Getting out of the shower, I watched him on the bed leaning up on one elblow, totally naked with that wanting smile on his face. He looked back at me and he did not have to say anything as his fingers slowly massaged his hardness. A gestured silent invitation of what he wanted.
It had been a few days since I was able to ride him. I too was wanting desperately. To get the most out of him was going to be obvious. This was going to be hot sticky sex and I was going to call “his shots” literally. My gift and a long ride to a wonderful climax for us both.
His teasing was usual. Over the years we had grown to know what was to be expected like all healthy sexual couples. He had aloud to let his chest hairs grow, which I loved with shaved face and clearly shaved pubes around his cock and balls, enhancing them, drawing my attention to them. I smiled, removing my bathrobe and kneeled on the bed beside him, letting him gently cosset each of my breasts softly, giving attention to my aroused nipples whilst I took his throbbing cock in my grip.
He lay back, moaning softly to my touches, my stroking whilst he slightly raised his hips in response. He was not far from coming. He had either anticipated having sex while I was in the shower, or the sight of me watching him stroking had him in a state of almost on edge. Each time I moved my grip upwards around the base of his glans, tiny streams of precum began to emerge, running over my playful fingers.
I was not going to waste his “gift” for me. I so much needed it there and then as my love juices began to flow between my yOni lips. I took him into my mouth and slowly began to suck, using my grip to pump him gently to his orgasmic release, filling my mouth with warm loads of thick man cum. With my other hand and fingers I began to play with my clitty, already swollen with my excitement.
His creamy gift seemed to continue coming, filling my mouth with more warm spunk with its exquisite taste. I let him taste my juices from my fingers, he sucked and moaned louder, calling out my name. It was what he wanted, even though still fresh and almost tasteless after my shower, the thought it was my juices seemed to drive him crazy. The best was yet to come as I swallowed and held his flaccid yet still half erect cock in my hand…
We both exchanged words of love and devotion to each other, embarking into a deep meaningful passionate kiss.
During our passionate kissing he did not mind the taste of his own cum on our tongues and lips. I straddled him, locking his cock firmly between my yOni lips and waiting for him to harden once more. I could feel the heat of his balls between my buttocks as we continued to kiss.
I loved it when he called me offensive names in my ear. My favourite was “You fucking dirty slutty cunt.” For some reason it made me feel good, so true and he knew it I suppose. A description I earned over the years of my sexual freedom. But obscene though it was. I would be deeply offended if someone told me that if I was not in the throes of love making.
He requested to “eat me out” which had been a while. Over the months I had transformed the way he did it slowly, so that he would make it feel more like it was another woman doing it to me, knowing that I needed that fem-on-fem intimate contact of making love through meaningful oral sex because I missed my female lover.
We moved to the couch where I could get comfortable and slide forward. He moved between my raised thighs and I was wide and open. It was up to him to make me feel a deeply sexual woman as I prepared myself for some amazing orgasms. I hope he was ready to take my releases and drink my love until I was taken to my ultimate. I was so hot, there was no telling when that would be.
He gazed up at me as he moved in closer. Again, no words needed to be said.
He did exactly what I wanted him to do. He teased my waxed outer lips gently, round and round with his tongue using his fingers to open me wider, dipping them in so that I could feel them on my sensitive internal tissue, vaginal opening and pee hole. I could feel tingling running up and down my spine at the same time as my opening fully relaxed. My clitty, denied of attention was patiently waiting and then that first gentle touch with the tip of his tongue made me gasp. It felt like electricity had just shot through my body.
He placed two fingers inside of me and twisted, using his thumb on my clitty. He was in every sense finger fucking me, two then three, twisting them, perhaps a stray finger in your anus, and licking my clit with his adept tongue, slowly taking me to the edge. It became a combination of riding my orgasm and at the same time releasing my juices for him to swallow. When I groaned and cried out uncontrollably, he would remove his fingers and drink “my gift for him”, anything from a trickle to a full squirt each time, depending on how wild it made me. Absolutely amazing!
Usually, I was always ready for more of those tiny (multiple) orgasms, barely recovering from the last and almost driving me into a state of unconsciousness. Once at that level, you can ignore your surroundings quite easily. It was you and your almost endless orgasms. You cannot forget the man doing that to you, as your hands reach out to his head to run your fingers through his hair. The more you do that, the more he gives until your whole body goes numb.
Once again, you both kiss passionately, showing both lust and love for one of nature’s gifts. Sharing his fingers in your mouth gives that amazing taste of sex, made within your own deepest intimate parts. It was time to ride his cock and seek more pleasure.
When he stood up his cock was already standing to attention. He was incredibly hard, almost upright and dribbling with even more precum. It was obvious that the oral sex he had performed on me had made him intensely horny. I could not stop him from placing his idle fingers into my now wet and sticky yOni and sampling the taste as he took his cock in his hand, almost begging for more of my taste of sex.
We were both wanting. Our sexy venture was not over, but he now seemed the more desperate partner. I, the most willing. Whatever pleased him in foreplay also pleased me. He wanted me on the bed and to kneel, thighs open, doggy style. I hoped he would not enter me yet, but instead he turned me to the edge of the bed so that he could get his face between my buttocks, spreading them with his tongue licking my yOni lips and anus. It felt totally amazing, making me almost edge an orgasm, but I waited for it. His hand slapped my buttock hard. Whether I liked it or not, I had to take it and make him feel pleasured by doing it. He continued for a while, changing his slaps from one buttock to the other until he had enough. His cock still remained hard and erect, and he had consumed all of my love juices, for the present moment.
I took myself from the bed and held him tightly; deep passionate kisses to let him know that it was time to get down to our “shared” moment of sex. Riding that amazingly hard cock of his that would only fit part inside of me during the first few thrusts in the over excited state he was in.
He confessed to me that he wanted to fuck me doggy style. Having my preference to riding him “jockey” style I was disappointed. Riding him was always great for me and I began to wonder if I was being unreasonable? It was true; we had not done doggy style in months. It took away the enjoyable control I needed. With him being too hard for me, he tended to get too rough and it hurt sometimes. We think we are compatible, but not always. After giving birth twice, I am still unable to stretch for those ferocious thrusts he can make during his sexual excitement. Jockey style I can “adapt”, having control over both our thrusts, mine especially.
My love for him goes very deep and I know it is visa versa. All those years he had put up with me safely having sex and at one point through my curiosity, he rescued me. I was the lucky one, not him. And so our marriage vows dictate that I now totally belong to him, no matter what, and I know he would never hurt me.
He sat on the bed and lay down, propping his head on the supporting pillows. A sign that he had agreed to my wishes. I gave him a smile in return as I straddled his hips, his cock now touching my belly. With both hands gripping his shaft gently I pulled back his foreskin exposing his very silky smooth glans wet with his precum. I loved the look and feel of his veins, pulsing and throbbing with his blood, almost wanting me to hand job or blow him once again. He returned his smile and that sound he made drawing in his breath which told me he was ready for whatever I had in mind to satisfy him.
I hitched myself up and placed his cock between my yOni lips, allowing myself to ease him into me gently. He was so hard, I concentrated on releasing my automatic kegels, so that I could get him deep inside. His eyes watched, no doubt feeling my initial tightness. He raised his hips slightly, anticipating a thrust inwards on his behalf. I could soon feel him deep inside of me, but as usual, not all of his entire length. His girth was no problem, which made that initial thrust downwards easy.
At last I was in my favourite position, leaning forwards with my hands on his shoulders as we once again passionately kissed. His cock now sliding nicely into place as I began my gentle slow jerks, feeling him exactly where I wanted. Both of us felt something good as we began to groan and thrust within each others time. This could now go on forever as far as I was concerned. He responded by holding onto my buttocks, spreading them to make things feel good and much more easier at that point. No spanking this time. Just squeezing gently.
To get the full effect of me riding him I knelt up, thighs across his hips. Soon, we were literally screwing like mad amidst our moans of ecstatic pleasure. I could feel his cock deep inside of me. The feel and sound of my own love juices had already lubricated our rhythm. Once more I could naturally tighten my kegels around his dick. My thrusting downwards was all it needed. My control on my edging orgasms one after another, and holding back on the “big one”. His hands massaged my breasts, paying attention to twisting and pulling my nipples as I ran my manicured fingernails through his thick chest hair. I loved the feel of his chest hair in combination with my riding on his cock, no longer feeling so hard, but just right in the midst of my own creamy, sticky cum. The air was filled with the aroma of our sex, which only made us more excited.
After a while, he told me that he had cum, groaning out loudly. But there was no reason to say anything. I could feel him shoot his warm load into me and a sign for me to edge my final orgasm into my climax with his, long and prolonged, which he assured me was much better second time around in his case. My cries and quaking of amazing experience was well timed with his. It was always a mystery to him how I managed to achieve that, but it was simple. Compared to the number of orgasms he himself could achieve, I could easily amass more than him naturally.
He pulled me towards him, both of us wanting to show our affection in the usual way. And, in sex there was not only foreplay. I was a great admirer of “afterplay”. Slowly his cock became flaccid and slid from my kegel grip with help of our juices. It would be hours before I could make him hard again But that did not stop him from fingering me, collecting our juices and placing his fingers in my mouth to suck. His method of afterplay no doubt?
My idea of afterplay was different and more romantic. We would share a shower together, but before soaping each other up I would want to taste our sex. We would both enter the shower and the cascade of refreshing warm water. He would stand and I would squat before him, gripping his thighs, taking the whole of his limp large cock into my mouth and throat as much as I could. The feel and taste was so devine, and looking up at his expression as he moaned increased my enjoyment even more.
I loved the way he would soap my hair, running his fingers through my dark blonde locks. It had always been a wish of his when I was younger to grow my hair longer, but that was for me to decide. There he would cross my personal line as it were. Even though today, since our marriage, we had special vows where I was his, I still kept some of those personal limits.
If I liked the taste on his cock I would deep throat, even though he was not erect. I loved to gag on it, covering it with my saliva. Over the past years I had learned how to deep throat on men, hard or soft. The most amazing way was to do it by gagging pleasantly. It was psychological. You were actually choking on a cock and giving him pleasure, which in turn would give you pleasure.
To my surprise, I must have been doing something good. I could feel him slightly hardening once more. We stood up facing each other in that warm cascade of water, kissing deeply, touching so sensitively our hyper erogenous zones as we began to finally wash each others bodies. This was one of many ways of afterplay to me.
It is always good to know those erogenous zones. Those parts of the body that when touched or caressed make you “turned on” or horny. My most exposed is my earlobes and inner thighs. Kiss or lick them and I go crazy, wanting more and most of all wanting sex if they are indulged too much.
That day we were all alone and in no fear of having our freedom restricted. After the shower we decided to remain as nature intended… naked, in the warm tropical sunshine of our villa swimming pool. There was plenty to drink. I had my merlot and him being a typical UK city body from Newcastle, he had his supply of cans of beer.
We were two people technically from different British backgrounds. I was I suppose, the more “cultured”. Without me, we would not be living the lifestyle we had, and this I am sured commanded some control over him on my behalf despite our new marital situation. So far, marriage was good. Over the past years, I had been given sexual freedom and not many young mothers with partners had that position in life.
Whilst he was on the poolside li-lo, I returned to him to hand him another can of beer. It had been a good few hours since our last sexual playtime that morning, and despite the amount of beers he had drank over the past hours he was hard once more. I looked down at him and we cuddled-up. I was curious as to what made him so horny but never asked. I did not need to. That kiss he initiated and the way he ran the cold can along my thigh was enough. It was obvious he had wanting thoughts, but I was hungry for lunch.
We agreed to go into town for a late lunch, just a short cab ride away from our villa. Already it was becoming sunset as the days were still short even in the mid winter Mediterranean. But there was something he needed to do and that was fuck me doggy style before we embarked on our evening.
Again, there was that incompatability. I could not take it in my ass doggy style. I was not naturally made to take his cock without pain, him being big and me being small, and so the next best thing was obviously my yOni, which I could accommodate quite easily.
In his younger days he would often enjoy fucking in this way. Missionary or jockey was something rare until he and I met, and of course began fucking on a regular basis. The first sexual experience I had with him was giving him a casual blow job. No love involved although despite our age difference he was slowly making me “like” him until it turned into real love between us. He was surprised to find out that I was not a virgin, but from the occasional fucks, I was a blow job slut because I loved it so much no matter what age I shared oral sex with.
I began to kneel on the li-lo and leaned forwards so that my buttocks were in the highest point. That way he could stand comfortably to open me up. He used his fingers deep inside of me first stroking my g-spot to help make plenty of my creamy love juice. It felt good, but not as good as full penetration. I asked him to do me a favour and make me cum first so that I could enjoy a full orgasmic climax and make myself even more wet and sticky.
He slowly played with my clitty, fingertips pressing and turning until I could feel myself getting closer and closer by the second. Again, he began to call me offensive names which just made it all the more exciting. I was cumming hard and fast and did not expect such an amazing release. I do not often squirt so much, but this one I could feel and hear like it was a hose going off. It always surprises me where it all comes from, reinforcing the theory that most of it is actually pee.
This gave him no hesitation as he grabbed my buttocks and thrust deep inside of me as far as I could take him. Still riding my orgasm, I was almost oblivious to him. He held himself inside until I began to stop quaking and then took long slow strokes into me. The feel of his hardness was compensated by my kegels, tightening around him. I just hoped he would not spank me… something I really did not like.
I could feel his tightening grip on my buttocks and that tell tale hint that he was about to cum. His moaning turned to one long groan and then the breathless silence as I felt his body quake. I too was close to orgasm, but not quite, when I felt his load of gorgeous warm cum shoot deep into me. There was one thing he insisted upon which I allowed him to do and that was let his final load release between my yOni lips. I wished sometimes they were the lips around my mouth so that I could taste.
What I did do though was put my fingers inside of myself and smear his cum on my lips and tongue to share in a passionately deep kiss. He did not mind the varied tastes of his own cum and our sex.
He insisted I wore the tight burgundy figure hugging low cut dress he had recently purchased for me. The cost of which I was left guessing because it had been made by a private dressmaker in San Antonio. I loved it no matter what it cost and it was priceless. The only underwear he insisted upon was black lycra stockings and matching suspender belt. He himself had chosen his olive green jacket and black slacks, which left little to the imagination when he was aroused. He loved to use body language to flirt silently with other woman and those like me who liked their men to sport dark chest hair, a half buttoned white shirt. He looked good enough to eat before we had a chance to let the evening go by. No nightclubs this time. This was to be a romantic dinner for two at our favourite beach restaraunt.
Normally we would ask out local friends, whether a meal or a night out clubbing, but he explained to me how much he wanted this particular evening to be ours alone together. To me that was cool. We had never done such a thing in a long time and with our daughters staying with friends, the whole night and following morning was ours. When you have children adult quality time was hard to “come” by in many ways than one.
At the restaurant it was difficult to avoid male acquaintances who admired me. I could feel their eyes looking at me, especially wearing that tight dress and leaving nothing to the imagination. Often, some would see me topless at the beach parties and usually make a bee line for me for a chat. I was only average when it came to breasts, which proved to me that most men did not really care that much for the larger woman in the boob stakes. It was just a novelty. What they really wanted to know is how you performed in sex, and to those alpha males, how much you can satisfy, just like it was in high school or college. That is where I learned not to succumb to most of their desires and wants for them to lay you, to sexually conquer you. With me they would mostly have to accept a hand job, which was satisfying even to me. There was nothing more amazing at the time of how much you could make him liberate his fountain of creamy desire… fast and furious sometimes, allowing me to learn my techniques.
My dress allowed my shoulders to be exposed and a strange man approached us at our table whilst we were eating. He stood at our table and closer to me to place one hand on my shoulder, freely touching. He was looking at my body, my emphasised boobs, asking where we had come from. Perhaps that was only part of his reason for being intimate by chance. I remained silent as my man answered his questions, enjoying the attention I was getting. The man seemed to be new to the island and a sight-seer in many ways. Their conversation continued for quite a while as the gazes of the man became more intent on my body, still with his hand on my shoulder. I smiled and winked at my companion, and calmly he asked the man, “You wouldn’t be wanting to fuck my wife by any chance would you?”… I did not expect that remark and neither did the stranger who apologetically moved on.
Apart from the usual marriage vows, there was a rule. I accepted it, again for the number of years of sexual freedom he had allowed me over the years. That rule was quite clear to me, and if by any chance he would bring along another man or woman, he would insist watching us have oral sex and at the end, reaching his climax, share his cum on my face. We had already done it once since we had been married to break the ice.
The third person was a work colleague of his, handsome and young. I confess, I enjoyed every moment of the act. He said I would and promised that if it should happen again, then I would never be disappointed. These were his terms and I was willing to obey. It was now time to become a responsible wife and mother to our children, and those earlier days of being “unfaithful” on my own selfish part were over.
In the restaurant we enjoyed a variety of local sea food. The best I have ever tasted and the reason we had chosen that place. Sea food to both of us was an aphrodisiac, especially with the right white wine chosen again by the trusted waiter, Stephano.
Stephano was one of many young locals I had fancied. And, Stephano was one who I had chance to make love to during one of my visits on vacation to Ibiza. I knew he still remembered by the way he grinned and winked at me, although it had been a good few years in the past. He had left me with great memoirs of amazing sex and so filthy that I can hardly believe I had got involved. Stephano was one of those who took sex to its limits, especially when he had the obligations of delivering exactly what I desired. Sex with Stephano in those days lasted all night through, from dusk till dawn and personally I would love to go there again, despite the fact that we were both ten years older now.
I dare not ask my man to suggest one of his threesomes with Stephano. That would have to remain in his hands, although he probably knew how much I would love it for old time sake. Just to experience that amazing oral sex either way. It was something my man had to want desperately. But Stephano could fuck amazingly well, and the rules were oral sex only. My man would no longer allow another man’s cock inside of me, even though I trusted myself to take precautions.
As our gorgeous waiter delivered the wine and moved from our table, I could not help gazing at him. “Don’t bother. He isn’t yours any more…” My man told me. I knew he would make a comment. Not only was I gazing, but I was growing moist on the thought of those unforgettable evenings. Still, I can always remember and fantasise.
Once dinner was over, we headed for the restaurant veranda, lit up by chains of LED lights. The sun had already set hours previously leaving the night sky covered in a light cloud reflecting the lights of the clubs in the area. The cool winter Mediterranean breeze felt good on my skin, but what was more enchanting was the way he took me into his arms and we kissed. That feeling had never changed over the years for either of us. It still gave me shivers down my spine, and like the first time, it still had that special magic. Amazing what a deep meaningful kiss can do to you. Nobody else but my fem lover could do that to me.
I told him I loved him as I locked my fingers between his on both hands, and he replied likewise squeezing them and then telling me what I was doing to him in a low sexy voice. It was time to leave and return to our villa. There was plenty to do despite the amount of food and drink we had consumed. No matter what, it was time to play once more.
I could feel the cool breeze between my thighs and even more in my naked groin where the coolness seemed harsher. I was wet and thoughts, not only of Stephano, who watched us from a distance, of making love began to make me horny.
He took my hand and out of sight of those around. He let me feel his semi erect cock in his trousers and shorts beneath. “It’s all yours if you want it…” he whispered in my ear, gently kissing and licking it, turning me on even more. Of course I wanted it. At that moment I wanted all of him and him to want me. Make me feel so special.
Our cab had arrived, but I could not help give Stephano a smile. My man did not mind. He told me that in his eyes it was momentary flirting which only made me all the more aroused. He knew the kind of sexual imagination I had and yes, I was still capable of being a slut. Stephano, if it was allowed, would only have to let me have his cock and I would gladly let him soak me with those almost endless loads of thick creamy cum, drenching me and making my body sticky wherever they landed. I just wondered who the lucky girls, women or even men were who had that pleasure now. Thinking about it, I imagined that awesome stench of his spunk.
Once we reached the villa there was silence apart from the sound of chirping crickets. He began to unzip my dress at the back before we had even entered, unwrapping his second dessert of the evening I suppose. The thin straps fell from my shoulders and immediately the dress fell from my body, stepping out of it as it reached my heels. Just black stockings and suspenders and my buttocks exposed for him to caress.
In an instant he made my nipples stand to attention as he began to pull and twist. I just loved that feeling that sent shivers into my groin. My own hands did not remain idle as I felt around and discovered that he had already somehow freed his cock. He was quick, and it made my next desired move much easier, running my gripping fingers up and down it, exposing his sensitive glans and making him whisper sweet words this time, not offensive ones. As usual, with his hardness I could feel the dribbles of precum on my fingers, making them slightly tacky.
He rested his cock between my buttocks, asking me to just clench for a while. He was too preoccupied with my breasts and slowly his hands slid down over my belly to reach the warmth of my smooth outer lips, guarding the secret of my wet butterfly flaps beyond, moist and sticky with my sex. Slowly he opened me up with just two fingers and inserted them inside. It was simple natural instinct, because both male and female lovers become curious as to how much aroused one is. In the case of females it is our love juice or even precum, trapped in a dark bodily cavern, and he knew how much I loved being fingered deeper and deeper, letting me taste myself on his fingers.
It was difficult to resist if I wanted to. I buried my head more and more into his shoulder moaning softly for more. “You want it don’t you… fucking bitch”. Those offensive words were beginning to emerge once again, but I did not care. He quickly grabbed my shoulders and turned me around to face him. “On your fucking knees!” This time he shouted. It was a command and I did it. His semi hard cock was protruding from the fly of his pants. Even semi erect he was solid enough to take. But I wanted him hard and almost upright to full erection. He let me unclip his pants and pull them to his knees whilst he made it twitch, letting me know that the muscle and tissue within was supple. That was fine by me. He was just where I wanted him and getting him harder was going to be no mean task. Once again before taking him into my grip I had to admire the complexity of the network of veins and tissue, especially once erect, the way his urethra stood out on the underside that seemed so sensitive. But to me his most sensitive part was the glans.
I was deeply fascinated by cock… young, old, large or small, and that gift of the final orgasmic release. Again, I was reminded of those times with Stephano and began to replicate what I did with him. Taking my man in my grip and stroking, each time pulling right back his foreskin and then covering his entire glans whilst I used the tip of my tongue to tease. I could see by the expression on his face that he was enjoying it. The amount of alcohol we had both consumed made us neither more or less excited… infact, just right for playful teasing sex.
He was in the right position for me too. Standing. I could handle his length much better in attempting a deep throat, opening the muscles at the back of my mouth. And slowly I took him in deeper, holding onto his thigh with one hand and his swollen balls with the other. He obliged by not making any quick thrusts, so that I could eventually take all of his length before pleasantly gagging. “Oh fuck baby… suck it slow and gentle…” I did what he wanted, coating the whole length with my stringy thick saliva, whilst he gently stroked my hair.
One thing I did not really like was a man wearing his sox whilst making love to you. But due to their excitement of quickly undressing, the sox are the last item of clothing to be removed, if at all.
I continued with my slow easy blow job, using my grip just in case that was all he wanted. Even though I wanted more, his gift would satisfy my needs. I was pleased when he told me that he had had enough and it was time for me to be “eaten.” I loved that term, because that was just what it felt like in part. And, so I sat on the couch in our favourite position, my knees up and thighs wide. The exotic aroma of my sex was enough to send us both crazy, kneeling , hands touching my breasts and his tongue exploring every available inner part of my yOni, not roughly… just nice and satisfying, inducing my tiny orgasms so that I could edge them. It was difficult not to tug on his hair and cry out each time I came closer to the big one. “Just let it go baby… I want you to cum for me…” he told me. But no. I held on for a little while longer, enjoying what he was doing, consuming my love just for him. When I did climax, my yield was just enough for him to swallow.
He looked at me and smiled while I was still reeling in my orgasm. He came closer and pulled me even closer to the edge of the couch, and slowly he entered me with his cock. It felt just right and not too hard. With the help of the orgasm and the earlier embibement of alcohol I was within two minds of ecstasy and gripping his cock, with each stroke he made I was willing to let him fuck me forever, pulling him closer to me with my hands on his broad shoulders.
During the act, it was just the sound of our moans and groans and wet sloppy noises above the sound of those crickets chirping. Both of our lips and fingers became tactile and there was an occasion where I too used an offensive phrase towards him, begging him to give me more as our rhythm and pace quickened and slowed down now and then. I looked him in the eye and whispered loudly “Fuck me hard you bastard”. I wanted to cum again so much, but he had staying power, and to me that could only be good. This was intercourse sex at its best. And, to let him know it, I raised my legs resting them on his shoulders. I was beginning to cream his cock and that aroma of our sex grew even stronger around us.
He pulled out to position his head against my yOni once more. Licking, he wanted to consume some of our “candy” and share it in a deep meaningful kiss before entering me again. But it was not long before we both reached our climaxes simultaneously. He shouted out as I screamed, both our bodies trembling. We both lost the sense of where we were for just that brief moment in time.
He grabbed me and lay on the couch, pulling me atop of him so that we could kiss and regain our breathing and enjoy the contentment that followed. I listened to his heart beats as my head lay across his chest. It was only a matter of minutes before Morpheus came to us both, and with sex and alcohol playing its part, we slept contentedly, naked in each others arms.