#142) Wordplay – mild sexual content

#142) Wordplay – mild sexual content

She woke up, and a smile crossed her face as she realized that it was Sunday morning, leisurely, luxuriously to the point of lazy Sunday.
Jeanie realized, as consciousness replaced slumber, that she was pleasantly aroused this late morning. Her nipples were hard, and her hands were drawn as if magnetized to pinch and tweak each in their turn. Then her curious hands delved under the covers. Her sex was wet, not just humid or moist or bedewed, but nice and slick. Her right hand parted those swollen labial lips. She popped the hood over her clit like a mechanic would the hood of a cherry ’57 Chevy, that is eagerly but gingerly. While her fingers swirled about that erect clitoris, spreading her juices all around, her other hand stealth-fully snuck around back. This hand parted Jeanie’s globular buttocks, found her rosebud, and tickled it awake.
What was the dream she’d been having before she woke up? She couldn’t remember the specifics, only that she was frolicking with her lover and that it’d been good.
Jeanie opened her eyes enough to see that the man lying next to her was stirring into consciousness and that he had morning wood. Similar to her arousal, this was not just turgid or semi-excited. His cock was as hard and tall and impressive as a mighty oak.
So neither of them needed foreplay. But it was always so much better when they indulged in preliminary play. Jeanie snuggled close to the man who had been sharing her bed nightly for the past two months, making sure that those hard nipples brushed across Jeff’s arm and shoulder, as she leaned into his ear.
“Are you awake?” she smiled.
“Um-hum.”
She nibbled that ear as she continued, “I need a spanking. Will you give it to me?”
With barely any of his assistance, she crawled across his lap, pulling the bedclothes down, so that she could nestle skin-against-skin on a lap with little room due to that towered tree-trunk. It was a good-natured spanking, but still strict enough to redden the target and make Jeanie wriggle and yelp. With each spank, Jeanie grew wetter and she felt that tree-trunk surge higher toward the heavens. God, I love a playful paddling, Jeanie thought exuberantly. It was so sensual! A consensual act that exuded sensuality! …What was the connection between those two similar words, Jeanie wondered? Giving mutual permission and physical gratification, they seemed different, though overlapping, like some Venn diagram she studied in high school. The next spank, harder than those previous and smack-dab across her ass crack made these thoughts flee.
She mock-pouted, “God, you’re really spanking me hard this morning! Have I been a bad girl in your eyes, lover?”
“You are the best!” he enthused, starting to rub her cheeks, appreciating their glowing color and warmth. He parted her. “Fuck, you’re wet!”
“You do that to me…” Jeanie breathed. He fingered her slit, trailing some of the copious jism up her crack and onto her rosebud. This make her cream all the harder. Secretions, that was the formal word for sexual juices, she thought to herself. If the root of that word was secret, why were her secretions so obvious, so massive?
“Has your little girl been spanked enough? Ready to make love?” she sighed.
“I dunno, you were the one who asked for the spanking…” Jeff replied.
Jeanie sat up on his lap, rotated, impaled herself on his manhood and slowly sunk down on the shaft until disappeared entirely in her pussy. “Oh, fuck!” she exclaimed as she rode him. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Even while in the throes of ecstasy of this glorious morning, etymology bothered her. Where does the word fuck come from? Was the meaning “for unlawful carnal knowledge” as she’d heard as a schoolgirl? Jeanie doubted it. Then she shook her head to rid it of these bizarre thoughts. WHY was it filled with these things when her pussy was so wonderfully filled with her man’s manhood? For several minutes Jeanie rode Jeff like a carousel horse on a merry-go-round. As she neared orgasm, the word “love” crossed Jeanie’s mind. It was too early to think about it, but nonetheless, she was. There again, there were nearly a million kinds of love. Like the Eskimos have a lot of words for different kinds of snow because that was important to them. Jeanie shook her head again, harder this time, then put all her energy into pogo-ing on Jeff’s stick. They climaxed together, the way that Jeanie preferred. Then she collapsed on top of him, their sexes still joined, nipples touching nipples, and she pressed her mouth to his. No random words were on her mind now, just euphoria. Mouths had to part eventually; their noses alone couldn’t supply enough oxygen to two exerted bodies. As soon as they did, Jeff’s eyes met Jeanie’s.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you…” he started. She looked back at him, content but curious. “..I know this is sudden… we’ve only known each other a short while… but nothing seems so right… I think you know when you know…”
“I don’t know what you’re…”
“I’m asking you to marry me, Jeanie.”
Words now had meaning, and that meaning equated with feelings. Tears filled her eyes, Jeanie pressed her lips to Jeff’s once more. Again, both nearly suffocated.
“Is that a yes?” he gasped.
Jeanie nodded, words failing her completely.

4 responses to “#142) Wordplay – mild sexual content”

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