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A quiet autumn night on Cape Cod, a quiet inn with views of the ocean on three sides, a quiet weekend together, eating dinners, taking long walks, sharing breakfast in bed, letting the time slowly pass through us.
After a nice Italian dinner, three full courses and too much desert, we head back to the inn to sit on our favorite chairs on a side porch, one that looks due south, along the coast and across the ocean. We find our chairs empty, waiting for us, but I need a cup of coffee and you offer brandy to go with it. As I settle in, wrapping a blanket around me against the cool ocean breezes, you fetch the coffee and the spirits, bringing back two warm mugs. A light kiss on the lips and then we both settle back, holding hands between our chairs, silently sipping.
The sounds of the water, the satisfied feeling of a large meal and a few glasses of wine, the gentle warmth of the brandy mixed together, making us sleepy. Only the coffee and the gentle playfulness of our hands locked together keeps us awake. You tell me stories about growing up and what you remember makes you happy most. I listen closely, staring out at the ocean, but my mind’s eye towards you.
The coffee grows colder, the cool breezes stronger, and you suggest moving back to our room, maybe getting under some warm covers. I look over to you and smile. We have been exploring each other all weekend, but I feel there is more still to come, more touches to find and learn. I smile at you, squeeze your hand, and stand up quickly. I put my cup down on the porch ledge, take yours from your hands and then throw the blanket out wide, slipping on to your lap, then covering us both.
I kiss your lips, then tuck my head into your shoulder, resting just on your chest. Your arms wrap around me and I snuggle closer. You squeeze tighter, not wanting this feeling, this warmth or being together like this to go away. We both stay silent, listening to the ocean, listening to our own deep breathing.
Your fingers play through my hair, your hand traces a line down my cheek and neck. I shiver a little and you hold me tighter. My face looks up to yours and we both smile before closing our eyes and placing our lips together lightly. A soft gentle kiss, then your hand finds my face, pulls me in closer and we kiss more deeply, more fully. I can taste wine and coffee and chocolate desert on your lips, our tongues beginning to sneak around, tease each other. I moan softly, you murmur how good this feels. I break our kiss and rest my head against your shoulder again, my hands rubbing your chest and arms.
You look down at me and let out a long sigh, so beautiful, so warm and gentle, so soft and perfectly contoured in your lap. The blanket still covers us, my hands moving around now underneath it. You start to whisper and I kiss you quickly. “Keep your hand along my face, just touch my cheek and nose and lips and neck.” I kiss you deeply again, then shift a little, positioning my legs, moving my hips, adjusting my posture on your lap. I undo a few buttons on my skirt, letting it fall open just enough for my skin to radiate heat on you. Your hand leaves my face for a moment and I look up at you and smile, “just keep your hand there, baby.”
We kiss again, lips parting fully now to let our tongues mingle and mix. I suck a little on your tongue, You respond with a nibble on my lip. My hands begin to fumble for the belt and buttons on your pants that are restraining you. You start to help and I move your hand back to my face with a quiet “shhh.” You moan a little, and then give a sharp gasp as my fingers reach inside your pants, my fingertips on your taut, silky skin. I wrap my hand around you and squeeze softly. We both breathe deeply.
My fingers begin a slow dance, moving between my legs, touching myself and bringing the heat and warm wetness to you. A few long strokes up and down your length, and then my fingers disappear again, sliding deep inside myself. My other hand reaches around inside the pockets of the light jacket you have on. I find the small tube of massage cream, lilac scented, that I hid there earlier. You smile, surprised and pleased. I move my lips to your neck, taking small bites and nibbles as I flip open the top of the tube, slowly squeezing cream onto your male hardness. My hand starts stroking again and you let out a long quiet groan, and start saying my name again and again.
I shift once more, just slightly, just enough, and as my lips find yours, your eyes open looking into mine, my hand slowly slides your slippery hardness into me. I have shifted my body just enough and let my legs open just enough for you to slide inside me, I am tight and wet around you. We barely move, just letting our bodies stay joined. You start rocking slightly in the chair, moving back and forth, the motion just enough to move your hardness in small motions inside me. Our lips stay just barely touching, faint, faint kisses, matching the faint movement of our bodies. My hand reaches for you, slowly stroking the base of your member as you move, just barely move, inside me.
Your hand traces the lines of my face, into my hair, across my forehead, down my nose to my lips, my chin, my neck. My fingers softly squeeze the base of you, I tighten around you. Your hand finds my mouth again and I suck one finger in, then whisper, “take that to me.” Your hand reaches down, under the covers, between all the clothes, and finds that small special spot, ready, aching for your touch. Your fingers rub and tug and tease me and I let out a sigh, then a moan. “Stay inside me,” I plead, over and over, “stay inside me.” You keep rocking slowly, your movements in me just enough. Our fingers slow their pace and we find a gentle rhythm, a slow steady pace, with your hardness growing inside me, getting deeper and deeper into my wetness. I shift my body again, and my legs open just a bit more. Your hardness slides to the back of me now and we both draw a quick breath. Then slowly release it as our bodies grow accustomed to the feeling, so deep inside me now, pulsing so warm.
Our orgasms come slowly, moving through us like the waves of the ocean we can hear all around us. Yours comes first, seeming to fill me up. I cum shortly after, as I feel your fluid running sticky down my legs. As I cum, my head rests easily on your shoulder and you squeeze me tight, your arms wrapped around me, holding me beneath this blanket, on this chair, on this porch, listening to the ocean, drowning in each other.
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