A Jaded Gift

Mike laid gasping in recovery and contemplating his release of moments ago. Rita continued to hold his deflating member in her mouth, gently squeezing out the last drops of his flood with her tongue.

Mike returned to his earlier task. He reinserted his tongue into Rita and swirled it around until he found her swollen clitoris. He rubbed it with his moistened tongue. Rita was freed to concentrate on her own pleasures. Mike reached his hands up and spread her cheeks. He felt her excitement deepen. With his fingers, he stroked the insides of them, then ran his thumb down and caressed her anal ring. Rita spun out of control. With the new sensation, and Mike's tongue at her bulb, she soon climaxed mightily, heaving a loud sigh as she tensed and relaxed each muscle. She collapsed as she lay upon him, his flaccid organ still encased in her mouth and her wet sex on Mike's face. It was her turn to gasp as she slowly descended from her high.

*****************

In the afterglow Rita lay on her side, her head on Mike's shoulder, her top leg outstretched over his two. Mike could feel the hardness of the necklace in contrast to the soft skin of her breasts resting against him. Her fingers played lazily in the hair of his chest. Mike's arm encased her and he stroked her bare shoulder with his hand. With the other he caressed her forehead.

"Rita, you are incredible."

"Don't sell yourself short," she returned the compliment. "I can see that you've been without for a long time ... from the volume." She laughed as she said it, not in girlish high tones, but a womanly alto voice that reminded him of her sultriness.

She straddled him anew and kissed him, thrusting her tongue against his. Mike tasted the remnants of himself on her lips and tongue, as he supposed that she tasted herself at the same time. She bounded off of him and the bed, retrieving their half-consumed cocktails.

Rita set the two drinks on the night stand and then jumped back atop him. She handed him the Manhattan, and took her own Whiskey Sour in hand. She ground her wet labia on Mike's still soft member, entrapping it within the folds, and put the drink to her lips.

"Do you feel like sleeping?" she teased. "You look so comfortable down there. I know that some men just like to have a nice long nap afterward." She raised up and stretched her shoulders and arms such that Mike could see the perfect roundness of her breasts and pointed hardness of her nipples playing below the balls of green jade and gold chain. She tossed down the rest of her drink and set the empty on the nightstand. She shifted backwards and forwards slightly, and Mike felt his softened manhood resting with pleasure in the warmth of her labia.

"You didn't wear me out, although you tried to," he teased back. "I don't really need a nap right now." Mike took a good swallow of the whiskey.

"Good!" she exclaimed, and took the cocktail glass from him and set it alongside her own, making sure that the movement did not allow him to slip out of the soft grip of her nether lips. "So," she continued, "you like to do it with the lights on!"

"I do if I get to look at you."

"Not very romantic," she suggested.

"Is this romance?"

Rita said nothing, but pursed out her lower lip and nodded in a 'good point' expression.

"If the lights weren't on," she said, in a playful, facetious tone, "I wouldn't see this wet, sticky mess all over your face. Did I really do that to you? I'll have to clean you up!"

Rita's tongue snaked out from her lips and she stiffened it to form a wet point. She bent lower and licked at Mike's face, painting his mouth and lips, his cheekbones and throat as she cleaned her essence off him.

The sensual bath revived Mike's hardness. He brought his hands to her legs and stroked the soft flesh of her inner thighs. As she leaned over him, he felt the jade balls of the necklace that he bought for his wife dangling from Rita's neck onto his chest.

"Mmm, I can feel you getting harder," Rita purred.

She started moving herself up and down his body, keeping Mike's penis encased between her labia. Mike heard her moans and it made him harden more. Her breasts traversed his chest, with the jade balls harbingers of her hard nipples. It was an atmosphere that would intoxicate any man: the wet envelope of her labia, her crescendoing moans of pleasure in his ears, her breasts rolling over his chest like the waves of an ocean tide.

Mike held Rita by the waist and lifted her slightly. Rita sunk down on him, impaling herself to the hilt all at once. She placed her palms on Mike's shoulders for support and commenced an up-and-down motion, riding him. Mike responded in kind, thrusting himself up at her to meet her at the nadir of her flight.

Rita turned her head toward the ceiling; her mouth open, not speaking. She only issued a quiet grunt of pleasure upon each full impalement. Mike grasped both her breasts, at first. He roughly grabbed her nipples. Rita's exhaled moans grew louder. Mike moved his hands to her hips to force her down on him harder. Rita kept riding him, and squeezed him in her tunnel.

Rita swept her gaze off the ceiling and looked down at Mike. Her eyes were opened wide and she was breathing hard. Her expression told Mike to expect something special. She squeezed his penis tighter with the muscles inside her, and accentuated her up-and down stroking. It became less rhythmic-more urgent and with greater force. Mike sensed that she would be coming soon.

He felt that her onrushing climax was his own work of art—at least in part. He was determined to hold off his own ejaculation, lest he cut hers short of reaching its potential. Rita continued impaling herself on Mike as he thrust to meet her. Her motions became slower, but more forceful and pronounced, and she began to scrape her vulva on him at each down stroke. On her final two she shuddered, exhaling loudly, and then collapsed on top of him, gasping for breath. Mike grabbed the cheeks of her buttocks and thrust upward as hard as he could, to reach further inside her. After a half-dozen reaches into her limp body, he climaxed in his turn, with great pleasure and force.

They lay together, her on top of him, for some minutes, drained of energy. Mike, though now softened, remained cradled inside her. He stroked her shoulders and back, down to her cheeks. He did not do so to pleasure or arouse her, but to be reminded of all the features of this exquisite, tantalizing woman; of how he had won her, bedded her, and how they had satisfied each other.

After a while, Rita dismounted him, reached over to the control panel alongside the bed and turned out the lights. She pulled the covers over them and assumed her position lying on her side beside him, her head on his shoulder. Mike pulled her to him and she draped an arm across his chest.

That was wonderful!" she whispered. "It was the strongest climax that I've ever had."

Mike said nothing, just stroked her forehead as they relaxed together. In a short time, they were asleep.

*************

In the morning Mike woke to the sound of water running in the shower. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand: six-thirty. He thought of joining Rita there, but decided to relax in the big bed and think about what had taken place the night before. It was hard to find anything to complain about, and he guessed Rita would say the same, when he asked her.

In a short time Rita emerged from the bathroom. She was nude, except for the towel wrapped around her head and the jade necklace posed above her breasts. Mike had almost forgotten what a great body she had, and that she was just old enough to know how to use it.

"Sometimes a man just gets lucky," he said to himself.

"Good morning!" she called to him.

"Good morning, yourself," he replied. "I'm just going to freshen up. I won't be long."

When Mike came out of the bathroom he saw her sitting in the bed waiting for him. The sheet was pulled up to her waist. She displayed her nude top half to him. Mike heard the coffee pot gurgling off to the side.

"You were a sleepy one last night," she teased.

"Jet lag!" he joked. "What's your excuse?"

"Well," she said slowly, a smile emerging across her face, "I was flying high, too; just in a different way."

"We have a lot of time before breakfast," he told her.

Rita said nothing, just purred in approval as he stood alongside the bed.

She cast the sheet off her legs and feet, and the towel from her head. She slid down to a lying position with her arms outstretched.

"Do you have any energy left for me?" she asked.

Mike said nothing but climbed onto the bed, finding a niche between her spread legs. They leisurely kissed. Their lips parted a minute later.

"Did you know that the first Playboy Club in history was in a building just a few blocks from here?" Mike asked her.

"Every man needs a playmate sometimes," she said softly. "Would you like me to be your playmate?'

"You certainly qualify; you've got the talent for it," he told her. "Maybe I would like you to be, from time to time."

"I can, if you promise to please me," she answered, with a Mona Lisa smile.

Rita drew her knees up and Mike was hard. He felt her wetness and he eased himself into her. They held still, savoring the coupling.

"The necklace was a nice surprise when it arrived last week," she said. "The leather skirt set you back a few hundred ... and Larry from the jewelry store says you owe him tickets to the Bulls."

"Did I tell you that I missed you?" he asked.

She said nothing; her eyes were glistening.

"...and I missed the kids," he added. "Did your mother mind watching them? What did she think our little game?"

Mike's sharp edges were once again round and smooth.

Rita wrapped her legs around Mike's legs, and pushed up gently at him.

"Welcome home, my husband," she whispered, "it's good to have you back."

THE END

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Dear eaders,

Thanks for reading. I hope that you enjoyed it. If you have any comments, I am always interested in them.

Best regards,

Autumn Writer