Saturday, September 13, 2014

Witching Hour

It's 3am...again. Some call it the witching hour, or the devil's hour. I'm almost always awake at this hour. Does that mean I'm a witch? Or in league with the devil? I think I should leave those questions for another time, another story...

I roll over and look at you, sleeping so peacefully. You look young and innocent sleeping, your head on the pillow, your hand tucked under it, the cares of life and the stresses of work erased from your features. A relaxed face, the stubble that you will gripe about in the morning, because it's starting to turn grey. The stubble that I love to feel against my thighs when you take command of my body with your mouth.

Life has been hard lately though. Work for both of us has become stressful, we've gotten lost in the day-to-day mire of jobs, aging parents, caught up in the rat race of letting others dictate our time and energy. Maybe that's what woke me up. The deep thoughts in the middle of the night. I miss our carefree time together. I miss the man who tells me to kneel at his feet and take him in my mouth when he walks in the door. I miss the me that wantonly does so and takes you as deep into my mouth as possible, and then a little bit more just because it pleases you and I love pleasing you.

As I look at you lying in bed, I discover that I miss that most of all...I miss *us*. Where did we go? How did we lose the all important us? Thinking about it in this darkest hour of night, I realize...it doesn't matter how we got here. It's getting back that's important.

With that in mind, I slowly pull back the covers and look at your perfection; because to me, you are perfect. Even in your sleep, even with the innocent look on your face, I know better. I know that you are the man who has always been able to command my attention; with a single look, a softly spoken word, a solitary touch...and I melt into your power.

Looking at you now, the light down low so it won't disturb you, but I am about to disturb you in a way that I hope will please you. I need us back again...so I will serve you. You are deep in sleep and I pause, wondering if what I'm about to do will piss you off, or help bring us back to center. Doing nothing will get us nowhere, so what have I got to lose?

I run my hand gently up your thigh, you shift slightly but you're still fast asleep. I cup your balls and your cock in my hand. You're soft and pliant...it's too early for your usual morning wood. I lean down and lick you, gently taking all of you into my warm moist mouth. You taste so wonderful. I love the feel of you in my mouth all soft, and the fact that I can actually take all of you this way, it makes me moan, it makes me hungry for more. I start to get lost in the feeling of you in my mouth when your hand lands on my head and I hear a sleepy grumble.

"Fuck baby, what....ah shit..."

Your voice gets lost in a gravely moan and your fingers start gripping my hair. You've gotten so hard in my mouth and I can't stop what I've started...even if I wanted to. I'm lost in the feeling of pleasing you. You shift your legs to give me better access and you whisper, "You know what to do, do it."

A shiver rakes through my body because it's "that" voice...the voice I haven't heard in so long, the voice that makes me melt and my insides puddle and start to drip down my thighs. I let my saliva flow freely so that I can do that thing you love so well. My hand is coated now, slippery and my fingers squeeze your balls in the way to your perineum, stroking until you shudder slightly. A single finger finds your tight hole, pushes in slowly; your hips thrust driving your cock deeper into my mouth, a growl escapes your lips. You open slowly to my probing while I release your cock and suck your balls into my mouth, laving them with my tongue, sucking gently.

A second finger joins the first in your ass and I feel your prostate.

"C'mon babygirl, you know what to do."

I melt a little more as I release your balls with a pop, and fall on your cock once more. Two fingers in your tight ass, slowly stroking your prostate, while I take you as deep into my mouth and throat as I can. You stroke my cheek, and then twine your fingers in my hair again, not forcing me, but not letting me up either. Your subtle control, always what drives me over the edge. I growl deep in my throat, vibrating against your cock, your hips thrust your cock deeper into my mouth while each movement rubs my fingers over your sweet spot inside.

I hear your deep groans as your hips continue to buck against me, and then you stiffen and with a growl of warning, you are salty sweet in my mouth. I don't let go, I savor it like the sweetest ambrosia because to me that's exactly what it has always been. My mouth softens on the now sensitive head of your cock, my tongue gently laving your shaft, cleaning every drop.

"Oh, sweet babygirl, I've missed that. I've missed you. Where'd this come from?"

I can't look at him. I'm still a little lost. "I've missed us. We got lost and I need you. I need you to need me."

He gathers me in his arms, "Babygirl...I know life has been hard lately. I need you so much. I'm sorry I haven't shown you that. But you've given me the best reminder. Now I need you to lay back and let me give you some more of what you need."

And that's exactly what he does. His fingers, his tongue, his cock, possess every square inch of me and I know once again that I belong and am cherished.

As we cuddle up together, just about to drift off to sleep, I hear his soft voice as he strokes my head, "And next week, when I come home from work, you'd best be waiting at the door for me wearing nothing but a smile."

I drift off to sleep knowing we're okay.


Both story and image:
© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2014

2 comments:

  1. Um, I tried to follow your blog but blogger seems to now want me to do that easily, I dunno what they were thinking with that stuff. I can't find the button. Anyhow if I can find it again I'll read more later, looks interesting.

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    Replies
    1. Well that's irritating. I'll see if I can figure out what's going on.

      Thank you, Bajan.

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