The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the bedroom as I carefully balanced the tray in my hands. The sun peeked through the blinds, casting a warm glow on the rumpled sheets and my wife's sleep-tousled hair. She stirred as I placed the steaming mugs on the bedside table, the sound of the spoons tinkling against the porcelain. I slid into bed next to her, the coolness of the sheets a stark contrast to my warm body. She reached for her mug, wrapping her fingers around the handle with a soft groan of pleasure.
Our Sunday morning ritual was simple: coffee in bed followed by a lazy round of love-making. But lately, my body hadn't been cooperating. My age was showing, and my once-reliable erection had become more elusive than a shy teenager. We'd both felt the frustration, the unspoken tension that had started to creep into our routine.
Today, I could feel her subtle eagerness as I handed her the mug. Her eyes searched mine, looking for a hint of what was to come. I took a deep breath and set my own mug aside, placing my hand gently on her thigh. She responded immediately, her skin quivering under my touch. But as we kissed and her hand found my crotch, my body remained stubbornly unresponsive.
The first thing I like to do is going down on her. It's a thrill that never gets old, making her squirm and moan, tasting her sweetness that usually sets me off. I kissed a trail down her neck, over her collarbone, and between her breasts, her breath quickening with anticipation. Her fingers threaded through my hair as I reached her inner thighs. The scent of her arousal filled the air, making my mouth water. I parted her folds with my tongue and she gasped, her hips bucking up to meet me. Her taste was intoxicating, a heady mix of musk and sweetness that always made me hungry for more.
But today, even as I felt her wetness, my body was betraying me. I kissed her clit gently, swirling my tongue around the sensitive bud, and she responded with a whimper. I knew she wanted to ride me until we both found release, but my cock remained stubbornly uninterested, hovering between us like a lazy spectator.
With a sigh, I pulled away and looked into her eyes, searching for understanding. She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing a delicate shade of pink.
"Why don't you just lay back?" she whispered, a mischievous glint in her eye.
So, I did. She straddled my thighs, her warmth enveloping me as she took my cock in her hand. She began to stroke, her movements slow and deliberate, her thumb caressing the sensitive spot under the head. Her other hand wandered to my chest, pinching my nipples in a gentle rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through my body. I watched as her breasts bobbed with each movement, her breathing growing more ragged. But no matter what she did, my cock remained stubbornly soft.
"You know what?" I said, trying to hide my embarrassment, "Why don't you just do your thing and I'll watch."
She slid back and spread her legs wide, giving me the full view. Her hand slid down her belly to her mound, her fingers dancing over her clit, sending ripples of pleasure across her face. I mirrored her action, stroking my cock as I watched her intently. The sight was incredibly erotic, and I felt my arousal building, even though my body hadn't fully caught up yet.
Her movements grew more urgent as she watched me watch her. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, her eyes locked on mine as if drawing power from my gaze. Her hand moved faster, her middle finger circling her clit with increasing pressure. The wetness glistened on her inner thighs, and she was getting closer.
The sight of her was mesmerizing. Her pussy, my own personal porn show, was a vision of beauty and desire. I could see the delicate folds of her labia part as she teased herself, the pink flesh swollen and shiny. Her scent filled the room, a potent aphrodisiac that had my mouth watering. I stroked my cock in time with her rhythm, feeling it swell with each of her gasps.
Her eyes fluttered closed as she approached the edge, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I watched the tension build in her body, the muscles in her thighs tightening as she drew closer to climax. My hand worked faster now, my thumb pressing into the base of my shaft as I watched her pleasure herself. The sound of her wetness filled the air, a symphony of desire that had my heart racing.
I was nearly hard enough to penetrate her, but I didn't want to miss the show. I pressed the tip of my cock against her opening, feeling the heat of her arousal against my sensitive skin.
Her breath hitched as she felt me there, so close to entering her. She slowed her movements slightly, her eyes snapping open to meet mine. We shared a moment of raw, carnally charged understanding. Her hand danced over her clit, her eyes never leaving mine as she brought herself closer to the brink.
With a guttural moan, she threw her head back, her body convulsing as she came. Her walls tightened around my cock, even in its semi-hardened state, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. And then it was my turn. I stroked myself harder, watching her orgasm unfold with a primal intensity that had been missing from our recent encounters. The sight of her, lost in the throes of pleasure, was more than enough to push me over the edge.
My climax hit me, I pushed the head of my cock inside her, just enough to feel the warmth of her tightness, and then I let go. The first rope of cum shot into her, while the rest painted her outer labia and her fingers with my essence. She looked down at the mess with a mix of surprise and arousal, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of my release.
It was so different and yet so hot that we both actually liked it. The tension of the morning had melted away, replaced by a newfound excitement for our sexual exploration. We had discovered a new dimension to our love-making, one that didn't rely solely on traditional intercourse. We had stumbled upon a shared kink, a way to satisfy each other without the pressure of performance.
