One Fine Day

Jason reveled in the feel of her warm, moist sex. Their eyes met and held as he bent to kiss her mouth. As the kiss deepened, he thrust between her thighs. His penis grew harder and Sara’s movements became more urgent as the climax building inside of her gained momentum.

She didn’t want to climax in her panties, though, so she pushed him backward onto the bed. Jason smiled lazily as he lay on his back, his penis pointing straight in the air. He watched as Sara did a little striptease and a minute later her bra and panties lay on the floor next to the rest of her clothes.

“I take it you still keep the condoms in the top drawer?”

“Of course. Right next to that tape I made of us.”

“Don’t be funny. You’re never going to get me on tape, buddy, so quit hoping.”

She got a condom, opened it and straddled him. “So, you’d just as well be happy with the memories.” She rolled the condom onto his penis, and positioned it at the opening of her vagina. Jason pushed slightly, but she was tight, which he loved, and they both took their time as they gazed into each other’s eyes.

He reached up and simultaneously rolled her nipples between the forefinger and thumb of each of his hands. He loved the deep golden brown richness of her skin. In summer it took on an even darker golden tone underneath the medium brown hue. With her black glistening braids she looked like an African goddess born of the sun.

He yelled. While he’d been waxing poetic, his goddess had accepted him fully inside of her body and was riding him with abandon. Her nipples were distended, her eyes were closed in ecstasy and her thrusts were strong, rhythmic and relentless.

It took a minute for it to register in his fevered brain that he was no longer in control here. As if he’d ever been. Her vaginal muscles squeezed him and released him, bestowing on him such a riot of sensual gratification that all he could do was smile and roll with it.

Between intermittent kisses to his mouth, his chest, his chin, she took her fill of him and didn’t seem to be anywhere near being done with him. It was as if she was making up for the three weeks they had been apart.

Surprisingly, though, her movements were not frantic, as if release were her only goal. No, she moved slowly and luxuriously, as if she were relishing every thrust of his body inside of hers, as if nothing had ever been more fulfilling.