Welcome to my first Wicked Wednesday!


We were drunk.

He more than me, but I hadn’t realized it until it was too late.

Dizzy, He laid down and, in less than a minute, His eyes were closed and His breathing deep.


I sat down on the bed. I laid back.

My legs squeezed tight against my pussy.

I was drunk. And horny.

My hand moved across my nipple as my foot ran up and down His leg, trying to see if He’d stir.

He didn’t. But I did.

My hand traveled down my body, fingers stretching over my ribs, flaring across my stomach, before sneaking under the lace of my panties, finding their way between my legs.

I was already wet.

I curled up next to Him, rubbing my whole leg over His this time. My fingers, now wet with my scent, moved over His bare nipples. They hardened beneath my touch, but He did not stir.

I dropped my mouth, my tongue swirling around it. This gained me a slight moan. A shift of weight, but nothing else.

Yet I was encouraged.

While my mouth lingered, my hand moved lower, to cup His balls. Filling my hand, my fingers wrapped around them, giving them a slow tug as my mouth trailed from His nipple to His cock.

My tongue moved from the base to the tip before engulfing the whole of Him in my mouth.

He began to grow.

Staying still, my tongue swirled around Him, His head, His ridge, until I was so full, the only movement left was to move up and down.

Which I did.

Over and over again.

And while His cock was eager to respond, He slept on.

But, like His cock, I, too, was eager.

Slipping my panties down my legs, I straddled over Him, rubbing my pussy against His hardness.

And I became wetter.

Bending over, I drew His nipple into my mouth as I lowered my cunt onto His cock.

He moaned.

Sitting up, I began to rock, forward and back, forward and back, grinding my clit against Him.

My right hand reached for my nipple, twisting it as my left reached back to cup His balls.

His eyes still closed, I could feel Him thrust back against me, movements so natural, they occur without thought or intent. My fingers squeezed tighter, and I could feel my orgasm building.

I pushed harder against Him, my cunt gripping His cock, and my back arched as I started to cum, biting my bottom lip to keep quiet.

He was still sleeping, after all.

The next orgasm was a soaker.

By the time the third racked through my body, I was exhausted, weak with the early morning hour, fluid loss, and too many shots and drinks.

And He was still asleep.

I disengaged. Rolled off Him.

Curled up under His arm, and kissed His chest.

“I love you, Sir. Sleep tight.”

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

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