Tick Tick

Tick tick tick tick. It's almost four am and I am alone in bed. The house is silent except for the ticking of his typewriter. Like his old typewriter...I am turned on.

It's not what he is writing, although his creativity and imagination are sexy and I love to read his ramblings of every day life. But it's the ticking. The pounding on the keys, the sound of him pushing of the letters one by one, and the swing of the bar. Tick, schwip, bing! I love it.

When he uses his laptop in the evenings, nothing! The squishing sound of the keys doesn't quite make me want to grab his hand and force his strong powerful fingers down my pants. But the old typewriter does. What's the difference? It's has to do with the necessary strength of his fingers finding each letter and pushing it down hard, making it do what he commands.

I wait patiently in bed for him to finish his thoughts. He gets very creative in the middle of the night. He can write for hours, which sometimes creates a problem. I get tired of waiting and resort to my old battery operated friend, which is good, but not the same as the real thing. A woman craves the touch of her lover. His breath on her face. His smell filling the air. And the weight of him as he enters her. No vibrator can do all that!

When I hear the last piece of paper ripped from the machine, my heart begins to pound. I quietly prepare myself for his return to our bed. I swiftly remove my panties and night gown and lay them on the floor beside me. He has to notice that I go to bed dressed but when he comes back in... naked. But I don't care. Half the fun is the pretending.

I hear his footsteps in hall as the floorboards yield to his every step. He tries his best not to disturb my sleep, although I am sure he knows I am awake and waiting for him. As the door, creaks open, no light enters the room. He is very considerate not to turn on any lights that might ruin the mood.

The door shuts behind him. I am pretending to be asleep as he gently pulls back the covers. The blanket just slightly reveals my naked breast in the darkness of the room. I can feel a slight chill as the cool air meets my exposed nipple.

He gently gets into bed, careful not to create much movement in the mattress. He lays down on his back, his leg stretched to meet mine. And it begins.

I lean over to him, keeping the pretense of sleep. As if to snuggle and welcome him back, I lay my arm across his chest. Within seconds I move my hand around providing a light massage. He moans softly. My hand finds it way down to his stomach still maintaining a tender soothing pressure.

As I keep moving downward, his breathing begins to grow louder. I reach down to his thigh, just brushing lightly over his slightly aroused cock. His breathing becomes more intense as I rub his thigh. He begins to move closer and I move towards him.

After a brief thigh massage, I place my palm over his cock, moving my hand up and down. As he grows harder, I grab him and slide my hand up and down, making him moan louder and louder.

At this point, his powerful typewriter fingers are lightly kneading my breasts causing me to sigh. He turns toward me and I remove my hand from his cock. It's my turn and I have been waiting patiently.

I lay on my back as he rolls on top of me. His weight on me, his breath on my skin, his smell everywhere. With his hands at my sides, he begins to kiss me deeply. His tongue enters me gently at first then forcefully probing my mouth. He pulls away, then kisses me again. He loves to tease me like this, making me beg for more, lifting my head to meet his, our tongues touching.

He now moves to my breasts. He is so gentle and soft as he kisses and licks my nipples making them hard little beads. He moves slowly between them, giving both the attention they deserve. Just the touch of his mouth on my skin makes me moan louder and raise my hips to meet his. With all this, we don't say a word... our bodies speak for us.

He raises his head from my tits and now we are just staring into each others' eyes. He kisses me again, hard and deep. I feel his cock against me, rubbing my clit, making me wet. He has yet to enter me and like his kissing, he does some teasing.

Moving up and down, but not inside me. I feel him, the tip of his cock ready to enter me. I give my "please" moan and then finally, he does. Slowly and gently. Not everything at once. He starts off with just the tip entering me. In and out. Then a little bit more. In and out. Then even more. In and out. Then finally, just as I am ready to scream "fuck me now", he plunges into me, forcing his entire cock into my ever so wet and inviting pussy.

We moan and gyrate in unison, kissing, licking, fucking. Enjoying each moment. He is amazing. He can last just long enough to ensure my orgasm. He is such a considerate man and insists I cum before him. Then I cum, hard on his cock. A satisfying smile crosses his face as he cums inside of me, filling me. The smile is now on my face.

He releases his weight and lays on me, staying inside me. This is my favorite part. I feel tired, loved, and completely fulfilled. I can feel his breath on my skin, his smell in the air, and his weight on me. We fall asleep, in love and exhausted.