It is 8am Sunday morning; an ocean haze is hanging over the ground outside of the window of the room we are in. Late yesterday when we got into the hotel after the wedding the surroundings of the room were not visible. But this morning the quiet of early morning mist is tantalizing my barely opened eyes with a muted view of the ocean; even in the misty aqua blue air it is spectacular. The peace of early morning is quietly punctuated by the rhythmic muffled crash of the waves on the beach below our balcony. Other than the waves breaking on the beach the only other noise outside is the quiet chat of morning walkers enjoying the solitude of the surf before the onslaught of beach goers. Our floor to ceiling window accesses our own private terrace outside our room. It is a divinely peaceful morning on the beach in Cape May New Jersey. We are here because of a family wedding last night. Weddings are romantic for the newlyweds whose wedding it is, but also they are romantic for those who are there and in love and who walked the walk and spoke the vows years earlier. That is us.
I am laying here quietly with my arm around my beautiful and sexy J as she sleeps fitfully. Her breathing is quiet and measured; she is sleeping and squirming a little. Her head is in the crook of my neck under my chin and my hand is between her shoulder blades in the middle of her back. I tilt my head down and kiss the top of her head, inhaling her hair as I enjoy the warmth of her head on my lips. Looking down at her I return my eyes to the view of the ocean and a sensual peace descends on me. Her hair is scented by her shampoo, her own scent and an undertone of the salty ocean air. We were on the beach both during and after the wedding late last night.
She is sleeping in a silk nightgown. She has a couple of them: she splurges on silk every so often …she loves it ….so do I. For her it is their lightness and their drape )she is a fashion design person(. For me it is the feel of silk on her skin and the way it transmits her warm femininity to the touch of my palm.
As we are lying in bed my hand moves down over the small of her back, moving in a frictionless slide along the skin like fabric to the dimples on her derriere. I rub the muscular swell of her rear and move my hand to the small of her back and rest it there. She snuggles up closer to me enjoying the warm caress of my hand on her back in her half sleep. I feel the warmth of her body radiating through the slinky fabric.
My mind wanders back to last evening. She wore another silk item, this one an elegant dress; it was very tailored. As I said she loves silk. One of her students designed and made it for her as a final project. Talk about a way to get points with a faculty member. It is a midnight blue number that was custom made to fit her body. It is form fitting but not vulgarly tight. She looks amazing in it. It shows off her 6 foot, 135 lb lithe form; she is still as sexy as she was when she was 22. If anything she has grown more sophisticated and elegant with age.
She has a wonderful figure. So much so that when we are on the dance floor younger guys watch her with interest. I am proud that other younger male eyes are on my lovely lady’s hips and chest while we dance. As we caress on the dance floor my hand is on the middle her back holding her muscular lithe form.
During the slow dances, the silk works its magic. Magic is the only way I can describe it. The silk feels invisible; it is as if she is dancing nude with me in front of dozens of admiring eyes. The fantasy image of that causes my cock to stiffen. As we are pressed up against her I can feel every one of her curves under the thin fabric that separates her sexiness from my own hardened eagerness. But more than the form or the heat of the fabric, the silk seems to have another amazing impact on her femininity.
This mystical fabric that is wrapped closely around the sweet sexy form seems to absorb her sensuality and magnify it tenfold. Her sensual energy is radiated by the dress; it is amplified from her body, radiating out and penetrating me. Her radiant sexual charm is so powerful that it passes through my suit and grasps my cock, teasing it to extend itself and fully harden. As I am dancing with her I feel her sensual charm, blowing thru my clothes and over my skin like a warm summer breeze; it is like a mysterious force that I am unable to fathom.
However my erect penis is uniquely aware of her sexual energy; it has not only sensed it but it is shrouded in it. Her sexuality has captured my awaking cock and has wrapped itself around my hardened spike. The caress of her sensual energy was gently pulling on my stiffening manhood, coaxing it to bask in the heat of her radiant sensuality. As my cock hardened to her silent urging, my bloodstream was being flooded with a cocktail of hormones that filled my head with lusty desire.
I was almost swooning. In my semi stupor I clung to her silken covered heat for some sense of reality. My iron hard cock was drawn to her as if she was magnetic. Her matter of fact sensuality was intoxicating me. As we swayed to the music I was lulled into a drunken erotic haze. All I could do is hang onto to her sweet silken form for an anchor to reality . . . but her feminine heat is cruel. Her sensual energy drives me deeper and deeper into erotic oblivion. As I harden, the sap begins to flow from deep inside of me drooling into my underpants. I am soaking my pants with the sweet clear emulsion of my need for her. Like Icarus I was flying into the sun: I was melting in the heat of my own lust but I didn’t care.
From that first dance she ignited a fire in my balls, setting my semen to a rapid boil; deep inside of me the liquid essence of my masculinity was steaming. My own sexual heat had that had hardened my cock was inspiring me to deliver my sweet hot cocktail deep into her. I needed her. As I held her in my aroused embrace we danced until late into the night, then we danced some more. The hardened flesh between my legs throbbed with need and she carelessly ignored it as we both enjoyed the denial of lust and enjoyed the rhythm of the evening. The denial of sexual satisfaction and the rhythm of dance make for mysterious and wonderful caresses and lusty kisses; expressions of physical love given in front of dozens and dozens of eyes shamelessly We danced and clung to each other in response to the music and the passionate heat that was welling up in both of us. Ultimately the combination drove us to exhaustion.
At 2 AM after the continuation of the wedding that had moved into the bar of the hotel hours earlier finally broke up, we were exhausted. We walked back to our room and flopped into bed. We were asleep before our heads hit the pillows. So after a deep sleep here I was six hours later holding my lovely sweetheart in the luxuriously soft hotel bed, with the unmistakable light of the seashore streaming in the window. And again here was her silken garment awakening in me the same rhapsodic song in my soul; that song was stiffening me with the resolve to fuck her as long and as hard as I could. The music that her body was inspiring in me was deep and resonant. It was a song that not only hardened my cock but stirred my brain in desperate need to show her how much I loved her and how much I sired to be in her and leave a liquid testimony of my love deep in her vagina. As she lay against me, my penis was resting against the cruel silk on her thigh; the hot clear juice from inside of me was drooling all over her silky nightgown. Again the cum deep inside me began to bubble and steam as it responded to the magic of her femininity wrapped in silk.
As she slept my hands roved over her soft sweet form; my stroking hand was facilitated by the sensual covering of shimmering cloth. My hand wandered all over her, following the cleft that led down to her puckered opening, and lingering there for a second as my finger drew the heat from her. She squirmed slightly.
I slid my hand over the sensual fabric leaving a warm tingling trail in my wake. I came up to a breast and I cupped it in my large warm hand, the silk transmitted the heat instantly. As I caressed her soft orb, I felt her nipple rise and harden in my hand; it pressed against my palm as it awakened to my insistent touch. My hand released her breast to the coolness of the air, causing her nipple to harden even more and show its aroused form against the drape of silk that covered it. I trailed between her breasts and followed the path that my hand had traced so many times . . . . the path to her warm feminine orifice. The heat radiating between her thighs was formidable. As I got closer to the groove of her pussy I could feel it.
I brought my hand to her vulva and caressed it gently, transmitting my heat thru the dress to combine with the womanly heat that emanated from her steaming pussy. The weight of my hand on her sex caused her to sigh in her sleep. I rested my hand there and thought about her growing arousal, an arousal that was breaking through her hazy consciousness and bringing her to my aching penis. Under the fabric I could feel the dampness in her crotch welling up, rising to the mouth of her vagina in sloppy affirmation of her own growing need. I bent my finger into the keyway of her sex and pushed the silken fabric into her wetted groove. The silken cloth became coated with her own hot emulsion and became exquisitely slippery. Ever so slowly I began to very gently rub the slippery wetted silk over her clit and around the mouth of her canal. The more I slid it around the more thoroughly coated with her juice it was.
The stimulation was drawing her gently out of her sleep: her eyes blinked and she gave me a wicked smile as she stretched, arched her back and thrust her pelvis against my hand as her body awakened to daylight and her sex awakened to the devotion of my probing finger.
My cock was aching with desire. I had been in an almost steady erection since early evening the night before. I leaned into her ear and whispered in her ear the deep love I had for her and the depth of my physical need to make love to her. Over the years I have told her a million times how much I love her but the act of saying it again and again never ceases to send my brain into paroxysm of joy.
All the time I was whispering my passion into her ear my penetrating finger was coaxing her pearl into its own hardened state. I shifted the night gown out of the way and began to massage the sodden cleft in her crotch. Her silky inner lips were coated in her lust and were indistinguishable from the sodden silk that was covering them moments earlier.
In most situations I would have ordinarily immersed my mouth in the warm wetness of her and stirred her arousal even higher with my tongue but this morning my penis was all I could think about.
I unwrapped myself from her and shifted up in the bed so that my gleaming taught cock was adjacent to her face. I stroked her head, pulling her hair away from her face, which was a just inches from my smooth hard tool. “Love me before I enter you” I whispered to her.
With unabashed eagerness and desire she began to kiss and lick my purple hued cock head. Each warm kiss and lick caused my sweet clear juice to drool from the slit in my penis; each drop that flowed was quickly taken up by her warm tongue. As she slowly made love to my cock with her mouth I fell backwards into a state of bliss that I had not felt for years. This was not a fast and furious blowjob ….this was a slow and teasingly deliberate expression of her love for me and her desire to express that love to my cock, expressed in ardent kisses, licks and nips on my desperately hard member. She teased me for what seemed like and eternity coaxing my juice from me in steady drips.
She then said to me: “Slide down and lay there I am going to fuck you until you are cross eyed.”
I slid down into the middle of the bed, and stroked her sweet soft skin as I situated myself on the bed. She got up and straddled my hips and grasped the base of my penis between her thumb and pointer finger with the delicate touch of a surgeon. She then lowered her pussy to just out of reach of my cock. She then lowered herself further so that the tip of my cockhead was barely touching her sodden opening. She began to manipulate me, in effect rubbing the end of my juicy cock all around her hot opening. Then deftly and very gently she pressed her clit into the slit in my penis, forcing my slit open to accept the hardened bud of her arousal. As she tried to get my penis to swallow her clit it forced the opening in my cock to be spread to its limit. The effect took my breath away. I gasped as she gently pushed herself against me and in the process coated her clit with my precum. The effect of this was not lost on her she moaned quietly as my slit gave her the friction and lubrication she needed to push her closer to rapture.
When I thought I wouldn’t be able to stand it anymore she shifted my cock to the mouth of her vagina and lowered herself onto me. In the process she said to me: “this is going to be long and drawn out, relax . . . . its going to be a while before you cum.” She knows how much I love slow arduous and mindful sex, and she was going to show me how much this particular morning. For 30 minutes she ground slowly against me me ever so slowly pulling on my cock and sinking it back into her. After a half dozen strokes she would bury me into her to the hilt and grind her clit against my pubic bone. Then she would sit perfectly still and do kegels on my cock, squeezing me inside her channel. Then she would squeeze me hard and pull on me until I popped totally out of her and my wet cock flopped onto my own belly. She would then grasp it again, insert it in her pussy mouth and lower herself onto me agonizingly slowly.
This went on for an eternity until my arousal was filling my balls and my head with the desperate need to empty my love into her. As if on cue she took some of our merged cocktail from her pussy and spread it on my nipples. She then pinched and tickled my nipples mercilessly until I virtually lost control of my body.
The cream spewed from me; coils of hot thick ropes of cum pumped into her pussy. As the thick – hot stream erupted from me I pushed up into her as if I needed to get my cum to fill her sinuses. I arched my back as the agonizing bliss of her vagina sucking the cum from me as the shrill whine of my orgasm droned in my ears and twisted my insides, draining me.
After I had shuddered in the last spasm of my ecstasy, she bent over and kissed me. “Good morning” she said. My response was: “ it was the silk dress dear.”
Did I say that I love it when she wears silk?Source: https://www.aneros.com/blogs/silk-1/