Sunday Night

I always loved our Sunday nights, every week a new surprise awaited me, with the promise of a cheeky striptease, or the challenge of making you cum. We’d long ago decided to make Sunday our weekly date night, most of the time spent cuddling up to one another in front of Netflix, after an uncomfortably delicious spaghetti meal, your mother’s secret recipe, takeaways were strictly forbidden.

Earlier in the week, I remembered the parcel that arrived for you, a plastic bag type parcel, all black with only an unassuming sticker with our address on and as little details as possible printed on it, it was quickly tucked upstairs by you. I daren’t bring up the subject, once in a while I’d get a hint of what was to come that Sunday, I never wanted to ruin the mood before it had even begun.

It is 9pm, we’re both on the sofa and as of now, there’s not even a hint of sexiness, the way you are a woman of erotic intrigue, is my biggest turn on, the way you know how to charm me in your own way, is the amazement that keeps me longing for you. You are all dressed in black, formally but provocatively, almost a tease that shouldn’t be felt. The TV needs to be turned off, the off button on the remote has been broken for ages, still, better not to replace the TV when we are at the height of enjoying each other’s company, expensive chocolates and massage oils always make a new TV seem far off when we look at the bank account.

You decide to volunteer to get up and go and press the button on the side of the TV, a smile over your shoulder as you do just that, a smirk as you turn around and start slowly taking off your clothes, the Sunday tradition comes around, I am so glad I never mentioned your little delivery earlier in the week.

You pull up your black t shirt, as I see the most provocative bra, emblazoned with hot pink, and the darkest black fabric I have ever seen, as the cups hold up your stunning breasts. You tease me as you pretend to lower the straps, I cannot resist looking on in lust, I am a prisoner to your painfully curvy body. Soon enough, the trousers are being taken off, revealing the most shockingly clad set of knickers I have ever seen, to which I wonder, what new shop have you found?

You wiggle your bum at me, dancing as an expert lap dancer, our lives too modest for you to take it up as a career. Before long, you are unzipping my jeans, my cock already hard, and out. I realise I am in for a treat as you pull my cock between the fabric of your bra and in between your breasts, to get me nice and hard as you give me a rare tit wank, which feels utterly sublime. You stop after a minute, reaching behind your back to undo the straps and take it off, allowing them to naturally fall.

After a quick scuffle, you are beside me, legs raised to allow my cock to enter your unbelievably warm, wet pussy, moisture seeping down my cock as I thrust, you moan in pleasure as the motion is a beautiful sight to behold, pornographic, yet sensual and loving. I keep going, the frantic movement of your hips, traps me, the synergy is saying that you are going to cum. I thrust my long, hard cock, with a determination as suddenly the sofa is drenched in your cum, with a triumphant moan as you orgasm. Both our legs are shaking, that’s our Sunday nig

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