Emily’s home

It started with a threesome with Dani, but then, oh my….but then…..

An after-sex doze is the best thing. Sated, for now, one simply drifts off into a world of semi consciousness. Warm, still producing moisture, and still tingling. 

When I awoke, Dani had tactfully left the room, and I lay on my side looking at my beautiful wife. Emily’s breathing was deep and regular, and I let my eyes take in every inch of her body from her pert and firm ‘b’ boobs, her flat tummy with just a gentle yet highly erotic swell, to her now shaven mound and her legs. Legs that have been wrapped around my head so many times. Finally, her face. Oh, so familiar, so perfect. I admit, I offered a prayer of thanks to God for placing her in my life, and the Catholic priest whose humanity transcended dogma when he married us. 

At the top of her legs, her labia were just visible and her clit nestled between them. I slithered down the bed and lay my head gently on her lower tummy and inhaled her. Fresh soap, of course, since we’d all showered together, but also Emily. Her unique scent that I would know anywhere. My tongue touches her clitoral hood and she murmers in her sleep. A little more and her legs slowly part, revealing her vulva to me. 

I reposition myself so that I’m between her thighs now, and licking between those pink, puffy lips. How divine. She moans softly, and I know she’s somewhere between awake and asleep. As I worship at the shrine of her sex, taking the benediction of her love into my mouth, I notice the increase in its flow, but also the change in taste and texture. 

There will be no frenzied fingering, or use of toys. This is….intimate….soft….delicate. An expression of love, not lust. I feel her hands on my head. Awake now, then? A soft whisper drifts from her mouth to my ears “Oh, Anna. I love you so much.” The intensity of those words forces a tear from my eye which rolls unashamedly down my cheek. Briefly, I consider pushing my long tongue inside her, or perhaps into her bum, but as soon as the thought develops, I push it away. No! Not like that. Not now. There will be time for that later. 

I feel the first movement of her pelvic floor. She’s close to orgasm. I let my tongue dance its pas de deux with her clit and gently push her over the edge. 

When she comes down, I find myself on top of her, holding her face in both hands, looking deeply into her eyes and kissing her. Yes, I know I’m transferring her wetness from my mouth to hers, but it is as if that simply doesn’t matter. We kiss, seemingly endlessly. 

I feel her hand pushing gently at my pelvis. Oh, how like the first time she touched me. We had been kissing, and this felt like two schoolgirls exploring each other. I lift myself, gently, and let her hand trace, soft as a butterfly over my lower tummy to my sex. I realise how wet I am. Licking her had certainly opened the floodgates, and I’d formed a small patch of slipperiness on her tummy. 

And then, she finds my clit. She begins to play it like she plays her violin. Emily is a concert standard violinist and the touch of her fingers is amazing! She doesn’t try to enter me, and the kissing doesn’t stop. What I feel building between my legs is immense. 

Between kisses she whispers endearments. There is no filth, no subjugation, just expressions of a deep unchangeable love. I wonder what will bring me off? Her fingers? Or her words? 

I have no idea what she does between my legs next. I couldn’t describe it if I tried. It sent me over into paroxysms of unspeakable joy. Later, she tells me it was Vivaldi. I don’t understand, so she takes her violin from its case and plays me the passage she means. Oh. Now I understand. 

We don’t leave each others side all day and all night. We don’t dress, we don’t leave the bedroom. Dani, bless her, brings us drinks and food at regular intervals, but we only have eyes for one another, even though Dani is still naked herself. 

We caress one another, spending an eternity stroking, running our hands over contours that are oh, so familiar. When sex happens, it seems merely to develop. Mostly it’s unspeakably romantic, but a couple of times there’s a savagery to it. 

Once, Emily practically rapes me. But oh, it’s a welcome rape. She take our beloved ‘Mike’, puts him on, and literally fucks me into oblivion. 

Over the next few weeks, she will tell me of her adventures in hotels, and I will relate my activities. We revel in one another’s joy, and there never has been, nor will there ever be any jealousy at all. 

She tells me of a young Spanish room maid in a hotel, and I sit hardly daring to breathe as I wet my panties with lust for her. I tell Emily of my watching sex in my wood. I tell her of the school kids I’ve seen making out, and the one occasion where a teenage girl left her panties behind after a fingering session with her boyfriend. They were still warm and moist when I retrieved them. For the first time for a long time, I smelled pure virgin! 

Even I can’t spend my life 24/7/365 having sex (although I could give it a damn good try). Clits get sore, and whipping needs time between sessions of it. Desire is a powerful aphrodisiac, and wanting to have sex with my wife is a beautiful appetiser for the act itself. 

Emily, then, is home. 

My world is complete.