The moon’s pouring in, a flood of it. Dribbles from the brilliant patch
on the ground comply with the drape of the covers as much as the mattress. It makes
the mattress rail a wealthy mahogany. Pillows and sheets gleam. Particular person
mud motes drift round. It’s vibrant sufficient to learn by. It’s vibrant
sufficient to wake him.
Rustling noises. They’re louder within the evening.
Shit. It’s a whisper.
Get up. That is louder. Get up. Do me. Extra rustling. Her proper arm
rises, her proper wrist touching its again to her eyes.
He doesn’t sleep in underwear. Solely a tee. He caresses himself. It’s
half up already, sticking up within the moonlight, rising from the darkish
patch. He pulls her arm.
Please, honey, no.
He’s nonetheless pulling her arm. It’s nearly plump above the elbow.
Do it.
A spaghetti strap curves down her higher arm. They’re nearly the identical
coloration, the strap and the arm, so solely the shadow stands out. Like a
smiley face. What coloration is the strap when it’s gentle out? Possibly palest
inexperienced and mauve.
I mentioned do me.
Crimson numbers glow on the evening stand. They are saying 2:18. They alter to
2:19.
Please, honey, I’m sleepy.
There’s the hum and rush of a automobile out on the road, then it’s gone,
getting quieter, quiet sufficient to listen to the fan circling above the mattress
in shadow, good and gradual, trying strobe-like.
Do it now. He’s louder. Mud motes scatter. A sigh. She’s up, turning
down her sheets, leaning to him.
No, do it bare.
A sigh.
And don’t give me that crap.
I’m not, honey. A sigh.
Know what’s good for you.
Please, honey, I’m doing it.
She kneels up, rucking up the robe, her stomach pooching out, then her
breasts are hanging, swinging whereas she works the bundle over her
head, getting it caught, working it. The button’s not open.
Hurry up.
The crimson numbers say 2:19. On the window there’s a stir of air and the
drapes transfer, simply barely. One thing goes “tick”; towards the wall.
It’s a pull-cord.
She’s nonetheless working the nightgown.
Hurry up! One other tick towards the sheetrock. It’s audible above the
rustling and the sound of a mattress spring as she works the button. He
caresses himself once more and watches. Then: “tick.” That’s all of the sound
there may be.
I’m sorry, honey.
The button pops and goes “plink” towards the dresser. The nightgown is
up and off, all of the sudden it appears, pulling her hair with it so it spills
out and falls to her shoulders. Down beneath, her nipples are darkish and
large and her panties are half-rolled down. She rolls them off, leans to
him, takes it in her hand, pulls it as much as her face.
No. Go down there. No fingers. Present me you like it.
She pauses, then curls down into the moonlight till she’s nearly
fetal, legs tucked, head on his stomach like a pillow. Maintain it deep.
Suck extra. Be candy about it. Two fingers on her head maintain her down.
Sucking. Sucking. The dick finishes rising inside her mouth, a sizzling,
corded factor with a rubber head that seeps onto her tongue. Hairs
tickle her nostril. A stray moonbeam lights up a few of them like sizzling
wires. Beneath the thighs his legs are in shadow. Solely his center is in
the sunshine. The dick head pops from her mouth, shiny with spit and
moonlight. She raises her head somewhat to suck it again in. One among her
fingers is on his thigh.
Now he pushes his hips, pushing it up into her mouth. She makes a
sound, however it’s muffled. She makes it once more. He’s prodding her. His
stomach strikes like a water mattress.
Preserve sucking.
He hisses to her, louder than the fan, louder than a hissing automobile. Sure.
Sure. That’s it. Sure. One hiss per thrust. Slowly. It’s too good to
waste. Push, then maintain it in her, then do it once more. He takes his time.
That’s proper. Nonetheless a hiss. Like that. You’re good, you cunt. You’re
good.
Moonlight illuminates his scrotum just some inches from her eyes.
It’s nearly flat towards his groin.
Lastly he strikes himself sooner into her. Out and in. Deeper. She
makes one other noise and pulls again a fraction, and he holds her head
tighter, gripping her hair exhausting, and he or she curls each fingers into balls.
Don’t cease, bitch. Into her. Out. Into her. He’s panting. Quicker.
Quicker.
It occurs.
Oh shit! Oh God! Jesus! Jesus! He retains transferring, quick little strokes,
adopted by tiny ones, panting and transferring, little strokes, little
jerks. She doesn’t make any extra sounds.
When he’s performed he lets go of her hair however retains maintain of her head.
That’s my candy bitch. You had been good. Now maintain it in. Preserve sucking.
Don’t let it go. Maintain it in.
He caresses her hair however in any other case lies quietly. Ultimately his fingers
merely relaxation on her head, then they slip to the mattress. His respiration
turns into common.
She stays in place. Lastly he begins loud night breathing. She pulls off him
slowly and rolls to her aspect of the mattress. His penis is smaller now, however
nonetheless shiny in what’s left of the moonlight. She doesn’t get her
panties or nightgown. She curls on her aspect dealing with him, pulls the
covers as much as her neck, and adjusts her pillow. She touches her lips
with the tip of her tongue and opens and closes her mouth a number of
occasions. Tasting. Tasting. She makes a face. Lastly she reaches a hand
out to the touch his arm, and closes her eyes.