I wasn’t out there too long when a heat of a different type came over me, and I start playing with my nipples. Soon my fingers brush down my stomach to my clit. Not satisfied with the way I was laying, I moved so that my bottom was at the edge of the top step, placing my feet on the railings on either side of the steps. I then continued my work between my thighs and over my breasts, a breeze gently caressing me as I do so. It felt amazing with the sun heating my skin and the the breeze teasing my most intimate parts.
Five minutes or so later, I heard a car pulling up the driveway. I wasn’t worried about it. I figured the only person it could be was my husband. The kids were all tied up with their own stuff for the day. The idea of getting caught back there by my hubby wasn’t a bad idea, so I ignored the arrival, and kept with what I was doing.
I heard a car door slam and feet coming around the back of the house. My eyes were closed while I pleasured myself. The feet came closer and stopped at the bottom of the steps. My pussy was getting hotter, knowing I was being watched. He watched for several minutes, then I felt fabric drop over my face. It smelled gloriously of male flesh. Before I could think too much about the shirt, I heard the steps creak, and felt my hand pushed away from my pussy in favor of his.
I felt a single finger teasing my clit, making slow circles and then gently flicking it. My pussy ached for more, deeper invasion. It wasn’t long before I got my wish. His finger trailed from my clit, down to my opening, making more gentle circles around it without really penetrating me. It was slow and glorious torture.
“Oh God, that feels so good. More please,” I encouraged.
He said nothing, but obliged me by sinking his single finger inside of me, moving slowly in and out. This was better, but still not enough.
“More,” I demanded.
He laughed a bit, low so I couldn’t hear him very well. He obviously didn’t want me to know who he was. At this point, I am not so sure it is my husband. The scent from the shirt is slowly making its way to my brain. The shirt smells delicious, but not wholly familiar as my husband’s scent should be.
Then he was finger fucking me with two fingers, slowly. I moan in pleasure.
“More, faster,” I asked with a moan.
He pushes three fingers inside, slowly at first with an increasing pace. I love getting finger fucked, and he was good at it.
Slowly licking and sucking my clit, he ran his hands up my stomach to play with both of my nipples. The three pronged sensual attack on my body escalated my passion rapidly, and I came again all over his face this time.
He removed himself from the steps and I was a bit disappointed until I heard a zipping sound, the swish of material against flesh. The sound excited me all over again. He pulled my body further out on the steps so my bottom was partly suspended in the air, my legs still supporting me on the railing on either side of the steps.
Then I felt the head of his cock rubbing up and down my pussy, rimming my opening, teasing my clit. I heard him moan, then shift to sink himself deep inside me. He felt so good inside me. As he moved, heat built between us.
In a moment of intensity, I moaned, “Leo!”
(I am inserting an editorial note here. I didn’t at this point know who it was. I just happen to call for Leo because he is the one I most fantasize about. My husband is used to me calling out random guys names during sex.)
The man between my legs paused for a second and then kept going, harder and faster. My calling for Leo seemed to stir something in him, as gas to a lit fire, he burst into an inferno and I with him.
He moaned, moving to suck my breast as he continue to fuck me. The feeling of him moving inside me, his mouth on my breast, his sweat dripping on me was all so intense. The world faded leaving only the sensation of each other. Then we both faded as well, as a sensual explosion hit us both simultaneously.
We lay there entwined as the world came back to us. Eventually he lifted the shirt just high enough that my lips were exposed. He placed a sweet kiss on my lips and whispered, “Stay.”
I obeyed as he got up, got dressed and walked back around the house. I heard the car door slam and the engine start. I sat up and removed the shirt from my face. It was his t-shirt, one of his favorites. I moved the shirt back to my nose.
Inhaling deeply, “Leo!” I whispered.
I kept his shirt for about a month. For the first week or so I just pulled it out to sniff it once in a while. After his smell began to fade I started wearing it once in a while.
One day when I was sure his shirt thoroughly smelled like me, I brought it to work and left it on his driver’s side front seat. The next day, he wore it to work. At one point, I looked over at him and he looked up at me. Lifting the edge of his shirt to his nose, he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He opened his eyes and looked at me with a smug smile. We never have talked about it to this day.
The End
