I don’t know about you, but Friday is my favorite day of the week. It’s the beginning of a weekend of hedonistic pleasures. It is when I seem to come alive, capping off a long week in an exciting way. My hubby and I have our date nights on Fridays, a timeless ritual we haven’t broken since we tied the knot. The fact that I’m a pilot and always on the move doesn’t stop us from being together every weekend. In fact, it heightens our passion as we can barely wait to have a piece of each other.
Today is extra special because we are in Capetown, our favorite city. Capetown is a city that boasts a breathtaking panorama. Its beautiful scenery, combined with the cultural diversity South Africa is well known for, drew me in since I first stepped here. This city has so much to offer, and I can’t wait to see what my husband has planned for the day.
I am not working this weekend, but my husband is. He lands in Capetown this evening, so I have a whole day to prepare for a memorable evening. After a quick shower and breakfast, I am out of the hotel room and on an adventurous day.
Hours later, I am exhausted from a shopping spree and sightseeing and walking a good length through the cobbled streets of Capetown. The heat was overpowering and took a toll on me, but I had a fantastic day overall.
Back in my hotel room, I take another quick shower and did my hair. My phone pings with a message as I tie a ribbon to form a ponytail. “Darl…how would you like me to give you the best weekend you ever wished for?” I’m dumbfounded by the directness of it. It is from the guy who calls himself Dragon.
Dragon is a local mechanic who repaired my car three days earlier. It had broken down on my way to see The Table Mountain. I had hailed his services, and afterward, he had politely asked for my contacts. I reluctantly parted with my number, knowing it was a harmless idea and that I would be a thousand miles from the city even if the guy decided to try anything. Now, the guy dares to send such a message! I want to tell him I’m a married woman, loyal to my loving hubby, but I ignore it and continue working on my grooming.
I choose a floral knee-length dress from a set of two and put it on. A moment later, I am admiring myself in front of the mirror. The image that stares back at me is a piece of art, a beautiful painting with flawless skin and a sexy disposition. Satisfied, I sit on an easy, comfortable chair and wait for my adoring husband.
I have always wanted a wife who would match my sexual energy, and Claudia is a gift from the gods, fitting my exact desire. Not only is she beautiful, but she is kind, loyal, sexy, and awesome. She has shown me that you can have it all in one package.
As I am walking towards the hotel room, I can’t help but feel a frisson warmth building up within me, as it always does when I’m about to see her after being apart for some time. It has been a week since I last saw her, but it feels like a century. I miss her like crazy, and today, I feel it will be one of our most incredible nights. Contrary to popular belief, marriage does not equate to a boring sex life. In fact, with Claudia, our sex lives are more active than before, and today, I have a surprise for her.
We had a great dinner in the restaurant, talked about almost everything that happened when we were apart, and guffawed at our jokes. It was a replica of our time when we were dating. We are now on the elevator, headed for our room on the fifth floor. I can’t stop imagining the exquisite pleasure that awaits us.
“What are you wearing underneath?” I ask teasingly.
She stares at me lovingly.”Calvin Klein.”
She laughs at my question, and I think she’s teasing me.
“Why the impatience…you will find out. Won’t you?”
A wide grin fills my face. That’s why I love this woman; she loves teasing me, which drives me to the verge of madness. I lean towards her until our lips are inches apart. Her lips are shiny and smooth and glow in the dim elevator light. I love how her lower lip divorces from its compatriot, and I move in with mine. They lock, and we begin to kiss, slowly at first. My hands are firmly locked around her waist. She moves hers and wraps them around my neck. We increase the tempo, and our breaths become uneven competition for air. My right finds its way down her dress and slowly raises it. I move it inside her smooth thighs, up towards her honeypot. My index finger and thumb zero in gradually, touring the outer walls of the promised land like beggars in pursuit of meals. Once they reach there, I discover she is wearing nothing underneath!
She is wet when my index finger enters the gate, looking for honey. My thumb remains outside and begins to stroke her clit. She evokes a moan of pleasure as my fingers work simultaneously in an act of foreplay. We are lost in a world of intense enjoyment and are unaware that the lift has stopped moving. We continue kissing as I stroke her, her moans filling the whole elevator.
My other hand work begins to work its way down and lifts her dress slightly above her ass. It tours her voluptuous and soft posterior. At a moment like this, I appreciate that she decided to wear nothing underneath. I can’t wait to take off her dress and eat her ass like there’s no tomorrow.
We are caught off guard by the opening of the elevator door. We hadn’t realized it had stopped, and we reached our destination. Dang!
Quickly, I drop her dress, and we disentangle from our kissing. A moment later, a middle-aged couple steps into the lift. I can tell from their looks that they missed us in our sexual madness. Or maybe they did and are good at showing indifference. Either way,I don’t care. We are total strangers in an even stranger hotel. I realize we have reached our floor, and we walk out of the lift hand in hand, giggling like teenagers at what happened behind us.
I can’t let her go of her even as we enter the bedroom. Every part of my body is burning with a longing for her. I can tell that she wants me too. Her eyes are aflame with desire.
We do not wait for a signal to take our clothes off. We rip them off our bodies and toss them around like xenophobic people throwing rocks in the streets of Johannesburg. She mounts on me and wraps her limbs around me as I carry her towards the kingsize bed. I lower her slowly and begin another round of foreplay. What happened in the elevator was merely a foreplay’s foreplay. Or a mini-foreplay, if there is anything like that.
My lips find hers, and we kiss hungrily. I find her tongue and suck it like ice cream. When I can’t get enough of her mouth, I kiss her cheeks, ears, and neck, moving slowly downward. Her breasts are swollen, and her nipples are staring straight at me, begging me to implore them, to suck them as if they will be the first and last to do so.
I circle them, nipping every inch of skin around them. I continue avoiding her nipples until she can’t take it anymore and literally guides my head towards them. I suck the left and tickle the right with my hand. She lets out a moan, and her body reacts underneath me, writhing in sensual movements.
My hand rolls on top of her belly and moves to her pussy. I realize she’s wetter than before, and her labial juices are dripping like stalactites in an underground cave. She responds to my touch and grinds her clit on my fingers. I pin her down with my weight and continue rubbing her clit again. This time, she doesn’t moan. She digs her hands on my back and holds me tight. I keep teasing her while whispering dirty things in her ears, like how I can’t wait to ravish her or have my tongue on her wet pussy.
Claudia begs me to go down on her, but I take my time. I want this passionate moment to be as glorious as ever, an unforgettable experience despite it always happening in our marriage. Slowly, my mouth begins its downward journey, kissing the belly button and the inviting skin of her tiny waist. My tongue locks itself around the waiting clit even before she’s ready for it. A loud moan escapes her mouth when I start sucking at it with unmatched passion. Her hands grip my head and tug at my hair. Her legs rise in the air, giving way to my mighty tongue to devour the territory between them. I eat her like my life depends on it, stopping only for seconds to breathe.
She is making wild, incomprehensible noises now as I do the tongue job. I’m grateful to my ex for teaching me how to eat pussy like a professional. About two minutes later, I feel the faint shudder of a volcano building underneath her. It is apparent now that she is going to have an orgasm. I let the magma inside build-up, hot and molten. Her shuddering grows stronger as I increase the tempo. I can now feel it, hovering below the surface, waiting to erupt in my face.
Cleverly, I stop and move my mouth towards her nipples instead. I suck her tits more as she begs me to fuck her. I ignore her pleas until she tries to stop me.
“If you don’t fuck me now, I’m going to die with a pending orgasm,” she squeals.
I take pity on her and guide my tumescent organ inside her wet pussy. It is warm and juicy, and everything sweet. I thrust in slow, deep strokes. She loses it and evokes all the dear names in her head. The faint tremors begin again as I increase the tempo and move to a familiar missionary rhythm. Her legs are now curled around my back, entrapping me into a world of ethereal ecstasy. I pump inside her, going faster and faster in a steady, orgiastic beat. I can feel my volcano building up, competing with hers. A moan escapes my mouth, but I barely notice it as there is one wild shudder from both of us. An unbelievable explosion rocks our bodies, making us shake in spasms. It lasts a moment, followed by glorious aftershocks. And then our bodies become still.
I collapse on top of her, breathing heavily. I plant tiny kisses on her lips and neck and then tell her,” Sweetheart….you are the sweetest woman in the world.”
She giggles and says, “And who are sweet and sweeter women?”
“You and you again,” I say, rolling off her, and we spoon in a passionate embrace.