Revival

After some drunken TV watching and snacking she comes at me on the couch, straddling me, her tongue darting into my mouth. I answer, holding her thighs and feeling her heavy breasts. Not much making out before she's on her knees sucking my cock. Her mouth is hot and velvety, but I want her pussy. We shed our clothes and she's back on top of me, guiding me into her magic vagina. She rides, I thrust upward, she leans back with only our linked hands keeping her from falling. It's actually a funny sight, something more out of a porn than three years of dating.

But we're moving one. She's bending over on the couch. Yes! We haven't done this in a long time. Kettle bells and hula hooping, I highly recommend. I press into her and after a few thrusts she's coming apart. I let her have it, not the vicious pounding I've delivered to other women, but firm thrusts and the magic is happening.

We adjourn to the bed for more doggy style. My hands look very dark against her wide hips and bodacious ass. It all curves down to her waist and flattens to a plain before her tits jut out, wobbling from my thrusts. I can't see them of course, but I know them.

And I'm slowing down, breathing very carefully my balls eager to fulfill their biological imperative. Her flesh is being extra accommodating to encourage that. Her aroma is plain, filling the air. I pull out so she can get on her back and I can gather myself. Then I enter her for the third time and with slightly less penetration I can do her harder, ankles over my shoulders, her moaning and mewling as we fuck. I have to stop, no babies are to be made and this is a dangerous phase of the moon for that. But we're drunk and in love. And I almost don't think about the Last Girl, or Hate Fuck as we're having post coital cuddles.