Mitzi got her sleepover.
She was already booked for the first night I had available, as friends had invite her to dinner. But she wondered: could I come over after dinner, say around ten-ish?
That worked for me. We calendared the date.
If I was free until ten, I could fulfill another obligation. I could reschedule Bridget’s sex and dinner date for earlier that evening.
I hated bumping her due to my son’s illness. She’s a good friend, and I’m her main outlet for sex. And Bridget really likes her sex.
I asked Bridget over for a nice cocktail hour fucking; she offered to take me to dinner afterwards. This would pass the time until Mitzi was available, and I could head to her place, toothbrush in tow.
Not a bad plan, but things went slightly awry.
Bridget was held up at work, and late to get to my place. Alas, that meant that dinner would have to be scratched as we tended to her other itchings.
As we parted company, I realized that I was starving and pretty tuckered out. It had been a long day following a short sleep; I was up late and awake early to get the kids to school.
Mitzi greeted me at the door. I persuaded her to walk out with me to get some tacos.
We chatted as I munched at her place, and shared some bourbons. When bedtime rolled around, I sorta kinda . . . fell asleep.
The next morning, Mitzi kissed me awake. “Do you remember last night?” she asked.
“Hmmmm, what about last night?”
“I fucked you. You were sound asleep. It was a great fuck, too.”
“What? How did you fuck me when I was asleep?”
“Well, I woke up horny around three and discovered your hard cock in my bed. So I rubbed and sucked your cock, hoping you might wake for sex.
“After about forty minutes of worshipping your cock . . .”
“Forty minutes?!”
“Yes, after forty minutes, I got to the point where my clit was going to explode. I crawled up to your face and whispered, ‘Jefferson? Jefferson? Jefferson?’
“‘Mmmmm?’ you said.
“‘Do you know what I've been doing to you?’” I asked.
“‘Nuh uh’” you replied.
“‘I’ve been sucking and playing with your cock.’” I informed you.
“‘You have?’” you asked.
“‘Indeed,’ I said. ‘That’s why you are so hard . . . Jefferson? Jefferson?’”
“Dear Lord, I was out again?”
“Snoring away, dead to the world. So I roused you and said I needed to fuck you. You invited me to climb on.”
“And so you did as I suggested?”
“Yes I did. I put a condom on, you—no need for lube considering my pussy was wet as hell after manipulating your cock for so long.
“I straddled you. I was wearing a black nightie. You went to grab my breasts, but sleep took over and you just hung onto the neckline of a nightie as I rode you.
“You stayed passed out, but hard. I rode you, bringing my knees up toward your chest, sitting down deeper onto your cock, that cock that my body was so ready for . . .”
I was hard as Mitzi related this story.
“I decided I wanted to feel you as deep as I could, and my g spot was very receptive. I had to take your hands away from my neckline. I placed them on my hips; in sleep, you relocated them to my tummy.
“I rubbed my body into yours as I grabbed hold of my breasts. It was at this point you started to pleasantly surprise me by thrusting your pelvis to meet my grinds . . .
“Soon I lowered my torso to meet yours, allowing my clit to grind against your pelvis. Even in slumber you know what I like and pressed into me.
“I came. It was a nice, sweet orgasm. But I was so worked up, there was more left.”
“More?” I asked, as she rubbed my cock.
“Uh huh,” she whispered. “I took a moment, laying on you. My pussy barely stopped moving for a minute before I went back to work.
“I hooked the tops of my feet around your shins, pressing my body deep to yours rubbing back and forth on you, All the while you were asleep, but so hard for me.
“I soon came again . . . this time, big. A big fat juicy blissful orgasm. It knocked the wind out of me and stole the hearing from my right ear.”
“The orgasm deafened you?” I asked, licking a breast.
“Temporarily, yes. And as I enjoyed a post-coital rest, my remaining ear was filled with your snores.
“I giggled as I hoisted myself off you. I removed the condom from your slowly softening cock, kissed your cheek, and went into the bathroom to take a piss.
“I stayed in the bathroom giggling for a few minutes, then got into bed, a big smile plastered on my face.”
“Mitzi, that is so hot,” I said, reaching for a condom. “Wish I had been there to appreciate it.”
“Me too,” she smiled as I entered her. “It was really great sex.”
The life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
When told by my wife that our fifteen-year relationship was over, I found that everything in my life was upended. I took solace when friends and family pointed out I was no longer responsible for her personal happiness, just my own—and that of my four children.
I went into marriage as a bisexual kid, suspicious of monogamy. I was a good husband, and played by the rules. Now I'm single again, and wondering if I didn't have it right back then.
This blog picks up my new life in progress—the life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
Photograph by Adrian Buckmaster Photography. New York, NY. July 5, 2015.
(c) 2004-2019. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
Jefferson
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I went into marriage as a bisexual kid, suspicious of monogamy. I was a good husband, and played by the rules. Now I'm single again, and wondering if I didn't have it right back then.
This blog picks up my new life in progress—the life of a parent, and pervert, in New York City.
Photograph by Adrian Buckmaster Photography. New York, NY. July 5, 2015.
(c) 2004-2019. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.
Jefferson
View My Complete Profile
4 comments:
No kidding, Muffin?
Gee, now that we have discovered our shared gift, we should get together and sleep through some great sex.
I wonder if there is a fetish for sex in sleep . . . maybe called "narcophilia" . . . perhaps we could start up a narcophilic orgy . . .
Gives new meaning to the phrase 'sex toy!' And the snoring must be verrry erotic. Heh. D.L.
oh, and by the way, she's not the only one who's had sex with you while you were sleeping. (marcus clears his throat, ah- hem, as notated in some previous blog entry several months back)
'twas not screaming that brought about my momentary deafness, but the enormity of orgasmic waves that pulsed through my body.
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