Monica - Part 2 - Sex Stories

Monica - Part 2

... “Come on,” she whispered and leaned forward to rub the head of my swollen cock against the soft flesh of her breast. “Come on...” I watched as she tugged me and rubbed me against her breast and nipple, and the moment I looked up into her eyes and saw them look back into mine my orgasm consumed me. With a soft grunt escaping my lips I shot long thick ropes of cum onto her breast. I continued to watch as it cascaded down over her soft flesh, glistening in the soft light and ran down over her hand. She held her gaze and her hand on my cock as I slowly softened in her fingers, her breast glistening and her fingers glazed. Slowly releasing her grasp, she raised her hand to her breast and rubbed her slick fingers over her nipple, massaging my cum into her skin. When she had finished, she gathered her robe around her, leaned over me and softly kissed me on the cheek. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered and slipped quietly out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her. I lay still on the bed, my mind reeling as I tried to comprehend what had just occurred between us and, more importantly, why. I looked at the clock: 2:30 in the morning. I lay there for what seemed to be an eternity, and wondered how I could I possibly fall back to sleep? But eventually sleep came. When I awoke around 7:30, the morning sun slanting into the room felt warm against my skin. I had slept much longer than I had intended; hoping to get an early start to the day. I quickly slipped on my clothes and ...

... wandered into the bathroom to wash up. I ran my wet fingers through my hair so I didn't look like a complete slob and made my way out to the kitchen. “Good morning!” Monica said with a smile. “Coffee?” She was behaving so casually, as if nothing at all had happened a few hours ago. And here I was still struggling to grasp what, if anything, it meant and to suppress those feelings that I had buried long ago. “Uh, coffee would be great thanks.” I replied with a smile. I was an uncaffeinated, a bit self-conscious and feeling very insecure. Not my typical Saturday morning. She placed a cup of black coffee in front of me. “Still drinking it black?” “Thanks.” I smiled, struggling to relax. I began wondering if I should mention the magnificent hand job she had administered, or perhaps ask for another? A blow job would be great, or even... I chuckled to myself and pushed that thought aside. That would be bad form. If she wants to talk about it fine, but I'll wait and let her bring it up. Raising the cup to my lips, I took a sip of coffee and felt the deliciously warm liquid begin to work its morning magic. “Where's Mike?” I asked looking over my cup at her. “He went over to his dad's to help replace a toilet,” she said over her shoulder, “His father's getting up there in his years, so he goes over there a lot to help out.” She was busy cleaning up a few leftover dishes from the night before and was moving about the kitchen gracefully and with purpose. She was wearing pale blue pajama ...