Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
BODEN
Audrey’s back is pressed against my front, and my cock is nestled between her bare ass cheeks. Like she knows I’m awake, her hips grind into me slowly, causing a groan to crawl up my throat.
My hand that’s resting on her chest moves slowly down her stomach, gently kneading and massaging, working my way down her leg and back up again.
One thing about Audrey is that she loves to be fucked while she’s sleeping. But I refuse to let it be bad for her, even if she is out cold.
*Grabbing a handful of her tit, I lean in to kiss her neck and whisper, “Does my pretty, sleepy girl want to be fucked?”
Even when she’s still sleeping, I swear our subconsciouses are connected on a deeper dimension because her ass pushes into my pulsing cock in answer. And I give her what she wants. I grab her top leg and place it over mine, giving me the access I need to her clit.
My hand trails up her leg and brushes over the patch of hair just above where I need to be—I think she called it a martini glass last time I was messing with it. I find her already slick clit with ease, and circle the little bundle of nerves.
I talk to no one but myself when I ask, “Have you been dreaming of me, Darlin’? This pussy is soaked.”
I was planning to pull a quick orgasm out of her and then filling her up, but now I need a taste. The craving I have for my wife at all times truly needs to be studied.
Pulling away slightly, I roll her onto her back and shimmy under the covers to lie flat on my stomach, nestling between her legs. She’s spread open for me like she knows what’s coming for her already, even while sleeping—welcoming me in.
Usually, on the weekends she’s off from work, I’ll surprise her early in the morning with an orgasm or two, and I’ll keep my sleepy play time activities to myself when she has a shift. The last thing I want is to be the reason she gets less rest than she does now.
But I always say: an orgasm a day keeps the divorce papers away.
I drag my flat tongue from the bottom of her slit all the way to the top and pause to suck her clit between my lips.
Her legs try to close around my head, but I place my hands on them to keep her spread open for me.
My efforts stay focused on her clit, alternating between pointing my tongue and sucking.
She’s already moaning deep in her throat, but I know the cues of when she’s getting close, and she’s nowhere near the finish line yet.
She’s still breathing evenly, clearly still out of it, but she whines, “Missssss, please…” And the sly smile that makes its way to my face is wide.
It’s been two years since we were in Vegas with our Domme at Sin’s, and she still brings her up here and there—but the times she comes up the most are when I’m pulling pleasure out of here while she’s sleeping.
Audrey’s guard is down when she’s like this, and I enjoy being able to hear her true thoughts.
And she clearly misses her
Deep down, I feel like Audrey fell for her in that short period of time we spent with her, but the more logical side of my brain just wonders if she mourns for what it could be like having another woman in our dynamic.
I know Audrey would never openly tell me that, but I think the small town we live in plays a big role in her decision too.
And I can’t blame Audrey for her hesitations when that was her first experience with another woman, and still the only one to this day.
Society tells me I should be jealous of my wife and her desire to explore, but it does the opposite for me.
I’m grinding my hips into the bed with an embarrassing urgency, trying to get any kind of relief until my wife comes on my tongue, but it’s just pulling me closer and closer to my own finish line. And that’s not my focus right now.
It’s too dark with my head under the blanket, but from what I can tell, her breathing is still even, meaning she’s still asleep. Normally she’ll say something when she wakes, and that’s normally right before she comes.
So I bring my hand to her entrance and slide two fingers in, easily finding the spongy flesh at the top. I curl them into her G-spot while keeping the pressure even as I thrust them in and out. She lets out a moan, and her legs relax, allowing me to pump in and out of her even easier.
“Does my sleepy girl want one more finger?” I tease her entrance with one more finger, slightly stretching her around me. “This cunt was practically begging to be filled and stretched. Wasn’t it, Darlin’?”
With my lips latched back onto her clit, my fingers massaging that spot inside of her over and over again, I can tell she’s right on the edge of her favorite kind of orgasm.
A sleepy one.
* Close Enough - Connor Kauffman