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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2014. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Saturday Morning
by Lyndon Brown (indysheets@hotmail.com)
***
Some time ago, I read an essay by Ravensclaw entitled
"How to give someone an orgasmic dream." It inspired
this story. (MF, wife, rom)
***
I appreciate all comments and criticism. If anyone can
offer instruction on uploading via FTP into my ASSTR
account, I sorely need it!
***
I woke before the alarm clock sounded and turned it off
without disturbing Joan. I love lying in bed beside her
on a Saturday morning, savoring sensations of warmth and
comfort that never seem so intense at any other time of
day. I could spend whole mornings with her in my arms,
hitting the snooze bar over and over, staying on the
threshold of sleep, reveling in her heat and fragrance,
savoring the best part of my life in nine-minute gulps.
She, however, insists on staying unconscious till ten.
She was lying on her side, her head half on my shoulder,
half on the pillow. She was uncovered to the waist,
having, as usual, thrown the covers off her and onto me.
Carefully, I shifted the double thickness of blankets,
covering her without disturbing her. I kissed her
forehead as I reached around to tuck the comforter under
her. She smiled in her sleep, murmured and wriggled
tighter into me, then settled in. I hoped she was
dreaming about us.
This time together was made even sweeter by our recent
separation. A year ago I convinced myself that she was
having an affair. She stonewalled my attempts to
confront her. No explanations. No remorse. No
reassurance. No attempts to sooth my feelings or counter
my suspicions. Just, "If you loved me, you would trust
me" and a defiant stare. I withdrew. My employer offered
a transfer to another state and I jumped on it. Two
months ago I realized I was only hurting myself by
staying away.
I found my cock stirring as I looked down her lush body.
I had arrived late the night before, even later than
usual. Her car wasn't in the drive when I arrived, but
then, with traffic, weather, and the uncertainty about
when I can leave the jobsite, the timing of my weekend
commute is hard to predict. She pulled in as I was
gathering the second load of luggage to carry into the
house, and waved a pizza carton at me. Three microwaved
slices and two glasses of wine later, we crashed into
bed, without the usual "welcome home" lovemaking.
Stray strands of her hair tickled my cheek. My
fingertips smoothed it over her temple. There were small
flecks of something in her hair, tiny clumps and knots.
I began to comb it with my fingertips, straightening and
untangling, and remembering.
She wears her hair short now, tinted silver gray. When I
first noticed her, in the dorm cafeteria, it was
chestnut brown, parted in the center with loose braids
over her shoulders. She wore it that way only the one
day, but that is my first memory of her. I loved her
with long straight hair. We would spend hours then with
her lying on me, just kissing. Her hair would fall
around us in a warm curtain, isolating us, focusing our
attention into each other's eyes. The gray hairs were
appearing, even then. When she turned thirty, defying
fashion, she took it all the way gray, and short.
I unbuttoned her sleep shirt and exposed her free
breast. The pudgy nipple was still a bud, just beginning
to stretch as I breathed on it. Her nipples are a rare
treat. Occasionally she responds to full contact with
lips and tongue, but generally her nipples are far too
sensitive for extended play. This morning they looked
red and puffy. I resolved to restrict my touch to the
underside of her breasts and the upper slopes. I noticed
more flecks of that gluey substance on her throat and
sprinkled down into her cleavage. There was a small
bruise on the inside of the breast. I kissed it
tenderly.
There is a sharp edge between arousal and awakening. If
the timing is right, the sleeper, like my Joan, will
incorporate sensual stimulation into her dreams. If
technique and timing are precise and correct, it can
lead to penetration and orgasm. If not, a sharp elbow
and a cold shoulder. Guided by twenty years of trial and
error experimentation, I began a walk on that tightrope.
I started slowly. I formed a fist with my left hand, and
began rolling it firmly against her spine where it met
the very top of the cleft of her asscheeks. She murmured
in her sleep, but her breathing stayed deep and regular.
I massaged deeply, then slacked off. Firm, then gentle.
When she shifted backward to maintain contact, I knew I
had her.
Ever so slowly, I eased her knee up onto my hip, paused
as she adjusted her dream, then added gentle pressure to
her mound with my right palm.
She sighed, and her breathing grew even deeper and
slower. I held her between my hands, applying just
warmth and light pressure. I kissed her neck and the
upper slope of her breast, clearing the odd speckles,
watching the nipple slowly rise and the flush began to
grow across her chest. After an eternity, she began
hunching lightly against my palm.
I extended two fingers of my left hand and began to
massage the area between her labia and anus. She was
surprisingly slick and sweaty. I dipped the fingers of
my right hand into the moisture and began to spread it
up onto her labia. She began to twitch, chasing my
fingers as they circled sensitive areas. As I rubbed
upward, over her clitoris, she jumped forward, then
thrust strongly back. The unexpected movement caught my
forefinger in her anus. It penetrated easily, slickly up
to the second knuckle, but when she moaned. I retreated
instantly.
Her rosebud is off-limits to me, except when she needs
that little extra push over the edge into orgasm. She
did offer it to me, just once, three months before our
marriage. She was resting, after her first orgasm, my
cock in her mouth. She paused, looked up, and said,
"Would you like to fuck my ass?" I eagerly positioned
her on hands and knees, then dipped my cock into her
pussy, just for lubrication. She went wild. Her orgasm
triggered mine. I have mourned that one premature
ejaculation for twenty years!
After she settled, then resumed the thrusts against my
hands, I rolled up on my side and slid my cock between
her vaginal lips. The motion of her hips strengthened. I
greased my fingers in her oils, parted her lips and
began stroking her clit.
She threw back her head. Her eyes never opened, but her
face screwed up in that expression of tortured
concentration that precedes her explosion. When my
fingers left her clit, to guide my cock into her, she
whined.
I shifted the top half of my body back to improve the
angle, then slid into her. We couldn't manage much
length of thrust in this position, but she ground her
pelvis against me with frantic strength. I stroked her,
rubbing her labia as they stretched around my fully
embedded erection. I slickened my fingers and slid them
back up and around her clit.
She moaned her need. Her hand seized my gently stroking
fingers and crushed them against her. She craned her
head far downward as if to watch our short battering
strokes. She beat herself against me fiercely,
convulsively, then exploded in orgasm. She curled up,
sobbing for breath.
I kissed the top of her head, snuggling her into my
chest. My hands massaged her back and eased the
trembling muscles of her butt and upper thighs. I slid
within her, forward and back, just enough to maintain my
erection, waiting. I cupped a breast, cradling her in my
arms as she came down from a truly impressive climax.
She stirred, turned her head, and gently bit my nipple.
"Thank you," she panted, "That was fantastic! You were
amazing, Eric. As always."
I went cold and rigid. My hands clenched into fists. She
gasped as my fingers crushed her breast.
My name is Bob.
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Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 79