my way." He lifted his hips, allowing me to pull his boxers and jeans off his hips and down to his knees, at last freeing his member from its confines. In order to intentionally tease Mitch, I didn't rush into anything, but rather knelt there in front of him, licking my lips and staring greedily at his gorgeous long, hard cock. I was now completely unable to think of any of the many reasons why for so many years I had come to almost completely deny Mitch any kind of oral pleasure. Silly woman, I chided myself silently. Anyway, I reminded myself, things were going to be different now. I wanted nothing more than to fill my hungry mouth with his hot flesh, but I resisted the strong temptation to simply plunge my mouth over him. Instead I placed my hands on his thighs and slowly moved my mouth toward his bulging member, which was twitching in anticipation. I looked up into his eyes as he stared down at me moving upon him with painstaking intentionality. I know he saw the same desire in me that I saw in him, our eyes ablaze with fire and passion, though his were mostly transfixed upon my approaching mouth. I stuck my tongue out as far as I could, for visual effect, and very lightly licked, using just the tip, all the way from his balls to the head in one long motion. I paused to lustily gaze up at him again, my mouth poised so close to his cock that I could feel the heat radiating upon my lips. "Are you ready for it?" I teased, reiterating his own words. "I'm ready," he replied, just as I had. "Starting now?" "Right now." He was practically begging. "It's going to be better than it's ever been," I reminded him. I licked my lips slowly, for effect, before plummeting my mouth down over him, taking him in as far I as possibly could, until the tip of him pressed firmly against the back of my throat. I fought back my gag reflex and held him there for as long as I could hold my breath, allowing my tongue to swirl about him as best I could with my mouth so completely filled. "Oh my gawd," he gasped repeatedly. He sounded so excited that I wondered if he might come immediately and fill my mouth. And maybe that would even be okay. I lifted my mouth off of him as swiftly as I had taken him in and looked him once more in the eyes, which were staring in rapt attention. I kept my eyes locked on him as I gently kissed the head of his cock. I stuck out my tongue, this time making it broad and flat, sweeping it firmly over the tender flesh on the front. I could sense every vein that bulged out along the way. His eyes darted back and forth between my piercing gaze and my massaging tongue. I don't know how long I spent kissing, licking and sucking every inch of his wonderful manhood, over and over again. I didn't really know what I was doing, but I gauged what he liked best by his facial expressions and by his groans, moans and sighs. I had many years of inattention to make up for, but truthfully, I wasn't just doing it for him, though I could clearly tell how he loved every bit of what I was doing. No, I was doing it just as much for me. I couldn't get enough of him. Feelings of love and desire flooded over me that I thought had long since died, and I was like a woman possessed. I found myself thinking, saying and doing things I'd never even dreamed of before. I raised myself up to kiss Mitch at one point, taking a brief break from loving on his cock, and as I resumed my kneeling position after a long and lusty kiss my nipples brushed over his hardness, sparking a naughty new idea in me. I pulled open the front of the chemise and gently rubbed my nipples up and down the length of his cock, alternating between sides. It was a deeply erotic feeling that I'd never felt before. I then pressed my tits around him and stroked him up and down with my cleavage as he thrust mightily between them, gasping the whole time with delight. I felt a definite slipperiness develop between my breasts as he began to ooze out pre-come onto my chest. As I knelt back in place in front of him I noticed a large drop formed precariously upon the tip, and involuntarily my tongue swept over it, tasting his salty sweetness for the first time in my life. "Mmmm," I cooed with my best naughty voice, "Delicious." I licked my lips seductively and then went back to kissing and licking and sucking with wild abandon. He was groaning louder and more intently that ever. Several more times after that I used my hands or breasts to force more drops of love-juice from him before licking him clean. Each taste only made me want more, and soon I was fantasizing about him spilling his full load of come into my mouth. Though the idea had never appealed to me before, the more I imagined it, the more I wanted it. Yes, I actually wanted it - desperately. Still, as much I desired to taste his come, there was an ache between my legs that also needed urgently to be satisfied. And finally I shocked him and myself equally when I looked up at him and said forcefully, "I need your hard cock in my pussy right now!" I climbed over him, raising the chemise to expose my sex, and kissed him fervently as I slowly spread my swollen, soaking wet lips over the tip of his rigid rod. He entered me easily, for I was more ready for him than I could ever recall. I bounced greedily up and down upon his shaft, as much turned on by the wonderful filled-full sensation as I was by the tremendous sloshing sounds that were emanating from our nether regions and the groans of pleasure coming from my husband. I ground myself into him, rubbing my clit against the base of his hardness and inching myself closer and closer to orgasm. I thrashed upon him ever more desperately and wildly as I felt myself rising toward an undeniable peak of pleasure. Mitch grabbed one of my tits as it swung before his face, and drew it into his warm, wet mouth. When he clamped his mouth down over it and began flicking his tongue over my nipple, that was all it took to send me over the edge. I sailed into the longest and most delightful orgasm of my life, as I writhed with delight upon my husband, my hips thrusting frantically in order to wring every bit of pleasure I could from my body. Just as I was gradually coming down from my peak I felt Mitch's body tense as he was thrusting up into me, holding me up by my hips so he could pound me furiously from underneath. Even in my post-orgasmic daze, I realized that he would be coming within seconds, and I suddenly recalled my deep desire to taste his come, to drink in his pleasure with my mouth. I vaulted off of his lap and sank to my knees just as the first spurt of sperm shot from the tip of his convulsing cock, landing against my right cheek. Swiftly I lowered my lips over his spurting member as he continued to pulse out jet after jet of creamy warm come into my welcoming mouth. My mouth filled quickly and I swallowed repeatedly to keep every drop I could for myself. It was an erotic concoction of our juices mixed together, and I wanted it all. At last it seemed he was finished filling my mouth, and after savoring the feeling and taste of him for a few seconds longer, I slid his softening member from between my lips, looked him once more in the eyes, and swallowed the last of his seed. Exhausted but extremely satisfied, I climbed back onto his lap. I lowered my mouth to his, and he eagerly tasted the sweet blend of our love juices with his lips and tongue. We cuddled and kissed for a long time, though perhaps with slightly less vivacity than before. "So do you like your present?" he asked when we finally paused our make-out session. "I can tell you this. If this is what it gets me, you can buy me as much lingerie as you want, Valentines Day or not." "If this is what it gets me, you can pretty much count on it!" he replied enthusiastically. I sat up on his lap to give him a little thank you kiss, which unintentionally started another round of passionate kissing. Pretty soon I felt something growing hard again beneath me, probing between my legs. "Oh my god," I gasped, "again, already?" He pulled me away from him slightly and holding me gently by the bare shoulders gave me a look that was as sexy as it was sweet. "Are you ready for it?" he inquired with a wicked grin. "Right now?" I asked in sheepish surprise. "Right now!" he said emphatically. Without hesitation and while still gazing lovingly at him, I quickly slipped his rapidly stiffening manhood deftly and deeply into me. As I rocked against him, we both moaned our thoughts in unison. "It's going to be better than it's ever been." "It already is," I smiled, thrusting my hips with newfound vigor. "It already is."