1. Chilly Morning


    Date: 1/6/2016, Categories: Anal, Author: sterlingass, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

    The windows were left open over night and a chilly breeze was blowing past the light curtains when I woke up. I was looking up at the ceiling, having tossed and turned throughout the night from my favorite position on my stomach. My right hand was nonchalantly holding my dick, which was stiff from having to go to the bathroom. It felt warm. I wiggled in the bed a little closer to my wife, Taylor. She was asl**p, her back to me, her feet tucked in towards her body in a fetal position. I could see the curve of her hips beneath the crisp red sheet. Her breathing was deep and even; she was asl**p and probably dreaming. The alarm had not gone off yet, but the sun had crept over the horizon and I could see blue sky from between openings in the curtains. My left hand reached out and cupped her ass. I twisted my wrist into an unnatural position, giving my fingers more room to squeeze her soft cheeks. I traced a pinkie finger from the deep cleft of where her ass met her thighs, along her crack and to the small of her back. It was no mean feat since I’m not the most flexible guy in the world. I retraced my path until my hand rested tightly between her thighs. Her pubic hair rubbed against the edge of my hand. I pressed up. She moaned in her sl**p. Still her breathing remained even and easy, her legs closed like the halves of a treasure chest, its secret safely locked inside. I pulled my hand from between her legs and rolled out of the bed, trying hard to not make a sound. A floor ...
    board creaked beneath me, but the soft carpet muted my heavy and uncoordinated morning steps. A crack as loud as a gunshot split the air, but it was only my hip sliding into place, trying to form a better alignment with the rest of me. I made a small noise as I peed into the toilet; spraying the side of the bowl instead of splashing loudly like a welcome summer rain. I quickly turned on the tap and grabbed a wash cloth, wiped myself down faster than a squeegee man cleans a car window and walked as silently as I could again back to our bed. I pulled back the cover and Taylor drew her legs closer up to her body. Taylor is a tall woman, almost five-nine, but laying there with a chilled May breeze blowing, and an infant blue sky and nearly white light uncertainly coming into our room, she was packed into a much smaller space. Her right hand reached out for the sheet. I gave it to her and she pulled it up to nearly her chin. No matter, we both can be under the sheet. I slipped into bed and shaped my body like a spoon beside hers. Why is it called spooning? Spoons in my drawer are on top of one another, not alongside, and that’s how they are in everyone’s drawer I know. I stopped trying to figure out such silly things and nuzzled up close. I stroked the backs of her thighs, down to the muscled calves and even made to the backs of her feet. I creaked and cracked, but I was successful, a veritable explorer unlocking the secrets of a forbidden jungle. On my second trip down her legs, she ...
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