He was sitting on the couch when I came in. The day went by quickly- knowing he was in my place waiting for me when I came home. He offered to have dinner started when I got home from work, but I told him to wait. He could walk to the store and buy the ingredients, but don’t start preparing anything yet. He was still pouting that I did not meet him at lunch but I had things to do. He would have to wait.
I put my purse down and slipped off my shoes. He rested the Time Magazine on the table in front of him and stood to kiss me. I stopped to look at him. His hair was freshly washed; I could still smell the soap on him. I suspected if I went down the hall the mirror would still be fogged. I found it cute that he did all the primping, only to plant himself on the couch and try to look like he had not been waiting for me.
I reached into the bag from my lunchtime shopping trip. He saw the words on the bag and immediately smiled at me. “I got something today,” I told him- letting his hands move up and under my shirt. He unhooked my bra and scooped my tits into his hands before lowering his head to push his face into them. His worship of my tits seemed to be something he loved to do several times a day and I was not about to stop him. I felt his grabbing them hard, biting on my nipples until the moment I gasp- and then he releases and moves to the other one. This time not letting go at my gasp, but lingering there longer.
His hand pushed up my skirt and he felt the thick lace of my panties. They were his favorite ones- by feel alone. He moaned softly moving his lips up my neck, his fingers rubbing over the lace that covered my pussy. He traced his fingers over the lace design; I could feel his cock getting hard under his jeans. “What did you buy, dear?” he whispered into my flesh.
Bag still in hand, I reached in and pulled out the pink lacey material. “These aren’t for me. They’re for you.” I dropped it on the couch and let him take a moment to look at it, in a crumbled ball on the leather sofa. Soft pink, lacey panties like the ones I was wearing right now. His favorite, by feel alone.
“For me?” he looked a little shocked, smirked, but did not laugh. I reached down and grabbed his cock over his jeans.
“Yes- I want you to put this on- the pretty tank top that matches. And make my dinner.”
Pulling him into my bedroom, I played with his cock over the lace. He was hard from wearing them through dinner prep and the meal. I had been teasing him for an hour. Pushing him over the counter and spanking his ass over the lace with a wooden spoon. Pinching his nipples through the corset type matching top he was wearing. He cock was solid and there was a wet spot from precum. I pulled them down, letting his hard cock spring free as I sucked him down into my mouth. On my knees for him, he grabbed my hair, forcing me to take him in deep. His cock sliding perfectly down my throat. With his other hand he continued to finger the heavy lace that he loves so much.
He was so sexy and uncontrolled. His resolve was weak after so much build up and I knew he wanted to blow into my mouth- but I was going to ask him to wait- just for a moment. Moving away from him, I laid down on the bed. When I didn’t remove my own panties he knew that I wanted him to fuck me with them on, something he loves to do- but not in these ones. These ones that are his favorite. Gripping and stroking his cock now, his balls and ass cradled in the same lace- he moved down on me, pulling the panties aside and sliding his cock inside me.
He was surrounded by this lace- it rubbed against his shaved pubis, under him and behind him. His eyes were wide from the sensory overload while he pumped his cock into mine, again and again. I thrust up at him, staring deep into his eyes. Knowing that he was struggling to hold back and it would become increasingly hard the way he was thrusting hard and deep into me this way.
“Wait,” I told him, feeling his body start to tremble, “Not yet.” He groaned at me, slowed a little, but continued to thrust deep inside me- unwilling to stop the feeling- the friction. I could see him, eyes closed, concentrating on controlling his orgasm, even though he did not slow his movements.
He knew to make me cum first. He leaned down hard over me, one hand pinning me down with a handful of hair, thrusting deeper and harder. Growling into my ear, “Cum for me, you fucking whore.”
I let go, cumming and soaking his cock, my legs wrapped around his lace covered ass- pulling him into me again and again. His cock was as rigid and demanding now as I’d ever felt him. I knew he was starting to ache, “Please…” he whispered, finally unable to hold back any further.
“On the panties,” I whispered to him. He moved and barely pulled his cock out of me in time before he started to shoot thick white spurts of cum from his cock. I grabbed him and jerked it- his sex oozing and shooting on my panties and on his. He groaned out loud- “Fuck Fuck Fuck!!” His cock drained every last drop of cum while I watched him, eyes closed, lost in his own fuck.
He opened his eyes and looked down at us. Flesh and lace covered in cum. He used his still dripping cock now, to trace the lacey cum-wet pattern. They were even prettier now.