Call it what you will. Basic, vanilla, or routine sex is like going to get ice cream. No matter how you feel, no matter what you get, vanilla tastes good.
This is us at vanilla—the usual.
My dick is still wet and dripping as I write this. We just got done. She cleaned up faster than me and has gone down to do laundry. I still smell us on me.
Last Saturday, I was in the mood, and in a very husbandly, gentle, married way, I insisted we have sex. We have grown kids at home, and two of them were still in bed. My wife asked how we could keep quiet, but despite those concerns, we ended up doing it anyway.
It was a quickie. No foreplay, just me getting off. She did not this time. This is less than the usual for us—not our normal sex.
After it was over and we had cleaned up, we were both in a good place. It was Saturday, so there was no work. The day had not yet pounced upon us. With us both being in this good place, I threw a proposal out there: “From now on, every Saturday morning, we have sex.” She said that was okay, and I figured we would have to wait and see see how this new commitment of ours went from here.
Glory to God, this morning, a week later, was our first installment.
As we discussed it after that proposal last week, we agreed that Saturday morning sex did not have to be a porn scene spectacular. It could just be a quickie if that’s all we were up for. But also, we agreed we should see it as a place to be more expressive at times too. We both felt that was reasonable.
She got up this morning and went to the bathroom. I had already been awake with the sunrise, just casually resting. After a few minutes I texted her, “Ready?”
There was no reply. I stayed in bed looking at my phone for a bit. Still no reply. I figure I’d better get myself more presentable. I got up and went to the bathroom. She was rustling, getting finished as I walked in.
“You’re not ready,” she joked as she saw me in my briefs, with no hardon. She turned to the sink, and I snuggled up against her, lifting her sleep shirt to see that she has no panties on. I grabbed a butt cheek. She was ready.
I freshened my breath with a mouthwash strip, and by the time I had finished in the bathroom, she was already in bed. I slipped off my briefs and anticipation started to rouse me. She stood up beside the bed now and lifted her shirt above her head. That view of her naked body, her arms in the air—so fantastic.
I got up on my knees on the bed and motioned for her to lie diagonally. Without a word, she hopped down in place and gave no resistance or hesitation as my face lowered between her thighs. I kiss both sides of her treasured sex, going first to the left side, then the right, getting closer to her sweet slit with each kiss. Her aroma was intoxicating. I love her smell.
My hands cared for her—velvety, slipping, sliding. Feeling her belly. Finding her breasts. Her nipples. I complimented her on her soft skin.
Her hard clit and my tongue met and greeted one another, like the familiar friends they were. My hands lay on her breasts, slightly cool to the touch in contrast with the warmth of my hands. Her nipples were hard from the cool morning air, and from arousal too.
We quietly partook of our pleasures. My tongue played and danced with her clitoris. Her legs opened more and more.
She began to arch into my face as I devoured, her breasts and tummy rising off the bed.
A quiet, but powerful, gasp escaped her mouth as she violently came. Her body came back down to the bed as her breath exhausted from her.
I stayed where I was and lifted her legs. She resisted, knowing what I was doing, but I persisted. Gently lifting her legs, I held her behind the knees, and her sweet opening angled up toward me. I touched my tongue to her, and she winced and shied away, still hypersensitive from her recent orgasm. I touched again. Her sensitive skin resisted against my demand, but the tussle was short-lived as her hypersensitivity quickly melted back into pleasure, and she eagerly settled in for more attention from my tongue.
I lapped from her honey pot up to her clit. Her gasps of pleasure let out sexual tension like hot steam, and I felt her open up even more to me.
Her fingers tugged at her nipples as I feasted. Her banquet was delicious.
As she arched, her butt bug down into the bed, almost like she was trying to get away from the constant stimulation. But her breathing said something different, and she quickly followed her previous orgasm with another quiet jolt of release.
If I insisted, she would gladly endure another. But I was ready to give her something different.
I got up to my knees, wiped my face with a towel, and positioned myself. With how slick and prepared she was, I pressed into her with ease. The swing and sway of nestling my hard cock into her wet opening was wonderful. The look on her face was wanton. I couldn’t get myself in her any faster.
Her hands were feeling all over me—my hips, my butt, my back. She was scratching her sex itch.
I brought her feet up on my chest and shoulders dug deep into her. I was now as wet as she was, moving in and out, getting into a comfortable rhythm.
Then I stopped.
“You do it,” I said.
“What?” she asked, not expecting any words at this time.
“You do it,” I repeated quietly.
“I hope I can,” she said.
She readjusted her feet on my shoulders and on my chest, then began to grind into me, putting as much pressure on my dick as she could. She lifted with her back and feet, sliding up along my length, then back down. There it was. She found it—that groove, that motion that says, Let’s get it on.
Her eyes locked on mine as she edged closer to cumming with every shift on my cock. She started panting, almost whining a little as she crested over into her eruption. Her cum was beautiful.
I placed her knees into my elbows and pressed into her. I folding her over at the hips, just leaving myself in her, making tiny little humping movements so as to minimize any noise.
She had cum first. Now it was my turn to get off, but she didn’t just check out.
“Cum inside me, baby. Cum on, please, baby!” she encouraged as I began the end of my journey.
I jolted deep inside her as I came. I felt hot jet streams of cum shoot from me into her. There wasn’t much motion, but the sensation still took my breath away. I gasped as I emptied myself into her open pussy. She gasped back at me, clenching my butt to pull me tighter into her.
I write this as a raised glass to God, and to my wife. Glory to God. Hopefully, this is the beginning of every Saturday to cum.
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